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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/38037-8.txt b/38037-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1c0dd39 --- /dev/null +++ b/38037-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12833 @@ +Project Gutenberg's English and Scottish Ballads (volume 3 of 8), by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: English and Scottish Ballads (volume 3 of 8) + +Author: Various + +Editor: Francis James Child + +Release Date: November 16, 2011 [EBook #38037] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENGLISH, SCOTTISH BALLADS, (3 OF 8) *** + + + + +Produced by Simon Gardner, Dianna Adair, Louise Davies and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by the Digital & Multimedia +Center, Michigan State University Libraries.) + + + + + +Transcriber's Notes + +Archaic, dialect and inconsistent spellings have been retained as in the +original. Other than minor changes to format or punctuation, any changes +to the text have been listed at the end of the book. + +In this Plain Text version of the e-book, symbols from the ASCII and +Latin-1 character sets only are used. + + Italic typeface is indicated by _underscores_. + Small caps typeface is represented by UPPER CASE. + Superscript characters are indicated by ^{xx}. + [OE] and [oe] represent the oe-ligature (upper and lower case). + A pointing hand symbol is represented as [hand]. + +Footnotes are numbered in sequence throughout the book and presented at +the end of the section or ballad in which the footnote anchor appears. +Notes with reference to ballad line numbers are presented at the end of +each ballad. + + * * * * * + + ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH + BALLADS. + + EDITED BY + FRANCIS JAMES CHILD. + + VOLUME III. + + BOSTON: + LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY. + M.DCCC.LX. + + + + + Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857 by LITTLE, + BROWN AND COMPANY, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of + Massachusetts. + + RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE: + STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY + H.O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY. + + + + +CONTENTS OF VOLUME THIRD. + + + BOOK III. (continued.) + + Page + + 11 a. Earl Richard, (A) [Scott's version] 3 + 11 b. Earl Richard, [Motherwell's version] 10 + 11 c. Young Redin 13 + 11 d. Lord William 18 + 12 a. Prince Robert 22 + 12 b. Earl Robert 26 + 13. The Weary Coble o' Cargill 30 + 14. Old Robin of Portingale 34 + 15. Fause Foodrage 40 + 16. Bonnie Annie 47 + 17. William Guiseman 50 + 18 a. The Enchanted Ring 53 + 18 b. Bonny Bee-Ho'm 57 + 19 a. The Three Ravens 59 + 19 b. The Twa Corbies, [Scott] 61 + 20 a. The Dowie Dens of Yarrow 63 + 20 b. The Braes o' Yarrow 69 + 21. Sir James the Rose 73 + 22. Grĉme and Bewick 77 + 23. The Lament of the Border Widow 86 + 24. Young Waters 88 + 25. Bonnie George Campbell 92 + 26 a. Lamkin 94 + 26 b. Lambert Linkin 100 + 27 a. The Laird of Waristoun, [Jamieson] 107 + 27 b. Laird of Wariestoun, [Kinloch] 110 + 28 a. The Queen's Marie 113 + 28 b. Mary Hamilton 120 + 29. Bessie Bell and Mary Gray 126 + 30. The Children in the Wood 128 + 31 a. Hugh of Lincoln 136 + 31 b. Sir Hugh 142 + 31 c. The Jew's Daughter 144 + 32 a. Sir Patrick Spence, [Percy] 147 + 32 b. Sir Patrick Spens, [Scott] 152 + + + BOOK IV. + + 1. King Estmere 159 + 2. Sir Cauline 173 + 3 a. Fair Annie, [Scott] 191 + 3 b. Fair Annie, [Motherwell] 198 + 4 a. Child Waters 205 + 4 b. Burd Ellen 213 + 5 a. Erlinton 220 + 5 b. The Child of Elle 224 + 6 a. Sir Aldingar 234 + 6 b. Sir Hugh le Blond 253 + 7 a. The Knight, and Shepherd's Daughter 260 + 7 b. Earl Richard (B) 266 + 8 a. The Gay Goss-Hawk 277 + 8 b. The Jolly Goshawk 285 + + + APPENDIX. + + Young Hunting 295 + Young Waters 301 + Lammikin 307 + Long Lonkin 313 + The Laird of Waristoun 316 + Mary Hamilton, [Kinloch] 324 + Mary Hamilton, [Maidment] 329 + Sir Hugh, or The Jew's Daughter, [Motherwell] 331 + Sir Hugh, [Hume] 335 + Sir Patrick Spens 338 + Lord Livingston 343 + Clerk Tamas 349 + John Thomson and The Turk 352 + Lord Thomas Stuart 357 + The Spanish Virgin 360 + The Lady Isabella's Tragedy 366 + The Cruel Black 370 + King Malcolm and Sir Colvin 378 + Ski[oe]n Anna; Fair Annie 383 + Lady Margaret 390 + Earl Richard (B) 395 + + GLOSSARY 403 + + + + +BOOK III. + +CONTINUED. + + + + +EARL RICHARD. + + +A fragment of this gloomy and impressive romance, (corresponding to v. +21-42,) was published in Herd's _Scottish Songs_, i. 184, from which, +probably, it was copied into Pinkerton's _Scottish Tragic Ballads_, p. +84. The entire ballad was first printed in _The Border Minstrelsy_, +together with another piece, _Lord William_, containing a part of the +same incidents. Of the five versions which have appeared, four are given +in this place, and the remaining one in the Appendix. In the +_Gentleman's Magazine_, 1794, Vol. 64, Part I. p. 553, there is a modern +ballad of extremely perverted orthography and vicious style, (meant for +ancient,) in which the twenty lines of Herd's fragment are interwoven +with an altogether different story. It is printed as authentic in +_Scarce "Ancient" Ballads_, Aberdeen, 1822. + +"There are two ballads in Mr. Herd's MSS. upon the following story, in +one of which the unfortunate knight is termed _Young Huntin'_. [See +Appendix.] The best verses are selected from both copies, and some +trivial alterations have been adopted from tradition." _Minstrelsy of +the Scottish Border_, iii. 184. + + "O Lady, rock never your young son, young, + One hour langer for me; + For I have a sweetheart in Garlioch Wells, + I love far better than thee. + + "The very sole o' that lady's foot 5 + Than thy face is far mair white:" + "But, nevertheless, now, Erl Richard, + Ye will bide in my bower a' night?" + + She birled him with the ale and wine, + As they sat down to sup: 10 + A living man he laid him down, + But I wot he ne'er rose up. + + Then up and spake the popinjay, + That flew aboun her head; + "Lady! keep weel your green cleiding 15 + Frae gude Erl Richard's bleid."-- + + "O better I'll keep my green cleiding + Frae gude Erl Richard's bleid, + Than thou canst keep thy clattering toung, + That trattles in thy head." 20 + + She has call'd upon her bower maidens, + She has call'd them ane by ane; + "There lies a dead man in my bour: + I wish that he were gane!" + + They hae booted him, and spurred him, 25 + As he was wont to ride;-- + A hunting-horn tied round his waist, + A sharpe sword by his side; + And they hae had him to the wan water, + For a' men call it Clyde.[L30] 30 + + Then up and spoke the popinjay + That sat upon the tree-- + "What hae ye done wi' Erl Richard? + Ye were his gay ladye."-- + + "Come down, come down, my bonny bird, 35 + And sit upon my hand; + And thou sall hae a cage o' gowd, + Where thou hast but the wand."-- + + "Awa! awa! ye ill woman! + Nae cage o' gowd for me; 40 + As ye hae done to Erl Richard, + Sae wad ye do to me." + + She hadna cross'd a rigg o' land, + A rigg but barely ane, + When she met wi' his auld father, 45 + Came riding all alane. + + "Where hae ye been, now, ladye fair, + Where hae ye been sae late? + We hae been seeking Erl Richard, + But him we canna get."-- 50 + + "Erl Richard kens a' the fords in Clyde, + He'll ride them ane by ane; + And though the night was ne'er sae mirk, + Erl Richard will be hame." + + O it fell anes, upon a day, 55 + The King was boun to ride; + And he has mist him, Erl Richard, + Should hae ridden on his right side. + + The ladye turn'd her round about, + Wi' mickle mournfu' din-- 60 + "It fears me sair o' Clyde water, + That he is drown'd therein."-- + + "Gar douk, gar douk," the King he cried, + "Gar douk for gold and fee; + O wha will douk for Erl Richard's sake, 65 + Or wha will douk for me?" + + They douked in at ae weil-heid, + And out aye at the other; + "We can douk nae mair for Erl Richard, + Although he were our brother." 70 + + It fell that, in that ladye's castle, + The King was boun to bed; + And up and spake the popinjay, + That flew abune his head. + + "Leave aff your douking on the day, 75 + And douk upon the night; + And where that sackless knight lies slain, + The candles will burn bright."-- + + "O there's a bird within this bower, + That sings baith sad and sweet; 80 + O there's a bird within your bower, + Keeps me frae my night's sleep." + + They left the douking on the day, + And douk'd upon the night; + And where that sackless knight lay slain, 85 + The candles burned bright.[L86] + + The deepest pot in a' the linn,[L87] + They fand Erl Richard in; + A green turf tyed across his breast, + To keep that gude lord down. 90 + + Then up and spake the King himsell, + When he saw the deadly wound-- + "O wha has slain my right-hand man, + That held my hawk and hound?"-- + + Then up and spake the popinjay, 95 + Says--"What needs a' this din? + It was his light leman took his life, + And hided him in the linn." + + She swore her by the grass sae grene, + Sae did she by the corn, 100 + She hadna seen him, Erl Richard, + Since Moninday at morn. + + "Put na the wite on me," she said, + "It was my may Catherine:" + Then they hae cut baith fern and thorn, 105 + To burn that maiden in. + + It wadna take upon her cheik, + Nor yet upon her chin; + Nor yet upon her yellow hair, + To cleanse the deadly sin. 110 + + The maiden touch'd the clay-cauld corpse, + A drap it never bled; + The ladye laid her hand on him, + And soon the ground was red. + + Out they hae ta'en her, may Catherine, 115 + And put her mistress in; + The flame tuik fast upon her cheik, + Tuik fast upon her chin; + Tuik fast upon her faire body-- + She burn'd like hollin-green.[L120] 120 + +30. _Clyde_, in Celtic, means _white_.--LOCKHART. + +86. These are unquestionably the corpse-lights, called in Wales +_Canhwyllan Cyrph_, which are sometimes seen to illuminate the spot +where a dead body is concealed. The Editor is informed, that, some years +ago, the corpse of a man, drowned in the Ettrick, below Selkirk, was +discovered by means of these candles. Such lights are common in +churchyards, and are probably of a phosphoric nature. But rustic +superstition derives them from supernatural agency, and supposes, that, +as soon as life has departed, a pale flame appears at the window of the +house, in which the person had died, and glides towards the churchyard, +tracing through every winding the route of the future funeral, and +pausing where the bier is to rest. This and other opinions, relating to +the "tomb-fires' livid gleam," seem to be of Runic extraction. SCOTT. + +87. The deep holes, scooped in the rock by the eddies of a river, are +called _pots_; the motion of the water having there some resemblance to +a boiling caldron. _Linn_, means the pool beneath a cataract. SCOTT. + +120. The lines immediately preceding, "The maiden touched," &c., and +which are restored from tradition, refer to a superstition formerly +received in most parts of Europe, and even resorted to by judicial +authority, for the discovery of murder. In Germany, this experiment was +called _bahrrecht_, or the law of the bier; because, the murdered body +being stretched upon a bier, the suspected person was obliged to put one +hand upon the wound and the other upon the mouth of the deceased, and, +in that posture, call upon heaven to attest his innocence. If, during +this ceremony, the blood gushed from the mouth, nose, or wound, a +circumstance not unlikely to happen in the course of shifting or +stirring the body, it was held sufficient evidence of the guilt of the +party. SCOTT. + + + + +EARL RICHARD. + + Obtained from recitation by Motherwell, and printed in his + _Minstrelsy_, p. 218. + + + Earl Richard is a hunting gone, + As fast as he could ride; + His hunting-horn hung about his neck, + And a small sword by his side. + + When he came to my lady's gate, 5 + He tirled at the pin; + And wha was sae ready as the lady hersell + To open and let him in? + + "O light, O light, Earl Richard," she says, + "O light and stay a' night; 10 + You shall have cheer wi' charcoal clear, + And candles burning bright." + + "I will not light, I cannot light, + I cannot light at all; + A fairer lady than ten of thee 15 + Is waiting at Richard's-wall." + + He stooped from his milk-white steed, + To kiss her rosy cheek; + She had a penknife in her hand, + And wounded him so deep. 20 + + "O lie ye there, Earl Richard," she says, + "O lie ye there till morn; + A fairer lady than ten of me + Will think lang of your coming home." + + She called her servants ane by ane, 25 + She called them twa by twa: + "I have got a dead man in my bower, + I wish he were awa." + + The ane has ta'en him by the hand, + And the other by the feet; 30 + And they've thrown him in a deep draw well, + Full fifty fathoms deep. + + Then up bespake a little bird, + That sat upon a tree: + "Gae hame, gae hame, ye fause lady, 35 + And pay your maids their fee." + + "Come down, come down, my pretty bird, + That sits upon the tree; + I have a cage of beaten gold, + I'll gie it unto thee." 40 + + "Gae hame, gae hame, ye fause lady, + And pay your maids their fee; + As ye have done to Earl Richard, + Sae wud ye do to me." + + "If I had an arrow in my hand, 45 + And a bow bent on a string; + I'd shoot a dart at thy proud heart, + Among the leaves sae green." + + + + +YOUNG REDIN. + + "From the recitation of Miss E. Beattie, of Edinburgh, a native of + Mearnsshire, who sings it to a plaintive, though somewhat monotonous + air of one measure."--KINLOCH, _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 1. + + + Young Redin's til the huntin gane, + Wi' therty lords and three; + And he has til his true-love gane, + As fast as he could hie. + + "Ye're welcome here, my young Redin, 5 + For coal and candle licht; + And sae are ye, my young Redin, + To bide wi' me the nicht." + + "I thank ye for your licht, ladie, + Sae do I for your coal; 10 + But there's thrice as fair a ladie as thee + Meets me at Brandie's well." + + Whan they were at their supper set, + And merrily drinking wine, + This ladie has tane a sair sickness, 15 + And til her bed has gane. + + Young Redin he has followed her, + And a dowie man was he; + He fund his true-love in her bouer, + And the tear was in her ee. 20 + + Whan he was in her arms laid, + And gieing her kisses sweet, + Then out she's tane a little penknife, + And wounded him sae deep. + + "O lang, lang, is the winter nicht, 25 + And slawly daws the day; + There is a slain knicht in my bouer, + And I wish he war away." + + Then up bespak her bouer-woman, + And she spak ae wi' spite:-- 30 + "An there be a slain knicht in your bouer, + It's yoursel that has the wyte." + + "O heal this deed on me, Meggy, + O heal this deed on me; + The silks that war shapen for me gen Pasche, + They sall be sewed for thee." 35 + + "O I hae heal'd on my mistress + A twalmonth and a day, + And I hae heal'd on my mistress, + Mair than I can say." 40 + + They've booted him, and they've spurred him, + As he was wont to ride:-- + A huntin horn round his neck, + And a sharp sword by his side; + In the deepest place o' Clyde's water, 45 + It's there they've made his bed. + + Sine up bespak the wylie parrot, + As he sat on the tree,-- + "And hae ye kill'd him young Redin, + Wha ne'er had love but thee!" 50 + + "Come doun, come doun, ye wylie parrot, + Come doun into my hand; + Your cage sall be o' the beaten gowd, + When now it's but the wand." + + "I winna come doun, I canna come doun, 55 + I winna come doun to thee; + For as ye've dune to young Redin, + Ye'll do the like to me; + Ye'll thraw my head aff my hause-bane, + And throw me in the sea." 60 + + O there cam seekin young Redin, + Monie a lord and knicht; + And there cam seekin young Redin, + Monie a ladie bricht. + + And they hae til his true-love gane, 65 + Thinking he was wi' her; + * * * * * * * + * * * * * * * + + "I hae na seen him, young Redin, + Sin yesterday at noon; 70 + He turn'd his stately steed about, + And hied him through the toun. + + "But ye'll seek Clyde's water up and doun, + Ye'll seek it out and in-- + I hae na seen him, young Redin, 75 + Sin yesterday at noon." + + Then up bespak young Redin's mither, + And a dowie woman was scho;-- + "There's na a place in a Clyde's water, + But my son wad gae through." 80 + + They've sought Clyde's water up and doun, + They've sought it out and in, + And the deepest place o' Clyde's water + They fund young Redin in. + + O white, white, war his wounds washen, 85 + As white as a linen clout; + But as the traitor she cam near, + His wounds they gushed out! + + "It's surely been my bouer-woman, + O ill may her betide; 90 + I ne'er wad slain him young Redin, + And thrown him in the Clyde." + + Then they've made a big bane-fire, + The bouer-woman to brin; + It tuke na on her cheek, her cheek, 95 + It tuke na on her chin, + But it tuke on the cruel hands + That put young Redin in. + + Then they're tane out the bouer-woman, + And put the ladie in: 100 + It tuke na on her cheek, her cheek, + It tuke na on her chin, + But it tuke on the fause, fause arms, + That young Redin lay in. + + + + +LORD WILLIAM. + +_Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 23. + + +This ballad was communicated to Sir Walter Scott by Mr. James Hogg, +accompanied with the following note:-- + +"I am fully convinced of the antiquity of this song; for, although much +of the language seems somewhat modernized, this must be attributed to +its currency, being much liked, and very much sung in this +neighbourhood. I can trace it back several generations, but cannot hear +of its ever having been in print. I have never heard it with any +considerable variation, save that one reciter called the dwelling of the +feigned sweet-heart, _Castleswa_." + + Lord William was the bravest knight + That dwalt in fair Scotland, + And though renown'd in France and Spain, + Fell by a ladie's hand. + + As she was walking maid alone, 5 + Down by yon shady wood, + She heard a smit o' bridle reins, + She wish'd might be for good. + + "Come to my arms, my dear Willie, + You're welcome hame to me; 10 + To best o' cheer and charcoal red,[L11] + And candle burning free."-- + + "I winna light, I darena light, + Nor come to your arms at a'; + A fairer maid than ten o' you 15 + I'll meet at Castle-law."-- + + "A fairer maid than me, Willie! + A fairer maid than me! + A fairer maid than ten o' me + Your eyes did never see."-- 20 + + He louted ower his saddle lap, + To kiss her ere they part, + And wi' a little keen bodkin, + She pierced him to the heart. + + "Ride on, ride on, Lord William now, 25 + As fast as ye can dree! + Your bonny lass at Castle-law + Will weary you to see."-- + + Out up then spake a bonny bird, + Sat high upon a tree,-- 30 + "How could you kill that noble lord? + He came to marry thee."-- + + "Come down, come down, my bonny bird, + And eat bread aff my hand! + Your cage shall be of wiry goud, 35 + Whar now it's but the wand."-- + + "Keep ye your cage o' goud, lady, + And I will keep my tree; + As ye hae done to Lord William, + Sae wad ye do to me."-- 40 + + She set her foot on her door step, + A bonny marble stane, + And carried him to her chamber, + O'er him to make her mane. + + And she has kept that good lord's corpse 45 + Three quarters of a year, + Until that word began to spread; + Then she began to fear. + + Then she cried on her waiting maid, + Aye ready at her ca'; 50 + "There is a knight into my bower, + 'Tis time he were awa."-- + + The ane has ta'en him by the head, + The ither by the feet, + And thrown him in the wan water, 55 + That ran baith wide and deep. + + "Look back, look back, now, lady fair, + On him that lo'ed ye weel! + A better man than that blue corpse + Ne'er drew a sword of steel."-- 60 + +11. _Charcoal red._ This circumstance marks the antiquity of the poem. +While wood was plenty in Scotland, charcoal was the usual fuel in the +chambers of the wealthy. SCOTT. + + + + +PRINCE ROBERT + + +Was first published in the _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. +269, and was obtained from the recitation of Miss Christian Rutherford. +Another copy, also from recitation, is subjoined. + + Prince Robert has wedded a gay ladye, + He has wedded her with a ring: + Prince Robert has wedded a gay ladye, + But he darna bring her hame. + + "Your blessing, your blessing, my mother dear! 5 + Your blessing now grant to me!"-- + "Instead of a blessing ye sall have my curse, + And you'll get nae blessing frae me."-- + + She has call'd upon her waiting-maid, + To fill a glass of wine; 10 + She has call'd upon her fause steward, + To put rank poison in. + + She has put it to her roudes lip, + And to her roudes chin; + She has put it to her fause, fause mouth, 15 + But the never a drap gaed in. + + He has put it to his bonny mouth, + And to his bonny chin, + He's put it to his cherry lip, + And sae fast the rank poison ran in. 20 + + "O ye hae poison'd your ae son, mother, + Your ae son and your heir; + O ye hae poison'd your ae son, mother, + And sons you'll never hae mair. + + "O where will I get a little boy, 25 + That will win hose and shoon, + To rin sae fast to Darlinton, + And bid fair Eleanor come?"-- + + Then up and spake a little boy, + That wad win hose and shoon,-- 30 + "O I'll away to Darlinton, + And bid fair Eleanor come."-- + + O he has run to Darlinton, + And tirled at the pin; + And wha was sae ready as Eleanor's sell 35 + To let the bonny boy in. + + "Your gude-mother has made ye a rare dinour, + She's made it baith gude and fine; + Your gude-mother has made ye a gay dinour, + And ye maun cum till her and dine."-- 40 + + It's twenty lang miles to Sillertoun town, + The langest that ever were gane: + But the steed it was wight, and the ladye was light, + And she cam linkin' in. + + But when she came to Sillertoun town, 45 + And into Sillertoun ha', + The torches were burning, the ladies were mourning, + And they were weeping a'. + + "O where is now my wedded lord, + And where now can he be? 50 + O where is now my wedded lord? + For him I canna see."-- + + "Your wedded lord is dead," she says, + "And just gane to be laid in the clay: + Your wedded lord is dead," she says, 55 + "And just gane to be buried the day. + + "Ye'se get nane o' his gowd, ye'se get nane o' his gear, + Ye'se get nae thing frae me; + Ye'se no get an inch o' his gude braid land, + Though your heart suld burst in three."-- 60 + + "I want nane o' his gowd, I want nane o' his gear, + I want nae land frae thee: + But I'll hae the rings that's on his finger, + For them he did promise to me."-- + + "Ye'se no get the rings that's on his finger, 65 + Ye'se no get them frae me; + Ye'se no get the rings that's on his finger, + An your heart suld burst in three."-- + + She's turn'd her back unto the wa', + And her face unto a rock; 70 + And there, before the mother's face, + Her very heart it broke. + + The tane was buried in Marie's kirk, + The tother in Marie's quair; + And out o' the tane there sprang a birk, 75 + And out o' the tother a brier. + + And thae twa met, and thae twa plat, + The birk but and the brier; + And by that ye may very weel ken + They were twa lovers dear. 80 + + + + +EARL ROBERT. + + +"Given," says Motherwell, "from the recitation of an old woman, a native +of Bonhill, in Dumbartonshire; and it is one of the earliest songs she +remembers of having heard chanted on the classic banks of the Water of +Leaven."--_Minstrelsy_, p. 200. + +Another copy is noted by the same editor as containing the following +stanzas:-- + + Lord Robert and Mary Florence, + They wer twa children ying; + They were scarce seven years of age + Till luve began to spring. + Lord Robert loved Mary Florence, + And she lov'd him above power; + But he durst not for his cruel mither + Bring her intill his bower. + + * * * * * + + It's fifty miles to Sittingen's rocks, + As ever was ridden or gane; + And Earl Robert has wedded a wife, + But he dare na bring her hame. + _And Earl Robert has wedded a wife_, &c. 5 + + His mother, she call'd to her waiting-maid: + "O bring me a pint of wine, + For I dinna weel ken what hour of this day + That my son Earl Robert shall dine." + + She's put it to her fause, fause cheek, + But an' her fause, fause chin; 10 + She's put it to her fause, fause lips; + But never a drap went in. + + But he's put it to his bonny cheek, + Aye and his bonny chin; + He's put it to his red rosy lips, 15 + And the poison went merrily down. + + "O where will I get a bonny boy, + That will win hose and shoon,-- + That will gang quickly to Sittingen's rocks, + And bid my lady come?" 20 + + It's out then speaks a bonny boy, + To Earl Robert was something akin: + "Many a time have I run thy errand, + But this day with the tears I'll rin." + + O when he cam to Sittingen's rocks, 25 + To the middle of a' the ha', + There were bells a ringing, and music playing, + And ladies dancing a'. + + "What news, what news, my bonny boy, + What news have ye to me? 30 + Is Earl Robert in very good health, + And the ladies of your countrie?" + + "O Earl Robert's in very good health, + And as weel as a man can be; + But his mother this night has a drink to be druken, 35 + And at it you must be." + + She called to her waiting-maid, + To bring her a riding weed; + And she called to her stable groom, + To saddle her milk-white steed. 40 + + But when she came to Earl Robert's bouir, + To the middle of a' the ha', + There were bells a ringing and sheets down hinging, + And ladies murning a'. + + "I've come for none of his gold," she said, 45 + "Nor none of his white monie; + Excepting a ring of his smallest finger, + If that you will grant me." + + "Thou'll no get none of his gold," she said. + "Nor none of his white monie; 50 + Thou'll no get a ring of his smallest finger, + Tho' thy heart should break in three." + + She set her foot unto a stone, + Her back unto a tree; + She set her foot unto a stone, 55 + And her heart did break in three! + + The one was buried in Mary's kirk, + The other in Mary's quier; + Out of the one there grew a bush, + From the other a bonnie brier. 60 + + And thir twa grew, and thir twa threw, + Till thir twa craps drew near; + So all the world may plainly see + That they lov'd each other dear. + + + + +THE WEARY COBLE O' CARGILL. + +From Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 230. + + +"This local ballad, which commemorates some real event, is given from +the recitation of an old woman, residing in the neighbourhood of Cambus +Michael, Perthshire. It possesses the elements of good poetry, and, had +it fallen into the hands of those who make no scruple of interpolating +and corrupting the text of oral song, it might have been made, with +little trouble, a very interesting and pathetic composition. + +"Kercock and Balathy are two small villages on the banks of the Tay; the +latter is nearly opposite Stobhall. According to tradition, the +ill-fated hero of the ballad had a leman in each of these places; and it +was on the occasion of his paying a visit to his Kercock love, that the +jealous dame in Balathy Toun, from a revengeful feeling, scuttled the +boat in which he was to recross the Tay to Stobhall." MOTHERWELL. + + David Drummond's destinie, + Gude man o' appearance o' Cargill; + I wat his blude rins in the flude, + Sae sair against his parents' will. + + She was the lass o' Balathy toun, 5 + And he the butler o' Stobhall; + And mony a time she wauked late, + To bore the coble o' Cargill. + + His bed was made in Kercock ha', + Of gude clean sheets and of the hay; 10 + He wudna rest ae nicht therein, + But on the prude waters he wud gae. + + His bed was made in Balathy toun, + Of the clean sheets and of the strae; + But I wat it was far better made, 15 + Into the bottom o' bonnie Tay. + + She bored the coble in seven pairts, + I wat her heart might hae been sae sair; + For there she got the bonnie lad lost, + Wi' the curly locks and the yellow hair. 20 + + He put his foot into the boat, + He little thocht o' ony ill: + But before that he was mid waters, + The weary coble began to fill. + + "Woe be to the lass o' Balathy toun, 25 + I wat an ill death may she die; + For she bored the coble in seven pairts, + And let the waters perish me! + + "O help, O help I can get nane, + Nae help o' man can to me come!" 30 + This was about his dying words, + When he was choaked up to the chin. + + "Gae tell my father and my mother, + It was naebody did me this ill; + I was a-going my ain errands, 35 + Lost at the coble o' bonnie Cargill." + + She bored the boat in seven pairts, + I wat she bored it wi' gude will; + And there they got the bonnie lad's corpse, + In the kirk-shot o' bonnie Cargill. 40 + + O a' the keys o' bonnie Stobha', + I wat they at his belt did hing; + But a' the keys of bonnie Stobha', + They now ly low into the stream. + + A braver page into his age 45 + Ne'er set a foot upon the plain; + His father to his mother said, + "O sae sune as we've wanted him! + + "I wat they had mair luve than this, + When they were young and at the scule; 50 + But for his sake she wauked late, + And bored the coble o' bonnie Cargill. + + "There's ne'er a clean sark gae on my back, + Nor yet a kame gae in my hair; + There's neither coal nor candle licht 55 + Shall shine in my bouer for ever mair. + + "At kirk nor market I'se ne'er be at, + Nor yet a blythe blink in my ee; + There's ne'er a ane shall say to anither, + That's the lassie gar'd the young man die." 60 + + Between the yetts o' bonnie Stobha', + And the kirkstyle o' bonnie Cargill, + There is mony a man and mother's son + That was at my luve's burial. + + + + +OLD ROBIN OF PORTINGALE. + +Percy's _Reliques of English Poetry_, iii. 88. + + +"From an ancient copy in the Editor's folio MS., which was judged to +require considerable corrections. + +"In the former edition the hero of this piece had been called Sir Robin, +but that title not being in the MS. is now omitted. + +"Giles, steward to a rich old merchant trading to Portugal, is qualified +with the title of _Sir_, not as being a knight, but rather, I conceive, +as having received an inferior order of priesthood." PERCY. + + Let never again soe old a man + Marrye soe yonge a wife, + As did old Robin of Portingale; + Who may rue all the dayes of his life. + + For the mayors daughter of Lin, God wott 5 + He chose her to his wife, + And thought with her to have lived in love, + But they fell to hate and strife. + + They scarce were in their wed-bed laid, + And scarce was hee asleepe, 10 + But upp shee rose, and forth shee goes, + To the steward, and gan to weepe. + + "Sleepe you, wake you, faire Sir Gyles? + Or be you not within? + Sleepe you, wake you, faire Sir Gyles, 15 + Arise and let me inn." + + "O I am waking, sweete," he said, + "Sweete ladye, what is your will?" + "I have onbethought me of a wile[L19] + How my wed lord weel spill. 20 + + "Twenty-four good knights," shee sayes, + "That dwell about this towne, + Even twenty-four of my next cozens + Will helpe to dinge him downe." + + All that beheard his litle footepage, 25 + As he watered his masters steed; + And for his masters sad perille + His verry heart did bleed. + + He mourned, sighed and wept full sore; + I sweare by the holy roode, 30 + The teares he for his master wept + Were blent water and bloude.[L32] + + And that beheard his deare master + As he stood at his garden pale: + Sayes, "Ever alacke, my litle foot-page, 35 + What causes thee to wail? + + "Hath any one done to thee wronge, + Any of thy fellowes here? + Or is any of thy good friends dead, + That thou shedst manye a teare? 40 + + "Or, if it be my head bookes-man, + Aggrieved he shal bee: + For no man here within my howse + Shall doe wrong unto thee." + + "O it is not your head bookes-man, 45 + Nor none of his degree: + But, on to-morrow ere it be noone[L47] + All deemed to die are yee: + "And of that bethank your head steward, + And thank your gay ladye." 50 + + "If this be true, my litle foot-page, + The heyre of my land thoust bee:" + + "If it be not true, my dear master, + No good death let me die:" + "If it be not true, thou litle foot-page, 55 + A dead corse shalt thou bee. + + "O call now downe my faire ladye, + O call her downe to mee; + And tell my ladye gay how sicke, + And like to die I bee." 60 + + Downe then came his ladye faire, + All clad in purple and pall: + The rings that were on her fingers, + Cast light thorrow the hall. + + "What is your will, my own wed-lord? 65 + "What is your will with mee?" + "O see, my ladye deere, how sicke, + And like to die I bee." + + "And thou be sicke, my own wed-lord, + Soe sore it grieveth me: 70 + But my five maydens and myselfe + Will make the bedde for thee. + + "And at the waking of your first sleepe, + We will a hott drinke make; + And at the waking of your next sleepe,[L75] 75 + Your sorrowes we will slake." + + He put a silk cote on his backe, + And mail of manye a fold; + And hee putt a steele cap on his head, + Was gilt with good red gold. 80 + + He layd a bright browne sword by his side, + And another att his feete: + [And twentye good knights he placed at hand, + To watch him in his sleepe.] + + And about the middle time of the night, 85 + Came twentye-four traitours inn; + Sir Giles he was the foremost man, + The leader of that ginn. + + Old Robin with his bright browne sword, + Sir Gyles head soon did winn; 90 + And scant of all those twenty-four + Went out one quick agenn. + + None save only a litle foot-page, + Crept forth at a window of stone; + And he had two armes when he came in, 95 + And he went back with one. + + Upp then came that ladie gaye, + With torches burning bright; + She thought to have brought Sir Gyles a drinke, + Butt she found her owne wedd knight. 100 + + The first thinge that she stumbled on + It was Sir Gyles his foote; + Sayes, "Ever alacke, and woe is mee! + Here lyes my sweete hart-roote." + + The next thinge that she stumbled on 105 + It was Sir Gyles his heade; + Sayes, "Ever alacke, and woe is me! + Heere lyes my true love deade." + + Hee cutt the pappes beside her brest, + And didd her body spille; 110 + He cutt the eares beside her heade, + And bade her love her fille. + + He called up then up his litle foot-page, + And made him there his heyre; + And sayd, "Henceforth my worldlye goodes, 115 + And countrie I forsweare." + + He shope the crosse on his right shoulder,[L117] + Of the white clothe and the redde,[L118] + And went him into the holy land, + Wheras Christ was quicke and dead. 120 + +19, unbethought. + +MS. 32, blend. + +47, or to-morrow. + +MS. 75, first. + +117. Every person who went on a Croisade to the Holy Land usually wore a +cross on his upper garment, on the right shoulder, as a badge of his +profession. Different nations were distinguished by crosses of different +colors: the English wore white, the French red, &c. This circumstance +seems to be confounded in the ballad. PERCY. + +MS. 118, fleshe. + + + + +FAUSE FOODRAGE. + +First published in _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 220. + + +"This ballad has been popular in many parts of Scotland. It is chiefly +given from Mrs. Brown of Falkland's MSS. The expression, + + "The boy stared wild like a gray goss-hawk," _v._ 31, + +strongly resembles that in _Hardyknute_, + + "Norse e'en like gray goss-hawk stared wild;" + +a circumstance which led the Editor to make the strictest inquiry into +the authenticity of the song. But every doubt was removed by the +evidence of a lady of high rank, who not only recollected the ballad, as +having amused her infancy, but could repeat many of the verses, +particularly those beautiful stanzas from the 20th to the 25th. The +Editor is, therefore, compelled to believe, that the author of +_Hardyknute_ copied the old ballad, if the coincidence be not altogether +accidental." SCOTT. + + King Easter has courted her for her lands, + King Wester for her fee, + King Honour for her comely face, + And for her fair bodie. + + They had not been four months married, 5 + As I have heard them tell, + Until the nobles of the land + Against them did rebel. + + And they cast kevils them amang, + And kevils them between; 10 + And they cast kevils them amang, + Wha suld gae kill the king. + + O some said yea, and some said nay, + Their words did not agree; + Till up and got him, Fause Foodrage, 15 + And swore it suld be he. + + When bells were rung, and mass was sung, + And a' men bound to bed, + King Honour and his gay ladye + In a high chamber were laid. 20 + + Then up and raise him, Fause Foodrage, + When a' were fast asleep, + And slew the porter in his lodge, + That watch and ward did keep. + + O four and twenty silver keys 25 + Hang hie upon a pin; + And aye as ae door he did unlock, + He has fasten'd it him behind. + + Then up and raise him, King Honour, + Says--"What means a' this din? 30 + Or what's the matter, Fause Foodrage, + Or wha has loot you in?"-- + + "O ye my errand weel sall learn, + Before that I depart."-- + Then drew a knife, baith lang and sharp, 35 + And pierced him to the heart. + + Then up and got the Queen hersell, + And fell low down on her knee, + "O spare my life, now, Fause Foodrage! + For I never injured thee. 40 + + "O spare my life, now, Fause Foodrage! + Until I lighter be! + And see gin it be lad or lass, + King Honour has left me wi'."-- + + "O gin it be a lass," he says, 45 + "Weel nursed it sall be; + But gin it be a lad bairn, + He sall be hanged hie. + + "I winna spare for his tender age, + Nor yet for his hie, hie kin; 50 + But soon as e'er he born is, + He sall mount the gallows pin."-- + + O four-and-twenty valiant knights + Were set the Queen to guard; + And four stood aye at her bour door, 55 + To keep both watch and ward. + + But when the time drew near an end, + That she suld lighter be, + She cast about to find a wile, + To set her body free. 60 + + O she has birled these merry young men + With the ale but and the wine, + Until they were a' deadly drunk + As any wild-wood swine. + + "O narrow, narrow is this window, 65 + And big, big am I grown!"-- + Yet through the might of Our Ladye, + Out at it she is gone. + + She wander'd up, she wander'd down, + She wander'd out and in; 70 + And, at last, into the very swine's stythe, + The Queen brought forth a son. + + Then they cast kevils them amang, + Which suld gae seek the Queen; + And the kevil fell upon Wise William, 75 + And he sent his wife for him. + + O when she saw Wise William's wife, + The Queen fell on her knee: + "Win up, win up, madam!" she says: + "What needs this courtesie?"-- 80 + + "O out o' this I winna rise, + Till a boon ye grant to me; + To change your lass for this lad bairn, + King Honour left me wi'. + + "And ye maun learn my gay goss-hawk 85 + Right weel to breast a steed; + And I sall learn your turtle dow + As weel to write and read. + + "And ye maun learn my gay goss-hawk + To wield both bow and brand; 90 + And I sall learn your turtle dow + To lay gowd wi' her hand. + + "At kirk and market when we meet, + We'll dare make nae avowe, + But--'Dame, how does my gay goss-hawk?' 95 + 'Madame, how does my dow?'" + + When days were gane, and years came on, + Wise William he thought lang; + And he has ta'en King Honour's son + A-hunting for to gang. 100 + + It sae fell out, at this hunting, + Upon a simmer's day, + That they came by a bonny castell, + Stood on a sunny brae. + + "O dinna ye see that bonny castell, 105 + Wi' halls and towers sae fair? + Gin ilka man had back his ain, + Of it you suld be heir." + + "How I suld be heir of that castell, + In sooth, I canna see; 110 + For it belangs to Fause Foodrage, + And he is na kin to me."-- + + "O gin ye suld kill him, Fause Foodrage, + You would do but what was right; + For I wot he kill'd your father dear, 115 + Or ever ye saw the light. + + "And gin ye suld kill him, Fause Foodrage, + There is no man durst you blame; + For he keeps your mother a prisoner, + And she darna take ye hame."-- 120 + + The boy stared wild like a gray goss-hawk, + Says,--"What may a' this mean?" + "My boy, ye are King Honour's son, + And your mother's our lawful queen." + + "O gin I be King Honour's son, 125 + By our Ladye I swear, + This night I will that traitor slay, + And relieve my mother dear!"-- + + He has set his bent bow to his breast, + And leaped the castell wa'; 130 + And soon he has seized on Fause Foodrage, + Wha loud for help 'gan ca'. + + "O haud your tongue, now, Fause Foodrage, + Frae me ye shanna flee;"-- + Syne pierced him through the fause, fause heart, 135 + And set his mother free. + + And he has rewarded Wise William + Wi' the best half o' his land; + And sae has he the turtle dow + Wi' the truth o' his right hand. 140 + + + + +BONNIE ANNIE. + +From Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 123. + + +"There is a prevalent belief among seafaring people, that if a person +who has committed any heinous crime be on ship-board, the vessel, as if +conscious of its guilty burden, becomes unmanageable, and will not sail +till the offender be removed: to discover whom, they usually resort to +the trial of those on board, by casting lots; and the individual upon +whom the lot falls, is declared the criminal, it being believed that +Divine Providence interposes in this manner to point out the guilty +person."--KINLOCH. + +Motherwell is inclined to think this an Irish ballad, though popular in +Scotland. + +With Bonnie Annie may be compared _Jon Rimaardsöns Skriftemaal_, _Danske +Viser_, ii. 220; or, _Herr Peders Sjöresa, Svenska Folk-Visor_, ii. 31, +Arwiddson, ii. 5 (translated in _Literature and Romance of Northern +Europe_, 276). + + There was a rich lord, and he lived in Forfar, + He had a fair lady, and one only dochter. + O she was fair, O dear! she was bonnie, + A ship's captain courted her to be his honey. + + There cam a ship's captain out owre the sea sailing, 5 + He courted this young thing till he got her wi' bairn:-- + "Ye'll steal your father's gowd, and your mother's money, + And I'll mak ye a lady in Ireland bonnie." + + She's stown her father's gowd and her mother's money, + But she was never a lady in Ireland bonnie. 10 + * * * * + + "There's fey fowk in our ship, she winna sail for me, + There's fey fowk in our ship, she winna sail for me." + They've casten black bullets twice six and forty, + And ae the black bullet fell on bonnie Annie. + + "Ye'll tak me in your arms twa, lo, lift me cannie, 15 + Throw me out owre board, your ain dear Annie." + He has tane her in his arms twa, lo, lifted her cannie, + He has laid her on a bed of down, his ain dear Annie. + + "What can a woman do, love, I'll do for ye;" + "Muckle can a woman do, ye canna do for me.-- + Lay about, steer about, lay our ship cannie, 21 + Do all you can to save my dear Annie." + + "I've laid about, steer'd about, laid about cannie, + But all I can do, she winna sail for me. + Ye'll tak her in your arms twa, lo, lift her cannie, 25 + And throw her out owre board, your ain dear Annie." + + He has tane her in his arms twa, lo, lifted her cannie, + He has thrown her out owre board, his ain dear Annie: + As the ship sailed, bonnie Annie she swam, + And she was at Ireland as soon as them. 30 + + They made his love a coffin of the gowd sae yellow, + And they buried her deep on the high banks of Yarrow.[L32] + +32. The last two lines are derived from Motherwell, p. xcix. +The text in Kinloch is corrupt, and stands thus:-- + + He made his love a coffin off the Goats of Yerrow, + And buried his bonnie love doun in a sea valley. + + + + +WILLIAM GUISEMAN. + +From Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 156. + + + "My name is William Guiseman, + In London I do dwell; + I have committed murder, + And that is known right well; + I have committed murder, 5 + And that is known right well, + And it's for mine offence I must die. + + "I lov'd a neighbour's dochter, + And with her I did lie; + I did dissemble with her 10 + Myself to satisfy; + I did dissemble with her + Myself to satisfy, + And it's for mine offence I must die. + + "Sae cunningly's I kept her, 15 + Until the fields war toom; + Sae cunningly's I trysted her + Unto yon shade o' broom; + And syne I took my wills o' her, + And then I flang her doun, 20 + And it's for mine offence I must die. + + "Sae cunningly's I killed her, + Who should have been my wife; + Sae cursedly's I killed her, + And with my cursed knife; 25 + Sae cursedly's I killed her, + Who should have been my wife, + And it's for mine offence I must die. + + "Six days she lay in murder, + Before that she was found; 30 + Six days she lay in murder, + Upon the cursed ground; + Six days she lay in murder, + Before that she was found, + And it's for mine offence I must die. 35 + + "O all the neighbours round about, + They said it had been I; + I put my foot on gude shipboard, + The county to defy; + The ship she wadna sail again, 40 + But hoisted to and fro, + And it's for mine offence I must die. + + "O up bespak the skipper-boy, + I wat he spak too high; + 'There's sinful men amongst us, 45 + The seas will not obey;' + O up bespak the skipper-boy, + I wat he spak too high, + And it's for mine offence I must die. + + "O we cuist cavels us amang, 50 + The cavel fell on me; + O we cuist cavels us amang, + The cavel fell on me; + O we cuist cavels us amang, + The cavel fell on me, 55 + And it's for mine offence I must die. + + "I had a loving mother + Who of me took gret care; + She wad hae gien the gold sae red, + To have bought me from that snare; 60 + But the gold could not be granted, + The gallows pays a share, + And it's for mine offence I must die." + + + + +THE ENCHANTED RING + + +Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 169. Annexed is a +fragment published by Jamieson, under the title of _Bonny Bee-Ho'm_. + + In Lauderdale I chanc'd to walk, + And heard a lady's moan, + Lamenting for her dearest dear, + And aye she cried, ohon! + + "Sure never a maid that e'er drew breath 5 + Had harder fate than me; + I'd never a lad but one on earth, + They forc'd him to the sea. + + "The ale shall ne'er be brewin o' malt, + Neither by sea nor land, 10 + That ever mair shall cross my hause, + Till my love comes to hand. + + A handsome lad wi' shoulders broad, + Gold yellow was his hair; + None of our Scottish youths on earth 15 + That with him could compare. + + She thought her love was gone to sea, + And landed in Bahome; + But he was in a quiet chamber, + Hearing his lady's moan. 20 + + "Why make ye all this moan, lady? + Why make ye all this moan? + For I'm deep sworn on a book, + I must go to Bahome. + + "Traitors false for to subdue, 25 + O'er seas I'll make me boun', + That have trepan'd our kind Scotchmen, + Like dogs to ding them down." + + "Weell, take this ring, this royal thing, + Whose virtue is unknown; 30 + As lang's this ring's your body on, + Your blood shall ne'er be drawn. + + "But if this ring shall fade or stain, + Or change to other hue, + Come never mair to fair Scotland, 35 + If ye're a lover true." + + Then this couple they did part + With a sad heavy moan; + The wind was fair, the ship was rare, + They landed in Bahome. 40 + + But in that place they had not been + A month but barely one, + Till he look'd on his gay gold ring,[L43] + And riven was the stone. + + Time after this was not expir'd 45 + A month but scarcely three, + Till black and ugly was the ring, + And the stone was burst in three.[L48] + + "Fight on, fight on, you merry men all, + With you I'll fight no more; 50 + I will gang to some holy place, + Pray to the King of Glore." + + Then to the chapel he is gone, + And knelt most piteouslie, + For seven days and seven nights, 55 + Till blood ran frae his knee. + + "Ye'll take my jewels that's in Bahome, + And deal them liberallie, + To young that cannot, and old that mannot, + The blind that does not see. 60 + + "Give maist to women in child-bed laid, + Can neither fecht nor flee: + I hope she's in the heavens high, + That died for love of me." + + The knights they wrang their white fingers, 65 + The ladies tore their hair; + The women that ne'er had children born, + In swoon they down fell there. + + But in what way the knight expir'd, + No tongue will e'er declare; 70 + So this doth end my mournful song, + From me ye'll get nae mair. + +43, they look'd. + +48, And stone. + + + + +BONNY BEE-HO'M. + + +Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, i. 184, from Mrs. Brown's MS., the +interpolations of the editor being omitted. + + By Arthur's dale as late I went, + I heard a heavy moan; + I heard a lady lamenting sair. + And ay she cried "ohon!" + + "Ohon, alas! what shall I do, 5 + Tormented night and day? + I never loved a love but ane, + And now he's gone away. + + "But I will do for my true love + What ladies would think sair; 10 + For seven years shall come and gae, + Ere a kaime gae in my hair. + + "There shall neither a shoe gae on my foot, + Nor a kaime gae in my hair, + Nor ever a coal or candle light 15 + Shine in my bower nae mair." + + She thought her love had been on sea, + Fast sailing to Bee-Ho'm; + But he was still in a quiet chamber, + Hearing his lady's moan. 20 + + "Be hush'd, be hush'd, my lady dear, + I pray thee moan not so; + For I am deep sworn on a book + To Bee-Ho'm for to go." + + She's gien him a chain o' the beaten goud, 25 + And a ring with a ruby stone: + "As lang as this chain your body binds, + Your blood can never be drawn. + + "But gin this ring should fade or fail, + Or the stone should change its hue, 30 + Be sure your love is dead and gone, + Or she has proved untrue." + + * * * * * + + He had not been at bonny Bee-Ho'm + A twelvemonth and a day, + Till looking on his gay gold ring, 35 + The stone grew dark and gray. + + "O ye tak my riches to Bee-Ho'm, + And deal them presentlie, + To the young that canna, the old that manna, + The blind that downa see." 40 + + Now Death has come intill his bower, + And split his heart in twain: + Sae their twa sauls flew up to heaven, + And there shall ever remain. + + + + +THE THREE RAVENS. + + +From Ritson's _Ancient English Songs_, ii. 53. It is there reprinted +from Ravenscroft's _Melismata_, 1611. Another copy follows, taken from +Scott's _Minstrelsy_. Motherwell has recast the ballad in modern style, +p. 7 of his collection. + + There were three ravens sat on a tree, + _Downe, a downe, hay downe, hay downe_, + There were three ravens sat on a tree, + _With a downe_, + There were three ravens sat on a tree, + They were as blacke as they might be, + _With a downe, derrie, derrie, derrie, downe, downe_. + + The one of them said to his mate, + "Where shall we our breakefast take?"-- + + "Downe in yonder greene field, 5 + There lies a knight slain under his shield. + + "His hounds they lie downe at his feete, + So well they their master keepe. + + "His haukes they flie so eagerly, + There's no fowle dare him com nie." 10 + + Downe there comes a fallow doe, + As great with yong as she might goe. + + She lift up his bloudy hed, + And kist his wounds that were so red. + + She got him up upon her backe, 15 + And carried him to earthen lake. + + She buried him before the prime, + She was dead herselfe ere even-song time. + + God send every gentleman, + Such haukes, such houndes, and such a leman. 20 + + + + +THE TWA CORBIES. + + +From _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, ii. 359. It was communicated +to Scott by Mr. Sharpe, as written down, from tradition, by a lady. + + As I was walking all alane, + I heard twa corbies making a mane; + The tane unto the t'other say, + "Where sall we gang and dine to-day?"-- + + "In behint yon auld fail dyke, 5 + I wot there lies a new-slain knight; + And naebody kens that he lies there, + But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair. + + "His hound is to the hunting gane, + His hawk, to fetch the wild-fowl hame, 10 + His lady's ta'en another mate, + So we may mak our dinner sweet. + + "Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane, + And I'll pick out his bonny blue een: + Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair 15 + We'll theek our nest when it grows bare. + + "Mony a one for him makes mane, + But nane sall ken where he is gane: + O'er his white banes, when they are bare, + The wind sall blaw for evermair."-- 20 + + + + +THE DOWIE DENS OF YARROW. + +_Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 143. + + +"This ballad, which is a very great favourite among the inhabitants of +Ettrick Forest, is universally believed to be founded in fact. I found +it easy to collect a variety of copies; but very difficult indeed to +select from them such a collated edition as might, in any degree, suit +the taste of 'these more light and giddy-paced times.' + +"Tradition places the event, recorded in the song, very early; and it is +probable that the ballad was composed soon afterwards, although the +language has been gradually modernized, in the course of its +transmission to us, through the inaccurate channel of oral tradition. +The bard does not relate particulars, but barely the striking outlines +of a fact, apparently so well known when he wrote, as to render minute +detail as unnecessary as it is always tedious and unpoetical. + +"The hero of the ballad was a knight of great bravery, called Scott, who +is said to have resided at Kirkhope, or Oakwood Castle, and is, in +tradition, termed the Baron of Oakwood. The estate of Kirkhope belonged +anciently to the Scotts of Harden: Oakwood is still their property, and +has been so from time immemorial. The Editor was, therefore, led to +suppose that the hero of the ballad might have been identified with John +Scott, sixth son of the Laird of Harden, murdered in Ettrick Forest by +his kinsmen, the Scotts of Gilmanscleugh. (See notes to _Jamie Telfer_.) +This appeared the more probable, as the common people always affirm that +this young man was treacherously slain, and that, in evidence thereof, +his body remained uncorrupted for many years; so that even the roses on +his shoes seemed as fresh as when he was first laid in the family vault +at Hassendean. But from a passage in Nisbet's Heraldry, he now believes +the ballad refers to a duel fought at Deucharswyre, of which Annan's +Treat is a part, betwixt John Scott of Tushielaw and his brother-in-law, +Walter Scott, third son of Robert of Thirlestane, in which the latter +was slain. + +"In ploughing Annan's Treat, a huge monumental stone, with an +inscription, was discovered; but being rather scratched than engraved, +and the lines being run through each other, it is only possible to read +one or two Latin words. It probably records the event of the combat. The +person slain was the male ancestor of the present Lord Napier. + +"Tradition affirms, that the hero of the song (be he who he may) was +murdered by the brother, either of his wife or betrothed bride. The +alleged cause of malice was the lady's father having proposed to endow +her with half of his property, upon her marriage with a warrior of such +renown. The name of the murderer is said to have been Annan, and the +place of combat is still called Annan's Treat. It is a low muir, on the +banks of the Yarrow, lying to the west of Yarrow Kirk. Two tall unhewn +masses of stone are erected, about eighty yards distant from each other; +and the least child, that can herd a cow, will tell the passenger, that +there lie 'the two lords, who were slain in single combat.' + +"It will be, with many readers, the greatest recommendation of these +verses, that they are supposed to have suggested to Mr. Hamilton of +Bangour, the modern ballad, beginning, + + 'Busk ye, busk ye, my bonny bonny bride.' + +"A fragment, apparently regarding the story of the following ballad, but +in a different measure, occurs in Mr. Herd's MS., and runs thus:-- + + 'When I look east, my heart is sair, + But when I look west, it's mair and mair; + For then I see the braes o' Yarrow, + And there, for aye, I lost my marrow.'" + +We have added an uncollated copy from Buchan's _Ballads of the North of +Scotland_. Another is furnished by Motherwell, _Minstrelsy_, p. 252. +Some of Scott's verses are also found in Herd's fragment, (_Scottish +Songs_, i. 202,) and Buchan's _Haughs o' Yarrow_, ii. 211. _The Dowy +Den_, in Evans's collection, iii. 342, is the _caput mortuum_ of this +spirited ballad. + + Late at e'en, drinking the wine, + And ere they paid the lawing, + They set a combat them between, + To fight it in the dawing. + + "O stay at hame, my noble lord, 5 + O stay at hame, my marrow! + My cruel brother will you betray + On the dowie houms of Yarrow."-- + + "O fare ye weel, my ladye gaye! + O fare ye weel, my Sarah! 10 + For I maun gae, though I ne'er return + Frae the dowie banks o' Yarrow." + + She kiss'd his cheek, she kaim'd his hair, + As oft she had done before, O; + She belted him with his noble brand, 15 + And he's away to Yarrow. + + As he gaed up the Tennies bank,[L17] + I wot he gaed wi' sorrow, + Till, down in a den, he spied nine arm'd men, + On the dowie houms of Yarrow. 20 + + "O come ye here to part your land, + The bonnie Forest thorough? + Or come ye here to wield your brand, + On the dowie houms of Yarrow?"-- + + "I come not here to part my land, 25 + And neither to beg nor borrow; + I come to wield my noble brand, + On the bonnie banks of Yarrow. + + "If I see all, ye're nine to ane; + And that's an unequal marrow; 30 + Yet will I fight, while lasts my brand, + On the bonnie banks of Yarrow." + + Four has he hurt, and five has slain, + On the bloody braes of Yarrow, + Till that stubborn knight came him behind, 35 + And ran his body thorough. + + "Gae hame, gae hame, good-brother John, + And tell your sister Sarah, + To come and lift her leafu' lord; + He's sleepin sound on Yarrow."-- 40 + + "Yestreen I dream'd a dolefu' dream; + I fear there will be sorrow! + I dream'd I pu'd the heather green, + Wi' my true love, on Yarrow. + + "O gentle wind, that bloweth south, 45 + From where my love repaireth, + Convey a kiss from his dear mouth, + And tell me how he fareth! + + "But in the glen strive armed men; + They've wrought me dole and sorrow; 50 + They've slain--the comeliest knight they've slain-- + He bleeding lies on Yarrow." + + As she sped down yon high high hill, + She gaed wi' dole and sorrow, + And in the den spied ten slain men, 55 + On the dowie banks of Yarrow. + + She kissed his cheek, she kaim'd his hair, + She searched his wounds all thorough, + She kiss'd them, till her lips grew red, + On the dowie houms of Yarrow. 60 + + "Now haud your tongue, my daughter dear! + For a' this breeds but sorrow; + I'll wed ye to a better lord, + Than him ye lost on Yarrow."-- + + "O haud your tongue, my father dear! 65 + Ye mind me but of sorrow; + A fairer rose did never bloom + Than now lies cropp'd on Yarrow." + +17. _The Tennies_ is the name of a farm of the Duke of Buccleuch's, a +little below Yarrow Kirk. + + + + +THE BRAES O' YARROW. + + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 203. Repeated in +the xviith volume of the Percy Society Publications. + + Ten lords sat drinking at the wine, + Intill a morning early; + There fell a combat them among, + It must be fought,--nae parly. + + "O stay at hame, my ain gude lord, 5 + O stay, my ain dear marrow." + "Sweetest min', I will be thine, + And dine wi' you to-morrow." + + She's kiss'd his lips, and comb'd his hair, + As she had done before, O; 10 + Gied him a brand down by his side, + And he is on to Yarrow. + + As he gaed ower yon dowie knowe, + As aft he'd dune before, O; + Nine armed men lay in a den, 15 + Upo' the braes o' Yarrow. + + "O came ye here to hunt or hawk, + As ye hae dune before, O? + Or came ye here to wiel' your brand, + Upo' the braes o' Yarrow?" 20 + + "I came na here to hunt nor hawk, + As I hae dune before, O; + But I came here to wiel' my brand, + Upon the braes o' Yarrow." + + Four he hurt, and five he slew, 25 + Till down it fell himsell, O; + There stood a fause lord him behin', + Who thrust him thro' body and mell, O. + + "Gae hame, gae hame, my brother John, + And tell your sister sorrow; 30 + Your mother to come take up her son, + Aff o' the braes o' Yarrow." + + As he gaed ower yon high, high hill, + As he had dune before, O; + There he met his sister dear, 35 + Came rinnin fast to Yarrow. + + "I dreamt a dream last night," she says, + "I wish it binna sorrow; + I dreamt I was pu'ing the heather green,[L39] + Upo' the braes o' Yarrow." 40 + + "I'll read your dream, sister," he says, + "I'll read it into sorrow; + Ye're bidden gae take up your love, + He's sleeping sound on Yarrow." + + She's torn the ribbons frae her head, 45 + They were baith thick and narrow; + She's kilted up her green claithing, + And she's awa' to Yarrow. + + She's taen him in her arms twa, + And gien him kisses thorough, 50 + And wi' her tears she bath'd his wounds, + Upo' the braes o' Yarrow. + + Her father looking ower his castle wa', + Beheld his daughter's sorrow; + "O had your tongue, daughter," he says, 55 + "And let be a' your sorrow, + I'll wed you wi' a better lord, + Than he that died on Yarrow." + + "O had your tongue, father," she says, + "And let be till to-morrow; 60 + A better lord there cou'dna be + Than he that died on Yarrow." + + She kiss'd his lips, and comb'd his hair, + As she had dune before, O; + Then wi' a crack her heart did brack, 65 + Upon the braes o' Yarrow. + +39. To dream of any thing green is regarded in Scotland as unlucky. + + + + +SIR JAMES THE ROSE. + + +Pinkerton first published this piece in his _Scottish Tragic Ballads_, +p. 61. In a note, it is said to have been taken "from a modern edition +in one sheet, 12mo. after the old copy." Motherwell gives another +version "as it occurs in early stall prints," (_Minstrelsy_, p. 321,) +and suspects a few conjectural emendations in Pinkerton's text. The +passage from v. 51 to v. 59 is apparently defective, and has, probably, +been tampered with; but Pinkerton's copy is on the whole much better +than Motherwell's, or than Whitelaw's, (_Scottish Ballads_, 39,) which +professes to be given chiefly from oral recitations. + +Michael Bruce's _Sir James the Rose_ will be found in another part of +this collection. In Caw's _Museum_ (p. 290) is a ballad in the worst +possible taste, styled _Elfrida and Sir James of Perth_, which seems to +be a mere disfiguration of Bruce's. + + O heard ye o' Sir James the Rose, + The young heir o' Buleighan? + For he has kill'd a gallant squire, + Whase friends are out to tak him. + + Now he has gane to the house o' Mar, 5 + Whar nane might seik to find him; + To see his dear he did repair, + Weining she wold befreind him. + + "Whar are ye gaing Sir James," she said, + "O whar awa are ye riding?" 10 + "I maun be bound to a foreign land, + And now I'm under hiding. + + "Whar sall I gae, whar sall I rin, + Whar sall I rin to lay me? + For I ha kill'd a gallant squire, 15 + And his friends seik to slay me." + + "O gae ye down to yon laigh house, + I sall pay there your lawing; + And as I am your leman trew, + I'll meet ye at the dawing." 20 + + He turned him richt and round about, + And rowd him in his brechan: + And laid him doun to tak a sleip, + In the lawlands o' Buleighan. + + He was nae weil gane out o' sicht, 25 + Nor was he past Milstrethen, + Whan four and twenty belted knichts + Cam riding owr the Leathen. + + "O ha ye seen Sir James the Rose, + The young heir o' Buleighan? 30 + For he has kill'd a gallant squire, + And we are sent to tak him." + + "Yea, I ha seen Sir James," she said, + "He past by here on Monday; + Gin the steed be swift that he rides on, 35 + He's past the Hichts of Lundie." + + But as wi speid they rade awa, + She leudly cryd behind them; + "Gin ye'll gie me a worthy meid, + I'll tell ye whar to find him." 40 + + "O tell fair maid, and on our band, + Ye'se get his purse and brechan." + "He's in the bank aboon the mill, + In the lawlands o' Buleighan." + + Than out and spak Sir John the Graham, 45 + Who had the charge a keiping, + "It's neer be said, my stalwart feres, + We kill'd him whan a sleiping." + + They seized his braid sword and his targe, + And closely him surrounded: 50 + "O pardon! mercy! gentlemen," + He then fou loudly sounded. + + "Sic as ye gae, sic ye sall hae, + Nae grace we shaw to thee can." + "Donald my man, wait till I fa, 55 + And ye sall hae my brechan; + Ye'll get my purse thouch fou o' gowd + To tak me to Loch Lagan." + + Syne they take out his bleiding heart, + And set it on a speir; 60 + Then tuke it to the house o' Mar, + And shawd it to his deir. + + "We cold nae gie Sir James's purse, + We cold nae gie his brechan; + But ye sall ha his bleeding heart, 65 + Bot and his bleeding tartan." + + "Sir James the Rose, O for thy sake + My heart is now a breaking, + Curs'd be the day I wrocht thy wae, + Thou brave heir of Buleighan!" 70 + + Then up she raise, and furth she gaes, + And, in that hour o' tein, + She wanderd to the dowie glen, + And nevir mair was sein. + + + + +GRĈME AND BEWICK. + + +From _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 69. A single improved +reading is adopted from a Newcastle chap-book. + + "Given, in the first edition, from the recitation of a gentleman, + who professed to have forgotten some verses. These have, in the + present edition, been partly restored, from a copy obtained by the + recitation of an ostler in Carlisle, which has also furnished some + slight alterations." + + "The ballad is remarkable, as containing, probably, the very latest + allusion to the institution of brotherhood in arms, which was held + so sacred in the days of chivalry, and whose origin may be traced up + to the Scythian ancestors of Odin." SCOTT. + + Gude Lord Grĉme is to Carlisle gane, + Sir Robert Bewick there met he, + And arm in arm to the wine they did go, + And they drank till they were baith merrie. + + Gude Lord Grĉme has ta'en up the cup, 5 + "Sir Robert Bewick, and here's to thee! + And here's to our twae sons at hame! + For they like us best in our ain countrie."-- + + "O were your son a lad like mine, + And learn'd some books that he could read, 10 + They might hae been twae brethren bauld, + And they might hae bragged the Border side. + + "But your son's a lad, and he is but bad, + And billie to my son he canna be;" + * * * * + + "I sent him to the schools, and he wadna learn;[L15] 15 + I bought him books, and he wadna read;[L16] + But my blessing shall he never earn, + Till I see how his arm can defend his head."-- + + Gude Lord Grĉme has a reckoning call'd, + A reckoning then called he; 20 + And he paid a crown, and it went roun', + It was all for the gude wine and free.[L22] + + And he has to the stable gane, + Where there stude thirty steeds and three; + He's ta'en his ain horse amang them a', 25 + And hame he rade sae manfullie. + + "Welcome, my auld father!" said Christie Grĉme, + "But where sae lang frae hame were ye?"-- + "It's I hae been at Carlisle town, + And a baffled man by thee I be. 30 + + "I hae been at Carlisle town, + Where Sir Robert Bewick, he met me; + He says ye're a lad, and ye are but bad, + And billie to his son ye canna be. + + "I sent ye to the schools, and ye wadna learn; 35 + I bought ye books, and ye wadna read; + Therefore my blessing ye shall never earn, + Till I see with Bewick thou save thy head." + + "Now, God forbid, my auld father, + That ever sic a thing suld be! 40 + Billie Bewick was my master, and I was his scholar,[L41] + And aye sae weel as he learned me." + + "O hald thy tongue, thou limmer loon, + And of thy talking let me be! + If thou does na end me this quarrel soon, 45 + There is my glove, I'll fight wi' thee." + + Then Christie Grĉme he stooped low + Unto the ground, you shall understand;-- + "O father, put on your glove again, + The wind has blown it from your hand?" 50 + + "What's that thou says, thou limmer loon? + How dares thou stand to speak to me? + If thou do not end this quarrel soon, + There's my right hand thou shalt fight with me."-- + + Then Christie Grĉme's to his chamber gane, 55 + To consider weel what then should be; + Whether he should fight with his auld father, + Or with his billie Bewick, he. + + "If I suld kill my billie dear, + God's blessing I shall never win; 60 + But if I strike at my auld father, + I think 'twald be a mortal sin. + + "But if I kill my billie dear, + It is God's will, so let it be; + But I make a vow, ere I gang frae hame, 65 + That I shall be the next man's die."-- + + Then he's put on's back a gude auld jack, + And on his head a cap of steel, + And sword and buckler by his side; + O gin he did not become them weel! 70 + + We'll leave off talking of Christie Grĉme, + And talk of him again belive; + And we will talk of bonny Bewick, + Where he was teaching his scholars five. + + When he had taught them well to fence, 75 + And handle swords without any doubt, + He took his sword under his arm, + And he walk'd his father's close about. + + He look'd atween him and the sun, + And a' to see what there might be, 80 + Till he spied a man in armour bright, + Was riding that way most hastilie. + + "O wha is yon, that came this way, + Sae hastilie that hither came? + I think it be my brother dear, 85 + I think it be young Christie Grĉme. + + "Ye're welcome here, my billie dear, + And thrice ye're welcome unto me!"-- + "But I'm wae to say, I've seen the day, + When I am come to fight wi' thee. 90 + + "My father's gane to Carlisle town, + Wi' your father Bewick there met he: + He says I'm a lad, and I am but bad, + And a baffled man I trow I be. + + "He sent me to schools, and I wadna learn; 95 + He gae me books, and I wadna read; + Sae my father's blessing I'll never earn, + Till he see how my arm can guard my head." + + "O God forbid, my billie dear, + That ever such a thing suld be! 100 + We'll take three men on either side, + And see if we can our fathers agree." + + "O hald thy tongue, now, billie Bewick, + And of thy talking let me be! + But if thou'rt a man, as I'm sure thou art, 105 + Come o'er the dyke, and fight wi' me." + + "But I hae nae harness, billie, on my back,[L107] + As weel I see there is on thine."-- + "But as little harness as is on thy back, + As little, billie, shall be on mine."-- 110 + + Then he's thrown aff his coat o' mail, + His cap of steel away flung he; + He stuck his spear into the ground, + And he tied his horse unto a tree. + + Then Bewick has thrown aff his cloak, 115 + And's psalter-book frae's hand flung he; + He laid his hand upon the dyke, + And ower he lap most manfullie. + + O they hae fought for twae lang hours; + When twae lang hours were come and gane, 120 + The sweat drapp'd fast frae aff them baith, + But a drap of blude could not be seen. + + Till Grĉme gae Bewick an ackward stroke, + Ane ackward stroke strucken sickerlie; + He has hit him under the left breast, 125 + And dead-wounded to the ground fell he. + + "Rise up, rise up, now, billie dear, + Arise and speak three words to me! + Whether thou's gotten thy deadly wound, + Or if God and good leeching may succour thee?" 130 + + "O horse, O horse, now, billie Grĉme, + And get thee far from hence with speed; + And get thee out of this country, + That none may know who has done the deed."-- + + "O I have slain thee, billie Bewick, 135 + If this be true thou tellest to me; + But I made a vow, ere I came frae hame, + That aye the next man I wad be." + + He has pitch'd his sword in a moodie-hill, + And he has leap'd twenty lang feet and three, 140 + And on his ain sword's point he lap, + And dead upon the ground fell he. + + 'Twas then came up Sir Robert Bewick, + And his brave son alive saw he; + "Rise up, rise up, my son," he said, 145 + "For I think ye hae gotten the victorie." + + "O hald your tongue, my father dear, + Of your prideful talking let me be! + Ye might hae drunken your wine in peace, + And let me and my billie be. 150 + + "Gae dig a grave, baith wide and deep, + And a grave to hald baith him and me; + But lay Christie Grĉme on the sunny side, + For I'm sure he wan the victorie." + + "Alack! a wae!" auld Bewick cried, 155 + "Alack! was I not much to blame? + I'm sure I've lost the liveliest lad + That e'er was born unto my name." + + "Alack! a wae!" quo' gude Lord Grĉme, + "I'm sure I hae lost the deeper lack! 160 + I durst hae ridden the Border through, + Had Christie Grĉme been at my back. + + "Had I been led through Liddesdale, + And thirty horsemen guarding me, + And Christie Grĉme been at my back, 165 + Sae soon as he had set me free! + + "I've lost my hopes, I've lost my joy, + I've lost the key but and the lock; + I durst hae ridden the world round, + Had Christie Grĉme been at my back." 170 + +15, Scott, Ye sent; + +16, Ye bought. + +22. Newcastle C. B., and hay. + +41, 42. + + Shall I venture my body in field to fight + With a man that's faith and troth to me? + + N. C. B. + +107-118. Instead of this passage, the Newcastle copy has the +following stanzas:-- + + He flang his cloak from off his shoulders, + His psalm-book from his pouch flang he, + He clapped his hand upon the hedge, + And o'er lap he right wantonly. + + When Graham did see his bully come, + The salt tears stood long in his ee; + "Now needs must I say thou art a man, + That dare venture thy body to fight with me. + + "Nay, I have a harness on my back; + I know that thou hast none on thine; + But as little as thou hast on thy back, + As little shall there be on mine." + + He flang his jacket from off his back, + His cap of steel from his head flang he; + He's taken his spear into his hand, + He's ty'd his horse unto a tree. + + + + +THE LAMENT OF THE BORDER WIDOW. + +_Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 94. + + +This fragment was obtained from recitation in Ettrick Forest, where it +is said to refer to the execution of Cockburne, of Henderland, a +freebooter, hanged by James V. over the gate of his own tower. There is +another version in Johnson's _Museum_, (_Oh Ono Chrio_, p. 90,) which, +Dr. Blacklock informed Burns, was composed on the massacre of Glencoe. +But in fact, these verses seem to be, as Motherwell has remarked, only a +portion (expanded, indeed,) of _The Famous Flower of Serving Men_: see +vol. iv. p. 174. + +There are some verbal differences between Scott's copy and the one in +Chambers's _Scottish Songs_, i. 174. + + My love he built me a bonny bower, + And clad it a' wi' lilye flour, + A brawer bower ye ne'er did see, + Than my true love he built for me. + + There came a man, by middle day, 5 + He spied his sport, and went away; + And brought the King that very night, + Who brake my bower, and slew my knight. + + He slew my knight, to me sae dear; + He slew my knight, and poin'd his gear; 10 + My servants all for life did flee, + And left me in extremitie. + + I sew'd his sheet, making my mane; + I watch'd the corpse, myself alane; + I watch'd his body, night and day; 15 + No living creature came that way. + + I tuk his body on my back, + And whiles I gaed, and whiles I sat; + I digg'd a grave, and laid him in, + And happ'd him with the sod sae green. 20 + + But think na ye my heart was sair, + When I laid the moul' on his yellow hair; + O think na ye my heart was wae, + When I turn'd about, away to gae? + + Nae living man I'll love again, 25 + Since that my lovely knight is slain; + Wi' ae lock of his yellow hair + I'll chain my heart for ever mair. + + + + +YOUNG WATERS. + + +First published on an octavo sheet, by Lady Jean Home, about the middle +of the last century, and from this copy reprinted in Percy's _Reliques_, +(ii. 227.) Buchan has a version (i. 15) twenty-five stanzas longer than +the present, which is given in our Appendix. This ballad has been +supposed to refer to the fate of the Earl of Murray, (see _post_, _The +Bonny Earl of Murray_.) The additional circumstances furnished by +Buchan's copy, however, have led Chambers to suggest that the +unfortunate hero was Walter Stuart, second son of the Duke of Albany. In +support of his conjecture, he adduces "the name, which may be a +corruption of Walter; the mention of the Heading (beheading) Hill of +Stirling, which is known to have been the very scene of Walter Stuart's +execution; the relationship which Young Waters claims with the king; and +the sympathy expressed by the people, in the last verse, for the fate of +the young knight, which exactly tallies with what is told us by the +Scottish historians, regarding the popular feeling expressed in favour +of the numerous nobles and princes of his own blood, whom the king saw +it necessary to sacrifice." We do not consider these coincidences +sufficient to establish the historical character of the piece. + + About Zule, quhen the wind blew cule, + And the round tables began, + A'! there is cum to our kings court + Mony a well-favourd man. + + The queen luikt owre the castle wa', 5 + Beheld baith dale and down, + And then she saw zoung Waters + Cum riding to the town. + + His footmen they did rin before, + His horsemen rade behind; 10 + Ane mantel of the burning gowd + Did keip him frae the wind. + + Gowden graith'd his horse before, + And siller shod behind; + The horse zoung Waters rade upon 15 + Was fleeter than the wind. + + But then spake a wylie lord, + Unto the queen said he: + "O tell me quha's the fairest face + Rides in the company?" 20 + + "I've sene lord, and I've sene laird, + And knights of high degree, + Bot a fairer face than zoung Waters + Mine eyne did never see." + + Out then spaek the jealous king 25 + (And an angry man was he): + "O if he had been twice as fair, + Zou micht have excepted me." + + "Zou're neither laird nor lord," she says, + "Bot the king that wears the crown; 30 + There is not a knight in fair Scotland, + Bot to thee maun bow down." + + For a' that she could do or say, + Appeasd he wade nae bee; + Bot for the words which she had said, 35 + Zoung Waters he maun dee. + + They hae taen zoung Waters, and + Put fetters to his feet; + They hae taen zoung Waters, and + Thrown him in dungeon deep. 40 + + "Aft I have ridden thro' Stirling town, + In the wind bot and the weit; + Bot I neir rade thro' Stirling town + Wi' fetters at my feet. + + "Aft have I ridden thro' Stirling town, 45 + In the wind bot and the rain; + Bot I neir rade thro' Stirling town + Neir to return again." + + They hae taen to the heiding-hill + His zoung son in his craddle; 50 + And they hae taen to the heiding-hill + His horse bot and his saddle. + + They hae taen to the heiding-hill + His lady fair to see; + And for the words the queen had spoke 55 + Zoung Waters he did dee. + + + + +BONNIE GEORGE CAMPBELL. + +Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 44. + + +This, says Motherwell, "is probably a lament for one of the adherents of +the house of Argyle, who fell in the battle of Glenlivat, stricken on +Thursday, the third day of October, 1594 years." It is printed, somewhat +differently, in Smith's _Scottish Minstrel_, v. 42. Finlay gives eight +lines of this ballad in the Preface to his first volume, p. xxxiii. + + Hie upon Hielands, + And low upon Tay, + Bonnie George Campbell + Rade out on a day. + Saddled and bridled 5 + And gallant rade he; + Hame cam his gude horse, + But never cam he! + + Out cam his auld mither + Greeting fu' sair, 10 + And out cam his bonnie bride + Rivin' her hair. + Saddled and bridled + And booted rade he; + Toom hame cam the saddle, 15 + But never cam he! + + "My meadow lies green, + And my corn is unshorn; + My barn is to big, + And my babie's unborn." 20 + Saddled and bridled + And booted rade he; + Toom hame cam the saddle, + But never cam he! + + + + +LAMKIN. + + +The following is believed to be a correct account of the various printed +forms of this extremely popular ballad. In the second edition of Herd's +_Scottish Songs_ (1776) appeared a fragment of eighteen stanzas, called +_Lammikin_, embellished in a puerile style by some modern hand. Jamieson +published the story in a complete and authentic shape in his _Popular +Ballads_, in 1806. Finlay's collection (1808) furnishes us with two more +copies, the first of which (ii. 47) is made up in part of Herd's +fragment, and the second (ii. 57) taken from a MS. "written by an old +lady." Another was given, from recitation, in Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, +(1827,) with the more intelligible title of _Lambert Linkin_. An English +fragment, called _Long Lonkin_, taken down from the recitation of an old +woman, is said to have been inserted by Miss Landon, in the +_Drawing-Room Scrap-Book_, for 1837. This was republished in +Richardson's _Borderer's Table-Book_, 1846, vol. viii. 410, and the +editor of that miscellany, who ought to have learned to be skeptical in +such matters, urges the circumstantial character of local tradition as +strong evidence that the real scene of the cruel history was in +Northumberland. Lastly, we have to note a version resembling +Motherwell's, styled _Bold Rankin_, printed in _A New Book of Old +Ballads_, (p. 73,) and in Whitelaw's _Book of Scottish Ballads_, (p. +246,) and an imperfect ballad (_Long Lankyn_) in _Notes and Queries_, +New Series, ii. 324. + +We have printed Jamieson's, Motherwell's, the longer of Finlay's +versions, and the English fragment: the last two in the Appendix. The +following is from Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, i. 176. "This piece was +transmitted to the Editor by Mrs. Brown." + + "O pay me now, Lord Wearie; + Come, pay me out o' hand." + "I canna pay you, Lamkin, + Unless I sell my land." + + "O gin ye winna pay me, 5 + I here sall mak a vow, + Before that ye come hame again, + Ye sall ha'e cause to rue." + + Lord Wearie got a bonny ship, + To sail the saut sea faem; 10 + Bade his lady weel the castle keep, + Ay till he should come hame. + + But the nourice was a fause limmer + As e'er hung on a tree; + She laid a plot wi' Lamkin, 15 + Whan her lord was o'er the sea. + + She laid a plot wi' Lamkin, + When the servants were awa'; + Loot him in at a little shot window, + And brought him to the ha'. 20 + + "O whare's a' the men o' this house, + That ca' me Lamkin?" + "They're at the barn well thrashing, + 'Twill be lang ere they come in." + + "And whare's the women o' this house, 25 + That ca' me Lamkin?" + "They're at the far well washing; + 'Twill be lang ere they come in." + + "And whare's the bairns o' this house, + That ca' me Lamkin?" 30 + "They're at the school reading; + 'Twill be night or they come hame." + + O whare's the lady o' this house, + That ca's me Lamkin?" + "She's up in her bower sewing, 35 + But we soon can bring her down." + + Then Lamkin's tane a sharp knife, + That hang down by his gaire, + And he has gi'en the bonny babe + A deep wound and a sair. 40 + + Then Lamkin he rocked, + And the fause nourice sang, + Till frae ilkae bore o' the cradle + The red blood out sprang. + + Then out it spak the lady, 45 + As she stood on the stair, + "What ails my bairn, nourice, + That he's greeting sae sair? + + "O still my bairn, nourice; + O still him wi' the pap!" 50 + "He winna still, lady, + For this, nor for that." + + "O still my bairn, nourice; + "O still him wi' the wand!" + "He winna still, lady, 55 + For a' his father's land." + + "O still my bairn, nourice, + O still him wi' the bell!" + "He winna still, lady, + Till ye come down yoursel." 60 + + O the firsten step she steppit, + She steppit on a stane; + But the neisten step she steppit, + She met him, Lamkin. + + "O mercy, mercy, Lamkin! 65 + Ha'e mercy upon me! + Though you've ta'en my young son's life, + Ye may let mysel be." + + "O sall I kill her, nourice? + Or sall I lat her be?" 70 + "O kill her, kill her, Lamkin, + For she ne'er was good to me." + + "O scour the bason, nourice, + And mak it fair and clean, + For to keep this lady's heart's blood, 75 + For she's come o' noble kin." + + "There need nae bason, Lamkin; + Lat it run through the floor; + What better is the heart's blood + O' the rich than o' the poor?" 80 + + But ere three months were at an end, + Lord Wearie came again; + But dowie dowie was his heart + When first he came hame. + + "O wha's blood is this," he says, 85 + "That lies in the châmer?" + "It is your lady's heart's blood; + 'Tis as clear as the lamer." + + "And wha's blood is this," he says, + "That lies in my ha'?" 90 + "It is your young son's heart's blood; + 'Tis the clearest ava." + + O sweetly sang the black-bird + That sat upon the tree; + But sairer grat Lamkin, 95 + When he was condemn'd to die. + + And bonny sang the mavis + Out o' the thorny brake; + But sairer grat the nourice, + When she was tied to the stake. 100 + + + + +LAMBERT LINKIN. + + +"The present copy is given from recitation, and though it could have +received additions, and perhaps improvements, from another copy, +obtained from a similar source, and of equal authenticity, in his +possession, the Editor did not like to use a liberty which is liable to +much abuse. To some, the present set of the ballad may be valuable, as +handing down both name and nickname of the revengeful builder of Prime +Castle; for there can be little doubt that the epithet _Linkin_ Mr. +Lambert acquired from the secrecy and address with which he insinuated +himself into that notable strength. Indeed, all the names of +Lammerlinkin, Lammikin, Lamkin, Lankin, Linkin, Belinkin, can easily be +traced out as abbreviations of Lambert Linkin. In the present set of the +ballad, Lambert Linkin and Belinkin are used indifferently, as the +measure of the verse may require; in the other recited copy, to which +reference has been made, it is Lammerlinkin and Lamkin; and the nobleman +for whom he "built a house" is stated to be "Lord Arran." No allusion, +however, is made here to the name of the owner of Prime Castle. +Antiquaries, peradventure, may find it as difficult to settle the +precise locality of this fortalice, as they have found it to fix the +topography of Troy." Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 291. + +In Finlay's second copy, the murderer's name is Balcanqual, "which," +observes the editor, "is an ancient Scottish surname, and is sometimes +corrupted, for the more agreeable sound, into Beluncan." It is more +likely that Belinkin has suggested Balcanqual, than that Balcanqual has +been corrupted into Lamkin. + + Belinkin was as gude a mason + As e'er pickt a stane; + He built up Prime Castle, + But payment gat nane. + + The lord said to his lady, 5 + When he was going abroad, + "O beware of Belinkin, + For he lyes in the wood." + + The gates they were bolted, + Baith outside and in; 10 + At the sma' peep of a window + Belinkin crap in. + + "Gude morrow, gude morrow," + Said Lambert Linkin. + "Gude morrow to yoursell, sir," 15 + Said the fause nurse to him. + + "O whare is your gude lord?" + Said Lambert Linkin. + "He's awa to New England, + To meet with his king." 20 + + "O where is his auld son?" + Said Lambert Linkin. + "He's awa to buy pearlings, + Gin our lady ly in." + + "Then she'll never wear them," 25 + Said Lambert Linkin. + "And that is nae pity," + Said the fause nurse to him. + + "O where is your lady?" + Said Lambert Linkin. 30 + "She's in her bouir sleepin'," + Said the fause nurse to him. + + "How can we get at her?" + Said Lambert Linkin. + "Stab the babe to the heart 35 + Wi' a silver bo'kin." + + "That wud be a pity," + Said Lambert Linkin. + "Nae pity, nae pity," + Said the fause nurse to him. 40 + + Belinkin he rocked, + And the fause nurse she sang, + Till a' the tores o' the cradle[L43] + Wi' the red blude down ran. + + "O still my babe, nurice, 45 + O still him wi' the knife." + "He'll no be still, lady, + Tho' I lay down my life." + + "O still my babe, nurice, + O still him wi' the kame." 50 + "He'll no be still, lady, + Till his daddy come hame." + + "O still my babe, nurice, + O still him wi' the bell." + "He'll no be still, lady, 55 + Till ye come down yoursell." + + "It's how can I come doun, + This cauld frosty nicht, + Without e'er a coal + Or a clear candle licht?" 60 + + "There's twa smocks in your coffer, + As white as a swan; + Put ane o' them about you, + It will shew you licht doun." + + She took ane o' them about her, 65 + And came tripping doun; + But as soon as she viewed, + Belinkin was in. + + "Gude morrow, gude morrow," + Said Lambert Linkin. 70 + "Gude morrow to yoursell, sir," + Said the lady to him. + + "O save my life, Belinkin, + Till my husband come back, + And I'll gie ye as much red gold 75 + As ye'll haud in your hat." + + "I'll not save your life, lady, + Till your husband come back, + Tho' you wud gie me as much red gold + As I could haud in a sack. 80 + + "Will I kill her?" quo' Belinkin, + "Will I kill her, or let her be?" + "You may kill her," said the fause nurse, + "She was ne'er gude to me; + And ye'll be laird o' the Castle, 85 + And I'll be ladye." + + Then he cut aff her head + Fra her lily breast bane, + And he hung 't up in the kitchen, + It made a' the ha' shine. 90 + + The lord sat in England + A-drinking the wine: + "I wish a' may be weel + Wi' my lady at hame; + For the rings o' my fingers 95 + They're now burst in twain!" + + He saddled his horse, + And he came riding doun; + But as soon as he viewed, + Belinkin was in. 100 + + He hadna weel stepped + Twa steps up the stair, + Till he saw his pretty young son + Lying dead on the floor. + + He hadna weel stepped 105 + Other twa up the stair, + Till he saw his pretty lady + Lying dead in despair. + + He hanged Belinkin + Out over the gate; 110 + And he burnt the fause nurice, + Being under the grate. + +43. _Tores._ The projections or knobs at the corners of +old-fashioned cradles, and the ornamented balls commonly found +surmounting the backs of old chairs. MOTHERWELL. + + + + +THE LAIRD OF WARISTOUN. + + +Jamieson and Kinloch have each published a highly dramatic fragment of +this terrible story. Both of these are here given, and in the Appendix +may be seen Buchan's more extensive, but far less poetical version. With +this last, we have printed Mr. Chambers's account of the events on which +these ballads are founded. + +Jamieson's copy was taken down by Sir Walter Scott, from the recitation +of his mother. _Popular Ballads_, i. 109. + + Down by yon garden green + Sae merrily as she gaes; + She has twa weel-made feet, + And she trips upon her taes. + + She has twa weel-made feet; 5 + Far better is her hand; + She's as jimp in the middle + As ony willow-wand. + + "Gif ye will do my bidding, + At my bidding for to be, 10 + It's I will make you lady + Of a' the lands you see." + + * * * * * + + He spak a word in jest; + Her answer wasna good; + He threw a plate at her face, 15 + Made it a' gush out o' blood. + + She wasna frae her chamber + A step but barely three, + When up and at her richt hand + There stood Man's Enemy. 20 + + "Gif ye will do my bidding, + At my bidding for to be; + I'll learn you a wile + Avenged for to be." + + The Foul Thief knotted the tether; 25 + She lifted his head on hie; + The nourice drew the knot + That gar'd lord Waristoun die. + + Then word is gane to Leith, + Also to Edinburgh town, 30 + That the lady had kill'd the laird, + The laird o' Waristoun. + + * * * * * + + "Tak aff, tak aff my hood, + But lat my petticoat be; + Put my mantle o'er my head; 35 + For the fire I downa see. + + "Now, a' ye gentle maids, + Tak warning now by me, + And never marry ane + But wha pleases your e'e. 40 + + "For he married me for love, + But I married him for fee; + And sae brak out the feud + That gar'd my dearie die." + + + + +LAIRD OF WARIESTOUN. + +Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 53. + + + It was at dinner as they sat, + And when they drank the wine, + How happy were the laird and lady + Of bonnie Wariestoun. + + The lady spak but ae word, 5 + The matter to conclude; + The laird strak her on the mouth, + Till she spat out o' blude. + + She did not know the way + Her mind to satisfy, 10 + Till evil cam into her head + All by the Enemy. + + * * * * * * * + + "At evening when ye sit + And when ye drink the wine, + See that ye fill the glass well up 15 + To the laird o' Wariestoun." + + * * * * * * + + So at table as they sat, + And when they drank the wine, + She made the glass aft gae round + To the laird o' Wariestoun. 20 + + The nurice she knet the knot, + And O she knet it sicker; + The ladie did gie it a twig, + Till it began to wicker. + + But word has gane doun to Leith, 25 + And up to Embro toun, + That the lady she has slain the laird, + The laird o' Wariestoun. + + Word's gane to her father, the great Duniepace, + And an angry man was he; 30 + Cries, "Fy! gar mak a barrel o' pikes, + And row her doun some brae." + + She said, "Wae be to ye, Wariestoun, + I wish ye may sink for ain; + For I hae been your gudwife 35 + These nine years, running ten; + And I never loved ye sae weill + As now when you're lying slain." + + * * * * * + + "But tak aff this gowd brocade, + And let my petticoat be, 40 + And tie a handkerchief round my face, + That the people may not see." + + + + +THE QUEEN'S MARIE. + + +Of this affecting ballad different editions have appeared in Scott's +_Minstrelsy_, Sharpe's _Ballad Book_, p. 18, Kinloch's _Scottish +Ballads_, and Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_. There is also a fragment in +Maidment's _North Countrie Garland_, which has been reprinted in +Buchan's _Gleanings_, p. 164, and a very inferior version, with a +different catastrophe, in Buchan's larger collection, (ii. 190,) called +_Warenston and the Duke of York's Daughter_. Kinloch's copy may be found +with Maidment's fragment, in the Appendix to this volume: Motherwell's +immediately after the present. + +Sir Walter Scott conceives the ballad to have had its foundation in an +event which took place early in the reign of Mary Stuart, described by +Knox as follows: "In the very time of the General Assembly, there comes +to public knowledge a haynous murther, committed in the court; yea, not +far from the Queen's lap; for a French woman, that served in the Queen's +chamber, had played the whore with the Queen's own apothecary. The woman +conceived and bare a childe, whom, with common consent, the father and +mother murthered; yet were the cries of a new-borne childe hearde, +searche was made, the childe and the mother were both apprehended, and +so were the man and the woman condemned to be hanged in the publicke +street of Edinburgh. The punishment was suitable, because the crime was +haynous. But yet was not the court purged of whores and whoredoms, which +was the fountaine of such enormities: for it was well known that shame +hasted marriage betwixt John Sempill, called the Dancer, and Mary +Levingston, sirnamed the Lusty. What bruit the Maries, and the rest of +the dancers of the court had, _the ballads of that age_ doe witnesse, +which we for modestie's sake omit. KNOX'S _History of the Reformation_, +p. 373. + +"Such," Sir Walter goes on to say, "seems to be the subject of the +following ballad, as narrated by the stern apostle of Presbytery. It +will readily strike the reader, that the tale has suffered great +alterations, as handed down by tradition; the French waiting woman being +changed into Mary Hamilton, and the Queen's apothecary into Henry +Darnley. Yet this is less surprising, when we recollect, that one of the +heaviest of the Queen's complaints against her ill-fated husband, was +his infidelity, and that even with her personal attendants." + +Satisfactorily as the circumstances of Knox's story may agree with those +of the ballads, a coincidence no less striking, and extending even to +the name, is presented by an incident which occurred at the court of +Peter the Great. "During the reign of the Czar Peter," observes Mr. C. +K. Sharpe, "one of his Empress's attendants, a Miss Hamilton, was +executed for the murder of a natural child,--not her first crime in that +way, as was suspected; and the Emperor, whose admiration of her beauty +did not preserve her life, stood upon the scaffold till her head was +struck off, which he lifted by the ears and kissed on the lips. I cannot +help thinking that the two stories have been confused in the ballad; +for, if Marie Hamilton was executed in Scotland, it is not likely that +her relations resided beyond seas; and we have no proof that Hamilton +was really the name of the woman who made the slip with the Queen's +apothecary." + +Scott's edition of _Mary Hamilton_, (the first ever published,) was made +up by him, from various copies. See _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, +iii. 294. + + Marie Hamilton's to the kirk gane, + Wi' ribbons in her hair; + The King thought mair o' Marie Hamilton, + Than ony that were there. + + Marie Hamilton's to the kirk gane, 5 + Wi' ribbons on her breast; + The King thought mair o' Marie Hamilton, + Than he listen'd to the priest. + + Marie Hamilton's to the kirk gane, + Wi' gloves upon her hands; 10 + The King thought mair o' Marie Hamilton, + Than the Queen and a' her lands. + + She hadna been about the King's court + A month, but barely one, + Till she was beloved by a' the King's court, 15 + And the King the only man. + + She hadna been about the King's court + A month, but barely three, + Till frae the King's court Marie Hamilton, + Marie Hamilton durstna be. 20 + + The King is to the Abbey gane, + To pu' the Abbey tree, + To scale the babe frae Marie's heart; + But the thing it wadna be. + + O she has row'd it in her apron, 25 + And set it on the sea,-- + "Gae sink ye, or swim ye, bonny babe, + Ye's get nae mair o' me."-- + + Word is to the kitchen gane, + And word is to the ha', 30 + And word is to the noble room, + Amang the ladyes a', + That Marie Hamilton's brought to bed, + And the bonny babe's mist and awa'. + + Scarcely had she lain down again, 35 + And scarcely fa'en asleep, + When up then started our gude Queen, + Just at her bed-feet; + Saying--"Marie Hamilton, where's your babe? + For I am sure I heard it greet."-- 40 + + "O no, O no, my noble Queen! + Think no such thing to be; + 'Twas but a stitch into my side, + And sair it troubles me."-- + + "Get up, get up, Marie Hamilton: 45 + Get up and follow me; + For I am going to Edinburgh town, + A rich wedding for to see."-- + + O slowly, slowly raise she up, + And slowly put she on; 50 + And slowly rode she out the way, + Wi' mony a weary groan. + + The Queen was clad in scarlet, + Her merry maids all in green; + And every town that they cam to, 55 + They took Marie for the Queen. + + "Ride hooly, hooly, gentlemen, + Ride hooly now wi' me! + For never, I am sure, a wearier burd + Rade in your cumpanie."-- 60 + + But little wist Marie Hamilton, + When she rade on the brown, + That she was ga'en to Edinburgh town, + And a' to be put down. + + "Why weep ye so, ye burgess wives, 65 + Why look ye so on me? + O I am going to Edinburgh town, + A rich wedding for to see."-- + + When she gaed up the tolbooth stairs, + The corks frae her heels did flee; 70 + And lang or e'er she cam down again, + She was condemn'd to die. + + When she cam to the Netherbow port,[L73] + She laughed loud laughters three; + But when she cam to the gallows foot, 75 + The tears blinded her ee. + + "Yestreen the Queen had four Maries, + The night she'll hae but three; + There was Marie Seaton, and Marie Beaton, + And Marie Carmichael, and me.[L80] 80 + + "O often have I dress'd my Queen, + And put gold upon her hair; + But now I've gotten for my reward + The gallows to be my share. + + "Often have I dress'd my Queen, 85 + And often made her bed; + But now I've gotten for my reward + The gallows tree to tread. + + "I charge ye all, ye mariners, + When ye sail ower the faem, 90 + Let neither my father nor mother get wit, + But that I'm coming hame. + + "I charge ye all, ye mariners, + That sail upon the sea, + Let neither my father nor mother get wit 95 + This dog's death I'm to die. + + "For if my father and mother got wit, + And my bold brethren three, + O mickle wad be the gude red blude + This day wad be spilt for me! 100 + + "O little did my mother ken, + That day she cradled me, + The lands I was to travel in, + Or the death I was to die!" + +73. The Netherbow port was the gate which divided the city of Edinburgh +from the suburb, called the Canongate. S. + +80. The Queen's Maries were four young ladies of the highest families in +Scotland, who were sent to France in her train, and returned with her to +Scotland. Keith gives us their names, p. 55. "The young Queen, Mary, +embarked at Dunbarton for France, ... and with her went ... and four +young virgins, all of the name of Mary, viz. Livingston, Fleming, +Seatoun, and Beatoun." Neither Mary Livingston, nor Mary Fleming, are +mentioned in the ballad; nor are the Mary Hamilton, and Mary Carmichael, +of the ballad, mentioned by Keith. But if this corps continued to +consist of young virgins, as when originally raised, it could hardly +have subsisted without occasional recruits; especially if we trust our +old bard, and John Knox. + +The Queen's Maries are mentioned in many ballads, and the name seems to +have passed into a general denomination for female attendants.--SCOTT. + + + + +MARY HAMILTON. + +From Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 311. + + +"In this set of the ballad, from its direct allusion to the use of the +Savin-tree, a clue is, perhaps, afforded for tracing how the poor +mediciner mentioned by Knox should be implicated in the crime of Mary +Hamilton. It may also be noted as a feature in this version of the +ballad, which does not occur in any heretofore printed, the unfortunate +heroine's proud and indignant spurning at life after her character had +been tainted by the infamy of a sentence of condemnation. In another +copy of the ballad, also obtained from recitation, this sentiment is, +perhaps, still more forcibly expressed; at any rate, it is more +appropriate as being addressed to the King. The whole concluding verses +of this copy, differing as they somewhat do from the version adopted for +a text, it has been thought worth while to preserve. + + "But bring to me a cup," she says, + "A cup bot and a can, + And I will drink to all my friends, + And they'll drink to me again. + Here's to you, all travellers, + Who travel by land or sea; + Let na wit to my father nor mother + The death that I must die. + Here's to you, all travellers, + That travel on dry land; + Let na wit to my father or mother + But I am coming hame. + O little did my mother think, + First time she cradled me, + What land I was to travel on, + Or what death I would die. + O little did my mother think, + First time she tied my head, + What land I was to tread upon, + Or whare I would win my bread. + Yestreen Queen Mary had four Maries; + This night she'll hae but three; + She had Mary Seaton, and Mary Beaton, + And Mary Carmichael, and me. + Yestreen I wush Queen Mary's feet, + And bore her till her bed; + This day she's given me my reward, + The gallows tree to tread. + Cast aff, cast aff my gown," she said, + "But let my petticoat be; + And tye a napkin on my face, + For that gallows I downa see." + By and cam the King himsell, + Look'd up wi' a pitiful ee: + "Come down, come down, Mary Hamilton; + This day thou wilt dine with me." + "Hold your tongue, my sovereign liege, + And let your folly be; + An ye had had a mind to save my life, + Ye should na hae shamed me here!" + +"The copy of the ballad from which the above extract is given, begins +with this verse: + + "There were three ladies, they lived in a bower, + And O but they were fair; + The youngest o' them is to the King's court, + To learn some unco lair." + +"There is another version in which the heroine is named Mary Myles, or +Myle; but Myle is probably a corruption of the epithet 'mild,' which +occurs in the fragment given in the _North Countrie Garland_." +MOTHERWELL. + + There lived a knight into the North, + And he had daughters three: + The ane of them was a barber's wife, + The other a gay ladie; + + And the youngest o' them to Scotland is gane 5 + The Queen's Mary to be; + And for a' that they could say or do, + Forbidden she wouldna be. + + The prince's bed it was sae saft, + The spices they were sae fine, 10 + That out of it she could not lye + While she was scarce fifteen. + + She's gane to the garden gay + To pu' of the savin tree; + But for a' that she could say or do, 15 + The babie it would not die. + + She's rowed it in her handkerchief, + She threw it in the sea: + Says,--"Sink ye, swim ye, my bonnie babe, + For ye'll get nae mair of me." 20 + + Queen Mary came tripping down the stair, + Wi' the gold strings in her hair: + "O whare's the little babie," she says, + "That I heard greet sae sair?" + + "O hald your tongue, Queen Mary, my dame, 25 + Let all those words go free; + It was mysell wi' a fit o' the sair colic, + I was sick just like to die." + + "O hald your tongue, Mary Hamilton, + Let all those words go free; 30 + O where is the little babie + That I heard weep by thee?" + + "I rowed it in my handkerchief, + And threw it in the sea; + I bade it sink, I bade it swim, 35 + It would get nae mair o' me." + + "O wae be to thee, Mary Hamilton, + And an ill deid may you die; + For if you had saved the babie's life, + It might hae been an honour to thee. 40 + + "Busk ye, busk ye, Mary Hamilton, + O busk ye to be a bride; + For I am going to Edinburgh town + Your gay wedding to bide. + + "You must not put on your robes of black, 45 + Nor yet your robes of brown; + But you must put on your yellow gold stuffs, + To shine thro' Edinburgh town." + + "I will not put on my robes of black, + Nor yet my robes of brown; 50 + But I will put on my yellow gold stuffs, + To shine thro' Edinburgh town." + + As she went up the Parliament Close, + A riding on her horse, + There she saw many a burgess' lady 55 + Sit greeting at the cross. + + "O what means a' this greeting? + I'm sure it's nae for me; + For I'm come this day to Edinburgh town, + Weel wedded for to be." 60 + + When she gade up the Parliament stair, + She gied loud lauchters three; + But ere that she had come down again, + She was condemned to die. + + "O little did my mother think, 65 + The day she prinned my gown, + That I was to come sae far frae hame + To be hanged in Edinburgh town. + + "O what'll my poor father think, + As he comes through the town, 70 + To see the face of his Molly fair + Hanging on the gallows pin? + + "Here's a health to the mariners + That plough the raging main; + Let neither my mother nor father ken 75 + But I'm coming hame again. + + "Here's a health to the sailors + That sail upon the sea; + Let neither my mother nor father ken + That I came here to die. 80 + + "Yestreen the Queen had four Maries, + This night she'll hae but three; + There was Mary Beaton, and Mary Seaton, + And Mary Carmichael and me." + + "O hald your tongue, Mary Hamilton, 85 + Let all those words go free; + This night ere ye be hanged + Ye shall gang hame wi' me." + + "O hald your tongue, Queen Mary, my dame, + Let all those words go free; 90 + Since I have come to Edinburgh town, + It's hanged I shall be; + For it shall ne'er be said that in your court + I was condemned to die." + + + + +BESSIE BELL AND MARY GRAY. + + +From Lyle's _Ancient Ballads and Songs_, p. 160, where it was printed as +collated "from the singing of two aged persons, one of them a native of +Perthshire." There are two versions slightly differing from the +present;--one in Cunningham's _Songs of Scotland_, iii. 60, obtained +from Sir Walter Scott, and another in Mr. Kirkpatrick Sharpe's _Ballad +Book_, p. 62. + +Allan Ramsay wrote a song with the same title, beginning with the first +stanza of the ballad, (_Tea Table Miscellany_, i. 70.) + +The story of the unfortunate heroines is thus given by Chambers: "Bessie +Bell and Mary Gray were the daughters of two country gentlemen in the +neighborhood of Perth; and an intimate friendship subsisted between +them. Bessie Bell, daughter of the Laird of Kinnaird, happening to be on +a visit to Mary Gray, at her father's house of Lynedoch, when the plague +of 1666 broke out, to avoid the infection, the two young ladies built +themselves a bower in a very retired and romantic spot, called the +Burn-braes, about three quarters of a mile westward from Lynedoch House; +where they resided for some time, supplied with food, it is said, by a +young gentleman of Perth, who was in love with them both. The disease +was unfortunately communicated to them by their lover, and proved fatal; +when, according to custom in cases of the plague, they were not buried +in the ordinary parochial place of sepulture, but in a sequestered spot, +called the Dronach Haugh, at the foot of a brae of the same name, upon +the banks of the River Almond." + + O Bessy Bell an' Mary Gray, + They were twa bonnie lassies; + They biggit a house on yon burn-brae, + An' theekit it o'er wi' rashes. + + They theekit it o'er wi' birk and brume, 5 + They theekit it o'er wi' heather, + Till the pest cam frae the neib'rin town + An' streekit them baith thegither. + + They were na' buried in Meffen kirk-yard, + Amang the rest o' their kin; 10 + But they were buried by Dornoch haugh, + On the bent before the sun. + + Sing, Bessy Bell an' Mary Gray, + They were twa bonnie lasses, + Wha' biggit a bower on yon burn-brae, 15 + An' theekit it o'er wi' thrashes. + + + + +THE CHILDREN IN THE WOOD. + + +_The Children in the Wood_ is perhaps the most popular of all English +ballads. Its merit is attested by the favor it has enjoyed with so many +generations, and was vindicated to a cold and artificial age by the +kindly pen of Addison. The editor of the _Reliques_ thought that the +subject was taken from an old play, published in 1601, "of a young child +murthered in a wood by two ruffins, with the consent of his unkle," but +Ritson discovered that the ballad was entered in the Stationers' +Registers in 1595. The plot of the play was undoubtedly derived from the +Italian, and the author of the ballad may have taken a hint from the +same source. + +Percy's edition, (_Reliques_, iii. 218,) which we have adopted, was +printed from two old copies, one of them in black-letter, in the Pepys +collection. The full title is, _The Children in the Wood, or, The +Norfolk Gentleman's Last Will and Testament_. _To the Tune of Rogero_, +&c. Copies slightly varying from Percy's may be seen in _A Collection of +Old Ballads_, (1723,) i. 221; Ritson's _Ancient Songs_, ii. 150; _The +Book of British Ballads_, p. 13; and Moore's _Pictorial Book of Ancient +Ballad Poetry_, p. 263. + + Now ponder well, you parents deare, + These wordes which I shall write; + A doleful story you shall heare, + In time brought forth to light. + A gentleman of good account 5 + In Norfolke dwelt of late, + Who did in honour far surmount + Most men of his estate. + + Sore sicke he was, and like to dye, + No helpe his life could save; 10 + His wife by him as sicke did lye, + And both possest one grave. + No love between these two was lost, + Each was to other kinde; + In love they liv'd, in love they dyed, 15 + And left two babes behinde: + + The one a fine and pretty boy, + Not passing three yeares olde; + The other a girl more young than he, + And fram'd in beautyes molde. 20 + The father left his little son, + As plainlye doth appeare, + When he to perfect age should come, + Three hundred poundes a yeare. + + And to his little daughter Jane 25 + Five hundred poundes in gold, + To be paid downe on marriage-day, + Which might not be controll'd: + But if the children chance to dye, + Ere they to age should come, 30 + Their uncle should possesse their wealth; + For so the wille did run. + + "Now, brother," said the dying man, + "Look to my children deare; + Be good unto my boy and girl, 35 + No friendes else have they here: + To God and you I recommend + My children deare this daye; + But little while be sure we have + Within this world to staye. 40 + + "You must be father and mother both, + And uncle all in one; + God knowes what will become of them, + When I am dead and gone." + With that bespake their mother deare, 45 + "O brother kinde," quoth shee, + "You are the man must bring our babes + To wealth or miserie: + + "And if you keep them carefully, + Then God will you reward; 50 + But if you otherwise should deal, + God will your deedes regard." + With lippes as cold as any stone, + They kist their children small: + "God bless you both, my children deare;" 55 + With that the teares did fall. + + These speeches then their brother spake + To this sicke couple there: + "The keeping of your little ones, + Sweet sister, do not feare. 60 + God never prosper me nor mine, + Nor aught else that I have, + If I do wrong your children deare, + When you are layd in grave." + + The parents being dead and gone, 65 + The children home he takes, + And bringes them straite unto his house, + Where much of them he makes. + He had not kept these pretty babes + A twelvemonth and a daye, 70 + But, for their wealth, he did devise + To make them both awaye. + + He bargain'd with two ruffians strong, + Which were of furious mood, + That they should take these children young, 75 + And slaye them in a wood. + He told his wife an artful tale. + He would the children send + To be brought up in faire London, + With one that was his friend. 80 + + Away then went those pretty babes, + Rejoycing at that tide, + Rejoycing with a merry minde, + They should on cock-horse ride. + They prate and prattle pleasantly, 85 + As they rode on the waye, + To those that should their butchers be, + And work their lives decaye: + + So that the pretty speeche they had, + Made Murder's heart relent: 90 + And they that undertooke the deed, + Full sore did now repent. + Yet one of them more hard of heart, + Did vowe to do his charge, + Because the wretch, that hired him, 95 + Had paid him very large. + + The other won't agree thereto, + So here they fall to strife; + With one another they did fight, + About the childrens life: 100 + And he that was of mildest mood, + Did slaye the other there, + Within an unfrequented wood; + The babes did quake for feare! + + He took the children by the hand, 105 + Teares standing in their eye, + And bad them straitwaye follow him, + And look they did not crye: + And two long miles he ledd them on, + While they for food complaine: 110 + "Staye here," quoth he, "I'll bring you bread, + When I come back againe." + + These pretty babes, with hand in hand, + Went wandering up and downe; + But never more could see the man 115 + Approaching from the towne: + Their prettye lippes with blackberries, + Were all besmear'd and dyed, + And when they sawe the darksome night, + They sat them downe and cryed. 120 + + Thus wandered these poor innocents, + Till deathe did end their grief, + In one anothers armes they died, + As wanting due relief: + No burial this pretty pair[L125] 125 + Of any man receives, + Till Robin-red-breast piously + Did cover them with leaves. + + And now the heavy wrathe of God + Upon their uncle fell; 130 + Yea, fearfull fiends did haunt his house, + His conscience felt an hell; + His barnes were fir'd, his goodes consum'd, + His landes were barren made, + His cattle dyed within the field, 135 + And nothing with him stayd. + + And in the voyage of Portugal[L137] + Two of his sonnes did dye; + And to conclude, himselfe was brought + To want and miserye: 140 + He pawn'd and mortgaged all his land + Ere seven years came about, + And now at length this wicked act + Did by this meanes come out: + + The fellowe, that did take in hand 145 + These children for to kill, + Was for a robbery judg'd to dye, + Such was God's blessed will: + Who did confess the very truth, + As here hath been display'd: 150 + Their uncle having dyed in gaol, + Where he for debt was layd. + + You that executors be made, + And overseers eke + Of children that be fatherless, 155 + And infants mild and meek; + Take you example by this thing, + And yield to each his right, + Lest God with such like miserye + Your wicked minds requite. + +125, these ... babes, PP. + +137. "A. D. 1588. Dr. Percy, not knowing that the text alludes to a +particular event, has altered it to _a_ voyage _to_ Portugal." RITSON. + + + + +HUGH OF LINCOLN. + + +In the year 1255, we are told by Matthew Paris, in his account of the +reign of Henry III., the Jews of Lincoln stole a boy, named Hugh, of the +age of eight years, whom, after torturing for ten days, they crucified +before a large council of their people, in contempt of the death of the +founder of Christianity. The boy was sought by his mother in the house +of a Jew, which he had been seen to enter, and his body was found in a +pit. The occupant of the house being seized, acknowledged the crime, and +avowed, besides, that the like was committed nearly every year by his +nation. Notwithstanding the promise of impunity by which this confession +had been obtained, the wretch who made it was tied to the tail of a +horse and dragged to the gallows, and after a judicial investigation, +eighteen of the richest and most distinguished Jews in Lincoln were +hanged for participation in the murder, while many more were detained as +prisoners in the Tower of London. On the other hand, the body of the +child was buried with the honors of a martyr in Lincoln Cathedral, where +a construction, assumed without reason to be his tomb, is still shown. +The remains of a young person, found near this spot in 1791, were at +once taken for granted to be those of the sainted infant, and drawings +were made of the relics, which may be seen among the works of the artist +Grimm in the British Museum. + +Several stories of the same tenor are reported by the English +chroniclers. It may be doubted whether there is a grain of truth in any +of them, although it would be no wonder if the atrocious injuries +inflicted on the Jews should, in an instance or two, have provoked a +bloody retaliation, even from that tribe whose badge has always been +sufferance. The annual sacrifice of a Christian child, in mockery of the +crucifixion of Jesus, is on a par for credibility with the miracles +which are said to have followed the death of those innocents. + +The exquisite tale which Chaucer has put into the mouth of the Prioress +exhibits nearly the same incidents as the following ballad. The legend +of Hugh of Lincoln was widely famous. Michel has published an +Anglo-Norman ballad, (_Hugo de Lincolnia_,) on the subject, which +appears to be almost contemporary with the event recorded by Matthew +Paris, and is certainly of the times of Henry III. The versions of the +English ballad are quite numerous. We give here those of Percy, Herd, +and Jamieson, and two others in the Appendix. Besides these, fragments +have been printed in Sir Egerton Brydges's _Restituta_, i. 381, +Halliwell's _Ballads and Poems respecting Hugh of Lincoln_, (1849,) and +in _Notes and Queries_, vol. viii. 614, ix. 320, xii. 496. The most +complete of all the versions is to be found in the new edition of the +_Musical Museum_, vol. iv. p. 500; but that copy is evidently made up +from others previously published. See, for a collection of most of the +poetry, and of much curious information on the imputed cruelties of the +Jews, Michel's _Hugues de Lincoln_, and Hume's _Sir Hugh of Lincoln_. +The whole subject is critically examined in the _London Athenĉum_ for +Dec. 15, 1849. + +"The text of the following edition has been given _verbatim_, as the +editor took it down from Mrs. Brown's recitation; and in it two +circumstances are preserved, which are neither to be found in any of the +former editions, nor in any of the chronicles in which the transaction +is recorded; but which are perfectly in the character of those times, +and tend to enhance the miracles to which the discovery is attributed. +The first of these is, that, in order that the whole of this infamous +sacrifice might be of a piece, and every possible outrage shown to +Christianity, the Jews threw the child's body into a well dedicated to +the Virgin Mary; and tradition says, that it was 'through the might of +Our Ladie,' that the dead body was permitted to speak, and to reveal the +horrid story to the disconsolate mother. The other is, the voluntary +ringing of the bells, &c., at his funeral. The sound of consecrated +bells was supposed to have a powerful effect in driving away evil +spirits, appeasing storms, &c., and they were believed to be inspired +with sentiments and perceptions which were often manifested in a very +miraculous manner." JAMIESON'S _Popular Ballads_, i. 139-156. + + Four and twenty bonny boys + Were playing at the ba'; + And by it came him, sweet Sir Hugh, + And he play'd o'er them a'. + + He kick'd the ba' with his right foot, 5 + And catch'd it wi' his knee; + And throuch-and-thro' the Jew's window, + He gar'd the bonny ba' flee. + + He's doen him to the Jew's castell, + And walk'd it round about; 10 + And there he saw the Jew's daughter + At the window looking out. + + "Throw down the ba', ye Jew's daughter, + Throw down the ba' to me!" + "Never a bit," says the Jew's daughter, 15 + "Till up to me come ye." + + "How will I come up? How can I come up? + How can I come to thee? + For as ye did to my auld father, + The same ye'll do to me." 20 + + She's gane till her father's garden, + And pu'd an apple, red and green; + 'Twas a' to wyle him, sweet Sir Hugh, + And to entice him in. + + She's led him in through ae dark door, 25 + And sae has she thro' nine; + She's laid him on a dressing table, + And stickit him like a swine. + + And first came out the thick, thick blood, + And syne came out the thin; 30 + And syne came out the bonny heart's blood; + There was nae mair within. + + She's row'd him in a cake o' lead, + Bade him lie still and sleep; + She's thrown him in Our Lady's draw well, 35 + Was fifty fathom deep. + + When bells were rung, and mass was sung, + And a' the bairns came hame, + When every lady gat hame her son, + The Lady Maisry gat nane. 40 + + She's ta'en her mantle her about, + Her coffer by the hand; + And she's gane out to seek her son, + And wander'd o'er the land. + + She's doen her to the Jew's castell, 45 + Where a' were fast asleep; + "Gin ye be there, my sweet Sir Hugh, + I pray you to me speak." + + She's doen her to the Jew's garden, + Thought he had been gathering fruit; 50 + "Gin ye be there, my sweet Sir Hugh, + I pray you to me speak." + + She near'd Our Lady's deep draw-well, + Was fifty fathom deep; + "Whare'er ye be, my sweet Sir Hugh, 55 + I pray you to me speak." + + "Gae hame, gae hame, my mither dear; + Prepare my winding sheet; + And, at the back o' merry Lincoln, + The morn I will you meet." 60 + + Now Lady Maisry is gane hame; + Made him a winding sheet; + And, at the back o' merry Lincoln, + The dead corpse did her meet. + + And a' the bells o' merry Lincoln, 65 + Without men's hands were rung; + And a' the books o' merry Lincoln, + Were read without man's tongue; + And ne'er was such a burial + Sin Adam's days begun. 70 + + + + +SIR HUGH. + +From Herd's _Scottish Songs_, i. 157. + + + A' the boys of merry Linkim + War playing at the ba', + An up it stands him sweet Sir Hugh, + The flower among them a'. + + He keppit the ba' than wi' his foot, 5 + And catcht it wi' his knee, + And even in at the Jew's window, + He gart the bonny ba' flee. + + "Cast out the ba' to me, fair maid, + Cast out the ba' to me." 10 + "Ah never a bit of it," she says, + "Till ye come up to me. + + "Come up, sweet Hugh, come up, dear Hugh, + Come up and get the ba';" + "I winna come, I mayna come, 15 + Without my bonny boys a'." + + "Come up, sweet Hugh, come up, dear Hugh, + Come up and speak to me;" + "I mayna come, I winna come, + Without my bonny boys three." 20 + + She's taen her to the Jew's garden, + Whar the grass grew lang and green, + She's pu'd an apple red and white, + To wyle the bonny boy in. + + She's wyled him in through ae chamber, 25 + She's wyled him in through twa, + She's wyled him in till her ain chamber, + The flower out owr them a'. + + She's laid him on a dressin board, + Whar she did often dine; 30 + She stack a penknife to his heart, + And dress'd him like a swine. + + She row'd him in a cake of lead, + Bade him ly still and sleep, + She threw him i' the Jew's draw-well, 35 + It was fifty fathom deep. + + Whan bells were rung, and mass was sung, + And a' man bound to bed, + Every lady got home her son, + But sweet Sir Hugh was dead. + + + + +THE JEW'S DAUGHTER. + + +From Percy's _Reliques_, i. 40; printed from a manuscript copy sent from +Scotland. + +Mirryland toune is a corruption of Merry Lincoln, and not, as Percy +conjectured, of Mailand (Milan) town. In Motherwell's copy we have +Maitland town. + + The rain rins doun through Mirry-land toune, + Sae dois it doune the Pa: + Sae dois the lads of Mirry-land toune, + Quhan they play at the ba'. + + Than out and cam the Jewis dochter, 5 + Said, "Will ye cum in and dine?" + "I winnae cum in, I cannae cum in, + Without my play-feres nine." + + Scho powd an apple reid and white, + To intice the zong thing in: 10 + Scho powd an apple white and reid, + And that the sweit bairne did win. + + And scho has taine out a little pen-knife, + And low down by her gair; + Scho has twin'd the zong thing and his life; 15 + A word he nevir spak mair. + + And out and cam the thick thick bluid, + And out and cam the thin; + And out and cam the bonny herts bluid: + Thair was nae life left in. 20 + + Scho laid him on a dressing borde, + And drest him like a swine, + And laughing said, "Gae nou and pley + With zour sweit play-feres nine." + + Scho rowd him in a cake of lead, 25 + Bade him lie stil and sleip; + Scho cast him in a deip draw-well, + Was fifty fadom deip. + + Quhan bells wer rung, and mass was sung, + And every lady went hame, 30 + Then ilka lady had her zong sonne, + Bot Lady Helen had nane. + + Scho rowd hir mantil hir about, + And sair sair gan she weip, + And she ran into the Jewis castèl, 35 + Quhan they wer all asleip. + + "My bonny Sir Hew, my pretty Sir Hew, + I pray thee to me speik:" + "O lady, rinn to the deip draw-well, + Gin ze zour sonne wad seik." 40 + + Lady Helen ran to the deip draw-well, + And knelt upon her kne: + "My bonny Sir Hew, and ze be here, + I pray thee speik to me." + + "The lead is wondrous heavy, mither, 45 + The well is wondrous deip; + A keen pen-knife sticks in my hert, + A word I dounae speik. + + "Gae hame, gae hame, my mither deir, + Fetch me my windling sheet, 50 + And at the back o' Mirry-land toun, + Its thair we twa sall meet." + + + + +SIR PATRICK SPENCE. + +From Percy's _Reliques_, i. 81. + + +The event upon which this ballad is founded, if it has been rightly +ascertained, belongs to a remote period in Scottish history. Margaret, +the daughter of Alexander III., was, in the year 1281, betrothed to +Eric, prince of Norway. The bride was conducted to her husband by a +splendid convoy of knights and nobles, and in the month of August was +crowned queen. In returning from the celebration of the nuptials, many +of the Scottish escort were lost at sea, and among those who perished +was Sir Patrick Spence, we are to suppose. + +It is in conformity with this view of the origin of the ballad, (the +suggestion of Motherwell,) that in Buchan's version the object of the +voyage is said to be to take the king's daughter, now "a chosen queen," +_to_ Norway. In Scott's edition, on the other hand, Sir Patrick is +deputed _to bring home_ the king of Norway's daughter. To explain this +circumstance in the story, Sir Walter is forced to suppose that an +unsuccessful and unrecorded embassy was sent, when the death of +Alexander III. had left the Scottish throne vacant, to bring the only +daughter of Eric and Margaret, styled by historians the Maid of Norway, +to the kingdom of which, after her grandfather's demise, she became the +heir. That such an embassy, attended with so disastrous consequences to +the distinguished persons who would compose it, should be entirely +unnoticed by the chroniclers is, to say the least, exceedingly +improbable. + +The question concerning the historical basis of the ballad would +naturally lose much of its interest, were any importance attached to the +arguments by which its genuineness has been lately assailed. These are +so trivial as hardly to admit of a statement. The claims of the +composition to a high antiquity are first disputed, (_Musical Museum_, +new ed., iv. 457*,) on the ground that such a piece was never heard of +till it was sent to Percy by some of his correspondents in Scotland, +with other ballads of (assumed) questionable authority. But even the +ballad of _Sir Hugh_ is liable to any impeachment that can be extracted +from these circumstances, since it was first made known by Percy, and +was transmitted to him from Scotland, (for aught we know, in suspicious +company,) while its story dates also from the 13th century. Then, "an +ingenious friend" having remarked to Percy that some of the phrases of +_Hardyknute_ seemed to have been borrowed from _Sir Patrick Spence_ and +_other_ old Scottish songs, this observation, combined with the fact +that the localities of Dunfermline and Aberdour are in the neighborhood +of Sir Henry Wardlaw's estate, leads to a conjecture that Lady Wardlaw +may have been the author of _Sir Patrick Spence_, as she is known to +have been of _Hardyknute_. It could never be deemed fair to argue from +those resemblances which give plausibility to a counterfeit to the +spuriousness of the original, but in fact there is _no_ resemblance in +the two pieces. _Hardyknute_ is recognized at once by an ordinary +critic to be a modern production, and is, notwithstanding the praise it +has received, a tame and tiresome one besides. _Sir Patrick Spence_, on +the other hand, if not ancient, has been always accepted as such by the +most skilful judges, and is a solitary instance of a successful +imitation, in manner and spirit, of the best specimens of authentic +minstrelsy.[1] + +It is not denied that this ballad has suffered, like others, by +corruption and interpolations, and it is not, therefore, maintained that +hats and cork-heeld shoon are of the 13th century. + +We have assigned to Percy's copy the first place, because its brevity +and directness give it a peculiar vigor. Scott's edition follows, made +up from two MS. copies, (one of which has been printed in Jamieson's +_Popular Ballads_, i. 157,) collated with several verses recited by a +friend. Buchan's version, obtained from recitation, is in the Appendix. +The variations in recited copies are numerous: some specimens are given +by Motherwell, p. xlv. + +[1] This controversy has been recently re-opened by R. Chambers, _The +Romantic Scottish Ballads, their Epoch and Authorship_, Edin. 1859; and +in reply, _The Romantic Scottish Ballads and the Lady Wardlaw Heresy_, +by Norval Clyne, Aberdeen, 1859. + + The king sits in Dumferling[2] toune, + Drinking the blude-reid wine: + "O quhar will I get guid sailor, + To sail this schip of mine?" + + Up and spak an eldern knicht, 5 + Sat at the kings richt kne: + "Sir Patrick Spence is the best sailor, + That sails upon the se." + + The king has written a braid letter, + And signd it wi' his hand, 10 + And sent it to Sir Patrick Spence, + Was walking on the sand. + + The first line that Sir Patrick red, + A loud lauch lauched he: + The next line that Sir Patrick red, 15 + The teir blinded his ee. + + "O quha is this has don this deid, + This ill deid don to me; + To send me out this time o' the zeir, + To sail upon the se? 20 + + "Mak hast, mak haste, my mirry men all, + Our guid schip sails the morne." + "O say na sae, my master deir, + For I feir a deadlie storme. + + "Late late yestreen I saw the new moone 25 + Wi' the auld moone in hir arme; + And I feir, I feir, my deir master, + That we will com to harme." + + O our Scots nobles wer richt laith + To weet their cork-heild schoone; 30 + Bot lang owre a' the play wer playd, + Thair hats they swam aboone. + + O lang, lang, may their ladies sit + Wi' thair fans into their hand, + Or eir they se Sir Patrick Spence 35 + Cum sailing to the land. + + O lang, lang, may the ladies stand + Wi' thair gold kems in their hair, + Waiting for thair ain deir lords, + For they'll se thame na mair. 40 + + Have owre, have owre to Aberdour,[L41] + It's fiftie fadom deip: + And thair lies guid Sir Patrick Spence, + Wi' the Scots lords at his feit. + +[2] The palace of Dunfermline was the favorite residence of King +Alexander III. + +41-44. "It is true that the name of Sir Patrick Spens is not mentioned +in history; but I am able to state that tradition has preserved it. In +the little island of Papa Stronsay, one of the Orcadian group, lying +over against Norway, there is a large grave or tumulus, which has been +known to the inhabitants, from time immemorial, as 'The grave of Sir +Patrick Spens.' The Scottish ballads were not early current in Orkney, a +Scandinavian country; so it is very unlikely that the poem could have +originated the name. The people know nothing beyond the traditional +appellation of the spot, and they have no legend to tell." Aytoun, +_Ballads of Scotland_, i. 2.--This passage is cited simply as a piece of +_external_ evidence to the antiquity of the legend of Sir Patrick +Spens,--supposing the matter of fact to be well established, and the +alleged tradition to be of long standing. + + + + +SIR PATRICK SPENS. + +_Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, i. 299. + + +In singing, the interjection O is added to the second and fourth lines. + + The king sits in Dunfermline town, + Drinking the blude-red wine: + "O whare will I get a skeely skipper + To sail this new ship of mine?" + + O up and spake an eldern knight, 5 + Sat at the king's right knee: + "Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor + That ever sailed the sea." + + Our king has written a braid letter, + And sealed it with his hand, 10 + And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens, + Was walking on the strand. + + "To Noroway, to Noroway, + To Noroway o'er the faem; + The king's daughter of Noroway, 15 + 'Tis thou maun bring her hame!" + + The first word that Sir Patrick read, + Sae loud loud laughed he; + The neist word that Sir Patrick read, + The tear blindit his e'e. 20 + + "O wha is this has done this deed, + And tauld the king o' me, + To send us out at this time of the year, + To sail upon the sea? + + "Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail, be it sleet, 25 + Our ship must sail the faem; + The king's daughter of Noroway, + 'Tis we must fetch her hame." + + They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn + Wi' a' the speed they may; 30 + They hae landed in Noroway + Upon a Wodensday. + + They hadna been a week, a week, + In Noroway, but twae, + When that the lords o' Noroway 35 + Began aloud to say: + + "Ye Scottishmen spend a' our king's goud, + And a' our queenis fee." + "Ye lie, ye lie, ye liars loud! + Fu' loud I hear ye lie! 40 + + "For I brought as much white monie + As gane my men and me,-- + And I brought a half-fou o' gude red goud + Out o'er the sea wi' me. + + "Make ready, make ready, my merrymen a'! 45 + Our gude ship sails the morn." + "Now, ever alake! my master dear, + I fear a deadly storm! + + "I saw the new moon, late yestreen, + Wi' the auld moon in her arm; 50 + And if we gang to sea, master, + I fear we'll come to harm." + + They hadna sailed a league, a league, + A league, but barely three, + When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud, 55 + And gurly grew the sea. + + The ankers brak, and the topmasts lap, + It was sic a deadly storm; + And the waves came o'er the broken ship, + Till a' her sides were torn. 60 + + "O where will I get a gude sailor, + To take my helm in hand, + Till I get up to the tall topmast, + To see if I can spy land?" + + "O here am I, a sailor gude, 65 + To take the helm in hand, + Till you go up to the tall topmast,-- + But I fear you'll ne'er spy land." + + He hadna gane a step, a step, + A step, but barely ane, 70 + When a bout flew out of our goodly ship, + And the salt sea it came in. + + "Gae fetch a web o' the silken claith, + Another o' the twine, + And wap them into our ship's side, 75 + And letna the sea come in." + + They fetched a web o' the silken claith, + Another o' the twine, + And they wapped them roun' that gude ship's side, + But still the sea came in. 80 + + "O laith laith were our gude Scots lords + To weet their cork-heeled shoon! + But lang or a' the play was played, + They wat their hats aboon. + + And mony was the feather-bed 85 + That flatter'd on the faem; + And mony was the gude lord's son + That never mair cam hame. + + The ladyes wrang their fingers white, + The maidens tore their hair; 90 + A' for the sake of their true loves, + For them they'll see nae mair. + + O lang lang may the ladyes sit, + Wi' their fans into their hand, + Before they see Sir Patrick Spens 95 + Come sailing to the strand! + + And lang lang may the maidens sit, + Wi' their goud kaims in their hair, + A' waiting for their ain dear loves, + For them they'll see nae mair. 100 + + O forty miles off Aberdeen + 'Tis fifty fathoms deep, + And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens + Wi' the Scots lords at his feet. + + + + +BOOK IV. + + + + +KING ESTMERE. + +From _Reliques of English Poetry_, i. 65. + + +"This romantic legend," says Percy, "is given from two copies, one of +them in the Editor's folio MS., but which contained very great +variations." This second copy has been conjectured to be of Percy's own +making, the ballad never having been heard of by any one else, out of +his manuscript. Judging from the internal evidence, the alterations made +in the printed text were not very serious. + +King Easter and King Wester have appeared in the ballad of _Fause +Foodrage_, (vol. iii. p. 40.) In another version of the same, they are +called the Eastmure king and the Westmure king, (Motherwell's +_Minstrelsy_, p. lix.) There is also a tale cited in the _Complaynt of +Scotland_, (i. 98,) of a king of Estmureland that married the daughter +of the king of Westmureland. This is plausibly supposed by Ritson to +have been a romance of Horn, in which case the two countries should mean +England and Ireland. King Esmer is one of King Diderik's champions (in +the Danish ballad, _Kong Diderik og hans Kĉmper_), and the father of +Svend Vonved (in _Svend Vonved_). In the Flemish and German romances of +_The Knight of the Swan_, Essmer, or Esmerés, is one of the seven sons +of Oriant, and in _Le Dit de Flourence de Romme_ (Jubinal, _Nouveau +Recueil de Contes_, etc., i. 88), Esmère is a Roman prince. (Grundtvig, +i. 78, 236.) For the nonce, we are told that King Estmere was an +English prince, and we may, perhaps, infer from the eighth stanza that +King Adland's dominions were on the same island. But no subject of +inquiry can be more idle than the geography of the romances. + + Hearken to me, gentlemen, + Come and you shall heare; + Ile tell you of two of the boldest brethren, + That ever born y-were. + + The tone of them was Adler yonge, 5 + The tother was kyng Estmere; + They were as bolde men in their deedes + As any were, farr and neare. + + As they were drinking ale and wine + Within kyng Estmeres halle, 10 + "When will ye marry a wyfe, brother, + A wyfe to gladd us all?" + + Then bespake him kyng Estmere, + And answered him hartilye: + "I knowe not that ladye in any lande, 15 + That is able to marry with mee." + + "Kyng Adland hath a daughter, brother, + Men call her bright and sheene; + If I were kyng here in your stead, + That ladye shold be queene." 20 + + Sayes, "Reade me, reade me, deare brother, + Throughout merry England, + Where we might find a messenger + Betweene us two to sende." + + Sayes, "You shall ryde yourselfe, brother, 25 + Ile beare you companee; + Many throughe fals messengers are deceived,[L27] + And I feare lest soe shold wee." + + Thus they renisht them to ryde + On twoe good renisht steedes, 30 + And when they came to kyng Adlands halle, + Of red golde shone their weedes. + + And when they came to kyng Adlands halle, + Before the goodlye yate, + Ther they found good kyng Adland, 35 + Rearing himselfe theratt. + + "Nowe Christ thee save, good kyng Adland, + Nowe Christ thee save and see:" + Sayd, "You be welcome, kyng Estmere, + Right hartilye to mee." 40 + + "You have a daughter," sayd Adler yonge, + "Men call her bright and sheene; + My brother wold marrye her to his wiffe, + Of Englande to be queene." + + "Yesterdaye was att my dere daughter 45 + The king his sonne of Spayn; + And then she nicked him of naye; + I feare sheele do youe the same." + + "The kyng of Spayne is a foule paynim, + And 'leeveth on Mahound, 50 + And pitye it were that fayre ladye + Shold marrye a heathen hound." + + "But grant to me," sayes kyng Estmere, + "For my love I you praye, + That I may see your daughter dere 55 + Before I goe hence awaye." + + "Althoughe itt is seven yeare and more + Syth my daughter was in halle, + She shall come downe once for your sake, + To glad my guestès alle." 60 + + Downe then came that mayden fayre, + With ladyes lacede in pall, + And halfe a hondred of bolde knightes, + To bring her from bowre to hall, + And eke as manye gentle squieres, 65 + To waite upon them all. + + The talents of golde were on her head sette, + Hunge lowe downe to her knee; + And everye rynge on her small finger + Shone of the chrystall free. 70 + + Sayes, "Christ you save, my deare madame," + Sayes, "Christ you save and see:" + Sayes, "You be welcome, kyng Estmere, + Right welcome unto mee. + + "And iff you love me, as you saye, 75 + So well and hartilee, + All that ever you are comen about + Soone sped now itt may bee." + + Then bespake her father deare, + "My daughter, I saye naye; 80 + Remember well the kyng of Spayne, + What he sayd yesterdaye. + + "He wold pull downe my halles and castles, + And reave me of my lyfe: + And ever I feare that paynim kyng, 85 + Iff I reave him of his wyfe." + + "Your castles and your towres, father, + Are stronglye built aboute; + And therefore of that foule paynim + Wee neede not stande in doubte. 90 + + "Plyght me your troth nowe, kyng Estmere, + By heaven and your righte hande, + That you will marrye me to your wyfe, + And make me queene of your land." + + Then kyng Estmere he plight his troth 95 + By heaven and his righte hand, + That he wolde marrye her to his wyfe, + And make her queene of his land. + + And he tooke leave of that ladye fayre, + To goe to his owne countree, 100 + To fetche him dukes and lordes and knightes, + That marryed they might bee. + + They had not ridden scant a myle, + A myle forthe of the towne, + But in did come the kynge of Spayne, 105 + With kempès many a one: + + But in did come the kyng of Spayne, + With manye a grimme barone, + Tone day to marrye kyng Adlands daughter, + Tother daye to carrye her home. 110 + + Then shee sent after kyng Estmere, + In all the spede might bee, + That he must either returne and fighte, + Or goe home and lose his ladye. + + One whyle then the page he went, 115 + Another whyle he ranne; + Till he had oretaken king Estmere, + Iwis he never blanne. + + "Tydinges, tydinges, kyng Estmere!" + "What tydinges nowe, my boye?" 120 + "O tydinges I can tell to you, + That will you sore annoye. + + "You had not ridden scant a myle, + A myle out of the towne, + But in did come the kyng of Spayne 125 + With kempès many a one: + + "But in did come the kyng of Spayne + With manye a grimme barone, + Tone day to marrye kyng Adlands daughter, + Tother daye to carrye her home. 130 + + "That ladye fayre she greetes you well, + And ever-more well by mee: + You must either turne againe and fighte, + Or goe home and lose your ladye." + + Sayes, "Reade me, reade me, deare brother, 135 + My reade shall ryse at thee,[L136] + Whiche way we best may turne and fighte, + To save this fayre ladye." + + "Now hearken to me," sayes Adler yonge, + "And your reade must rise at me; 140 + I quicklye will devise a waye + To sette thy ladye free. + + "My mother was a westerne woman, + And learned in gramarye, + And when I learned at the schole, 145 + Something shee taught itt me. + + "There groweth an hearbe within this fielde, + And iff it were but knowne, + His color which is whyte and redd, + It will make blacke and browne. 150 + + "His color which is browne and blacke, + Itt will make redd and whyte; + That sword is not in all Englande, + Upon his coate will byte. + + "And you shal be a harper, brother, 155 + Out of the north countree; + And Ile be your boye, so faine of fighte, + To beare your harpe by your knee. + + "And you shall be the best harper + That ever tooke harpe in hand; 160 + And I will be the best singer + That ever sung in this land. + + "Itt shal be written in our forheads, + All and in grammarye, + That we towe are the boldest men 165 + That are in all Christentye." + + And thus they renisht them to ryde, + On towe good renish steedes; + And whan they came to king Adlands hall, + Of redd gold shone their weedes. 170 + + And whan they came to kyng Adlands hall, + Untill the fayre hall yate, + There they found a proud porter, + Rearing himselfe theratt. + + Sayes, "Christ thee save, thou proud porter," 175 + Sayes, "Christ thee save and see:" + "Nowe you be welcome," sayd the porter, + "Of what land soever ye bee." + + "We been harpers," sayd Adler yonge, + "Come out of the northe countree; 180 + We beene come hither untill this place, + This proud weddinge for to see." + + Sayd, "And your color were white and redd, + As it is blacke and browne, + Ild saye king Estmere and his brother 185 + Were comen untill this towne." + + Then they pulled out a ryng of gold,[L187] + Layd itt on the porters arme: + "And ever we will thee, proud porter, + Thow wilt saye us no harme." 190 + + Sore he looked on kyng Estmere, + And sore he handled the ryng, + Then opened to them the fayre hall yates, + He lett for no kind of thyng. + + Kyng Estmere he light off his steede, 195 + Up att the fayre hall board; + The frothe that came from his brydle bitte + Light on kyng Bremors beard. + + Sayes, "Stable thy steede, thou proud harper, + Go stable him in the stalle; 200 + Itt doth not beseeme a proud harper + To stable him in a kyngs halle." + + "My ladd he is so lither," he sayd, + "He will do nought that's meete; + And aye that I cold but find the man, 205 + Were able him to beate." + + "Thou speakst proud words," sayd the paynim king, + "Thou harper, here to mee; + There is a man within this halle, + That will beate thy lad and thee." 210 + + "O lett that man come downe," he sayd, + "A sight of him wold I see; + And whan hee hath beaten well my ladd, + Then he shall beate of mee." + + Downe then came the kemperye man, 215 + And looked him in the eare; + For all the gold that was under heaven, + He durst not neigh him neare. + + "And how nowe, kempe," sayd the kyng of Spayne, + "And how what aileth thee?" 220 + He sayes, "Itt is written in his forhead, + All and in gramarye, + That for all the gold that is under heaven, + I dare not neigh him nye." + + Kyng Estmere then pulled forth his harpe, 225 + And played thereon so sweete: + Upstarte the ladye from the kynge, + As hee sate at the meate. + + "Now stay thy harpe, thou proud harper, + Now stay thy harpe, I say; 230 + For an thou playest as thou beginnest, + Thou'lt till my bride awaye." + + He strucke upon his harpe agayne, + And playd both fayre and free; + The ladye was so pleasde theratt, 235 + She laught loud laughters three. + + "Nowe sell me thy harpe," sayd the kyng of Spayne, + "Thy harpe and stryngs eche one, + And as many gold nobles thou shalt have, + As there be stryngs thereon." 240 + + "And what wold ye doe with my harpe," he sayd, + Iff I did sell it yee?" + "To playe my wiffe and me a fitt, + When abed together we bee." + + "Now sell me," quoth hee, "thy bryde soe gay, 245 + As shee sitts laced in pall, + And as many gold nobles I will give, + As there be rings in the hall." + + "And what wold ye doe with my bryde soe gay, + Iff I did sell her yee? 250 + More seemelye it is for her fayre bodye + To lye by mee than thee." + + Hee played agayne both loud and shrille, + And Adler he did syng, + "O ladye, this is thy owne true love; 255 + Noe harper, but a kyng. + + "O ladye, this is thy owne true love, + As playnlye thou mayest see; + And Ile rid thee of that foule paynim, + Who partes thy love and thee." 260 + + The ladye looked, the ladye blushte, + And blushte and lookt agayne, + While Adler he hath drawne his brande, + And hath the Sowdan slayne. + + Up then rose the kemperye men, 265 + And loud they gan to crye: + "Ah! traytors, yee have slayne our kyng, + And therefore yee shall dye." + + Kyng Estmere threwe the harpe asyde, + And swith he drew his brand; 270 + And Estmere he, and Adler yonge, + Right stiffe in stour can stand. + + And aye their swordes soe sore can byte, + Through helpe of gramarye, + That soone they have slayne the kempery men, 275 + Or forst them forth to flee. + + Kyng Estmere tooke that fayre ladye, + And marryed her to his wiffe, + And brought her home to merrye England, + With her to leade his life. 280 + +27. MS. Many a man ... is. + +136. MS. ryde, but see v. 140. + +v. 187. + + Then they pulled out a ryng of gold, + Layd itt on the porters arme. + +The rings so often used in ballads to conciliate the porter would seem +to be not personal ornaments, but coins. For an account of Ring Money, +see the paper of Sir William Betham, in the seventeenth volume of the +_Transactions of the Royal Irish Academy_. + + + + +SIR CAULINE. + +From _Reliques of English Poetry_, i. 44. + + +"This old romantic tale," says Percy, "was preserved in the Editor's +folio MS., but in so very defective and mutilated a condition, (not from +any chasm in the MS., but from great omission in the transcript, +probably copied from the faulty recitation of some illiterate minstrel,) +that it was necessary to supply several stanzas in the first part, and +still more in the second, to connect and complete the story." + +Many of the interpolations acknowledged in such general terms might with +some confidence be pointed out. Among them are certainly most, if not +all, of the last twelve stanzas of the Second Part, which include the +catastrophe to the story. It is difficult to believe that this charming +romance had so tragic and so sentimental a conclusion. + +The first part of this ballad is preserved in Scotland, under the title +of _King Malcolm and Sir Colvin_, and is printed in our Appendix from +Buchan's collection. In this, Sir Colvin weds the princess after his +victory over the Elrick knight. + + +THE FIRST PART. + + In Ireland, ferr over the sea, + There dwelleth a bonnye kinge; + And with him a yong and comlye knighte, + Men call him Syr Cauline. + + The kinge had a ladye to his daughter, 5 + In fashyon she hath no peere; + And princely wightes that ladye wooed + To be theyr wedded feere. + + Syr Cauline loveth her best of all, + But nothing durst he saye, 10 + Ne descreeve his counsayl to no man, + But deerlye he lovde this may. + + Till on a daye it so beffell + Great dill to him was dight; + The maydens love removde his mynd, 15 + To care-bed went the knighte. + + One while he spred his armes him fro, + One while he spred them nye: + "And aye! but I winne that ladyes love, + For dole now I mun dye." 20 + + And whan our parish-masse was done, + Our kinge was bowne to dyne: + He sayes, "Where is Syr Cauline, + That is wont to serve the wyne?" + + Then aunswerde him a courteous knighte, 25 + And fast his handes gan wringe: + "Syr Cauline is sicke, and like to dye, + Without a good leechinge." + + "Fetche me downe my daughter deere, + She is a leeche fulle fine; 30 + Goe take him doughe and the baken bread, + And serve him with the wyne soe red: + Lothe I were him to tine." + + Fair Christabelle to his chaumber goes, + Her maydens followyng nye: 35 + "O well," she sayth, "how doth my lord?" + "O sicke, thou fayr ladye." + + "Nowe ryse up wightlye, man, for shame, + Never lye soe cowardlee; + For it is told in my fathers halle 40 + You dye for love of mee." + + "Fayre ladye, it is for your love + That all this dill I drye: + For if you wold comfort me with a kisse, + Then were I brought from bale to blisse, 45 + No lenger wold I lye." + + "Sir knighte, my father is a kinge, + I am his onlye heire; + Alas! and well you knowe, syr knighte, + I never can be youre fere." 50 + + "O ladye, thou art a kinges daughter, + And I am not thy peere; + But let me doe some deedes of armes, + To be your bacheleere." + + "Some deedes of armes if thou wilt doe, 55 + My bacheleere to bee, + (But ever and aye my heart wold rue, + Giff harm shold happe to thee,) + + "Upon Eldridge hill there groweth a thorne, + Upon the mores brodinge; 60 + And dare ye, syr knighte, wake there all nighte, + Untile the fayre morninge? + + "For the Eldridge knighte, so mickle of mighte, + Will examine you beforne; + And never man bare life awaye, 65 + But he did him scath and scorne. + + "That knighte he is a foul paynim, + And large of limb and bone; + And but if heaven may be thy speede, + Thy life it is but gone." 70 + + "Nowe on the Eldridge hilles Ile walke, + For thy sake, fair ladie; + And Ile either bring you a ready token, + Or Ile never more you see." + + The lady has gone to her own chaumbere, 75 + Her maydens following bright; + Syr Cauline lope from care-bed soone, + And to the Eldridge hills is gone, + For to wake there all night. + + Unto midnight, that the moone did rise, 80 + He walked up and downe; + Then a lightsome bugle heard he blowe + Over the bents soe browne; + Quoth hee, "If cryance come till my heart, + I am ffar from any good towne." 85 + + And soone he spyde on the mores so broad + A furyous wight and fell; + A ladye bright his brydle led, + Clad in a fayre kyrtell: + + And soe fast he called on Syr Cauline, 90 + "O man, I rede thee flye, + For but if cryance come till thy heart,[L92] + I weene but thou mun dye." + + He sayth, "No cryance comes till my heart,[L94] + Nor, in faith, I wyll not flee; 95 + For, cause thou minged not Christ before, + The less me dreadeth thee." + + The Eldridge knighte, he pricked his steed; + Syr Cauline bold abode: + Then either shooke his trustye speare, 100 + And the timber these two children bare + Soe soone in sunder slode. + + Then tooke they out theyr two good swordes, + And layden on full faste, + Till helme and hawberke, mail and sheelde, 105 + They all were well-nye brast. + + The Eldridge knight was mickle of might, + And stiffe in stower did stande; + But Syr Cauline with an aukeward stroke + He smote off his right-hand; 110 + That soone he, with paine and lacke of bloud, + Fell downe on that lay-land. + + Then up Syr Cauline lift his brande + All over his head so hye: + "And here I sweare by the holy roode, 115 + Nowe, caytiffe, thou shalt dye." + + Then up and came that ladye brighte, + Faste ringing of her hande: + "For the maydens love, that most you love, + Withhold that deadlye brande: 120 + + "For the maydens love that most you love, + Now smyte no more I praye; + And aye whatever thou wilt, my lord, + He shall thy hests obaye." + + "Now sweare to mee, thou Eldridge knighte, 125 + And here on this lay-land, + That thou wilt believe on Christ his laye, + And therto plight thy hand: + + "And that thou never on Eldridge [hill] come + To sporte, gamon, or playe; 130 + And that thou here give up thy armes + Until thy dying daye." + + The Eldridge knighte gave up his armes, + With many a sorrowfulle sighe; + And sware to obey Syr Caulines hest, 135 + Till the tyme that he shold dye. + + And he then up, and the Eldridge knighte + Sett him in his saddle anone; + And the Eldridge knighte and his ladye, + To theyr castle are they gone. 140 + + Then he tooke up the bloudy hand, + That was so large of bone, + And on it he founde five ringes of gold, + Of knightes that had be slone. + + Then he tooke up the Eldridge sworde, 145 + As hard as any flint; + And he tooke off those ringes five, + As bright as fyre and brent. + + Home then pricked Syr Cauline, + As light as leafe on tree; 150 + I-wys he neither stint ne blanne, + Till he his ladye see. + + Then downe he knelt upon his knee, + Before that lady gay: + "O ladye, I have bin on the Eldridge hills; 155 + These tokens I bring away." + + "Now welcome, welcome, Syr Cauline, + Thrice welcome unto mee, + For now I perceive thou art a true knighte, + Of valour bolde and free." 160 + + "O ladye, I am thy own true knighte, + Thy hests for to obaye; + And mought I hope to winne thy love!"-- + No more his tonge colde say. + + The ladye blushed scarlette redde, 165 + And fette a gentill sighe: + "Alas! syr knight, how may this bee, + For my degree's soe highe? + + "But sith thou hast hight, thou comely youth, + To be my batchilere, 170 + Ile promise, if thee I may not wedde, + I will have none other fere." + + Then shee held forthe her liley-white hand + Towards that knighte so free; + He gave to it one gentill kisse, 175 + His heart was brought from bale to blisse, + The teares sterte from his ee. + + "But keep my counsayl, Syr Cauline, + Ne let no man it knowe; + For, and ever my father sholde it ken, 180 + I wot he wolde us sloe." + + From that daye forthe, that ladye fayre + Lovde Syr Cauline the knighte; + From that daye forthe, he only joyde + Whan shee was in his sight. 185 + + Yea, and oftentimes they mette + Within a fayre arboure, + Where they, in love and sweet daliaunce, + Past manye a pleasaunt houre. + +92, MS. For if. + +94, No inserted. + + +THE SECOND PART. + + Everye white will have its blacke, + And everye sweete its sowre: + This founde the Ladye Christabelle + In an untimely howre. + + For so it befelle, as Syr Cauline 5 + Was with that ladye faire, + The kinge, her father, walked forthe + To take the evenyng aire: + + And into the arboure as he went + To rest his wearye feet, 10 + He found his daughter and Syr Cauline + There sette in daliaunce sweet. + + The kinge hee sterted forthe, i-wys, + And an angrye man was hee: + "Nowe, traytoure, thou shalt hange or drawe 15 + And rewe shall thy ladie." + + Then forthe Syr Cauline he was ledde, + And throwne in dungeon deepe: + And the ladye into a towre so hye, + There left to wayle and weepe. 20 + + The queene she was Syr Caulines friend, + And to the kinge sayd shee: + "I praye you save Syr Caulines life, + And let him banisht bee." + + "Now, dame, that traitor shall be sent 25 + Across the salt sea fome: + But here I will make thee a band, + If ever he come within this land, + A foule deathe is his doome." + + All woe-begone was that gentil knight 30 + To parte from his ladye; + And many a time he sighed sore, + And cast a wistfulle eye: + "Faire Christabelle, from thee to parte, + Farre lever had I dye." 35 + + Fair Christabelle, that ladye bright, + Was had forthe of the towre; + But ever shee droopeth in her minde, + As, nipt by an ungentle winde, + Doth some faire lillye flowre. 40 + + And ever shee doth lament and weepe, + To tint her lover soe: + "Syr Cauline, thou little think'st on mee, + But I will still be true." + + Manye a kinge, and manye a duke, 45 + And lorde of high degree, + Did sue to that fayre ladye of love; + But never shee wolde them nee. + + When manye a daye was past and gone, + Ne comforte she colde finde, 50 + The kynge proclaimed a tourneament, + To cheere his daughters mind. + + And there came lords, and there came knights, + Fro manye a farre countrye, + To break a spere for theyr ladyes love, 55 + Before that faire ladye. + + And many a ladye there was sette, + In purple and in palle; + But faire Christabelle, soe woe-begone, + Was the fayrest of them all. 60 + + Then manye a knighte was mickle of might, + Before his ladye gaye; + But a stranger wight, whom no man knewe, + He wan the prize eche daye. + + His acton it was all of blacke, 65 + His hewberke and his sheelde; + Ne noe man wist whence he did come, + Ne noe man knewe where he did gone, + When they came out the feelde.[L69] + + And now three days were prestlye past 70 + In feates of chivalrye, + When lo, upon the fourth morninge, + A sorrowfulle sight they see: + + A hugye giaunt stiffe and starke, + All foule of limbe and lere, 75 + Two goggling eyen like fire farden, + A mouthe from eare to eare. + + Before him came a dwarffe full lowe, + That waited on his knee; + And at his backe five heads he bare, 80 + All wan and pale of blee. + + "Sir," quoth the dwarffe, and louted lowe, + "Behold that hend Soldain! + Behold these heads I beare with me! + They are kings which he hath slain. 85 + + "The Eldridge knight is his own cousine, + Whom a knight of thine hath shent; + And hee is come to avenge his wrong: + And to thee, all thy knightes among, + Defiance here hath sent. 90 + + "But yette he will appease his wrath, + Thy daughters love to winne; + And, but thou yeelde him that fayre mayd, + Thy halls and towers must brenne. + + "Thy head, syr king, must goe with mee, 95 + Or else thy daughter deere: + Or else within these lists soe broad, + Thou must finde him a peere." + + The king he turned him round aboute, + And in his heart was woe: 100 + "Is there never a knighte of my round table + This matter will undergoe? + + "Is there never a knighte amongst yee all + Will fight for my daughter and mee? + Whoever will fight yon grimme Soldan, 105 + Right fair his meede shall bee. + + "For hee shall have my broad lay-lands, + And of my crowne be heyre; + And he shall winne fayre Christabelle + To be his wedded fere." 110 + + But every knighte of his round table + Did stand both still and pale; + For, whenever they lookt on the grim Soldan, + It made their hearts to quail. + + All woe-begone was that fayre ladye, 115 + When she sawe no helpe was nye: + She cast her thought on her owne true-love, + And the teares gusht from her eye. + + Up then sterte the stranger knighte, + Sayd, "Ladye, be not affrayd; 120 + Ile fight for thee with this grimme Soldan, + Thoughe he be unmacklye made. + + "And if thou wilt lend me the Eldridge sworde, + That lyeth within thy bowre, + I truste in Christe for to slay this fiende, 125 + Thoughe he be stiff in stowre." + + "Goe fetch him downe the Eldridge sworde," + The kinge he cryde, "with speede: + Nowe, heaven assist thee, courteous knighte; + My daughter is thy meede." 130 + + The gyaunt he stepped into the lists, + And sayd, "Awaye, awaye! + I sweare, as I am the hend Soldan, + Thou lettest me here all daye." + + Then forthe the stranger knight he came, 135 + In his blacke armoure dight: + The ladye sighed a gentle sighe, + "That this were my true knighte!" + + And nowe the gyaunt and knight be mett + Within the lists soe broad; 140 + And now, with swordes soe sharpe of steele, + They gan to lay on load. + + The Soldan strucke the knighte a stroke + That made him reele asyde: + Then woe-begone was that fayre ladye, 145 + And thrice she deeply sighde. + + The Soldan strucke a second stroke, + And made the bloude to flowe: + All pale and wan was that ladye fayre, + And thrice she wept for woe. 150 + + The Soldan strucke a third fell stroke, + Which brought the knighte on his knee: + Sad sorrow pierced that ladyes heart, + And she shriekt loud shriekings three. + + The knighte he leapt upon his feete, 155 + All recklesse of the pain: + Quoth hee, "But heaven be now my speede, + Or else I shall be slaine." + + He grasped his sworde with mayne and mighte, + And spying a secrette part, 160 + He drave it into the Soldans syde, + And pierced him to the heart. + + Then all the people gave a shoute, + Whan they sawe the Soldan falle: + The ladye wept, and thanked Christ 165 + That had reskewed her from thrall. + + And nowe the kinge, with all his barons, + Rose uppe from offe his seate, + And downe he stepped into the listes + That curteous knighte to greete. 170 + + But he, for payne and lacke of bloude, + Was fallen into a swounde, + And there, all walteringe in his gore, + Lay lifelesse on the grounde. + + "Come downe, come downe, my daughter deare, 175 + Thou art a leeche of skille; + Farre lever had I lose halfe my landes + Than this good knighte sholde spille." + + Downe then steppeth that fayre ladye, + To helpe him if she maye: 180 + But when she did his beavere raise, + "It is my life, my lord!" she sayes, + And shriekte and swound awaye. + + Sir Cauline juste lifte up his eyes, + When he heard his ladye crye: 185 + "O ladye, I am thine owne true love; + For thee I wisht to dye." + + Then giving her one partinge looke, + He closed his eyes in death, + Ere Christabelle, that ladye milde, 190 + Begane to drawe her breathe. + + But when she found her comelye knighte + Indeed was dead and gone, + She layde her pale, cold cheeke to his, + And thus she made her moane: 195 + + "O staye, my deare and onlye lord, + For mee, thy faithfulle feere; + 'Tis meet that I shold followe thee, + Who hast bought my love so deare." + + Then fayntinge in a deadlye swoune, 200 + And with a deep-fette sighe + That burst her gentle heart in twayne, + Fayre Christabelle did dye. + +69. "Syr Cauline here acts up to the genuine spirit of perfect chivalry. +In old romances no incident is of more frequent occurrence than this, of +knights already distinguished for feats of arms laying aside their +wonted cognizances, and, under the semblance of stranger knights, +manfully performing right worshipful and valiant deeds. How often is the +renowned Arthur, in such exhibitions, obliged to exclaim, "O Jhesu, what +knight is that arrayed all in grene (or as the case may be)? he justeth +myghtily!" The Emperor of Almaine, in like manner, after the timely +succor afforded him by Syr Gowghter, is anxious to learn the name of his +modest but unknown deliverer." [So in the romance of _Roswall and +Lillian_, &c.]--MOTHERWELL. + + + + +FAIR ANNIE. + +_Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 252. + + +The story of _Fair Annie_ is widely disseminated. The substance of it is +found in the beautiful romance of Marie de France, the _Lai le Frein_, +of which an ancient English translation is printed in Weber's _Metrical +Romances_, i. 357. The Swedish and Danish ballads go under the same name +of _Fair Anna_, and may be seen in Arwidsson's _Svenska Fornsċnger_, i. +291; Geijer's _Svenska Folk-Visor_, i. 24; and Nyerup's _Danske Viser_, +iv. 59. Jamieson has rendered the Danish ballad very skilfully, in the +Scottish dialect, from Syv's edition of the _Kĉmpe Viser_. In Dutch, the +characters are Maid Adelhaid and King Alewijn (Hoffmann's _Holländische +Volkslieder_, 164.) The story as we have found it in German is +considerably changed. See _Die wiedergefundene Königstochter_, in _Des +Knaben Wunderhorn_, ii. 274, and _Südeli_, Uhland's _Volkslieder_, i. +273. + +The Scottish versions of _Fair Annie_ are quite numerous. A fragment of +eight stanzas was published in Herd's collection, (_Wha will bake my +bridal bread_, ed. 1776, i. 167.) Sir Walter Scott gave a complete +copy, from recitation in the _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_. Two +other copies, also from oral tradition, were inserted by Jamieson in the +Appendix to his _Popular Ballads_, (_Lady Jane_, ii. 371, _Burd Helen_, +ii. 376,) and from these he constructed the edition of _Lady Jane_, +printed at p. 73 of the same volume. Motherwell (_Minstrelsy_) affords +still another variety, and Chambers has compiled a ballad from all these +sources and a manuscript furnished by Mr. Kinloch, (_Scottish Ballads_, +p. 186.) + +In this collection we have adopted the versions of Scott and Motherwell, +giving Jamieson's translation of _Skj[oe]n Anna_ in our Appendix. + + "It's narrow, narrow, make your bed, + And learn to lie your lane; + For I'm gaun o'er the sea, Fair Annie, + A braw bride to bring hame. + Wi' her I will get gowd and gear; 5 + Wi' you I ne'er got nane. + + "But wha will bake my bridal bread, + Or brew my bridal ale? + And wha will welcome my brisk bride, + That I bring o'er the dale?"-- 10 + + "It's I will bake your bridal bread, + And brew your bridal ale; + And I will welcome your brisk bride, + That you bring o'er the dale."-- + + "But she that welcomes my brisk bride 15 + Maun gang like maiden fair; + She maun lace on her robe sae jimp, + And braid her yellow hair."-- + + "But how can I gang maiden-like, + When maiden I am nane? 20 + Have I not born seven sons to thee, + And am with child again?"-- + + She's ta'en her young son in her arms, + Another in her hand; + And she's up to the highest tower, 25 + To see him come to land. + + "Come up, come up, my eldest son, + And look o'er yon sea-strand, + And see your father's new-come bride, + Before she come to land."-- 30 + + "Come down, come down, my mother dear, + Come frae the castle wa'! + I fear, if langer ye stand there, + Ye'll let yoursell down fa'."-- + + And she gaed down, and farther down, 35 + Her love's ship for to see; + And the topmast and the mainmast + Shone like the silver free. + + And she's gane down, and farther down, + The bride's ship to behold; 40 + And the topmast and the mainmast + They shone just like the gold. + + She's ta'en her seven sons in her hand; + I wot she didna fail! + She met Lord Thomas and his bride, 45 + As they came o'er the dale. + + "You're welcome to your house, Lord Thomas; + You're welcome to your land; + You're welcome, with your fair ladye, + That you lead by the hand. 50 + + "You're welcome to your ha's, ladye, + Your welcome to your bowers; + You're welcome to your hame, ladye, + For a' that's here is yours."-- + + "I thank thee, Annie; I thank thee, Annie; 55 + Sae dearly as I thank thee; + You're the likest to my sister Annie, + That ever I did see. + + "There came a knight out o'er the sea, + And steal'd my sister away; 60 + The shame scoup in his company, + And land where'er he gae!"-- + + She hang ae napkin at the door, + Another in the ha'; + And a' to wipe the trickling tears, 65 + Sae fast as they did fa'. + + And aye she served the lang tables + With white bread and with wine; + And aye she drank the wan water, + To had her colour fine. 70 + + And aye she served the lang tables, + With white bread and with brown; + And ay she turn'd her round about, + Sae fast the tears fell down. + + And he's ta'en down the silk napkin, 75 + Hung on a silver pin; + And aye he wipes the tear trickling + Adown her cheek and chin. + + And aye he turn'd him round about, + And smiled amang his men, 80 + Says--"Like ye best the old ladye, + Or her that's new come hame?"-- + + When bells were rung, and mass was sung, + And a' men bound to bed, + Lord Thomas and his new-come bride, 85 + To their chamber they were gaed. + + Annie made her bed a little forbye, + To hear what they might say; + "And ever alas!" fair Annie cried, + "That I should see this day! 90 + + "Gin my seven sons were seven young rats, + Running on the castle wa', + And I were a grey cat mysell, + I soon would worry them a'. + + "Gin my seven sons were seven young hares, 95 + Running o'er yon lilly lee, + And I were a grew hound mysell, + Soon worried they a' should be."-- + + And wae and sad fair Annie sat, + And drearie was her sang; 100 + And ever, as she sobb'd and grat, + "Wae to the man that did the wrang!"-- + + "My gown is on," said the new-come bride, + "My shoes are on my feet, + And I will to fair Annie's chamber, 105 + And see what gars her greet.-- + + "What ails ye, what ails ye, Fair Annie, + That ye make sic a moan? + Has your wine barrels cast the girds, + Or is your white bread gone? 110 + + "O wha was't was your father, Annie, + Or wha was't was your mother? + And had you ony sister, Annie, + Or had you ony brother?"-- + + "The Earl of Wemyss was my father, 115 + The Countess of Wemyss my mother; + And a' the folk about the house, + To me were sister and brother."-- + + "If the Earl of Wemyss was your father, + I wot sae was he mine; 120 + And it shall not be for lack o' gowd, + That ye your love sall tyne. + + "For I have seven ships o' mine ain, + A' loaded to the brim; + And I will gie them a' to thee, 125 + Wi' four to thine eldest son. + But thanks to a' the powers in heaven + That I gae maiden hame!" + + + + +FAIR ANNIE. + +Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 327. Obtained from recitation. + + + "Learn to mak your bed, Annie, + And learn to lie your lane; + For I maun owre the salt seas gang, + A brisk bride to bring hame. + + "Bind up, bind up your yellow hair, 5 + And tye it in your neck; + And see you look as maiden-like + As the day that we first met." + + "O how can I look maiden-like, + When maiden I'll ne'er be; 10 + When seven brave sons I've born to thee, + And the eighth is in my bodie? + + "The eldest of your sons, my lord, + Wi' red gold shines his weed; + The second of your sons, my lord, 15 + Rides on a milk-white steed. + + "And the third of your sons, my lord, + He draws your beer and wine; + And the fourth of your sons, my lord, + Can serve you when you dine. 20 + + "And the fift of your sons, my lord, + He can both read and write; + And the sixth of your sons, my lord, + Can do it most perfyte. + + "And the sevent of your sons, my lord, 25 + Sits on the nurse's knee: + And how can I look maiden-like, + When a maid I'll never be? + + "But wha will bake your wedding bread, + And brew your bridal ale? 30 + Or wha will welcome your brisk bride + That you bring owre the dale?" + + "I'll put cooks in my kitchen, + And stewards in my hall, + And I'll have bakers for my bread, 35 + And brewers for my ale; + But you're to welcome my brisk bride + That I bring owre the dale." + + He set his feet into his ship, + And his cock-boat on the main; 40 + He swore it would be year and day + Or he returned again. + + When year and day was past and gane, + Fair Annie she thocht lang; + And she is up to her bower head, 45 + To behold both sea and land. + + "Come up, come up, my eldest son, + And see now what you see; + O yonder comes your father dear, + And your stepmother to be." 50 + + "Cast off your gown of black, mother, + Put on your gown of brown, + And I'll put off my mourning weeds, + And we'll welcome him home." + + She's taken wine into her hand, 55 + And she has taken bread, + And she is down to the water side + To welcome them indeed. + + "You're welcome, my lord, you're welcome, my lord, + You're welcome home to me; 60 + So is every lord and gentleman + That is in your companie. + + "You're welcome, my lady, you're welcome, my lady, + You're welcome home to me; + So is every lady and gentleman 65 + That's in your companie." + + "I thank you, my girl, I thank you, my girl, + I thank you heartily; + If I live seven years about this house, + Rewarded you shall be." 70 + + She serv'd them up, she serv'd them down, + With the wheat bread and the wine; + But aye she drank the cauld water, + To keep her colour fine. + + She serv'd them up, she serv'd them down, + With the wheat bread and the beer; 75 + But aye she drank the cauld water, + To keep her colour clear. + + When bells were rung and mass was sung, + And all were boune for rest, 80 + Fair Annie laid her sons in bed, + And a sorrowfu' woman she was. + + "Will I go to the salt, salt seas, + And see the fishes swim? + Or will I go to the gay green wood, 85 + And hear the small birds sing?" + + Out and spoke an aged man, + That stood behind the door,-- + "Ye will not go to the salt, salt seas, + To see the fishes swim; 90 + Nor will ye go to the gay green wood, + To hear the small birds sing: + + "But ye'll take a harp into your hand, + Go to their chamber door, + And aye ye'll harp and aye ye'll murn, 95 + With the salt tears falling o'er." + + She's ta'en a harp into her hand, + Went to their chamber door, + And aye she harped and aye she murn'd, + With the salt tears falling o'er. 100 + + Out and spak the brisk young bride, + In bride-bed where she lay,-- + "I think I hear my sister Annie, + And I wish weel it may; + For a Scotish lord staw her awa, 105 + And an ill death may he die." + + "Wha was your father, my girl," she says, + "Or wha was your mother? + Or had you ever a sister dear, + Or had you ever a brother?" 110 + + "King Henry was my father dear, + Queen Esther was my mother, + Prince Henry was my brother dear, + And Fanny Flower my sister." + + "If King Henry was your father dear, 115 + And Queen Esther was your mother, + If Prince Henry was your brother dear, + Then surely I'm your sister. + + "Come to your bed, my sister dear, + It ne'er was wrang'd for me, 120 + Bot an ae kiss of his merry mouth, + As we cam owre the sea." + + "Awa, awa, ye forenoon bride, + Awa, awa frae me; + I wudna hear my Annie greet, 125 + For a' the gold I got wi' thee." + + "There were five ships of gay red gold + Cam owre the seas with me; + It's twa o' them will tak me hame, + And three I'll leave wi' thee. 130 + + "Seven ships o' white monie + Came owre the seas wi' me; + Five o' them I'll leave wi' thee, + And twa will take me hame; + And my mother will make my portion up, 135 + When I return again." + + + + +CHILD WATERS. + + +First published by Percy from his folio MS., _Reliques_, iii. 94. +Several traditionary versions have since been printed, of which we give +_Burd Ellen_ from Jamieson's, and in the Appendix, _Lady Margaret_ from +Kinloch's collection. Jamieson also furnishes a fragment, and Buchan, +(_Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 30,) a complete copy of another +version of _Burd Ellen_, and Chambers (_Scottish Ballads_, 193,) makes +up an edition from all the copies, which we mention here because he has +taken some lines from a manuscript supplied by Mr. Kinloch. + + Childe Waters in his stable stoode + And stroakt his milke-white steede; + To him a fayre yonge ladye came + As ever ware womans weede. + + Sayes, "Christ you save, good Childe Waters," 5 + Sayes, "Christ you save and see; + My girdle of gold that was too longe, + Is now too short for mee. + + "And all is with one childe of yours + I feele sturre at my side; 10 + My gowne of greene it is too straighte; + Before, it was too wide." + + "If the child be mine, faire Ellen," he sayd,[L13] + "Be mine, as you tell mee, + Then take you Cheshire and Lancashire both, 15 + Take them your owne to bee. + + "If the childe be mine, faire Ellen," he sayd, + "Be mine, as you doe sweare, + Then take you Cheshire and Lancashire both, + And make that child your heyre." 20 + + Shee sayes, "I had rather have one kisse, + Childe Waters, of thy mouth, + Than I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire both, + That lye by north and southe. + + "And I had rather have one twinkling, 25 + Childe Waters, of thine ee, + Than I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire both, + To take them mine owne to bee." + + "To morrowe, Ellen, I must forth ryde + Farr into the north countree; 30 + The fayrest lady that I can finde, + Ellen, must goe with mee." + + "Thoughe I am not that ladye fayre,[L33] + Yet let me go with thee: + And ever I pray you, Childe Waters, 35 + Your foot-page let me bee." + + "If you will my foot-page bee, Ellen, + As you doe tell to mee, + Then you must cut your gowne of greene + An inch above your knee: 40 + + "Soe must you doe your yellowe lockes, + An inch above your ee; + You must tell no man what is my name; + My foot-page then you shall bee." + + Shee, all the long daye Childe Waters rode, 45 + Ran barefoote by his syde, + Yet was he never soe courteous a knighte, + To say, "Ellen, will you ryde?" + + Shee, all the long daye Childe Waters rode, + Ran barefoote thorow the broome, 50 + Yett was hee never soe courteous a knighte, + To say, "put on your shoone." + + "Ride softlye," shee sayd, "O Childe Waters: + Why doe you ryde so fast? + The childe, which is no mans but thine, 55 + My bodye itt will brast." + + Hee sayth, "seest thou yond water, Ellen, + That flows from banke to brimme?" + "I trust to God, O Childe Waters, + You never will see me swimme." 60 + + But when shee came to the water side, + She sayled to the chinne: + "Now the Lord of heaven be my speede, + For I must learne to swimme." + + The salt waters bare up her clothes, 65 + Our Ladye bare up her chinne; + Childe Waters was a woe man, good Lord, + To see faire Ellen swimme! + + And when shee over the water was, + Shee then came to his knee: 70 + Hee sayd, "Come hither, thou fayre Ellen, + Loe yonder what I see. + + "Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen? + Of redd gold shines the yate: + Of twenty foure faire ladyes there, 75 + The fairest is my mate. + + "Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen? + Of redd golde shines the towre: + There are twenty four fayre ladyes there, + The fayrest is my paramoure." 80 + + "I see the hall now, Childe Waters, + Of redd golde shines the yate: + God give you good now of yourselfe, + And of your worldlye mate. + + "I see the hall now, Childe Waters, 85 + Of redd golde shines the towre: + God give you good now of yourselfe, + And of your paramoure." + + There twenty four fayre ladyes were + A playing at the ball, 90 + And Ellen, the fayrest ladye there, + Must bring his steed to the stall. + + There twenty four fayre ladyes were + A playinge at the chesse, + And Ellen, the fayrest ladye there, 95 + Must bring his horse to gresse. + + And then bespake Childe Waters sister, + These were the wordes sayd shee: + "You have the prettyest page, brother, + That ever I did see; 100 + + "But that his bellye it is soe bigge, + His girdle stands soe hye; + And ever, I pray you, Childe Waters, + Let him in my chamber lye." + + "It is not fit for a little foot-page, 105 + That has run throughe mosse and myre, + To lye in the chamber of any ladye, + That weares soe riche attyre. + + "It is more meete for a little foot-page, + That has run throughe mosse and myre, 110 + To take his supper upon his knee, + And lye by the kitchen fyre." + + Now when they had supped every one, + To bedd they tooke theyr waye: + He sayd, "Come hither, my little foot-page, 115 + And hearken what I saye. + + "Goe thee downe into yonder towne, + And lowe into the streete; + The fayrest ladye that thou canst finde, + Hyre in mine armes to sleepe; 120 + And take her up in thine armes twaine, + For filing of her feete." + + Ellen is gone into the towne, + And lowe into the streete; + The fayrest ladye that shee colde finde, 125 + She hyred in his armes to sleepe; + And tooke her up in her armes twayne, + For filing of her feete. + + "I praye you nowe, good Childe Waters, + Let mee lye at your feete; + For there is noe place about this house, 130 + Where I may saye a sleepe." + + He gave her leave, and faire Ellen[L133] + Down at his beds feet laye; + This done the nighte drove on apace, 135 + And when it was neare the daye, + + Hee sayd, "Rise up, my little foot-page, + Give my steede corne and haye; + And give him nowe the good black oats, + To carry mee better awaye." 140 + + Up then rose the faire Ellen, + And gave his steede corne and hay; + And soe shee did the good black oates, + To carry him the better awaye. + + She leaned her back to the manger side, 145 + And grievouslye did groane; + She leaned her back to the manger side, + And there shee made her moane. + + And that beheard his mother deare, + Shee heard her woefull woe:[L150] 150 + Shee sayd, "Rise up, thou Childe Waters, + And into thy stable goe. + + "For in thy stable is a ghost, + That grievouslye doth grone; + Or else some woman laboures with childe, 155 + Shee is so woe-begone." + + Up then rose Childe Waters soone, + And did on his shirte of silke; + And then he put on his other clothes, + On his bodye as white as milke. 160 + + And when he came to the stable dore, + Full still there hee did stand, + That hee mighte heare his fayre Ellen, + Howe shee made her monand. + + She sayd, "Lullabye, mine own dear childe, 165 + Lullabye, deare childe, deare; + I wolde thy father were a kinge, + Thy mothere layd on a biere." + + "Peace nowe," hee sayd, "good, faire Ellen, + Bee of good cheere, I praye; 170 + And the bridale and the churchinge bothe + Shall bee upon one daye. + +13, MS. be inne. + +33, 34, supplied by Percy. + +133, 134, supplied by Percy. + +150, her woefull woe, Percy! + + + + +BURD ELLEN. + + +Printed from Mrs. Brown's recitation, in Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, +i. 117. We have restored the text by omitting some interpolations of the +editor, and three concluding stanzas by the same, which, contrary to all +authority, gave a tragic turn to the story. + + Lord John stood in his stable door, + Said he was boun to ride; + Burd Ellen stood in her bower door, + Said she'd rin by his side. + + He's pitten on his cork-heel'd shoon, 5 + And fast awa rade he; + She's clad hersel in page array, + And after him ran she: + + Till they came till a wan water, + And folks do call it Clyde; 10 + Then he's lookit o'er his left shoulder, + Says, "Lady, will ye ride?" + + "O I learnt it wi' my bower woman, + And I learnt it for my weal, + Whanever I cam to wan water, 15 + To swim like ony eel." + + But the firsten stap the lady stappit, + The water came till her knee; + "Ochon, alas!" said the lady, + "This water's o'er deep for me." 20 + + The nexten stap the lady stappit, + The water came till her middle; + And sighin says that gay lady, + "I've wat my gouden girdle." + + The thirden stap the lady stappit, 25 + The water came till her pap; + And the bairn that was in her twa sides + For cauld began to quake. + + "Lie still, lie still, my ain dear babe; + Ye work your mother wae: 30 + Your father rides on high horse back, + Cares little for us twae." + + O about the midst o' Clyde's water + There was a yeard-fast stane; + He lightly turn'd his horse about, 35 + And took her on him behin. + + "O tell me this now, good lord John, + And a word ye dinna lie, + How far it is to your lodgin, + Whare we this night maun be?" 40 + + "O see na ye yon castell, Ellen, + That shines sae fair to see? + There is a lady in it, Ellen, + Will sinder you and me. + + "There is a lady in that castell 45 + Will sinder you and I"-- + "Betide me weal, betide me wae, + I sall gang there and try." + + "My dogs shall eat the good white bread, + And ye shall eat the bran; 50 + Then will ye sigh, and say, alas! + That ever I was a man!" + + "O I shall eat the good white bread, + And your dogs shall eat the bran; + And I hope to live to bless the day, 55 + That ever ye was a man." + + "O my horse shall eat the good white meal, + And ye sall eat the corn; + Then will ye curse the heavy hour + That ever your love was born." 60 + + ["O I shall eat the good white meal, + And your horse shall eat the corn;][L62] + I ay sall bless the happy hour + That ever my love was born." + + O four and twenty gay ladies 65 + Welcom'd lord John to the ha', + But a fairer lady than them a' + Led his horse to the stable sta.' + + O four and twenty gay ladies + Welcom'd lord John to the green; 70 + But a fairer lady than them a' + At the manger stood alane. + + When bells were rung, and mass was sung, + And a' men boun to meat, + Burd Ellen was at the bye-table 75 + Amang the pages set. + + "O eat and drink, my bonny boy, + The white bread and the beer."-- + "The never a bit can I eat or drink, + My heart's sae fu' o' fear." 80 + + "O eat and drink, my bonny boy, + The white bread and the wine."-- + "O how sall I eat or drink, master, + Wi' heart sae fu' o' pine?" + + But out and spak lord John's mother, 85 + And a wise woman was she: + "Whare met ye wi' that bonny boy, + That looks sae sad on thee? + + Sometimes his cheek is rosy red, + And sometimes deadly wan; 90 + He's liker a woman big wi' bairn, + Than a young lord's serving man." + + "O it makes me laugh, my mother dear, + Sic words to hear frae thee; + He is a squire's ae dearest son, 95 + That for love has followed me. + + "Rise up, rise up, my bonny boy, + Gi'e my horse corn and hay."-- + "O that I will, my master dear, + As quickly as I may." 100 + + She's ta'en the hay under her arm, + The corn intill her hand, + And she's gane to the great stable, + As fast as e'er she can. + + "O room ye round, my bonny brown steeds, 105 + O room ye near the wa'; + For the pain that strikes me through my sides + Full soon will gar me fa'." + + She lean'd her back against the wa'; + Strong travel came her on; 110 + And e'en amang the great horse feet + Burd Ellen brought forth her son. + + Lord Johnis mither intill her bower + Was sitting all alane, + When, in the silence o' the nicht, 115 + She heard Burd Ellen's mane. + + "Won up, won up, my son," she says, + "Gae see how a' does fare; + For I think I hear a woman's groans, + And a bairnie greetin' sair." 120 + + O hastily he gat him up, + Staid neither for hose nor shoon, + And he's doen him to the stable door + Wi' the clear light o' the moon. + + He strack the door hard wi' his foot, 125 + Sae has he wi' his knee, + And iron locks and iron bars + Into the floor flung he: + "Be not afraid, Burd Ellen," he says, + "There's nane come in but me. 130 + + "Tak up, tak up my bonny young son; + Gar wash him wi' the milk; + Tak up, tak up my fair lady, + Gar row her in the silk. + + "And cheer thee up, Burd Ellen," he says, 135 + "Look nae mair sad nor wae; + For your marriage and your kirkin too + Sall baith be in ae day." + +62,63, according to Jamieson, the same as vv. 54, 55, but here formed on +their model, from 57, 58. + + + + +ERLINTON. + + +First published in the _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, ii. +351,--"from the collation of two copies obtained from recitation." + +_Erlinton_ and _The Child of Elle_ are corrupt varieties of _The Douglas +Tragedy_. The passage referred to in vol. ii. p. 114, is remarked on in +a note at the end of the ballad. + + Erlinton had a fair daughter; + I wat he weird her in a great sin, + For he has built a bigly bower, + An' a' to put that lady in. + + An' he has warn'd her sisters six, 5 + An' sae has he her brethren se'en, + Outher to watch her a' the night, + Or else to seek her morn an e'en. + + She hadna been i' that bigly bower, + Na not a night, but barely ane, 10 + Till there was Willie, her ain true love, + Chapp'd at the door, cryin', "Peace within!" + + "O whae is this at my bower door, + That chaps sae late, or kens the gin?" + "O it is Willie, your ain true love, 15 + I pray you rise an' let me in!" + + "But in my bower there is a wake, + An' at the wake there is a wane; + But I'll come to the green-wood the morn, + Whar blooms the brier, by mornin' dawn." 20 + + Then she's gane to her bed again, + Where she has layen till the cock crew thrice, + Then she said to her sisters a', + "Maidens, 'tis time for us to rise." + + She pat on her back her silken gown, 25 + An' on her breast a siller pin, + An' she's ta'en a sister in ilka hand, + An' to the green-wood she is gane. + + She hadna walk'd in the green-wood, + Na not a mile but barely ane, 30 + Till there was Willie, her ain true love, + Wha frae her sisters has her ta'en. + + He took her sisters by the hand, + He kiss'd them baith, an' sent them hame, + An' he's ta'en his true love him behind, 35 + And through the green-wood they are gane. + + They hadna ridden in the bonnie green-wood, + Na not a mile but barely ane, + When there came fifteen o' the boldest knights, + That ever bare flesh, blood, or bane. 40 + + The foremost was an aged knight, + He wore the grey hair on his chin: + Says, "Yield to me thy lady bright, + An' thou shalt walk the woods within." + + "For me to yield my lady bright 45 + To such an aged knight as thee, + People wad think I war gane mad, + Or a' the courage flown frae me." + + But up then spake the second knight, + I wat he spake right boustouslie: 50 + "Yield me thy life, or thy lady bright, + Or here the tane of us shall die." + + "My lady is my warld's meed;[L53] + My life I winna yield to nane; + But if ye be men of your manhead, 55 + Ye'll only fight me ane by ane." + + He lighted aff his milk-white steed, + An' gae his lady him by the head, + Say'n, "See ye dinna change your cheer, + Untill ye see my body bleed." 60 + + He set his back unto an aik, + He set his feet against a stane, + An' he has fought these fifteen men, + An' kill'd them a' but barely ane; + For he has left that aged knight, 65 + An' a' to carry the tidings hame. + + When he gaed to his lady fair, + I wat he kiss'd her tenderlie: + "Thou art mine ain love, I have thee bought; + Now we shall walk the green-wood free." 70 + +53, Should we not read _warld's mate_? + +NOTE to v. 59, 60. + + "Say'n, 'See ye dinna change your cheer, + Untill ye see my body bleed.'" + +As has been remarked (vol. ii. p. 114), _Erlinton_ retains an important, +and even fundamental trait of the older forms of the story, which is not +found in any other of the English versions of the _Douglas Tragedy_. It +was a northern superstition that to call a man by name while he was +engaged in fight was a fatal omen, and hence a phrase, "to +name-to-death." To avert this danger, Ribolt, in nearly all the +Scandinavian ballads, entreats Guldborg not to _pronounce his name_, +even if she sees him bleeding or struck down. In her agony at seeing the +last of her brothers about to be slain, Guldborg forgets her lover's +injunction, calls on him by name to stop, and thus brings about the +catastrophe. Ignorant reciters have either dropped the corresponding +passage in the English ballad, or (as in this case) have so corrupted +it, that its significance is only to be made out by comparison with the +ancient copies. + + + + +THE CHILD OF ELLE. + + +"From a fragment in the Editor's folio MS., which, though extremely +defective and mutilated, appeared to have so much merit, that it excited +a strong desire to attempt the completion of the story. The reader will +easily discover the supplemental stanzas by their inferiority, and at +the same time be inclined to pardon it, when he considers how difficult +it must be to imitate the affecting simplicity and artless beauties of +the original." PERCY, _Reliques_, i. 113. (See vol. ii. p. 114.) + +It must be acknowledged that this truly modest apology was not +altogether uncalled for. So extensive are Percy's alterations and +additions, that the reader will have no slight difficulty in detecting +the few traces that are left of the genuine composition. Nevertheless, +Sir Walter Scott avers that the corrections are "in the true style of +Gothic embellishment!" + + On yonder hill a castle standes, + With walles and towres bedight, + And yonder lives the Child of Elle, + A younge and comely knighte. + + The Child of Elle to his garden wente, 5 + And stood at his garden pale, + Whan, lo! he beheld fair Emmelines page + Come trippinge downe the dale. + + The Child of Elle he hyed him thence, + Ywis he stoode not stille, 10 + And soone he mette faire Emmelines page + Come climbing up the hille. + + "Nowe Christe thee save, thou little foot-page, + Now Christe thee save and see! + Oh telle me how does thy ladye gaye, 15 + And what may thy tydinges bee?" + + "My lady shee is all woe-begone, + And the teares they falle from her eyne; + And aye she laments the deadlye feude + Betweene her house and thine." 20 + + "And here shee sends thee a silken scarfe, + Bedewde with many a teare, + And biddes thee sometimes thinke on her, + Who loved thee so deare. + + "And here shee sends thee a ring of golde, 25 + The last boone thou mayst have, + And biddes thee weare it for her sake, + Whan she is layde in grave. + + "For, ah! her gentle heart is broke, + And in grave soone must shee bee, 30 + Sith her father hath chose her a new, new love, + And forbidde her to think of thee. + + "Her father hath brought her a carlish knight, + Sir John of the north countraye, + And within three dayes shee must him wedde, 35 + Or he vowes he will her slaye." + + "Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page, + And greet thy ladye from mee, + And telle her that I, her owne true love, + Will dye, or sette her free. 40 + + "Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page, + And let thy fair ladye know, + This night will I bee at her bowre-windowe, + Betide me weale or woe." + + The boye he tripped, the boye he ranne, 45 + He neither stint ne stayd, + Untill he came to fair Emmelines bowre, + Whan kneeling downe he sayd: + + "O ladye, Ive been with thy own true love, + And he greets thee well by mee; 50 + This night will he bee at thy bowre-windowe, + And dye or sette thee free." + + Nowe daye was gone, and night was come, + And all were fast asleepe, + All save the ladye Emmeline, 55 + Who sate in her bowre to weepe: + + And soone shee heard her true loves voice + Lowe whispering at the walle: + "Awake, awake, my deare ladye, + Tis I, thy true love, call. 60 + + "Awake, awake, my ladye deare, + Come, mount this faire palfraye: + This ladder of ropes will lette thee downe, + Ile carrye thee hence awaye." + + "Nowe nay, nowe nay, thou gentle knight, 65 + Nowe nay, this may not bee; + For aye sould I tint my maiden fame, + If alone I should wend with thee." + + "O ladye, thou with a knight so true + Mayst safelye wend alone; 70 + To my ladye mother I will thee bringe, + Where marriage shall make us one." + + "My father he is a baron bolde, + Of lynage proude and hye; + And what would he saye if his daughter 75 + Awaye with a knight should fly? + + "Ah! well I wot, he never would rest, + Nor his meate should doe him no goode, + Till he had slayne thee, Child of Elle, + And seene thy deare hearts bloode." 80 + + "O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette, + And a little space him fro, + I would not care for thy cruel father, + Nor the worst that he could doe. + + "O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette, 85 + And once without this walle, + I would not care for thy cruel father, + Nor the worst that might befalle." + + Faire Emmeline sighed, faire Emmeline wept, + And aye her heart was woe: 90 + At length he seizde her lilly-white hand, + And downe the ladder he drewe. + + And thrice he claspde her to his breste, + And kist her tenderlie: + The teares that fell from her fair eyes, 95 + Ranne like the fountayne free. + + Hee mounted himselfe on his steede so talle, + And her on a faire palfraye, + And slung his bugle about his necke, + And roundlye they rode awaye. 100 + + All this beheard her owne damselle, + In her bed whereas shee ley; + Quoth shee, "My lord shall knowe of this, + Soe I shall have golde and fee. + + "Awake, awake, thou baron bolde! 105 + Awake, my noble dame! + Your daughter is fledde with the Childe of Elle, + To doe the deede of shame." + + The baron he woke, the baron he rose, + And called his merrye men all: 110 + "And come thou forth, Sir John the knighte; + The ladye is carried to thrall." + + Fair Emmeline scant had ridden a mile, + A mile forth of the towne, + When she was aware of her fathers men 115 + Come galloping over the downe. + + And foremost came the carlish knight, + Sir John of the north countraye: + "Nowe stop, nowe stop, thou false traitoure, + Nor carry that ladye awaye. 120 + + "For she is come of hye lynage, + And was of a ladye borne, + And ill it beseems thee, a false churles sonne, + To carrye her hence to scorne." + + "Nowe loud thou lyest, Sir John the knight, 125 + Nowe thou doest lye of mee; + A knight mee gott, and a ladye me bore, + Soe never did none by thee. + + "But light nowe downe, my ladye faire, + Light downe, and hold my steed, 130 + While I and this discourteous knighte + Doe trye this arduous deede. + + "But light now downe, my deare ladye, + Light downe, and hold my horse; + While I and this discourteous knight 135 + Doe trye our valours force." + + Fair Emmeline sighde, fair Emmeline wept, + And aye her heart was woe, + While twixt her love and the carlish knight + Past many a baleful blowe. 140 + + The Child of Elle hee fought soe well, + As his weapon he wavde amaine, + That soone he had slaine the carlish knight, + And layde him upon the plaine. + + And nowe the baron, and all his men 145 + Full fast approached nye: + Ah! what may ladye Emmeline doe? + Twere now no boote to flye. + + Her lover he put his horne to his mouth, + And blew both loud and shrill, 150 + And soone he saw his owne merry men + Come ryding over the hill. + + "Nowe hold thy hand, thou bold baron, + I pray thee, hold thy hand, + Nor ruthless rend two gentle hearts, 155 + Fast knit in true loves band. + + "Thy daughter I have dearly lovde + Full long and many a day; + But with such love as holy kirke + Hath freelye sayd wee may. 160 + + "O give consent shee may be mine, + And blesse a faithfull paire; + My lands and livings are not small, + My house and lynage faire. + + "My mother she was an earles daughter, 165 + And a noble knyght my sire----" + The baron he frownde, and turnde away + With mickle dole and ire. + + Fair Emmeline sighde, faire Emmeline wept, + And did all tremblinge stand; 170 + At lengthe she sprange upon her knee, + And held his lifted hand. + + "Pardon, my lorde and father deare, + This faire yong knyght and mee: + Trust me, but for the carlish knyght, 175 + I never had fled from thee. + + "Oft have you callde your Emmeline + Your darling and your joye; + O let not then your harsh resolves + Your Emmeline destroye." 180 + + The baron he stroakt his dark-brown cheeke, + And turnde his heade asyde, + To wipe awaye the starting teare, + He proudly strave to hyde. + + In deepe revolving thought he stoode, 185 + And musde a little space; + Then raisde faire Emmeline from the grounde, + With many a fond embrace. + + "Here take her, Child of Elle," he sayd, + And gave her lillye hand; 190 + "Here take my deare and only child, + And with her half my land. + + "Thy father once mine honour wrongde, + In dayes of youthful pride; + Do thou the injurye repayre 195 + In fondnesse for thy bride. + + "And as thou love her and hold her deare, + Heaven prosper thee and thine; + And nowe my blessing wend wi' thee, + My lovelye Emmeline." 200 + + + + +SIR ALDINGAR. + + +Of this very remarkable ballad two copies have been printed in English, +_Sir Aldingar_, from the Percy MS. (_Reliques_, ii. 53), "with +conjectural emendations and the insertion of some additional stanzas," +and _Sir Hugh Le Blond_, by Scott, from recitation. The corresponding +Danish ballad, _Ravengaard og Memering_, first published by Grundtvig, +is extant in not less than five copies, the oldest derived from a MS. of +the middle of the 16th century, the others from recent recitations. With +these Grundtvig has given an Icelandic version, from a MS. of the 17th +century, another in the dialect of the Faroe Islands, and a third half +Danish, half Faroish, both as still sung by the people. The ballad was +also preserved, not long ago, in Norway.--_Danmarks Gamle Folkeviser_, +i. 177-213, ii. 640-645. + +All these ballads contain a story one and the same in the essential +features--a story which occurs repeatedly in connection with historical +personages, in Germany, France, Italy, and Spain, as well as +England,--and which has also furnished the theme for various modern +romances, poems, and tragedies. The connection of the different forms +of the legend has been investigated by the Danish editor at considerable +length and with signal ability; and we shall endeavor to present the +principal results of his wide research in the few pages which our narrow +limits allow us to give to such questions. + +The names of the characters in the Danish ballads are Henry (called Duke +of Brunswick and of Schleswig in the oldest), Gunild (of Spires, called +also Gunder), Ravengaard, and Memering. To these correspond, in the +English story, King Henry, Queen Eleanor, Sir Aldingar (the resemblance +of this name to Ravengaard will be noted), and a boy, to whom no name is +assigned. Eleanor, it hardly need be remarked, is a queen's name +somewhat freely used in ballads (see vol. vi. 209, and vol. vii. 291), +and it is possible that the consort of Henry II. is here intended, +though her reputation both in history and in song hardly favors that +supposition. + +The occurrence of Spires in the old Danish ballad would naturally induce +us to look for the origin of the story in the annals of the German +emperors of the Franconian line, who held their court at Spires, and are +most of them buried in the cathedral at that place. A very promising +clue is immediately found in the history of King (afterwards Emperor) +Henry III., son of the Emperor Conrad II. Salicus. This Henry was +married, in the year 1036, to Gunhild, daughter of Canute the Great. An +English chronicler, William of Malmesbury, writing in the first half of +the 12th century, tells us that after this princess had lived many years +in honorable wedlock, she was accused of adultery. Being forced to clear +herself by wager of battle, she found in all her retinue no one who was +willing to risk a combat with her accuser, a man of gigantic stature, +save a little boy whom she had brought with her from England. The issue +of the duel established her innocence,--her diminutive champion +succeeding by some miracle in ham-stringing his huge adversary; but it +is alleged that the queen refused to return to her husband, and passed +the rest of a long life in a monastery.[3] + +[3] "Although there are seven centuries between William and our times," +says Grundtvig, "and the North Sea between Jutland and the land of his +birth, it almost seems as if he had taken his account from the very +ballad which is at this day sung on the little island of Fuur in the Lym +Fiord." + +A Norman-French _Life of Edward the Confessor_, written about 1250, +repeats this story, and adds the champion's name.[4] + +[4] We have substituted this paragraph instead of a later chronicle +cited by Grundtvig. The translation is that of the English editor: +_Lives of Edward the Confessor_ (p. 39, 193), recently published by +authority of the British government. + + "A daughter had the king, + Who was not so beautiful as clever. + Gunnild her name; and he gave her + To him who with love had asked for her,-- + The noble Emperor Henry. + She remained not long with him, + Because by felons, who had no reason + To blame her calumniously, + She was charged with shame: + To the Emperor was she accused. + According to the custom of the empire, + It behoved her to clear herself from shame + By battle; and she takes much trouble + To find one to be her champion: + But finds no one, for very huge was + The accuser,--as a giant. + But a dwarf, whom she had brought up, + Undertook the fight with him. + At the first blow he hamstrung him; + At the second he cut off his feet. + Mimecan was the dwarf's name, + Who was so good a champion, + As the history, which is written, + Says of him. The lady was freed from blame, + But the lady the emperor + No more will have as her lord." + +Finally, John Brompton, writing two hundred years after William of +Malmesbury, repeats his account, and gives the names of _both_ the +combatants,--"a youth called Mimicon, and a man of gigantic size, by +name Roddyngar" (Raadengard = the Danish Ravengaard). + +The story of William of Malmesbury and the rest, though it is +sufficiently in accordance with the Danish and English ballads, is in +direct opposition to the testimony of contemporary German chroniclers, +who represent Queen Gunhild as living on the best terms with her +husband, and instead of growing old in God's service in a nunnery, as +dying of the plague in Italy two years after her marriage, and hardly +twenty years of age. It is manifest, therefore, that the English +chroniclers derived their accounts from ballads current at their day,[5] +which, as they were not founded on any real passages in the life of +Gunhild, require us to look a little further for their origin. + +[5] William of Malmesbury refers to ballads which were made on the +splendid nuptial procession, by which Gunhild was conducted to the ship +that was to bear her to her husband, as still sung about the streets in +his time. + +The empress Gunhild was called by the German chroniclers of her day by +various names--as Cunihild, Chunihild, Chunelind, and _Cunigund_, which +last name she is said to have assumed at her coronation. This change of +Gunhild's name accounts for the unfounded scandals which were in +circulation about her in her native land, scarcely a hundred years after +her death. Cunigund, wife of Henry III., was in fact confounded with a +contemporary German queen and empress, _St. Cunigund_, widow of the +Emperor Henry II. This mistake, which has been made more than once, will +be acknowledged to be a very natural one (especially for foreigners), +when it is considered that both queens not only bore the same name, but +were married each to an emperor of the same name (Henry), both of whom +again were sons of Conrads.[6] + +[6] An argument in confirmation of what is here said is afforded by a +German annalist of the 14th century, who states, under the date 1038, +that the empress Cunigund died the 3d of March, and was buried at +Spires. Now St. Cunigund actually did die the 3d of March, and that day +is dedicated to her in the Roman calendar, but the year was 1040, and +she was buried at Bamberg, while Gunhild died in 1038 (July 18), and was +buried in the monastery of Limburg, near Spires. + +Referring now to the history of St. Cunigund, we read in the papal bull +of Innocent III., by which she was canonized in the year 1200, that "she +consecrated her virginity to the Lord, and preserved it intact,--so +that when at one time by the instigation of the enemy of mankind a +suspicion had been raised against her, she, to prove her innocence, +walked with bare feet over burning ploughshares, and came off +unscathed." Again, we read in a slightly more recent German chronicle, +as follows: "The Devil, who hates all the righteous, and is ever seeking +to bring them to shame, stirred up the Emperor against his wife, +persuading him, through a certain duke, that in contempt of her husband +she had committed adultery with another man. The empress offered to +undergo an ordeal, and a great many bishops came to see it carried out. +Whereupon seven glowing ploughshares were laid on the ground, over which +the empress was forced to walk in bare feet, to attest her innocence, +... which, when the king saw, he prostrated himself before her with all +his nobles." Adalbert's Life of St. Henry (which is, at the latest, of +the 12th century), agreeing in all essentials with these accounts, adds +an important particular, explaining how it was that the Devil brought +the queen's honor into question, namely, that he was seen by many to go +in and out of her private chamber, in the likeness of a handsome young +man.--St. Cunigund is said to have undergone the ordeal at Bamberg, in +the year 1017. The story, however, is without foundation, not being +mentioned by any contemporary writers, but first appearing in various +legends, towards the year 1200. + +But St. Cunigund is by no means the first German empress of whom the +story under consideration is told. A writer contemporary with her, who +has nothing to say about the miracle just recounted, relates something +very similar of _another_ empress, one hundred and thirty years earlier, +namely, of Richardis, wife of Charles III. The tale runs that this +Charles, in the year 887, accused his queen of unlawful connection with +a Bishop. Her Majesty offered to subject herself to the Judgment of God, +either by duel or by the ordeal of burning ploughshares. It is not said +that either test was applied, but only that the queen retired into a +cloister which she had herself founded. This is the contemporary +account. A century and a half later we are told that an ordeal by +_water_ was actually undergone, which again is changed by later writers +into an ordeal by _fire_,--the empress passing through the flames in a +waxed garment, without receiving the least harm; in memory of which, a +day was kept, five centuries after, in honor of St. Richardis, in the +monastery to which she withdrew. + +Several other similar cases might be mentioned, but it will suffice to +refer to only one more, more ancient than any of those already cited. +Paulus Diaconus (who wrote about the year 800) relates that a Lombard +queen, Gundiberg (of the 7th century), having been charged with +infidelity, one of her servants asked permission of the king to fight in +the lists for his mistress's honor, and conquered his antagonist in the +presence of all the people. The same story is told, more in detail, by +Aimoin, a somewhat more recent writer, of another Gundeberg, likewise of +the 7th century. A Lombard nobleman makes insolent proposals to his +queen, and meets with a most emphatic repulse. Upon this he goes to the +king with a story that the queen has been three days conspiring to +poison her husband, and put her accomplice in his place. The tale is +believed, and the queen shut up in prison. The Frankish king, a relation +of the injured woman, remonstrates on the injustice of condemnation +without trial, and the king consents to submit the question to a duel. +The champion of innocence is victorious, and the real criminal is +condignly punished. This form of the legend, the oldest of all that have +been cited, approaches very near to the Danish and English ballads. + +Our conclusion would therefore be, with Grundtvig, that the ballads of +_Sir Aldingar_, _Ravengaard and Memering_, and the rest, are of common +derivation with the legends of St. Cunigund, Gundeberg, &c., and that +all these are offshoots of a story which, "beginning far back in the +infancy of the Gothic race and their poetry, is continually turning up, +now here and now there, without having a proper home in any definite +time or assignable place." Many circumstances corroborative of this view +might be added, but we must content ourselves with obviating a possible +objection. An invariable feature in the story is the _judicium Dei_ by +which the innocence of the accused wife is established, but there is +much difference in the various forms of the legend as to the _kind_ of +ordeal employed, and some minds may here find difficulty. A close +observation, however, will show such a connection between the different +accounts as to prove an original unity. Even the earlier legends of St. +Cunigund do not agree on this point; one makes her to have walked over +burning ploughshares, another to have carried red-hot iron in her hands. +The Icelandic copy of the ballad has both of these: the queen "carries +iron and walks on steel"; and there is also a "judgment by iron bands." +All these three tests are found in the Faroe ballad, which brings in +Memering besides, and thus furnishes a transition to the Danish, which +says nothing about the trial by fire, and has only the duel. Finally the +English ballad completes the circle with the pile at which the queen was +to be burned, in case she should not be able to prove her innocence by +the duel. + +At a time uncertain, but earlier than the 14th century, this legend was +transplanted into the literature of Southern Europe. It is found in +various Spanish chronicles, the earliest the _Historia de Cataluña_ of +Bernardo Desclot, written about 1300; also in a Provençal and a French +chronicle of the 17th century. In most of these the part of the queen's +champion is assigned to the well-known Raimund Berengar, Count of +Barcelona, who, in the year 1113, took Majorca from the Moors. The +popularity of the story is further proved by the Spanish romance, _El +Conde de Barcelona y la Emperatriz de Alemania_; the French romance +_L'Histoire de Palanus, Comte de Lyon_; and a novel of Bandello, the +44th of the Second Part. This last was re-written and published in 1713, +with slight changes, as an original tale, by M^{me} de Fontaines +(_Histoire de la Comtesse de Savoie_), whence Voltaire borrowed +materials for two of his tragedies, _Tancrède_ and _Artémire_. + +By the circuitous route of Spain the story returns to England in a +romance of the 15th century, _The Erle of Tolous_ (Ritson, _Metr. Rom._ +iii. p. 93). Nearly related with this romance is the German story-book +(derived from the French) on which Hans Sachs founded his tragedy, _Der +Ritter Golmi mit der Herzogin auss Britanien_. Another German popular +story-book, _Hirlanda_, exhibits a close resemblance to our ballad of +_Sir Aldingar_.[7] + +[7] In § v. of his Introduction to _Ravengaard og Memering_, Grundtvig +seeks to show that this ballad, though independent in its origin, was at +one time, like many others, woven into the great South-Gothic epic of +Diderik of Bern, and then, having divided the legend into two +portions,--the Accusation and its Cause, the Vindication and its +Mode,--he, in § vi. vii. traces out with wonderful learning and +penetration the extensive ramifications of the first part, taken by +itself, through the romance of the Middle Ages. The whole essay is +beyond praise. + +"This old fabulous legend is given from the editor's folio MS., with +conjectural emendations, and the insertion of some additional stanzas to +supply and complete the story. It has been suggested to the editor that +the author of the poem seems to have had in his eye the story of +Gunhilda, who is sometimes called Eleanor (?), and was married to the +emperor (here called king) Henry."--PERCY. + + Our king he kept a false stewarde, + Sir Aldingar they him call; + A falser steward than he was one, + Servde not in bower nor hall. + + He wolde have layne by our comelye queene, 5 + Her deere worshippe to betraye; + Our queene she was a good woman, + And evermore said him naye. + + Sir Aldingar was wrothe in his mind, + With her hee was never content, 10 + Till traiterous meanes he colde devyse, + In a fyer to have her brent. + + There came a lazar to the kings gate, + A lazar both blinde and lame; + He tooke the lazar upon his backe, 15 + Him on the queenes bed has layne. + + "Lye still, lazar, wheras thou lyest, + Looke thou goe not hence away; + Ile make thee a whole man and a sound + In two howers of the day." 20 + + Then went him forth Sir Aldingar, + And hyed him to our king: + "If I might have grace, as I have space, + Sad tydings I could bring." + + "Say on, say on, Sir Aldingar, 25 + Saye on the soothe to mee." + "Our queene hath chosen a new, new love, + And shee will have none of thee. + + "If shee had chosen a right good knight, + The lesse had beene her shame; 30 + But she hath chose her a lazar man, + A lazar both blinde and lame." + + "If this be true, thou Aldingar, + The tyding thou tellest to me, + Then will I make thee a rich, rich knight, 35 + Rich both of golde and fee. + + "But if it be false, Sir Aldingar, + As God nowe grant it bee! + Thy body, I sweare by the holye rood, + Shall hang on the gallows tree." 40 + + He brought our king to the queenes chamber, + And opend to him the dore: + "A lodlye love," King Harry says, + "For our queene," dame Elinore! + + "If thou were a man, as thou art none, 45 + Here on my sword thoust dye; + But a payre of new gallowes shall be built, + And there shalt thou hang on hye." + + Forth then hyed our king, iwysse, + And an angry man was hee, 50 + And soone he found queene Elinore, + That bride so bright of blee. + + "Now God you save, our queene, madame, + And Christ you save and see! + Here you have chosen a newe, newe love, 55 + And you will have none of mee. + + "If you had chosen a right good knight, + The lesse had been your shame; + But you have chose you a lazar man, + A lazar both blinde and lame. 60 + + "Therfore a fyer there shall be built, + And brent all shalt thou bee."-- + "Now out, alacke!" said our comly queene, + "Sir Aldingar's false to mee. + + "Now out, alacke!" sayd our comlye queene, 65 + "My heart with griefe will brast: + I had thought swevens had never been true, + I have proved them true at last. + + "I dreamt in my sweven on Thursday eve, + In my bed wheras I laye, 70 + I dreamt a grype and a grimlie beast + Had carryed my crowne awaye; + + "My gorgett and my kirtle of golde, + And all my faire head-geere; + And he wold worrye me with his tush, 75 + And to his nest y-beare: + + "Saving there came a little gray hawke, + A merlin him they call, + Which untill the grounde did strike the grype, + That dead he downe did fall. 80 + + "Giffe I were a man, as now I am none, + A battell wold I prove, + To fight with that traitor Aldingar: + Att him I cast my glove. + + "But seeing Ime able noe battell to make, 85 + My liege, grant me a knight + To fight with that traitor, Sir Aldingar, + To maintaine me in my right." + + "Now forty dayes I will give thee + To seeke thee a knight therin: 90 + If thou find not a knight in forty dayes, + Thy bodye it must brenn." + + Then shee sent east, and shee sent west, + By north and south bedeene; + But never a champion colde she find, 95 + Wolde fight with that knight soe keene. + + Now twenty dayes were spent and gone, + Noe helpe there might be had; + Many a teare shed our comelye queene, + And aye her hart was sad. 100 + + Then came one of the queenes damselles, + And knelt upon her knee: + Cheare up, cheare up, my gracious dame, + I trust yet helpe may be. + + "And here I will make mine avowe, 105 + And with the same me binde, + That never will I return to thee, + Till I some helpe may finde." + + Then forth she rode on a faire palfraye, + Oer hill and dale about; 110 + But never a champion colde she finde, + Wolde fighte with that knight so stout. + + And nowe the daye drewe on apace, + When our good queene must dye; + All woe-begone was that fair damselle, 115 + When she found no helpe was nye. + + All woe-begone was that faire damselle, + And the salt teares fell from her eye; + When lo! as she rode by a rivers side, + She met with a tinye boye. 120 + + A tinye boy she mette, God wot, + All clad in mantle of golde; + He seemed noe more in mans likenesse, + Then a childe of four yeere olde. + + "Why grieve you, damselle faire?" he sayd, 125 + "And what doth cause you moane?" + The damsell scant wolde deigne a looke, + But fast she pricked on. + + "Yet turne againe, thou faire damselle, + And greete thy queene from mee; 130 + When bale is at hyest, boote is nyest; + Nowe helpe enoughe may bee. + + "Bid her remember what she dreamt, + In her bedd wheras shee laye; + How when the grype and the grimly beast 135 + Wolde have carried her crowne awaye, + + "Even then there came the little gray hawke, + And saved her from his clawes: + Then bidd the queene be merry at hart, + For heaven will fende her cause." 140 + + Back then rode that fair damselle, + And her hart it lept for glee: + And when she told her gracious dame, + A gladd woman then was shee. + + But when the appointed day was come, 145 + No helpe appeared nye; + Then woeful woeful was her hart, + And the teares stood in her eye. + + And nowe a fyer was built of wood, + And a stake was made of tree; 150 + And now queene Elinor forth was led, + A sorrowful sight to see. + + Three times the herault he waved his hand, + And three times spake on hye; + "Giff any good knight will fende this dame, 155 + Come forth, or shee must dye." + + No knight stood forth, no knight there came, + No helpe appeared nye; + And now the fyer was lighted up, + Queene Elinor she must dye. 160 + + And now the fyer was lighted up, + As hot as hot might bee; + When riding upon a little white steed, + The tinye boye they see. + + "Away with that stake, away with those brands, 165 + And loose our comelye queene: + I am come to fight with Sir Aldingar, + And prove him a traitor keene." + + Forth then stood Sir Aldingar; + But when he saw the chylde, 170 + He laughed, and scoffed, and turned his backe, + And weened he had been beguylde. + + "Now turne, now turne thee, Aldingar, + And eyther fighte or flee; + I trust that I shall avenge the wronge, 175 + Thoughe I am so small to see." + + The boye pulld forth a well good sworde, + So gilt it dazzled the ee; + The first stroke stricken at Aldingar + Smote off his leggs by the knee. 180 + + "Stand up, stand up, thou false traitor, + And fighte upon thy feete, + For, and thou thrive as thou beginst, + Of height wee shall be meete." + + "A priest, a priest," sayes Aldingar, 185 + "While I am a man alive; + "A priest, a priest," sayes Aldingar, + "Me for to houzle and shrive. + + "I wolde have laine by our comlie queene, + But shee wolde never consent; 190 + Then I thought to betraye her unto our kinge, + In a fyer to have her brent. + + "There came a lazar to the kings gates, + A lazar both blind and lame; + I tooke the lazar upon my backe, 195 + And on her bedd had him layne. + + "Then ranne I to our comlye king, + These tidings sore to tell: + But ever alacke!" sayes Aldingar, + "Falsing never doth well. 200 + + "Forgive, forgive me, queene, madame, + The short time I must live:" + "Nowe Christ forgive thee, Aldingar, + As freely I forgive." + + "Here take thy queene, our King Harrye, 205 + And love her as thy life, + For never had a king in Christentye + A truer and fairer wife." + + King Harrye ran to claspe his queene, + And loosed her full sone; 210 + Then turnd to look for the tinye boye:-- + The boye was vanisht and gone. + + But first he had touchd the lazar man, + And stroakt him with his hand; + The lazar under the gallowes tree 215 + All whole and sounde did stand. + + The lazar under the gallowes tree + Was comelye, straight, and tall; + King Henrye made him his head stewarde, + To wayte withinn his hall. 220 + + + + +SIR HUGH LE BLOND. + +_Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 51. + + +"The tradition, upon which the ballad is founded, is universally current +in the Mearns; and the Editor is informed, that, till very lately, the +sword, with which Sir Hugh le Blond was believed to have defended the +life and honour of the Queen, was carefully preserved by his +descendants, the Viscounts of Arbuthnot. That Sir Hugh of Arbuthnot +lived in the thirteenth century, is proved by his having, 1282, bestowed +the patronage of the church of Garvoch upon the Monks of Aberbrothwick, +for the safety of his soul.--_Register of Aberbrothwick, quoted by +Crawford in Peerage._ + +"I was favoured with the following copy of _Sir Hugh le Blond_, by K. +Williamson Burnet, Esq. of Monboddo, who wrote it down from the +recitation of an old woman, long in the service of the Arbuthnot +family. Of course, the diction is very much humbled, and it has, in all +probability, undergone many corruptions; but its antiquity is +indubitable, and the story, though indifferently told, is in itself +interesting. It is believed that there have been many more verses." +SCOTT. + + The birds sang sweet as ony bell, + The world had not their make, + The Queen she's gone to her chamber, + With Rodingham to talk. + + "I love you well, my Queen, my dame, 5 + 'Bove land and rents so clear, + And for the love of you, my Queen, + Would thole pain most severe."-- + + "If well you love me, Rodingham, + I'm sure so do I thee: 10 + I love you well as any man, + Save the King's fair bodye."-- + + "I love you well, my Queen, my dame; + 'Tis truth that I do tell: + And for to lye a night with you, 15 + The salt seas I would sail."-- + + "Away, away, O Rodingham! + You are both stark and stoor; + Would you defile the King's own bed, + And make his Queen a whore? 20 + + "To-morrow you'd be taken sure, + And like a traitor slain; + And I'd be burned at a stake, + Although I be the Queen."-- + + He then stepp'd out at her room door, 25 + All in an angry mood: + Until he met a leper-man, + Just by the hard way-side. + + He intoxicate the leper-man, + With liquors very sweet: 30 + And gave him more and more to drink, + Until he fell asleep. + + He took him in his armis twa, + And carried him along, + Till he came to the Queen's own bed, 35 + And there he laid him down. + + He then stepp'd out of the Queen's bower, + As swift as any roe, + 'Till he came to the very place + Where the King himself did go. 40 + + The King said unto Rodingham, + "What news have you to me?"-- + He said, "Your Queen's a false woman, + As I did plainly see."-- + + He hasten'd to the Queen's chamber, 45 + So costly and so fine, + Until he came to the Queen's own bed, + Where the leper-man was lain. + + He looked on the leper-man, + Who lay on his Queen's bed; 50 + He lifted up the snaw-white sheets, + And thus he to him said:-- + + "Plooky, plooky, are your cheeks, + And plooky is your chin, + And plooky are your armis twa, 55 + My bonny Queen's layne in. + + "Since she has lain into your arms, + She shall not lye in mine; + Since she has kiss'd your ugsome mouth, + She never shall kiss mine."-- 60 + + In anger he went to the Queen, + Who fell upon her knee; + He said, "You false, unchaste woman, + What's this you've done to me?" + + The Queen then turn'd herself about, 65 + The tear blinded her ee-- + "There's not a knight in a' your court + Dare give that name to me." + + He said, "'Tis true that I do say; + For I a proof did make: 70 + You shall be taken from my bower, + And burned at a stake. + + "Perhaps I'll take my word again, + And may repent the same, + If that you'll get a Christian man 75 + To fight that Rodingham."-- + + "Alas! alas!" then cried our Queen, + "Alas, and woe to me! + There's not a man in all Scotland + Will fight with him for me."-- 80 + + She breathed unto her messengers, + Sent them south, east, and west; + They could find none to fight with him, + Nor enter the contest. + + She breathed on her messengers, 85 + She sent them to the north; + And there they found Sir Hugh le Blond, + To fight him he came forth. + + When unto him they did unfold + The circumstance all right, 90 + He bade them go and tell the Queen, + That for her he would fight. + + The day came on that was to do + That dreadful tragedy; + Sir Hugh le Blond was not come up 95 + To fight for our ladye. + + "Put on the fire," the monster said: + "It is twelve on the bell." + "'Tis scarcely ten, now," said the King; + "I heard the clock mysell."-- 100 + + Before the hour the Queen is brought, + The burning to proceed; + In a black velvet chair she's set, + A token for the dead. + + She saw the flames ascending high, 105 + The tears blinded her ee: + "Where is the worthy knight," she said, + "Who is to fight for me?"-- + + Then up and spak the King himsell, + "My dearest, have no doubt, 110 + For yonder comes the man himsell, + As bold as e'er set out."-- + + They then advanced to fight the duel + With swords of temper'd steel, + Till down the blood of Rodingham 115 + Came running to his heel. + + Sir Hugh took out a lusty sword, + 'Twas of the metal clear, + And he has pierced Rodingham + Till's heart-blood did appear. 120 + + "Confess your treachery, now," he said, + "This day before you die!"-- + "I do confess my treachery, + I shall no longer lye: + + "I like to wicked Haman am, 125 + This day I shall be slain."-- + The Queen was brought to her chamber, + A good woman again. + + The Queen then said unto the King, + "Arbattle's near the sea; 130 + Give it unto the northern knight, + That this day fought for me." + + Then said the King, "Come here, Sir Knight, + And drink a glass of wine; + And, if Arbattle's not enough,[L135] 135 + To it we'll Fordoun join." + +135. Arbattle is the ancient name of the barony of Arbuthnot. Fordun has +long been the patrimony of the same family. S. + + + + +THE KNIGHT, AND SHEPHERD'S DAUGHTER. + + +"This ballad (given from an old black-letter copy, with some +corrections) was popular in the time of Queen Elizabeth, being usually +printed with her picture before it, as Hearne informs us in his preface +to Gul. Neubrig, _Hist. Oxon_, 1719, 8vo. vol. i. p. lxx. It is quoted +in Fletcher's comedy of the _Pilgrim_, act 4, sc. 2." PERCY'S +_Reliques_, iii. 114. + +The Scottish ballad corresponding to Percy's has been printed by +Kinloch, p. 25. Besides this, however, there are three other Scottish +versions, superior to the English in every respect, and much longer. +They are _Earl Richard_, Motherwell, p. 377; (also in Buchan's _Ballads +of the North of Scotland_, ii. 81;) a ballad with the same title in +Kinloch's collection, p. 15; and _Earl Lithgow_, Buchan, ii. 91. In all +these, the futile attempts of the knight to escape marrying the lady, +and the devices by which she aggravates his reluctance to enter into the +match, are managed with no little humour. We give Motherwell's edition a +place next to Percy's, and refer the reader for Kinloch's to the +Appendix. + + There was a shepherds daughter + Came tripping on the waye, + And there by chance a knighte shee mett, + Which caused her to staye. + + "Good morrowe to you, beauteous maide," 5 + These words pronounced hee; + "O I shall dye this daye," he sayd, + "If Ive not my wille of thee." + + "The Lord forbid," the maide replyd, + "That you shold waxe so wode!" 10 + But for all that shee could do or saye,[L11] + He wold not be withstood. + + "Sith you have had your wille of mee, + And put me to open shame, + Now, if you are a courteous knighte, 15 + Tell me what is your name?" + + "Some do call mee Jacke, sweet heart, + And some do call mee Jille; + But when I come to the kings faire courte, + They calle me Wilfulle Wille." 20 + + He sett his foot into the stirrup, + And awaye then he did ride; + She tuckt her girdle about her middle, + And ranne close by his side. + + But when she came to the brode water, 25 + She sett her brest and swamme; + And when she was got out againe, + She tooke to her heels and ranne. + + He never was the courteous knighte, + To saye, "Faire maide, will ye ride?" 30 + And she was ever too loving a maide + To saye, "Sir knighte, abide." + + When she came to the kings faire courte, + She knocked at the ring; + So readye was the king himself 35 + To let this faire maide in. + + "Now Christ you save, my gracious liege, + Now Christ you save and see; + You have a knighte within your courte + This daye hath robbed mee." 40 + + "What hath he robbed thee of, sweet heart? + Of purple or of pall? + Or hath he took thy gaye gold ring + From off thy finger small?" + + "He hath not robbed mee, my liege, 45 + Of purple nor of pall; + But he hath gotten my maidenhead, + Which grieves mee worst of all." + + "Now if he be a batchelor, + His bodye Ile give to thee; 50 + But if he be a married man, + High hanged he shall bee." + + He called downe his merrye men all, + By one, by two, by three; + Sir William used to bee the first, 55 + But nowe the last came hee. + + He brought her downe full fortye pounde, + Tyed up withinne a glove: + "Faire maid, Ile give the same to thee; + Go, seeke thee another love." 60 + + "O Ile have none of your gold," she sayde, + "Nor Ile have none of your fee; + But your faire bodye I must have, + The king hath granted mee." + + Sir William ranne and fetchd her then 65 + Five hundred pound in golde, + Saying, "Faire maide, take this to thee, + Thy fault will never be tolde." + + "Tis not the gold that shall mee tempt," + These words then answered shee, 70 + "But your own bodye I must have, + The king hath granted mee." + + "Would I had drunke the water cleare, + When I did drinke the wine, + Rather than any shepherds brat 75 + Shold bee a ladye of mine! + + "Would I had drank the puddle foule, + When I did drink the ale, + Rather than ever a shepherds brat + Shold tell me such a tale!" 80 + + "A shepherds brat even as I was, + You mote have let mee bee; + I never had come to the kings faire courte, + To crave any love of thee." + + He sett her on a milk-white steede, 85 + And himself upon a graye; + He hung a bugle about his necke, + And soe they rode awaye. + + But when they came unto the place, + Where marriage-rites were done, 90 + She proved herself a dukes daughter, + And he but a squires sonne. + + "Now marrye me, or not, sir knight, + Your pleasure shall be free: + If you make me ladye of one good towne, 95 + Ile make you lord of three." + + "Ah! cursed bee the gold," he sayd; + "If thou hadst not been trewe, + I shold have forsaken my sweet love, + And have changed her for a newe." 100 + + And now their hearts being linked fast, + They joyned hand in hande: + Thus he had both purse, and person too, + And all at his commande. + +11, 12, Percy's. + + + + +EARL RICHARD (B). + +Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 377. From recitation. + + + Earl Richard once on a day, + And all his valiant men so wight, + He did him down to Barnisdale, + Where all the land is fair and light. + + He was aware of a damosel, 5 + I wot fast on she did her bound, + With towers of gold upon her head, + As fair a woman as could be found. + + He said, "Busk on you, fair ladye, + The white flowers and the red; 10 + For I would give my bonnie ship, + To get your maidenhead." + + "I wish your bonnie ship rent and rive, + And drown you in the sea; + For all this would not mend the miss 15 + That ye would do to me." + "The miss is not so great, ladye, + Soon mended it might be. + + "I have four-and-twenty mills in Scotland, + Stands on the water Tay; 20 + You'll have them, and as much flour + As they'll grind in a day." + + "I wish your bonnie ship rent and rive, + And drown you in the sea; + For all that would not mend the miss 25 + That ye would do for me." + "The miss is not so great, lady, + Soon mended it will be. + + "I have four-and-twenty milk-white cows, + All calved in a day; 30 + You'll have them, and as much hained grass + As they all on can gae." + + "I wish your bonnie ship rent and rive, + And drown ye in the sea; + For all that would not mend the miss 35 + That ye would do to me." + "The miss is not so great, ladye, + Soon mended it might be. + + "I have four-and-twenty milk-white steeds, + All foaled in one year; 40 + You'll have them, and as much red gold + As all their backs can bear." + + She turned her right and round about, + And she swore by the mold, + "I would not be your love," said she, 45 + "For that church full of gold." + + He turned him right and round about, + And he swore by the mass, + Says,--"Lady, ye my love shall be, + And gold ye shall have less." 50 + + She turned her right and round about, + And she swore by the moon, + "I would not be your love," says she, + "For all the gold in Rome." + + He turned him right and round about, 55 + And he swore by the moon, + Says,--"Lady, ye my love shall be, + And gold ye shall have none." + + He caught her by the milk-white hand, + And by the grass-green sleeve; 60 + And there has taken his will of her, + Wholly without her leave. + + The lady frowned and sadly blushed, + And oh! but she thought shame: + Says,--"If you are a knight at all, 65 + You surely will tell me your name." + + "In some places they call me Jack, + In other some they call me John; + But when into the Queen's Court, + Oh then Lithcock it is my name." 70 + + "Lithcock! Lithcock!" the lady said, + And oft she spelt it over again; + "Lithcock! it's Latin," the lady said, + "Richard's the English of that name." + + The Knight he rode, the lady ran,[L75] 75 + A live long summer's day; + Till they came to the wan water + That all men do call Tay. + + He set his horse head to the water, + Just thro' it for to ride; 80 + And the lady was as ready as him + The waters for to wade. + + For he had never been as kind-hearted + As to bid the lady ride; + And she had never been so low-hearted 85 + As for to bid him bide. + + But deep into the wan water + There stands a great big stone; + He turned his wight horse head about, + Said, "Lady fair, will ye loup on?" 90 + + She's taken the wand was in her hand, + And struck it on the foam, + And before he got the middle stream, + The lady was on dry land. + "By help of God and our Lady, 95 + My help lyes not in your hand. + + "I learned it from my mother dear,-- + Few is there that has learned better-- + When I came to a deep water, + I can swim thro' like ony otter. 100 + + "I learned it from my mother dear,-- + I find I learned it for my weel; + When I came to a deep water, + I can swim thro' like ony eel." + + "Turn back, turn back, you lady fair, 105 + You know not what I see; + There is a lady in that castle, + That will burn you and me." + "Betide me weal, betide me wae, + That lady will I see." 110 + + She took a ring from her finger, + And gave't the porter for his fee: + Says, "Tak you that, my good porter, + And bid the Queen speak to me." + + And when she came before the Queen, 115 + There she fell low down on her knee: + Says, "There is a knight into your court, + This day has robbed me." + + "O has he robbed you of your gold, + Or has he robbed you of your fee?" 120 + "He has not robbed me of my gold, + He has not robbed me of my fee; + He has robbed me of my maidenhead, + The fairest flower of my bodie." + + "There is no knight in all my court, 125 + That thus has robbed thee, + But you'll have the truth of his right hand, + Or else for your sake he'll die, + Tho' it were Earl Richard, my own brother; + And oh forbid that it be!" 130 + Then, sighing, said the lady fair, + "I wot the samen man is he." + + The Queen called on her merry men, + Even fifty men and three; + Earl Richard used to be the first man, 135 + But now the hindmost was he. + + He's taken out one hundred pounds, + And told it in his glove: + Says, "Tak you that, my lady fair, + And seek another love." 140 + + "Oh no, oh no," the lady cried, + "That's what shall never be; + I'll have the truth of your right hand, + The Queen it gave to me." + + "I wish I had drunk of your water, sister, 145 + When I did drink your wine; + That for a carle's fair daughter, + It does gar me dree all this pine." + + "May be I am a carle's daughter, + And may be never nane; 150 + When ye met me in the green wood, + Why did you not let me alane?" + + "Will you wear the short clothes, + Or will you wear the side; + Or will you walk to your wedding, 155 + Or will you till it ride?" + + "I will not wear the short clothes, + But I will wear the side; + I will not walk to my wedding, + But I to it will ride." 160 + + When he was set upon the horse, + The lady him behind, + Then cauld and eerie were the words + The twa had them between. + + She said, "Good e'en, ye nettles tall, 165 + Just there where ye grow at the dike; + If the auld carline my mother was here, + Sae weel's she would your pates pike. + + "How she would stap you in her poke, + I wot at that she wadna fail; 170 + And boil ye in her auld brass pan, + And of ye mak right gude kail. + + "And she would meal you with millering + That she gathers at the mill, + And mak you thick as any daigh; 175 + And when the pan was brimful, + + "Would mess you up in scuttle dishes, + Syne bid us sup till we were fou; + Lay down her head upon a poke, + Then sleep and snore like any sow." 180 + + "Away! away! you bad woman, + For all your vile words grieveth me; + When ye heed so little for yourself, + I'm sure ye'll heed far less for me. + + "I wish I had drunk your water, sister, 185 + When that I did drink of your wine; + Since for a carle's fair daughter, + It aye gars me dree all this pine." + + "May be I am a carle's daughter, + And may be never nane; 190 + When ye met me in the good green wood, + Why did you not let me alane? + + "Gude e'en, gude e'en, ye heather berries, + As ye're growing on yon hill; + If the auld carle and his bags were here, 195 + I wot he would get meat his fill. + + "Late, late at night I knit our pokes, + With even four-and-twenty knots; + And in the morn at breakfast time, + I'll carry the keys of an earl's locks. 200 + + "Late, late at night I knit our pokes, + With even four-and-twenty strings; + And if you look to my white fingers, + They have as many gay gold rings." + + "Away! away! ye ill woman, 205 + And sore your vile words grieveth me; + When you heed so little for yourself, + I'm sure ye'll heed far less for me. + + "But if you are a carle's daughter, + As I take you to be, 210 + How did you get the gay clothing, + In green wood ye had on thee?" + + "My mother she's a poor woman, + She nursed earl's children three; + And I got them from a foster sister, 215 + For to beguile such sparks as thee." + + "But if you be a carle's daughter, + As I believe you be, + How did ye learn the good Latin, + In green wood ye spoke to me?" 220 + + "My mother she's a mean woman, + She nursed earl's children three; + I learned it from their chapelain, + To beguile such sparks as ye." + + When mass was sung, and bells were rung, 225 + And all men boune for bed, + Then Earl Richard and this ladye + In ane bed they were laid. + + He turned his face to the stock, + And she hers to the stane; 230 + And cauld and dreary was the luve + That was thir twa between. + + Great was the mirth in the kitchen, + Likewise intill the ha'; + But in his bed lay Earl Richard, 235 + Wiping the tears awa'. + + He wept till he fell fast asleep, + Then slept till licht was come; + Then he did hear the gentlemen + That talked in the room: 240 + + Said,--"Saw ye ever a fitter match, + Betwixt the ane and ither; + The King o' Scotland's fair dochter, + And the Queen of England's brither?" + + "And is she the King o' Scotland's fair dochter? 245 + This day, oh, weel is me! + For seven times has my steed been saddled, + To come to court with thee; + And with this witty lady fair, + How happy must I be!" 250 + +75 et seq. This passage has something in common with _Child Waters_ and +_Burd Ellen_. + + + + +THE GAY GOSS-HAWK. + +From _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 151. + + +"This Ballad is published, partly from one under this title, in Mrs. +Brown's collection, and partly from a MS. of some antiquity, _penes_ +Edit. The stanzas appearing to possess most merit have been selected +from each copy."--SCOTT. + +Annexed is another version from Motherwell's collection. A third, longer +than either, is furnished by Buchan, _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, +ii. 245, _The Scottish Squire_. + + "O waly, waly, my gay goss-hawk, + Gin your feathering be sheen!" + "And waly, waly, my master dear, + Gin ye look pale and lean! + + "O have ye tint, at tournament, 5 + Your sword, or yet your spear? + Or mourn ye for the southern lass, + Whom ye may not win near?" + + "I have not tint, at tournament, + My sword nor yet my spear; 10 + But sair I mourn for my true love, + Wi' mony a bitter tear. + + "But weel's me on ye, my gay goss-hawk, + Ye can baith speak and flee; + Ye sall carry a letter to my love, 15 + Bring an answer back to me." + + "But how sall I your true love find, + Or how suld I her know? + I bear a tongue ne'er wi' her spake, + An eye that ne'er her saw." 20 + + "O weel sall ye my true love ken, + Sae sune as ye her see; + For, of a' the flowers of fair England, + The fairest flower is she. + + "The red, that's on my true love's cheek, 25 + Is like blood-drops on the snaw; + The white, that is on her breast bare, + Like the down o' the white sea-maw + + "And even at my love's bouer-door + There grows a flowering birk; 30 + And ye maun sit and sing thereon + As she gangs to the kirk. + + "And four-and-twenty fair ladyes + Will to the mass repair; + But weel may ye my ladye ken, 35 + The fairest ladye there." + + Lord William has written a love-letter, + Put it under his pinion gray; + And he is awa to southern land + As fast as wings can gae. 40 + + And even at the ladye's bour + There grew a flowering birk; + And he sat down and sung thereon + As she gaed to the kirk. + + And weel he kent that ladye fair 45 + Amang her maidens free; + For the flower that springs in May morning + Was not sae sweet as she. + + He lighted at the ladye's yate, + And sat him on a pin; 50 + And sang fu' sweet the notes o' love, + Till a' was cosh within. + + And first he sang a low, low note, + And syne he sang a clear; + And aye the o'erword o' the sang 55 + Was--"Your love can no win here."-- + + "Feast on, feast on, my maidens a', + The wine flows you amang, + While I gang to my shot-window, + And hear yon bonny bird's sang. 60 + + "Sing on, sing on, my bonny bird, + The sang ye sung yestreen; + For weel I ken, by your sweet singing, + Ye are frae my true love sen." + + O first he sang a merry sang, 65 + And syne he sang a grave; + And syne he pick'd his feathers gray, + To her the letter gave. + + "Have there a letter from Lord William; + He says he's sent ye three; 70 + He canna wait your love langer, + But for your sake he'll die."-- + + "Gae bid him bake his bridal bread, + And brew his bridal ale; + And I shall meet him at Mary's kirk, 75 + Lang, lang ere it be stale." + + The lady's gane to her chamber, + And a moanfu' woman was she; + As gin she had ta'en a sudden brash, + And were about to die. 80 + + "A boon, a boon, my father deir, + A boon I beg of thee!"-- + "Ask not that paughty Scottish lord, + For him you ne'er shall see: + + "But, for your honest asking else, 85 + Weel granted it shall be."-- + "Then, gin I die in Southern land, + In Scotland gar bury me. + + "And the first kirk that ye come to, + Ye's gar the mass be sung; 90 + And the next kirk that ye come to, + Ye's gar the bells be rung. + + "And when you come to St. Mary's kirk, + Ye's tarry there till night." + And so her father pledg'd his word, 95 + And so his promise plight. + + She has ta'en her to her bigly bour + As fast as she could fare; + And she has drank a sleepy draught, + That she had mix'd wi' care. 100 + + And pale, pale, grew her rosy cheek, + That was sae bright of blee, + And she seem'd to be as surely dead + As any one could be. + + Then spake her cruel step-minnie, 105 + "Tak ye the burning lead, + And drap a drap on her bosome, + To try if she be dead." + + They took a drap o' boiling lead, + They drapp'd it on her breast; 110 + "Alas! alas!" her father cried, + "She's dead without the priest." + + She neither chatter'd with her teeth, + Nor shiver'd with her chin; + "Alas! alas!" her father cried, 115 + "There is nae breath within." + + Then up arose her seven brethren, + And hew'd to her a bier; + They hew'd it frae the solid aik, + Laid it o'er wi' silver clear. 120 + + Then up and gat her seven sisters, + And sewed to her a kell; + And every steek that they put in + Sewed to a siller bell. + + The first Scots kirk that they cam to, 125 + They garr'd the bells be rung; + The next Scots kirk that they cam to, + They garr'd the mass be sung. + + But when they cam to St. Mary's kirk, + There stude spearmen all on a raw; 130 + And up and started Lord William, + The chieftane amang them a.' + + "Set down, set down the bier," he said, + "Let me look her upon:" + But as soon as Lord William touch'd her hand, + Her colour began to come. 136 + + She brightened like the lily flower, + Till her pale colour was gone; + With rosy cheek, and ruby lip, + She smiled her love upon. 140 + + "A morsel of your bread, my lord, + And one glass of your wine; + For I hae fasted these three lang days, + All for your sake and mine.-- + + "Gae hame, gae hame, my seven bauld brothers, + Gae hame and blaw your horn! 146 + I trow ye wad hae gi'en me the skaith, + But I've gi'en you the scorn. + + "Commend me to my grey father, + That wished my saul gude rest; 150 + But wae be to my cruel step-dame, + Garr'd burn me on the breast."-- + + "Ah! woe to you, you light woman! + An ill death may ye die! + For we left father and sisters at hame 155 + Breaking their hearts for thee." + + +v. 26. This simile resembles a passage in a MS. translation of an Irish +Fairy tale, called _The Adventures of Faravla, Princess of Scotland, and +Carral O'Daly, Son of Donogho More O'Daly, Chief Bard of Ireland_. +"Faravla, as she entered her bower, cast her looks upon the earth, which +was tinged with the blood of a bird which a raven had newly killed: +'Like that snow,' said Faravla, 'was the complexion of my beloved, his +cheeks like the sanguine traces thereon; whilst the raven recalls to my +memory the colour of his beautiful locks.'" There is also some +resemblance in the conduct of the story, betwixt the ballad and the tale +just quoted. The Princess Faravla, being desperately in love with Carral +O'Daly, despatches in search of him a faithful confidante, who, by her +magical art, transforms herself into a hawk, and, perching upon the +windows of the bard, conveys to him information of the distress of the +Princess of Scotland. SCOTT. + + + + +THE JOLLY GOSHAWK. + +Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 353. + + + "O well is me, my jolly goshawk, + That ye can speak and flee; + For ye can carry a love-letter + To my true love from me." + + "O how can I carry a letter to her, 5 + When her I do not know? + I bear the lips to her never spak, + And the eyes that her never saw." + + "The thing of my love's face that's white + Is that of dove or maw; 10 + The thing of my love's face that's red + Is like blood shed on snaw. + + "And when you come to the castel, + Light on the bush of ash; + And sit you there and sing our loves, 15 + As she comes from the mass. + + "And when she gaes into the house, + Sit ye upon the whin; + And sit you there and sing our loves, + As she goes out and in." 20 + + And when he flew to that castel, + He lighted on the ash; + And there he sat and sung their loves, + As she came from the mass. + + And when she went into the house, 25 + He flew unto the whin; + And there he sat and sung their loves, + As she went out and in. + + "Come hitherward, my maidens all, + And sip red wine anon, 30 + Till I go to my west window, + And hear a birdie's moan." + + She's gane unto her west window, + And fainly aye it drew; + And soon into her white silk lap 35 + The bird the letter threw. + + "Ye're bidden send your love a send, + For he has sent you twa; + And tell him where he can see you, + Or he cannot live ava." 40 + + "I send him the rings from my white fingers, + The garlands off my hair; + I send him the heart that's in my breast: + What would my love have mair? + And at the fourth kirk in fair Scotland, 45 + Ye'll bid him meet me there." + + She hied her to her father dear, + As fast as gang could she: + "An asking, an asking, my father dear, + An asking ye grant me,-- 50 + That, if I die in fair England, + In Scotland gar bury me. + + "At the first kirk of fair Scotland, + You cause the bells be rung; + At the second kirk of fair Scotland, 55 + You cause the mass be sung; + + "At the third kirk of fair Scotland, + You deal gold for my sake; + And at the fourth kirk of fair Scotland, + Oh there you'll bury me at! 60 + + "And now, my tender father dear, + This asking grant you me:" + "Your asking is but small," he said, + "Weel granted it shall be." + + [_The lady asks the same boon and receives a similar answer, first + from her mother, then from her sister, and lastly from her seven + brothers._] + + Then down as dead that lady drapp'd, 65 + Beside her mother's knee; + Then out it spak an auld witch wife, + By the fire-side sat she: + + Says,--"Drap the het lead on her cheek, + And drap it on her chin, 70 + And drap it on her rose red lips, + And she will speak again: + For much a lady young will do, + To her true love to win." + + They drapp'd the het lead on her cheek, 75 + So did they on her chin; + They drapp'd it on her red rose lips, + But they breathed none again. + + Her brothers they went to a room, + To make to her a bier; 80 + The boards of it were cedar wood, + And the plates on it gold so clear. + + Her sisters they went to a room, + To make to her a sark; + The cloth of it was satin fine, 85 + And the steeking silken wark. + + "But well is me, my jolly goshawk, + That ye can speak and flee; + Come shew to me any love tokens + That you have brought to me." 90 + + "She sends you the rings from her fingers, + The garlands from her hair; + She sends you the heart within her breast: + And what would you have mair? + And at the fourth kirk of fair Scotland, 95 + She bids you meet her there." + + "Come hither, all my merry young men, + And drink the good red wine; + For we must on to fair England, + To free my love from pine." 100 + + At the first kirk of fair Scotland, + They gart the bells be rung; + At the second kirk of fair Scotland, + They gart the mass be sung. + + At the third kirk of fair Scotland, 105 + They dealt gold for her sake; + And the fourth kirk of fair Scotland + Her true love met them at. + + "Set down, set down the corpse," he said, + "Till I look on the dead; 110 + The last time that I saw her face, + She ruddy was and red; + But now, alas, and woe is me! + She's wallowed like a weed." + + He rent the sheet upon her face, 115 + A little aboon her chin; + With lily white cheek, and lemin' eyne, + She lookt and laugh'd to him. + + "Give me a chive of your bread, my love, + A bottle of your wine; 120 + For I have fasted for your love, + These weary lang days nine; + There's not a steed in your stable, + But would have been dead ere syne. + + "Gae hame, gae hame, my seven brothers, 125 + Gae hame and blaw the horn; + For you can say in the South of England, + Your sister gave you a scorn. + + "I came not here to fair Scotland, + To lye amang the meal; 130 + But I came here to fair Scotland, + To wear the silks so weel. + + "I came not here to fair Scotland, + To lye amang the dead; + But I came here to fair Scotland, 135 + To wear the gold so red." + + + + +APPENDIX. + + + + +YOUNG HUNTING. See p. 3. + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 118. + + + Lady Maisry forth from her bower came, + And stood on her tower head; + She thought she heard a bridle ring, + The sound did her heart guid. + + She thought it was her first true love, 5 + Whom she loved ance in time; + But it was her new love, Hunting, + Come frae the hunting o' the hyn'. + + "Gude morrow, gude morrow, Lady Maisry, + God make you safe and free! 10 + I'm come to take my last farewell, + And pay my last visit to thee." + + "O stay, O stay then, young Hunting, + O stay with me this night; + Ye shall ha'e cheer, an' charcoal clear, 15 + And candles burning bright." + + "Have no more cheer, you lady fair, + An hour langer for me; + I have a lady in Garmouth town + I love better than thee." 20 + + "O if your love be changed, my love, + Since better canno' be, + Nevertheless, for auld lang syne, + Ye'll stay this night wi' me. + + "Silver, silver shall be your wage, 25 + And gowd shall be your fee; + And nine times nine into the year, + Your weed shall changed be. + + "Will ye gae to the cards or dice, + Or to a tavern fine? 30 + Or will ye gae to a table forebye, + And birl baith beer and wine?" + + "I winna gang to the cards nor dice, + Nor to a tavern fine; + But I will gang to a table forebye, 35 + And birl baith beer and wine." + + Then she has drawn for young Hunting + The beer but and the wine, + Till she got him as deadly drunk + As ony unhallowed swine. 40 + + Then she's ta'en out a trusty brand, + That hang below her gare; + Then she's wounded him, young Hunting, + A deep wound and a sair. + + Then out it speaks her comrade, 45 + Being in the companie: + "Alas! this deed that ye ha'e done, + Will ruin baith you and me." + + "Heal well, heal well, you Lady Katharine, + Heal well this deed on me; 50 + The robes that were shapen for my bodie, + They shall be sewed for thee." + + "Tho' I wou'd heal it never sae well, + And never sae well," said she, + "There is a God above us baith, 55 + That can baith hear and see." + + They booted him and spurred him, + As he'd been gaun to ride; + A hunting-horn about his neck, + A sharp sword by his side. 60 + + And they rode on, and farther on, + All the lang summer's tide, + Until they came to wan water, + Where a' man ca's it Clyde. + + The deepest pot in Clyde's water,[L65] 65 + There they flang him in,[L66] + And put a turf on his breast bane, + To had young Hunting down. + + O out it speaks a little wee bird, + As she sat on the brier: 70 + "Gae hame, gae hame, ye Lady Maisry, + And pay your maiden's hire." + + "O I will pay my maiden's hire, + And hire I'll gi'e to thee; + If ye'll conceal this fatal deed, 75 + Ye's ha'e gowd for your fee." + + Then out it speaks a bonny bird, + That flew aboon their head; + "Keep well, keep well your green claithing + Frae ae drap o' his bluid." 80 + + "O I'll keep well my green claithing + Frae ae drap o' his bluid, + Better than I'll do your flattering tongue, + That flutters in your head. + + "Come down, come down, my bonny bird, 85 + Light down upon my hand; + For ae gowd feather that's in your wing, + I wou'd gi'e a' my land." + + "How shall I come down, how can I come down, + How shall I come down to thee? 90 + The things ye said to young Hunting, + The same ye're saying to me." + + But it fell out on that same day, + The king was going to ride, + And he call'd for him, young Hunting, 95 + For to ride by his side. + + Then out it speaks the little young son, + Sat on the nurse's knee, + "It fears me sair," said that young babe, + "He's in bower wi' yon ladie." 100 + + Then they ha'e call'd her, Lady Katharine, + And she sware by the thorn, + That she saw not him, young Hunting, + Sin' yesterday at morn. + + Then they ha'e call'd her, Lady Maisry, 105 + And she sware by the moon, + That she saw not him, young Hunting, + Sin' yesterday at noon. + + "He was playing him at the Clyde's water, + Perhaps he has fa'en in:" 110 + The king he call'd his divers all, + To dive for his young son. + + They div'd in thro' the wan burn-bank, + Sae did they out thro' the other: + "We'll dive nae mair," said these young men, 115 + "Suppose he were our brother." + + Then out it spake a little bird, + That flew aboon their head: + "Dive on, dive on, ye divers all, + For there he lies indeed. 120 + + "But ye'll leave aff your day diving, + And ye'll dive in the night; + The pot where young Hunting lies in, + The candles they'll burn bright. + + "There are twa ladies in yon bower, 125 + And even in yon ha', + And they ha'e kill'd him, young Hunting, + And casten him awa'. + + "They booted him and spurred him, + As he'd been gaun to ride; 130 + A hunting horn tied round his neck, + A sharp sword by his side. + + "The deepest pot o' Clyde's water, + There they flang him in, + Laid a turf on his breast bane, 135 + To had young Hunting down." + + Now they left aff their day diving, + And they dived on the night; + The pot that young Hunting lay in, + The candles were burning bright. 140 + + The king he call'd his hewers all, + To hew down wood and thorn, + For to put up a strong bale-fire, + These ladies for to burn. + + And they ha'e ta'en her, Lady Katharine, 145 + And they ha'e pitten her in; + But it wadna light upon her cheek, + Nor wou'd it on her chin, + But sang the points o' her yellow hair, + For healing the deadly sin. 150 + + Then they ha'e ta'en her, Lady Maisry, + And they ha'e put her in: + First it lighted on her cheek, + And syne upon her chin, + And sang the points o' her yellow hair, 155 + And she burnt like keckle-pin. + +65, And the. + +66, And there. See 133, 134. + + + + +YOUNG WATERS.--See p. 88. + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. p. 15. + + + It fell about the gude Yule time, + When caps and stoups gaed roun', + Down it came him young Waters, + To welcome James, our king. + + The great, the great, rade a' together, 5 + The sma' came a' behin'; + But wi' young Waters, that brave knight, + There came a gay gatherin'. + + The horse young Waters rade upon, + It cost him hunders nine; 10 + For he was siller shod before, + And gowd graith had behin'. + + At ilka tippit o' his horse mane + There hang a siller bell; + The wind was loud, the steed was proud, 15 + And they gae a sindry knell. + + The king he lay ower's castle wa', + Beheld baith dale and down; + And he beheld him, young Waters, + Come riding to the town. 20 + + He turn'd him right and round about, + And to the queen said he,-- + "Who is the bravest man, my dame, + That ever your een did see?" + + "I've seen lairds, and I've seen lords, 25 + And knights o' high degree; + But a braver man than young Waters + My e'en did never see." + + He turn'd him right and roun' about, + And ane angry man was he; 30 + "O wae to you, my dame, the queen; + Ye might ha'e excepted me!" + + "Ye are nae laird, ye are nae lord, + Ye are the king that wears the crown; + There's nae a lord in fair Scotland, 35 + But unto you maun a' bow down." + + "O lady, for your love choicing, + Ye shall win to your will; + The morn, or I eat or drink, + Young Waters I'll gar kill." 40 + + And nevertheless, the king cou'd say, + "Ye might ha'e excepted me; + Yea for yea," the king cou'd say, + "Young Waters he shall die. + + "Likewise for your ill-wyled words 45 + Ye sall ha'e cause to mourn; + Gin ye hadna been sae big wi' child, + Ye on a hill su'd burn." + + Young Waters came before the King, + Fell low down on his knee; 50 + "Win up, win up, young Waters, + What's this I hear o' thee?" + + "What ails the king at me," he said, + "What ails the king at me?" + "It is tauld me the day, sir knight, 55 + Ye've done me treasonie." + + "Liars will lie on sell gude men, + Sae will they do on me; + I wudna wish to be the man + That liars on wudna lie." 60 + + Nevertheless, the king cou'd say, + "In prison strang gang ye; + O yea for yea," the king cou'd say, + "Young Waters, ye shall die." + + Syne they ha'e ta'en him, young Waters, 65 + Laid him in prison strang, + And left him there wi' fetters boun', + Making a heavy mane. + + "Aft ha'e I ridden thro' Striveling town + Thro' heavy wind and weet; 70 + But ne'er rade I thro' Striveling town + Wi' fetters on my feet. + + "Aft ha'e I ridden thro' Striveling town, + Thro' heavy wind and rain; + But ne'er rade I thro' Striveling town 75 + But thought to ridden't again." + + They brought him to the heading-hill, + His horse, bot and his saddle; + And they brought to the heading-hill + His young son in his cradle. 80 + + And they brought to the heading-hill, + His hounds intill a leish; + And they brought till the heading-hill, + His gos-hawk in a jess. + + King James he then rade up the hill, 85 + And mony a man him wi', + And called on his trusty page, + To come right speedilie. + + "Ye'll do' ye to the Earl o' Mar, + For he sits on yon hill; 90 + Bid him loose the brand frae his bodie, + Young Waters for to kill." + + "O gude forbid," the Earl he said, + "The like su'd e'er fa' me, + My bodie e'er su'd wear the brand 95 + That gars young Waters die." + + Then he has loos'd his trusty brand, + And casten't in the sea; + Says, "Never lat them get a brand, + Till it come back to me." 100 + + The scaffold it prepared was, + And he did mount it hie; + And a' spectators that were there, + The saut tears blint their e'e. + + "O had your tongues, my brethren dear, 105 + And mourn nae mair for me; + Ye're seeking grace frae a graceless face, + For there is nane to gie. + + "Ye'll tak' a bit o' canvas claith, + And pit it ower my ee; 110 + And Jack, my man, ye'll be at hand, + The hour that I su'd die. + + "Syne aff ye'll tak' my bluidy sark, + Gie it fair Margaret Grahame; + For she may curse the dowie dell 115 + That brought King James him hame. + + "Ye'll bid her mak' her bed narrow, + And mak' it naeways wide; + For a brawer man than young Waters + Will ne'er streek by her side. 120 + + "Bid her do weel to my young son, + And gie him nurses three; + For gin he live to be a man, + King James will gar him die." + + He call'd upon the headsman then, 125 + A purse o' gowd him gae; + Says, "Do your office, headsman, boy, + And mak' nae mair delay." + + "O head me soon, O head me clean, + And pit me out o' pine; 130 + For it is by the king's command; + Gang head me till his min'. + + "Tho' by him I'm condemn'd to die, + I'm lieve to his ain kin; + And for the truth, I'll plainly tell, 135 + I am his sister's son." + + "Gin ye're my sister's son," he said, + "It is unkent to me." + "O mindna ye on your sister Bess, + That lives in the French countrie?" 140 + + "Gin Bess then be your mither dear, + As I trust well she be, + Gae hame, gae hame, young Waters, + Ye'se ne'er be slain by me." + + But he lay by his napkin fine, 145 + Was saft as ony silk, + And on the block he laid his neck, + Was whiter than the milk. + + Says, "Strike the blow, ye headsman, boy, + And that right speedilie; 150 + It's never be said here gaes a knight, + Was ance condemn'd to die." + + The head was ta'en frae young Waters, + And mony tears for him shed; + But mair did mourn for fair Margaret, 155 + As raving she lyes mad. + + + + +LAMMIKIN. See p. 94. + +Finlay's _Scottish Ballads_, ii. 47. + + + Lammikin was as gude a mason + As ever hewed a stane; + He biggit Lord Weire's castle, + But payment gat he nane. + + "Sen ye winna gie me my guerdon, lord, 5 + Sen ye winna gie me my hire, + This gude castle, sae stately built, + I sall gar rock wi' fire. + + "Sen ye winna gie me my wages, lord, + Ye sall hae cause to rue:" 10 + And syne he brewed a black revenge, + And syne he vowed a vow. + + The Lammikin sair wroth, sair wroth, + Returned again to Downe; + But or he gaed, he vow'd and vow'd, 15 + The castle should sweep the ground. + + "O byde at hame, my gude Lord Weire, + I weird ye byde at hame; + Gang na to this day's hunting, + To leave me a' alane. 20 + + "Yae night, yae night, I dreamt this bower + O red, red blude was fu'; + Gin ye gang to this black hunting, + I sall hae cause to rue." + + "Wha looks to dreams, my winsome dame? 25 + Nae cause hae ye to fear:" + And syne he kindly kissed her cheek, + And syne the starting tear. + + Now to the gude green-wood he's gane, + She to her painted bower; 30 + But first she closed the windows and doors + Of the castle, ha', and tower. + + They steeked doors, they steeked yetts, + Close to the cheek and chin; + They steeked them a' but a wee wicket, 35 + And Lammikin crap in. + + "Where are the lads o' this castle?" + Says the Lammikin; + "They are a' wi Lord Weire, hunting," + The false nourice did sing. 40 + + "Where are the lasses o' this castle?" + Says the Lammikin; + "They are a' out at the washing," + The false nourice did sing. + + "But where's the lady o' this castle?" 45 + Says the Lammikin; + "She is in her bower sewing," + The false nourice did sing. + + "Is this the bairn o' this house?" + Says the Lammikin; 50 + "The only bairn Lord Weire aughts," + The false nourice did sing. + + Lammikin nipped the bonnie babe, + While loud false nourice sings; + Lammikin nipped the bonnie babe, 55 + Till high the red blude springs. + + "Still my bairn, nourice, + O still him if ye can:" + "He will not still, madam, + For a' his father's lan'." 60 + + "O gentle nourice, still my bairn, + O still him wi' the keys:" + "He will not still, fair lady, + Let me do what I please." + + "O still my bairn, kind nourice, 65 + O still him wi' the ring:" + "He will not still, my lady, + Let me do any thing." + + "O still my bairn, gude nourice, + O still him wi' the knife:" 70 + "He will not still, dear mistress mine, + Gin I'd lay down my life." + + "Sweet nourice, loud, loud cries my bairn, + O still him wi' the bell:" + "He will not still, dear lady, 75 + Till ye cum down yoursell." + + The first step she stepped, + She stepped on a stane, + The next step she stepped, + She met the Lammikin. 80 + + And when she saw the red, red blude, + A loud skriech skrieched she: + "O monster, monster, spare my child, + Who never skaithed thee! + + "O spare, if in your bluidy breast 85 + Abides not heart of stane! + O spare, an' ye sall hae o' gold + That ye can carry hame!" + + "I carena for your gold," he said, + "I carena for your fee: 90 + I hae been wranged by your lord, + Black vengeance ye sall drie. + + "Here are nae serfs to guard your haa's, + Nae trusty spearmen here; + In yon green wood they sound the horn, 95 + And chace the doe and deer. + + "Tho merry sounds the gude green wood + Wi' huntsmen, hounds, and horn, + Your lord sall rue ere sets yon sun + He has done me skaith and scorn." 100 + + "O nourice, wanted ye your meat, + Or wanted ye your fee, + Or wanted ye for any thing, + A fair lady could gie?" + + "I wanted for nae meat, ladie, 105 + I wanted for nae fee; + But I wanted for a hantle + A fair lady could gie." + + Then Lammikin drew his red, red sword, + And sharped it on a stane, 110 + And through and through this fair ladie, + The cauld, cauld steel is gane. + + Nor lang was't after this foul deed, + Till Lord Weire cumin' hame, + Thocht he saw his sweet bairn's bluid 115 + Sprinkled on a stane. + + "I wish a' may be weel," he says, + "Wi' my ladie at hame; + For the rings upon my fingers + Are bursting in twain." 120 + + But mair he look'd, and dule saw he, + On the door at the trance, + Spots o' his dear ladys bluid + Shining like a lance. + + "There's bluid in my nursery, 125 + There's bluid in my ha', + There's bluid in my fair lady's bower, + An' that's warst of a'." + + O sweet, sweet sang the birdie, + Upon the bough sae hie, 130 + But little cared false nourice for that, + For it was her gallows tree. + + Then out he set, and his braw men + Rode a' the country roun'; + Ere lang they faud the Lammikin 135 + Had sheltered near to Downe. + + They carried him a' airts o' wind, + And mickle pain had he, + At last before Lord Weire's gate + They hanged him on the tree. 140 + + + + +LONG LONKIN. See p. 94. + +From Richardson's _Borderer's Table-Book_, viii. 410. + + + The lord said to his ladie, + As he mounted his horse, + "Beware of Long Lonkin + That lies in the moss." + + The lord said to his ladie, 5 + As he rode away, + "Beware of Long Lonkin + That lies in the clay." + + "What care I for Lonkin, + Or any of his gang? 10 + My doors are all shut + And my windows penned in." + + There are six little windows, + And they were all shut, + But one little window, 15 + And that was forgot. + + * * * * * * + * * * * * * + And at that little window + Long Lonkin crept in. + + "Where's the lord of the hall?" + Says the Lonkin; 20 + "He's gone up to London," + Says Orange to him. + + "Where's the men of the hall?" + Says the Lonkin; + "They're at the field ploughing," 25 + Says Orange to him. + + "Where's the maids of the hall?" + Says the Lonkin; + "They're at the well washing," + Says Orange to him. 30 + + "Where's the ladies of the hall?" + Says the Lonkin; + "They're up in their chambers," + Says Orange to him. + + "How shall we get them down?" 35 + Says the Lonkin; + "Prick the babe in the cradle," + Says Orange to him. + + "Rock well my cradle, + And bee-ba my son; 40 + Ye shall have a new gown + When the lord he comes home." + + Still she did prick it, + And bee-ba she cried; + "Come down, dearest mistress, 45 + And still your own child." + + "O still my child, Orange, + Still him with a bell;" + "I can't still him, ladie, + Till you come down yoursell." 50 + + * * * * * * + + "Hold the gold basin, + For your heart's blood to run in," + + * * * * * * + * * * * * * + "To hold the gold basin, + It grieves me full sore; + Oh kill me, dear Lonkin, 55 + And let my mother go." + + * * * * * * + + + + +THE LAIRD OF WARISTOUN. See p. 107. + + +"John Kincaid, Laird of Waristoun, (an estate situated between the city +of Edinburgh and the sea, towards Leith,) was murdered, on the 2d of +July, 1600, by a man named Robert Weir, who was employed to do so by his +wife, Jean Livingstone, daughter of the Laird of Dunipace. The +unfortunate woman, who thus became implicated in a crime so revolting to +humanity, was only twenty-one years of age at the time. It is probable +from some circumstances, that her husband was considerably older than +herself, and also that their marriage was any thing but one of love. It +is only alleged, however, that she was instigated to seek his death by +resentment for some bad treatment on his part, and, in particular, for a +bite which he had inflicted on her arm. There was something +extraordinary in the deliberation with which this wretched woman +approached the awful gulf of crime. Having resolved on the means to be +employed in the murder, she sent for a quondam servant of her father, +Robert Weir, who lived in the neighbouring city. He came to the place of +Waristoun, to see her; but, for some unexplained reason was not +admitted. She again sent for him, and he again went. Again he was not +admitted. At length, on his being called a third time, he was +introduced to her presence. Before this time she had found an accomplice +in the nurse of her child. It was then arranged, that Weir should be +concealed in a cellar till the dead of night, when he should come forth +and proceed to destroy the laird as he lay in his chamber. The bloody +tragedy was acted precisely in accordance with this plan. Weir was +brought up, at midnight, from the cellar to the hall by the lady +herself, and afterwards went forward alone to the laird's bedroom. As he +proceeded to his bloody work, she retired to her bed, to wait the +intelligence of her husband's murder. When Weir entered the chamber, +Waristoun awoke with the noise, and leant inquiringly over the side of +the bed. The murderer then leapt upon him; the unhappy man uttered a +great cry; Weir gave him several dreadful blows on vital parts, +particularly one on the flank vein. But as the laird was still able to +cry out, he at length saw fit to take more effective measures: he seized +him by the throat with both hands, and compressing that part with all +his force, succeeded, after a few minutes, in depriving him of life. +When the lady heard her husband's first death-shout, she leapt out of +bed, in an agony of mingled horror and repentance, and descended to the +hall: but she made no effort to countermand her mission of destruction. +She waited patiently till Weir came down to inform her that all was +over. + +"Weir made an immediate escape from justice; but Lady Waristoun and the +nurse were apprehended before the deed was half a day old. Being caught, +as the Scottish law terms it, _red-hand_,--that is, while still bearing +unequivocal marks of guilt, they were immediately tried by the +magistrates of Edinburgh, and sentenced to be strangled and burnt at a +stake. The lady's father, the Laird of Dunipace, was a favourite of King +James VI., and he made all the interest he could with his majesty to +procure a pardon; but all that could be obtained from the king, was an +order that the unhappy lady should be executed by decapitation, and that +at such an early hour in the morning as to make the affair as little of +a spectacle as possible. + +"The space intervening between her sentence and her execution was only +thirty-seven hours; yet, in that little time, Lady Waristoun contrived +to become converted from a blood-stained and unrelenting murderess into +a perfect saint on earth. One of the then ministers of Edinburgh has +left an account of her conversion, which was lately published, and would +be extremely amusing, were it not for the disgust which seizes the mind +on beholding such an instance of perverted religion. She went to the +scaffold with a demeanour which would have graced a martyr. Her lips +were incessant in the utterance of pious exclamations. She professed +herself confident of everlasting happiness. She even grudged every +moment which she spent in this world, as so much taken from that sum of +eternal felicity which she was to enjoy in the next. The people who came +to witness the last scene, instead of having their minds inspired with +salutary horror for her crime, were engrossed in admiration of her +saintly behaviour, and greedily gathered up every devout word which fell +from her tongue. It would almost appear from the narrative of the +clergyman, that her fate was rather a matter of envy than of any other +feeling. Her execution took place at four in the morning of the 5th of +July, at the Watergate, near Holyroodhouse; and at the same hour her +nurse was burnt on the castle-hill. It is some gratification to know, +that the actual murderer, Weir, was eventually seized and executed, +though not till four years after." + + CHAMBERS'S _Scottish Ballads_, p. 129. + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 56. + + My mother was an ill woman, + In fifteen years she married me; + I hadna wit to guide a man, + Alas! ill counsel guided me. + + O Warriston, O Warriston, 5 + I wish that ye may sink for sin; + I was but bare fifteen years auld, + Whan first I enter'd your yates within. + + I hadna been a month married, + Till my gude lord went to the sea; 10 + I bare a bairn ere he came hame, + And set it on the nourice knee. + + But it fell ance upon a day, + That my gude lord return'd from sea; + Then I did dress in the best array, 15 + As blythe as ony bird on tree. + + I took my young son in my arms, + Likewise my nourice me forebye, + And I went down to yon shore side, + My gude lord's vessel I might spy. 20 + + My lord he stood upon the deck, + I wyte he hail'd me courteouslie; + "Ye are thrice welcome, my lady gay, + Whase aught that bairn on your knee?" + + She turn'd her right and round about, 25 + Says, "Why take ye sic dreads o' me? + Alas! I was too young married, + To love another man but thee." + + "Now hold your tongue, my lady gay, + Nae mair falsehoods ye'll tell to me; 30 + This bonny bairn is not mine, + You've loved another while I was on sea." + + In discontent then hame she went, + And aye the tear did blin' her e'e; + Says, "Of this wretch I'll be revenged, 35 + For these harsh words he's said to me." + + She's counsell'd wi' her father's steward, + What way she cou'd revenged be; + Bad was the counsel then he gave,-- + It was to gar her gude lord dee. 40 + + The nourice took the deed in hand, + I wat she was well paid her fee; + She kiest the knot, and the loop she ran, + Which soon did gar this young lord dee. + + His brother lay in a room hard by, 45 + Alas! that night he slept too soun'; + But then he waken'd wi a cry, + "I fear my brother's putten down. + + "O get me coal and candle light, + And get me some gude companie;" 50 + But before the light was brought, + Warriston he was gart dee. + + They've ta'en the lady and fause nourice, + In prison strong they ha'e them boun'; + The nourice she was hard o' heart, 55 + But the bonny lady fell in swoon. + + In it came her brother dear, + And aye a sorry man was he; + "I wou'd gie a' the lands I heir, + O bonny Jean, to borrow thee." 60 + + "O borrow me brother, borrow me,-- + O borrow'd shall I never be; + For I gart kill my ain gude lord, + And life is nae pleasure to me." + + In it came her mother dear, 65 + I wyte a sorry woman was she; + "I wou'd gie my white monie and gowd, + O bonny Jean, to borrow thee." + + "Borrow me mother, borrow me,-- + O borrow'd shall I never be; 70 + For I gart kill my ain gude lord, + And life's now nae pleasure to me." + + Then in it came her father dear, + I wyte a sorry man was he; + Says, "Ohon, alas! my bonny Jean, 75 + If I had you at hame wi' me. + + "Seven daughters I ha'e left at hame, + As fair women as fair can be; + But I wou'd gi'e them ane by ane, + O bonny Jean, to borrow thee." 80 + + "O borrow me father, borrow me,-- + O borrow'd shall I never be; + I that is worthy o' the death, + It is but right that I shou'd dee." + + Then out it speaks the king himsell, 85 + And aye as he steps in the fleer; + Says, "I grant you your life, lady, + Because you are of tender year." + + "A boon, a boon, my liege the king, + The boon I ask, ye'll grant to me:" 90 + "Ask on, ask on, my bonny Jean, + Whate'er ye ask it's granted be." + + "Cause take me out at night, at night, + Lat not the sun upon me shine; + And take me to yon heading hill, 95 + Strike aff this dowie head o' mine. + + "Ye'll take me out at night, at night, + When there are nane to gaze and see; + And ha'e me to yon heading hill, + And ye'll gar head me speedilie." 100 + + They've ta'en her out at nine at night, + Loot not the sun upon her shine; + And had her to yon heading hill, + And headed her baith neat and fine. + + Then out it speaks the king himsell, 105 + I wyte a sorry man was he; + "I've travell'd east, I've travell'd west, + And sailed far beyond the sea, + But I never saw a woman's face + I was sae sorry to see dee. 110 + + "But Warriston was sair to blame, + For slighting o' his lady so; + He had the wyte o' his ain death, + And bonny lady's overthrow." + + + + +MARY HAMILTON. See p. 113. + +A "North Country" version from Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. +252. The Editor furnishes the two following stanzas of another copy:-- + + + My father is the Duke of Argyle, + My mother's a lady gay, + And I mysel am a daintie dame, + And the king desired me. + + He shaw'd me up, he shaw'd me doun, + He shaw'd me to the ha', + He shaw'd me to the low cellars, + And that was warst of a'. + +In one of Motherwell's copies, and in Buchan's, the heroine calls +herself daughter of the Duke of York. + + "Whan I was a babe, and a very little babe, + And stood at my mither's knee, + Nae witch nor warlock did unfauld + The death I was to dree. + + "But my mither was a proud woman, 5 + A proud woman and a bauld; + And she hired me to Queen Mary's bouer + When scarce eleven years auld. + + "O happy, happy, is the maid, + That's born of beauty free! 10 + It was my dimpling rosy cheeks + That's been the dule o' me; + And wae be to that weirdless wicht, + And a' his witcherie." + + Word's gane up and word's gane doun, 15 + And word's gane to the ha', + That Mary Hamilton was wi' bairn, + And na body ken'd to wha. + + But in and cam the Queen hersel, + Wi' gowd plait on her hair;-- 20 + Says, "Mary Hamilton, whare is the babe + That I heard greet sae sair?" + + "There is na babe within my bouer, + And I hope there ne'er will be; + But it's me wi' a sair and sick colic, 25 + And I'm just like to dee." + + But they looked up, they looked down, + Atween the bowsters and the wa', + It's there they got a bonnie lad-bairn, + But it's life it was awa'. 30 + + "Rise up, rise up, Mary Hamilton, + Rise up, and dress ye fine, + For you maun gang to Edinbruch, + And stand afore the nine.[L34] + + "Ye'll no put on the dowie black, 35 + Nor yet the dowie brown; + But ye'll put on the robes o' red, + To sheen thro' Edinbruch town." + + "I'll no put on the dowie black, + Nor yet the dowie brown; 40 + But I'll put on the robes o' red, + To sheen thro' Edinbruch town." + + As they gaed thro' Edinbruch town, + And down by the Nether-bow, + There war monie a lady fair 45 + Siching and crying, "Och how!" + + "O weep na mair for me, ladies, + Weep na mair for me; + Yestreen I killed my ain bairn, + The day I deserve to dee. 50 + + "What need ye hech! and how! ladies, + What need ye how! for me; + Ye never saw grace at a graceless face,-- + Queen Mary has nane to gie." + + "Gae forward, gae forward," the Queen she said, + "Gae forward, that ye may see; 55 + For the very same words that ye hae said, + Sall hang ye on the gallows tree." + + As she gaed up the Tolbooth stairs, + She gied loud lauchters three; 60 + But or ever she cam down again, + She was condemn'd to dee. + + "O tak example frae me, Maries, + O tak example frae me, + Nor gie your luve to courtly lords, 65 + Nor heed their witchin' ee. + + "But wae be to the Queen hersel, + She micht hae pardon'd me; + But sair she's striven for me to hang + Upon the gallows tree. 70 + + "Yestreen the Queen had four Maries, + The nicht she'll hae but three; + There was Mary Beatoun, Mary Seaton, + And Mary Carmichael, and me. + + "Aft hae I set pearls in her hair, 75 + Aft hae I lac'd her gown, + And this is the reward I now get, + To be hang'd in Edinbruch town! + + "O a' ye mariners, far and near, + That sail ayont the faem, 80 + O dinna let my father and mither ken, + But what I am coming hame. + + "O a' ye mariners, far and near, + That sail ayont the sea, + Let na my father and mither ken, 85 + The death I am to dee. + + "Sae, weep na mair for me, ladies, + Weep na mair for me, + The mither that kills her ain bairn, + Deserves weel for to dee." 90 + + * * * * * * * * + +34. Anciently the supreme criminal court of Scotland was composed of +nine members, viz. the Justiciar, or Justice General, and his eight +Deputes. KINLOCH. + + + + +MARY HAMILTON. See p 113. + +Maidment's _North Countrie Garland_, p. 19. + + + Then down cam Queen Marie + Wi' gold links in her hair, + Saying, "Marie mild, where is the child, + That I heard greet sair sair?" + + "There was nae child wi' me, madam, 5 + There was nae child wi' me; + It was but me in a sair cholic, + When I was like to die." + + "I'm not deceived," Queen Marie said, + "No, no, indeed, not I! 10 + So Marie mild, where is the child? + For sure I heard it cry." + + She turned down the blankets fine, + Likewise the Holland sheet, + And underneath, there strangled lay 15 + A lovely baby sweet. + + "O cruel mother," said the Queen, + "Some fiend possessed thee; + But I will hang thee for this deed, + My Marie tho' thou be!" 20 + + * * * * * * + + When she cam to the Nether-Bow Port, + She laugh't loud laughters three; + But when she cam to the gallows foot, + The saut tear blinded her ee. + + "Yestreen the Queen had four Maries, 25 + The night she'll hae but three; + There was Marie Seton, and Marie Beaton, + And Marie Carmichael and me. + + "Ye mariners, ye mariners, + That sail upon the sea, 30 + Let not my father or mother wit + The death that I maun die. + + "I was my parents' only hope, + They ne'er had ane but me; + They little thought when I left hame, 35 + They should nae mair me see!" + + + + +SIR HUGH, OR THE JEW'S DAUGHTER. + +See p. 136. + +From Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 51; taken down from recitation. + + + Yesterday was brave Hallowday, + And, above all days of the year, + The schoolboys all got leave to play, + And little Sir Hugh was there. + + He kicked the ball with his foot, 5 + And kepped it with his knee, + And even in at the Jew's window + He gart the bonnie ba' flee. + + Out then came the Jew's daughter,-- + "Will ye come in and dine?" 10 + "I winna come in and I canna come in + Till I get that ball of mine. + + "Throw down that ball to me, maiden, + Throw down the ball to me." + "I winna throw down your ball, Sir Hugh, 15 + Till ye come up to me." + + She pu'd the apple frae the tree, + It was baith red and green, + She gave it unto little Sir Hugh, + With that his heart did win. 20 + + She wiled him into ae chamber, + She wiled him into twa, + She wiled him into the third chamber, + And that was warst o't a'. + + She took out a little penknife, 25 + Hung low down by her spare, + She twined this young thing o' his life, + And a word he ne'er spak mair. + + And first came out the thick, thick blood, + And syne came out the thin, 30 + And syne came out the bonnie heart's blood,-- + There was nae mair within. + + She laid him on a dressing table, + She dress'd him like a swine, + Says, "Lie ye there, my bonnie Sir Hugh, 35 + Wi' ye're apples red and green!" + + She put him in a case of lead, + Says, "Lie ye there and sleep!" + She threw him into the deep draw-well + Was fifty fathom deep. 40 + + A schoolboy walking in the garden + Did grievously hear him moan, + He ran away to the deep draw-well + And fell down on his knee. + + Says, "Bonnie Sir Hugh, and pretty Sir Hugh, 45 + I pray you speak to me; + If you speak to any body in this world, + I pray you speak to me." + + When bells were rung and mass was sung, + And every body went hame, 50 + Then every lady had her son, + But Lady Helen had nane. + + She rolled her mantle her about, + And sore, sore did she weep; + She ran away to the Jew's castle, 55 + When all were fast asleep. + + She cries, "Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh, + I pray you speak to me; + If you speak to any body in this world, + I pray you speak to me." 60 + + "Lady Helen, if ye want your son, + I'll tell ye where to seek; + Lady Helen, if ye want your son, + He's in the well sae deep." + + She ran away to the deep draw-well, 65 + And she fell down on her knee; + Saying, "Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh, + I pray ye speak to me; + If ye speak to any body in the world, + I pray ye speak to me." 70 + + "Oh! the lead it is wondrous heavy, mother, + The well it is wondrous deep; + The little penknife sticks in my throat, + And I downa to ye speak. + + But lift me out o' this deep draw-well, 75 + And bury me in yon churchyard; + "Put a Bible at my head," he says, + "And a testament at my feet, + And pen and ink at every side, + And I'll lie still and sleep. 80 + + "And go to the back of Maitland town, + Bring me my winding sheet; + For it's at the back of Maitland town + That you and I shall meet." + + O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom, 85 + The broom that makes full sore, + A woman's mercy is very little, + But a man's mercy is more. + + + + +SIR HUGH. See p. 136. + +From Hume's _Sir Hugh of Lincoln_, p. 35; obtained from recitation, in +Ireland. + + + 'Twas on a summer's morning, + Some scholars were playing at ball; + When out came the Jew's daughter + And lean'd her back against the wall. + + She said unto the fairest boy, 5 + "Come here to me, Sir Hugh." + "No! I will not," said he, + "Without my playfellows too." + + She took an apple out of her pocket, + And trundled it along the plain; 10 + And who was readiest to lift it, + Was little Sir Hugh, again. + + She took him by the milk-white han', + An' led him through many a hall, + Until they came to one stone chamber, 15 + Where no man might hear his call. + + She sat him in a goolden chair, + And jagg'd him with a pin; + And called for a goolden cup + To houl' his heart's blood in. 20 + + She tuk him by the yellow hair, + An' also by the feet; + An' she threw him in the deep draw well, + It was fifty fadom deep. + + Day bein' over, the night came on, 25 + And the scholars all went home; + Then every mother had her son, + But little Sir Hugh's had none. + + She put her mantle about her head, + Tuk a little rod in her han', 30 + An' she says, "Sir Hugh, if I fin' you here, + I will bate you for stayin' so long." + + First she went to the Jew's door, + But they were fast asleep; + An' then she went to the deep draw-well, 35 + That was fifty fadom deep. + + She says, "Sir Hugh, if you be here, + As I suppose you be, + If ever the dead or quick arose, + Arise and spake to me." 40 + + Yes, mother dear, I am here, + I know I have staid very long; + But a little penknife was stuck in my heart, + Till the stream ran down full strong. + + And mother dear, when you go home, 45 + Tell my playfellows all, + That I lost my life by leaving them + When playing that game of ball. + + And ere another day is gone, + My winding-sheet prepare, 50 + And bury me in the green churchyard + Where the flowers are bloomin' fair. + + Lay my Bible at my head, + My testament at my feet; + The earth and worms shall be my bed, 55 + Till Christ and I shall meet. + + + + +SIR PATRICK SPENS. See p. 147. + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 1. + + + The King sits in Dunfermline town, + A-drinking at the wine; + Says, "Where will I get a good skipper + Will sail the saut seas fine?" + + Out it speaks an eldren knight 5 + Amang the companie,-- + "Young Patrick Spens is the best skipper + That ever sail'd the sea." + + The king he wrote a braid letter, + And seal'd it wi' his ring; 10 + Says, "Ye'll gi'e that to Patrick Spens: + See if ye can him find." + + He sent this, not wi' an auld man, + Nor yet a simple boy, + But the best o' nobles in his train 15 + This letter did convoy. + + When Patrick look'd the letter upon + A light laugh then ga'e he; + But ere he read it till an end, + The tear blinded his e'e. 20 + + "Ye'll eat and drink, my merry men a', + An' see ye be weell thorn; + For blaw it weet, or blaw it wind, + My guid ship sails the morn." + + Then out it speaks a guid auld man, 25 + A guid death mat he dee,-- + "Whatever ye do, my guid master, + Tak' God your guide to bee. + + "For late yestreen I saw the new moon, + The auld moon in her arm." 30 + "Ohon, alas!" says Patrick Spens, + "That bodes a deadly storm. + + "But I maun sail the seas the morn, + And likewise sae maun you; + To Noroway, wi' our king's daughter,-- 35 + A chosen queen she's now. + + "But I wonder who has been sae base, + As tauld the king o' mee: + Even tho' hee ware my ae brither, + An ill death mat he dee." 40 + + Now Patrick he rigg'd out his ship, + And sailed ower the faem; + But mony a dreary thought had hee, + While hee was on the main. + + They hadna sail'd upon the sea 45 + A day but barely three, + Till they came in sight o' Noroway, + It's there where they must bee. + + They hadna stayed into that place + A month but and a day, 50 + Till he caus'd the flip in mugs gae roun', + And wine in cans sae gay. + + The pipe and harp sae sweetly play'd, + The trumpets loudly soun'; + In every hall where in they stay'd, 55 + Wi' their mirth did reboun'. + + Then out it speaks an auld skipper, + An inbearing dog was hee,-- + "Ye've stay'd ower lang in Noroway, + Spending your king's monie." 60 + + Then out it speaks Sir Patrick Spens,-- + "O how can a' this bee? + I ha'e a bow o' guid red gowd + Into my ship wi' mee. + + "But betide me well, betide me wae, 65 + This day I'se leave the shore; + And never spend my king's monie + 'Mong Noroway dogs no more." + + Young Patrick hee is on the sea, + And even on the faem, 70 + Wi' five-an-fifty Scots lords' sons, + That lang'd to bee at hame. + + They hadna sail'd upon the sea + A day but barely three, + Till loud and boistrous grew the wind, 75 + And stormy grew the sea. + + "O where will I get a little wee boy + Will tak' my helm in hand, + Till I gae up to my tapmast, + And see for some dry land?" 80 + + He hadna gane to his tapmast + A step but barely three; + Ere thro' and thro' the bonny ship's side, + He saw the green haw sea. + + "There are five-an-fifty feather beds 85 + Well packed in ae room; + And ye'll get as muckle guid canvas + As wrap the ship a' roun'; + + "Ye'll pict her well, and spare her not, + And mak' her hale and soun'." 90 + But ere he had the word well spoke + The bonny ship was down. + + O laith, laith were our guid lords' sons + To weet their milk-white hands; + But lang ere a' the play was ower 95 + They wat their gowden bands. + + O laith, laith were our Scots lords' sons + To weet their coal-black shoon; + But lang ere a' the play was ower + They wat their hats aboon. 100 + + It's even ower by Aberdour + It's fifty fathoms deep, + And yonder lies Sir Patrick Spens, + And a's men at his feet. + + It's even ower by Aberdour, 105 + There's mony a craig and fin, + And yonder lies Sir Patrick Spens, + Wi' mony a guid lord's son. + + Lang, lang will the ladyes look + Into their morning weed, 110 + Before they see young Patrick Spens + Come sailing ower the fleed. + + Lang, lang will the ladyes look + Wi' their fans in their hand, + Before they see him, Patrick Spens, 115 + Come sailing to dry land. + + + + +LORD LIVINGSTON. + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 39. + + + It fell about the Lammas time, + When wightsmen won their hay; + A' the squires in merry Linkum, + Went a' forth till a play. + + They play'd until the evening tide, 5 + The sun was gaeing down; + A lady thro' plain fields was bound, + A lily leesome thing. + + Two squires that for this lady pledged, + In hopes for a renown; 10 + The one was call'd the proud Seaton, + The other Livingston. + + "When will ye, Michaell o' Livingston, + Wad for this lady gay?" + "To-morrow, to-morrow," said Livingston, 15 + "To-morrow, if you may." + + Then they hae wadded their wagers, + And laid their pledges down; + To the high castle o' Edinbro' + They made them ready boun'. 20 + + The chamber that they did gang in, + There it was daily dight; + The kipples were like the gude red gowd, + As they stood up in hight; + And the roof-tree like the siller white, 25 + And shin'd like candles bright. + + The lady fair into that ha' + Was comely to be seen; + Her kirtle was made o' the pa', + Her gowns seem'd o' the green. 30 + + Her gowns seem'd like green, like green, + Her kirtle o' the pa'; + A siller wand intill her hand, + She marshall'd ower them a'. + + She gae every knight a lady bright, 35 + And every squire a may; + Her own sell chose him, Livingston, + They were a comely tway. + + Then Seaton started till his foot, + The fierce flame in his e'e: 40 + "On the next day, wi' sword in hand, + On plain fields, meet ye me." + + When bells were rung, and mass was sung, + And a' man bound for bed; + Lord Livingston and his fair dame 45 + In bed were sweetly laid. + + The bed, the bed, where they lay in, + Was cover'd wi' the pa'; + A covering o' the gude red gowd, + Lay nightly ower the twa. 50 + + So they lay there, till on the morn + The sun shone on their feet; + Then up it raise him, Livingston, + To draw to him a weed. + + The first an' weed that he drew on, 55 + Was o' the linen clear; + The next an' weed that he drew on, + It was a weed o' weir. + + The niest an' weed that he drew on, + Was gude iron and steel; 60 + Twa gloves o' plate, a gowden helmet, + Became that hind chiel weel. + + Then out it speaks that lady gay, + A little forbye stood she; + "I'll dress mysell in men's array, 65 + Gae to the fields for thee." + + "O God forbid," said Livingston, + "That e'er I dree the shame; + My lady slain in plain fields, + And I coward knight at hame!" 70 + + He scarcely travelled frae the town + A mile but barely twa, + Till he met wi' a witch woman, + I pray to send her wae. + + "This is too gude a day, my lord, 75 + To gang sae far frae town; + This is too gude a day, my lord, + On field to make you boun'. + + "I dream'd a dream concerning thee, + O read ill dreams to guid! 80 + Your bower was full o' milk-white swans, + Your bride's bed full o' bluid." + + "O bluid is gude," said Livingston, + "To bide it whoso may; + If I be frae yon plain fields, 85 + Nane knew the plight I lay." + + Then he rade on to plain fields, + As swift's his horse cou'd hie; + And there he met the proud Seaton, + Come boldly ower the lee. 90 + + "Come on to me now, Livingston, + Or then take foot and flee; + This is the day that we must try + Who gains the victorie." + + Then they fought with sword in hand, 95 + Till they were bluidy men; + But on the point o' Seaton's sword + Brave Livingston was slain. + + His lady lay ower castle wa', + Beholding dale and down, 100 + When Blenchant brave, his gallant steed, + Came prancing to the town. + + "O where is now my ain gude lord, + He stays sae far frae me?" + "O dinna ye see your ain gude lord, 105 + Stand bleeding by your knee?" + + "O live, O live, Lord Livingston, + The space o' ae half hour; + There's nae a leech in Edinbro' town + But I'll bring to your door." 110 + + "Awa' wi' your leeches, lady," he said, + "Of them I'll be the waur; + There's nae a leech in Edinbro' town, + That can strong death debar. + + "Ye'll take the lands o' Livingston, 115 + And deal them liberallie; + To the auld that may not, the young that cannot, + And blind that does na see; + And help young maidens' marriages, + That has nae gear to gie." 120 + + "My mother got it in a book, + The first night I was born, + I wou'd be wedded till a knight, + And him slain on the morn. + + "But I will do for my love's sake 125 + What ladies woudna thole; + Ere seven years shall hae an end, + Nae shoe's gang on my sole. + + "There's never lint gang on my head, + Nor kame gang in my hair, 130 + Nor ever coal nor candle light, + Shine in my bower mair." + + When seven years were near an end, + The lady she thought lang; + And wi' a crack her heart did brake, 135 + And sae this ends my sang. + + + + +CLERK TAMAS. + +Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 43. + + + Clerk Tamas lov'd her, fair Annie, + As well as Mary lov'd her son; + But now he hates her, fair Annie, + And hates the lands that she lives in. + + "Ohon, alas!" said fair Annie, 5 + "Alas! this day I fear I'll die; + But I will on to sweet Tamas, + And see gin he will pity me." + + As Tamas lay ower his shott-window, + Just as the sun was gaen down, 10 + There he beheld her, fair Annie, + As she came walking to the town. + + "O where are a' my well-wight men, + I wat that I pay meat and fee, + For to lat a' my hounds gang loose, 15 + To hunt this vile whore to the sea!" + + The hounds they knew the lady well, + And nane o' them they wou'd her bite; + Save ane that is ca'd Gaudy-where, + I wat he did the lady smite. 20 + + "O wae mat worth ye, Gaudy-where, + An ill reward this is to me; + For ae bit that I gae the lave, + I'm very sure I've gi'en you three. + + "For me, alas! there's nae remeid, 25 + Here comes the day that I maun die; + I ken ye lov'd your master well, + And sae, alas for me, did I!" + + A captain lay ower his ship window, + Just as the sun was gaen down; 30 + There he beheld her, fair Annie, + As she was hunted frae the town. + + "Gin ye'll forsake father and mither, + And sae will ye your friends and kin, + Gin ye'll forsake your lands sae broad, 35 + Then come and I will take you in." + + "Yes, I'll forsake baith father and mither, + And sae will I my friends and kin, + Yes, I'll forsake my lands sae broad, + And come, gin ye will take me in." 40 + + Then a' thing gaed frae fause Tamas, + And there was naething byde him wi'; + Then he thought lang for Arrandella, + It was fair Annie for to see. + + "How do ye now, ye sweet Tamas? 45 + And how gaes a' in your countrie?" + "I'll do better to you than ever I've done, + Fair Annie, gin ye'll come an' see." + + "O Guid forbid," said fair Annie, + "That e'er the like fa' in my hand; 50 + Wou'd I forsake my ain gude lord, + And follow you, a gae-through-land? + + "Yet nevertheless now, sweet Tamas, + Ye'll drink a cup o' wine wi' me; + And nine times in the live lang day, 55 + Your fair claithing shall changed be." + + Fair Annie pat it till her cheek, + Sae did she till her milk-white chin, + Sae did she till her flattering lips, + But never a drap o' wine gaed in. 60 + + Tamas pat it till his cheek, + Sae did he till his dimpled chin; + He pat it till his rosy lips, + And then the well o' wine gaed in. + + "These pains," said he, "are ill to bide; 65 + Here is the day that I maun die; + O take this cup frae me, Annie, + For o' the same I am weary." + + "And sae was I, o' you, Tamas, + When I was hunted to the sea; 70 + But I'se gar bury you in state, + Which is mair than ye'd done to me." + + + + +JOHN THOMSON AND THE TURK. + +From Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, Appendix, p. ix. The same in Buchan's +collection, ii. 159. + + + John Thomson fought against the Turks + Three years, intill a far countrie; + And all that time, and something mair, + Was absent from his gay ladie. + + But it fell ance upon a time, 5 + As this young chieftain sat alane, + He spied his lady in rich array, + As she walk'd ower a rural plain. + + "What brought ye here, my lady gay, + So far awa from your ain countrie? 10 + I've thought lang, and very lang, + And all for your fair face to see." + + For some days she did with him stay, + Till it fell ance upon a day, + "Fareweel, for a time," she said, 15 + "For now I must boun hame away." + + He's gi'en to her a jewel fine, + Was set with pearl and precious stane; + Says, "My love, beware of these savages bold + That's in your way as ye gang hame. 20 + + "Ye'll tak the road, my lady fair, + That leads you fair across the lea: + That keeps you from wild Hind Soldan, + And likewise from base Violentrie." + + Wi' heavy heart thir twa did pairt, 25 + She mintet as she wuld gae hame; + Hind Soldan by the Greeks was slain, + But to base Violentrie she's gane. + + When a twelvemonth had expired, + John Thomson he thought wondrous lang, 30 + And he has written a braid letter, + And sealed it weel wi' his ain hand. + + He sent it with a small vessel + That there was quickly gaun to sea; + And sent it on to fair Scotland, 35 + To see about his gay ladie. + + But the answer he received again,-- + The lines did grieve his heart right sair: + Nane of her friends there had her seen, + For a twelvemonth and something mair. 40 + + Then he put on a palmer's weed, + And took a pike-staff in his hand; + To Violentrie's castell he hied; + But slowly, slowly he did gang. + + When within the hall he came, 45 + He jooked and couch'd out ower his tree: + "If ye be lady of this hall, + Some of your good bountith gie me." + + "What news, what news, palmer," she said, + "And from what countrie cam ye?" 50 + "I'm lately come from Grecian plains, + Where lies some of the Scots armie." + + "If ye be come from Grecian plains, + Some mair news I will ask of thee,-- + Of one of the chieftains that lies there, 55 + If he has lately seen his gay ladie." + + "It is twa months, and something mair, + Since we did pairt on yonder plain; + And now this knight has began to fear + One of his foes he has her ta'en." 60 + + "He has not ta'en me by force nor slight; + It was a' by my ain free will; + He may tarry into the fight, + For here I mean to tarry still. + + "And if John Thomson ye do see, 65 + Tell him I wish him silent sleep; + His head was not so coziely, + Nor yet sae weel, as lies at my feet." + + With that he threw aff his strange disguise, + Laid by the mask that he had on; 70 + Said, "Hide me now, my lady fair, + For Violentrie will soon be hame." + + "For the love I bore thee ance, + I'll strive to hide you, if I can:" + Then she put him down in a dark cellar 75 + Where there lay many a new slain man. + + But he hadna in the cellar been, + Not an hour but barely three, + Then hideous was the noise he heard, + When in at the gate cam Violentrie. 80 + + Says, "I wish you well, my lady fair, + It's time for us to sit to dine; + Come, serve me with the good white bread, + And likewise with the claret wine. + + "That Scots chieftain, our mortal fae, 85 + Sae aft frae the field has made us flee, + Ten thousand zechins this day I'll give + That I his face could only see." + + "Of that same gift wuld ye give me, + If I wuld bring him unto thee? 90 + I fairly hold you at your word;-- + Come ben, John Thomson, to my lord." + + Then from the vault John Thomson came, + Wringing his hands most piteouslie: + "What would ye do," the Turk he cried, 95 + "If ye had me as I hae thee?" + + "If I had you as ye have me, + I'll tell ye what I'd do to thee; + I'd hang you up in good greenwood, + And cause your ain hand wale the tree. 100 + + "I meant to stick you with my knife + For kissing my beloved ladie:" + "But that same weed ye've shaped for me, + It quickly shall be sewed for thee." + + Then to the wood they baith are gane; 105 + John Thomson clamb frae tree to tree; + And aye he sighed and said, "Och hone! + Here comes the day that I must die." + + He tied a ribbon on every branch, + Put up a flag his men might see; 110 + But little did his false faes ken + He meant them any injurie. + + He set his horn unto his mouth, + And he has blawn baith loud and schill: + And then three thousand armed men 115 + Cam tripping all out ower the hill. + + "Deliver us our chief," they all did cry; + "It's by our hand that ye must die;" + "Here is your chief," the Turk replied, + With that fell on his bended knee. 120 + + "O mercy, mercy, good fellows all, + Mercy I pray you'll grant to me;" + "Such mercy as ye meant to give, + Such mercy we shall give to thee." + + This Turk they in his castel burnt, 125 + That stood upon yon hill so hie; + John Thomson's gay ladie they took + And hanged her on yon greenwood tree. + + + + +LORD THOMAS STUART. + +From Maidment's _North Countrie Garland_, p. 1. + + + Thomas Stuart was a lord, + A lord of mickle land; + He used to wear a coat of gold, + But now his grave is green. + + Now he has wooed the young countess, 5 + The Countess of Balquhin, + An' given her for a morning gift, + Strathboggie and Aboyne. + + But women's wit is aye willful, + Alas! that ever it was sae; 10 + She longed to see the morning gift + That her gude lord to her gae. + + When steeds were saddled an' weel bridled, + An' ready for to ride, + There came a pain on that gude lord, 15 + His back, likewise his side. + + He said, "Ride on, my lady fair, + May goodness be your guide; + For I'm sae sick an' weary that + No farther can I ride." 20 + + Now ben did come his father dear, + Wearing a golden band; + Says, "Is there nae leech in Edinburgh, + Can cure my son from wrang?" + + "O leech is come, an' leech is gane, 25 + Yet, father, I'm aye waur; + There's not a leech in Edinbro' + Can death from me debar. + + "But be a friend to my wife, father, + Restore to her her own; 30 + Restore to her my morning gift, + Strathboggie and Aboyne. + + "It had been gude for my wife, father, + To me she'd born a son; + He would have got my land an' rents, 35 + Where they lie out an' in. + + "It had been gude for my wife, father, + To me she'd born an heir; + He would have got my land an' rents, + Where they lie fine an' fair." 40 + + The steeds they strave into their stables, + The boys could'nt get them bound; + The hounds lay howling on the leech, + 'Cause their master was behind. + + "I dreamed a dream since late yestreen, 45 + I wish it may be good, + That our chamber was full of swine, + An' our bed full of blood. + + "I saw a woman come from the West, + Full sore wringing her hands, 50 + And aye she cried, 'Ohon alas! + My good lord's broken bands.' + + "As she came by my good lord's bower, + Saw mony black steeds an' brown; + I'm feared it be mony unco lords 55 + Havin' my love from town." + + As she came by my gude lord's bower, + Saw mony black steeds an' grey; + "I'm feared its mony unco lords + Havin' my love to the clay." 60 + + + + +THE SPANISH VIRGIN. + +From Percy's _Reliques_, iii. 316. + + +The three following pieces are here inserted merely as specimens of a +class of tales, horrible in their incidents but feeble in their +execution, of which whole dreary volumes were printed and read about two +centuries ago. They were all of them, probably, founded on Italian +novels. + +"The subject of this ballad is taken from a folio collection of tragical +stories, entitled, _The Theatre of God's Judgments, by Dr. Beard and Dr. +Taylor_, 1642. Pt. 2, p. 89. The text is given (with corrections) from +two copies; one of them in black-letter in the Pepys Collection. In this +every stanza is accompanied with the following distich by way of burden: + + Oh jealousie! thou art nurst in hell: + Depart from hence, and therein dwell." + + All tender hearts, that ake to hear + Of those that suffer wrong; + All you that never shed a tear, + Give heed unto my song. + + Fair Isabella's tragedy 5 + My tale doth far exceed: + Alas, that so much cruelty + In female hearts should breed! + + In Spain a lady liv'd of late, + Who was of high degree; 10 + Whose wayward temper did create + Much woe and misery. + + Strange jealousies so filled her head + With many a vain surmize, + She thought her lord had wrong'd her bed, 15 + And did her love despise. + + A gentlewoman passing fair + Did on this lady wait; + With bravest dames she might compare; + Her beauty was compleat. 20 + + Her lady cast a jealous eye + Upon this gentle maid, + And taxt her with disloyaltye, + And did her oft upbraid. + + In silence still this maiden meek 25 + Her bitter taunts would bear, + While oft adown her lovely cheek + Would steal the falling tear. + + In vain in humble sort she strove + Her fury to disarm; 30 + As well the meekness of the dove + The bloody hawke might charm. + + Her lord, of humour light and gay, + And innocent the while, + As oft as she came in his way, 35 + Would on the damsell smile. + + And oft before his lady's face, + As thinking her her friend, + He would the maiden's modest grace + And comeliness commend. 40 + + All which incens'd his lady so, + She burnt with wrath extreame; + At length the fire that long did glow, + Burst forth into a flame. + + For on a day it so befell, 45 + When he was gone from home, + The lady all with rage did swell, + And to the damsell come. + + And charging her with great offence + And many a grievous fault, 50 + She bade her servants drag her thence, + Into a dismal vault, + + That lay beneath the common-shore,-- + A dungeon dark and deep, + Where they were wont, in days of yore, 55 + Offenders great to keep. + + There never light of chearful day + Dispers'd the hideous gloom; + But dank and noisome vapours play + Around the wretched room: 60 + + And adders, snakes, and toads therein, + As afterwards was known, + Long in this loathsome vault had bin, + And were to monsters grown. + + Into this foul and fearful place, 65 + The fair one innocent + Was cast, before her lady's face; + Her malice to content. + + This maid no sooner enter'd is, + But strait, alas! she hears 70 + The toads to croak, and snakes to hiss: + Then grievously she fears. + + Soon from their holes the vipers creep, + And fiercely her assail, + Which makes the damsel sorely weep, 75 + And her sad fate bewail. + + With her fair hands she strives in vain + Her body to defend; + With shrieks and cries she doth complain, + But all is to no end. 80 + + A servant listning near the door, + Struck with her doleful noise, + Strait ran his lady to implore; + But she'll not hear his voice. + + With bleeding heart he goes agen 85 + To mark the maiden's groans; + And plainly hears, within the den, + How she herself bemoans. + + Again he to his lady hies, + With all the haste he may; 90 + She into furious passion flies, + And orders him away. + + Still back again does he return + To hear her tender cries; + The virgin now had ceas'd to mourn, 95 + Which fill'd him with surprize. + + In grief, and horror, and affright, + He listens at the walls + But finding all was silent quite, + He to his lady calls. 100 + + "Too sure, O lady," now quoth he, + "Your cruelty hath sped; + Make haste, for shame, and come and see; + I fear the virgin's dead." + + She starts to hear her sudden fate, 105 + And does with torches run; + But all her haste was now too late, + For death his worst had done. + + The door being open'd, strait they found + The virgin stretch'd along; 110 + Two dreadful snakes had wrapt her round, + Which her to death had stung. + + One round her legs, her thighs, her waist, + Had twin'd his fatal wreath; + The other close her neck embrac'd, 115 + And stopt her gentle breath. + + The snakes being from her body thrust, + Their bellies were so fill'd, + That with excess of blood they burst, + Thus with their prey were kill'd. 120 + + The wicked lady, at this sight, + With horror strait ran mad; + So raving dy'd, as was most right, + 'Cause she no pity had. + + Let me advise you, ladies all, 125 + Of jealousy beware: + It causeth many a one to fall, + And is the devil's snare. + + + + +THE LADY ISABELLA'S TRAGEDY. + + +"This ballad is given from an old black-letter copy in the Pepys +Collection, collated with another in the British Museum, H. 263, folio. +It is there entitled, _The Lady Isabella's Tragedy, or the Step-Mother's +Cruelty; being a relation of a lamentable and cruel murther, committed +on the body of the Lady Isabella, the only daughter of a noble Duke, &c. +To the tune of The Lady's Fall_. To some copies are annexed eight more +modern stanzas, entitled, _The Dutchess's and Cook's Lamentation_." +Percy's _Reliques_, iii. 199. + +The copy in Durfey's _Pills to Purge Melancholy_, v. 53, is nearly +_verbatim_ the same. + + There was a lord of worthy fame, + And a hunting he would ride, + Attended by a noble traine + Of gentrye by his side. + + And while he did in chase remaine, 5 + To see both sport and playe, + His ladye went, as she did feigne, + Unto the church to praye. + + This lord he had a daughter deare, + Whose beauty shone so bright, 10 + She was belov'd, both far and neare, + Of many a lord and knight. + + Fair Isabella was she call'd, + A creature faire was shee; + She was her fathers only joye; 15 + As you shall after see. + + Therefore her cruel step-mother + Did envye her so much, + That daye by daye she sought her life, + Her malice it was such. 20 + + She bargain'd with the master-cook + To take her life awaye; + And taking of her daughter's book, + She thus to her did saye:-- + + "Go home, sweet daughter, I thee praye, 25 + Go hasten presentlie, + And tell unto the master-cook + These wordes that I tell thee. + + "And bid him dresse to dinner streight + That faire and milk-white doe 30 + That in the parke doth shine so bright, + There's none so faire to showe." + + This ladye fearing of no harme, + Obey'd her mothers will; + And presentlye she hasted home, 35 + Her pleasure to fulfill. + + She streight into the kitchen went, + Her message for to tell; + And there she spied the master-cook, + Who did with malice swell. 40 + + "Nowe, master-cook, it must be soe, + Do that which I thee tell: + You needes must dresse the milk-white doe, + Which you do knowe full well." + + Then streight his cruell bloodye hands, 45 + He on the ladye layd; + Who quivering and shaking stands, + While thus to her he sayd: + + "Thou art the doe that I must dresse; + See here, behold my knife; 50 + For it is pointed presently + To ridd thee of thy life." + + "O then," cried out the scullion-boye, + As loud as loud might bee, + "O save her life, good master-cook, 55 + And make your pyes of mee! + + "For pityes sake do not destroye + My ladye with your knife; + You know shee is her father's joye; + For Christes sake save her life!" 60 + + "I will not save her life," he sayd, + "Nor make my pyes of thee; + Yet if thou dost this deed bewraye, + Thy butcher I will bee." + + Now when this lord he did come home 65 + For to sitt down and eat, + He called for his daughter deare, + To come and carve his meat. + + "Now sit you downe," his ladye sayd, + "O sit you downe to meat; 70 + Into some nunnery she is gone; + Your daughter deare forget." + + Then solemnlye he made a vowe + Before the companie, + That he would neither eat nor drinke, 75 + Until he did her see. + + O then bespake the scullion-boye. + With a loud voice so hye; + "If now you will your daughter see, + My lord, cut up that pye: 80 + + "Wherein her fleshe is minced small, + And parched with the fire; + All caused by her step-mother, + Who did her death desire. + + "And cursed bee the master-cook, 85 + O cursed may he bee! + I proffered him my own heart's blood, + From death to set her free." + + Then all in blacke this lord did mourne, + And for his daughters sake, 90 + He judged her cruell step-mother + To be burnt at a stake. + + Likewise he judg'd the master-cook + In boiling lead to stand. + And made the simple scullion-boye 95 + The heire of all his land. + + + + +THE CRUEL BLACK. + + +_A Collection of Old Ballads_, (1723,) ii. 152: also Evans's _Old +Ballads_, iii. 232. Entered in the Stationers' _Registers, 1569-70_. A +writer in the _British Bibliographer_, (iv. 182,) has pointed out that +this is only one of Bandello's novels versified. The novel is the 21st +of the Third Part, (London, 1792.) + +_A lamentable Ballad of the tragical End of a gallant Lord and virtuous +Lady; together with the untimely Death of their two Children: wickedly +performed by a Heathenish and Blood-thirsty Black-a-moor, their Servant; +the like of which Cruelty and Murder was never before heard of._ + + In Rome a nobleman did wed + A virgin of great fame; + A fairer creature never did + Dame Nature ever frame: + By whom he had two children fair, 5 + Whose beauty did excel; + They were their parents only joy, + They lov'd them both so well. + + The lord he lov'd to hunt the buck, + The tiger, and the boar; 10 + And still for swiftness always took + With him a black-a-moor: + Which black-a-moor within the wood + His lord he did offend, + For which he did him then correct, 15 + In hopes he would amend. + + The day it grew unto an end; + Then homewards he did haste, + Where with his lady he did rest, + Until the night was past. 20 + Then in the morning he did rise, + And did his servants call; + A hunting he provides to go: + Straight they were ready all + + To cause the toyl the lady did 25 + Intreat him not to go: + "Alas, good lady," then quoth he, + "Why art thou grieved so? + Content thyself, I will return + With speed to thee again." 30 + "Good father," quoth the little babes, + "With us here still remain." + + "Farewel, dear children, I will go + A fine thing for to buy;" + But they, therewith nothing content, 35 + Aloud began to cry. + The mother takes them by the hand, + Saying, "Come, go with me + Unto the highest tower, where + Your father you shall see." 40 + + The black-a-moor, perceiving now, + Who then did stay behind, + His lord to be a hunting gone, + Began to call to mind: + "My master he did me correct, 45 + My fault not being great; + Now of his wife I'll be reveng'd, + She shall not me intreat." + + The place was moated round about; + The bridge he up did draw; 50 + The gates he bolted very fast; + Of none he stood in awe. + He up into the tower went, + The lady being there; + Who, when she saw his countenance grim, 55 + She straight began to fear. + + But now my trembling heart it quakes + To think what I must write; + My senses all begin to fail, + My soul it doth affright. 60 + Yet must I make an end of this + Which here I have begun, + Which will make sad the hardest heart, + Before that I have done. + + This wretch unto the lady went, 65 + And her with speed did will, + His lust forthwith to satisfy, + His mind for to fulfil. + The lady she amazed was, + To hear the villain speak; 70 + "Alas," quoth she, "what shall I do? + With grief my heart will break." + + With that he took her in his arms; + She straight for help did cry; + "Content yourself, lady," he said, 75 + "Your husband is not nigh: + The bridge is drawn, the gates are shut, + Therefore come lie with me, + Or else I do protest and vow, + Thy butcher I will be." 80 + + The crystal tears ran down her face, + Her children cried amain, + And sought to help their mother dear, + But all it was in vain; + For that egregious filthy rogue 85 + Her hands behind her bound, + And then perforce with all his might, + He threw her on the ground. + + With that she shriek'd, her children cried, + And such a noise did make, 90 + That town-folks, hearing her laments, + Did seek their parts to take: + But all in vain; no way was found + To help the lady's need, + Who cried to them most piteously, 95 + "O help! O help with speed!" + + Some run into the forest wide, + Her lord home for to call; + And they that stood still did lament + This gallant lady's fall. 100 + With speed her lord came posting home; + He could not enter in; + His lady's cries did pierce his heart; + To call he did begin: + + "O hold thy hand, thou savage moor, 105 + To hurt her do forbear, + Or else be sure, if I do live, + Wild horses shall thee tear." + With that the rogue ran to the wall, + He having had his will, 110 + And brought one child under his arm, + His dearest blood to spill. + + The child, seeing his father there, + To him for help did call: + "O father! help my mother dear, 115 + We shall be killed all." + Then fell the lord upon his knee, + And did the moor intreat, + To save the life of this poor child, + Whose fear was then so great. 120 + + But this vile wretch the little child + By both the heels did take + And dash'd his brains against the wall, + Whilst parent's hearts did ake: + That being done, straightway he ran 125 + The other child to fetch, + And pluck'd it from the mother's breast, + Most like a cruel wretch. + + Within one hand a knife he brought, + The child within the other; 130 + And holding it over the wall, + Saying, "Thus shall die thy mother," + With that he cut the throat of it; + Then to the father he did call, + To look how he the head did cut, 135 + And down the head did fall. + + This done, he threw it down the wall + Into the moat so deep; + Which made the father wring his hands, + And grievously to weep. 140 + Then to the lady went this rogue, + Who was near dead with fear, + Yet this vile wretch most cruelly + Did drag her by the hair; + + And drew her to the very wall, 145 + Which when her lord did see, + Then presently he cried out, + And fell upon his knee: + Quoth he, "If thou wilt save her life, + Whom I do love so dear, 150 + I will forgive thee all is past, + Though they concern me near. + + "O save her life, I thee beseech; + O save her, I thee pray, + And I will grant thee what thou wilt 155 + Demand of me this day." + "Well," quoth the moor, "I do regard + The moan that thou dost make: + If thou wilt grant me what I ask, + I'll save her for thy sake." 160 + + "O save her life, and then demand + Of me what thing thou wilt." + "Cut off thy nose, and not one drop + Of her blood shall be spilt." + With that the lord presently took 165 + A knife within his hand, + And then his nose he quite cut off, + In place where he did stand. + + "Now I have bought my lady's life," + He to the moor did call; 170 + "Then take her," quoth this wicked rogue, + And down he let her fall. + Which when her gallant lord did see, + His senses all did fail; + Yet many sought to save his life, 175 + But nothing could prevail. + + When as the moor did see him dead, + Then did he laugh amain + At them who for their gallant lord + And lady did complain: 180 + Quoth he, "I know you'll torture me, + If that you can me get, + But all your threats I do not fear, + Nor yet regard one whit. + + "Wild horses shall my body tear, 185 + I know it to be true, + But I prevent you of that pain:" + And down himself he threw. + + Too good a death for such a wretch, + A villain void of fear! 190 + And thus doth end as sad a tale + As ever man did hear. + + + + +BOOK IV. + + + + +KING MALCOLM AND SIR COLVIN. See p. 173. + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 6. + + + There ance liv'd a king in fair Scotland, + King Malcolm called by name; + Whom ancient history gives record, + For valour, worth, and fame. + + And it fell ance upon a day, 5 + The king sat down to dine; + And then he miss'd a favourite knight, + Whose name was Sir Colvin. + + But out it speaks another knight, + Ane o' Sir Colvin's kin; 10 + "He's lyin' in bed, right sick in love, + All for your daughter Jean." + + "O waes me," said the royal king, + "I'm sorry for the same; + She maun take bread and wine sae red, 15 + Give it to Sir Colvin." + + Then gently did she bear the bread, + Her page did carry the wine, + And set a table at his bed;-- + "Sir Colvin, rise and dine." 20 + + "O well love I the wine, lady, + Come frae your lovely hand; + But better love I your fair body, + Than all fair Scotland's strand." + + "O hold your tongue now, Sir Colvin, 25 + Let all your folly be; + My love must be by honour won, + Or nane shall enjoy me. + + "But on the head o' Elrick's hill, + Near by yon sharp hawthorn, 30 + Where never a man with life e'er came, + Sin our sweet Christ was born;-- + + "O ye'll gang there and walk a' night, + And boldly blaw your horn; + With honour that ye do return, 35 + Ye'll marry me the morn." + + Then up it raise him, Sir Colvin, + And dress'd in armour keen; + And he is on to Elrick's hill, + Without light of the meen. 40 + + At midnight mark the meen upstarts; + The knight walk'd up and down; + While loudest cracks o' thunder roar'd, + Out ower the bent sae brown. + + Then by the twinkling of an e'e 45 + He spied an armed knight; + A fair lady bearing his brand, + Wi' torches burning bright. + + Then he cried high, as he came nigh, + "Coward, thief, I bid you flee! 50 + There is not ane comes to this hill, + But must engage wi' me. + + "Ye'll best take road before I come, + And best take foot and flee; + Here is a sword baith sharp and broad, 55 + Will quarter you in three." + + Sir Colvin said, "I'm not afraid + Of any here I see; + You hae not ta'en your God before; + Less dread hae I o' thee." 60 + + Sir Colvin then he drew his sword, + His foe he drew his brand; + And they fought there on Elrick's hill + Till they were bluidy men. + + The first an' stroke the knight he strake, 65 + Gae Colvin a slight wound; + The next an' stroke Lord Colvin strake, + Brought's foe unto the ground. + + "I yield, I yield," the knight he said, + "I fairly yield to thee; 70 + Nae ane came e'er to Elrick-hill + E'er gain'd such victorie. + + "I and my forbears here did haunt + Three hundred years and more; + I'm safe to swear a solemn oath, 75 + We were never beat before." + + "An asking," said the lady gay, + "An asking ye'll grant me:" + "Ask on, ask on," said Sir Colvin, + "What may your asking be?" 80 + + "Ye'll gie me hame my wounded knight, + Let me fare on my way; + And I'se ne'er be seen on Elrick's hill, + By night, nor yet by day; + And to this place we'll come nae mair, 85 + Cou'd we win safe away; + + "To trouble any Christian one + Lives in the righteous law, + We'll come nae mair unto this place, + Cou'd we win safe awa'." 90 + + "O ye'se get hame your wounded knight, + Ye shall not gang alane; + But I maun hae a wad o' him, + Before that we twa twine." + + Sir Colvin being a book-learn'd man, 95 + Sae gude in fencing tee, + He's drawn a stroke behind his hand, + And followed in speedilie. + + Sae fierce a stroke Sir Colvin's drawn, + And followed in speedilie, 100 + The knight's brand and sword hand + In the air he gar'd them flee. + + It flew sae high into the sky, + And lighted on the ground; + The rings that were on these fingers 105 + Were worth five hundred pound. + + Up he has ta'en that bluidy hand, + Set it before the king; + And the morn it was Wednesday, + When he married his daughter Jean. 110 + + + + +SKI[OE]N ANNA; FAIR ANNIE, See p. 191. + + +Translated in Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, ii. 103, from Syv's +_Kj[oe]mpe Viser_. See another copy in Nyerup's _Danske Viser_, iv. 59. + + The reivers they wad a stealing gang, + To steal sae far frae hame; + And stown ha'e they the king's daughter, + Fair Annie hight by name. + + They've carried her into fremmit lands, 5 + To a duke's son of high degree; + And he has gie'n for Fair Annie + Mickle goud and white money. + + And eight lang years o' love sae leal + Had past atween them twae; 10 + And now a bonny bairntime + O' seven fair sons had they. + + That lord he was of Meckelborg land, + Of princely blood and stemme; + And for his worth and curtesy 15 + That lord a king became. + + But little wist that noble king, + As little his barons bald, + That it was the king of England's daughter, + Had sae to him been sald! 20 + + And eight lang years sae past and gane, + Fair Annie now may rue; + For now she weets in fremmit lands + Anither bride he'll wooe. + + Fair Annie's till his mither gane; 25 + Fell low down on her knee; + "A boon, a boon, now lady mither, + Ye grant your oys and me! + + "If ever ye kist, if ever ye blest, + And bade them thrive and thee, 30 + O save them now frae scaith and scorn, + O save your oys and me! + + "Their father's pride may yet relent; + His mither's rede he'll hear; + Nor for anither break the heart 35 + That ance to him was dear. + + "He had my love and maiden pride; + I had nae mair to gi'e; + He well may fa' a brighter bride, + But nane that lo'es like me." 40 + + "A brighter bride he ne'er can fa'; + A richer well he may; + But daughter dearer nor Fair Annie, + His mither ne'er can ha'e." + + That princess stood her son before: 45 + "My lord the king," said she, + "Fy on the lawless life ye lead, + Dishonour'd as ye be! + + "Its Annie's gude, and Annie's fair, + And dearly she lo'es thee; 50 + And the brightest gems in a' your crown + Your seven fair sons wad be. + + "Her love, her life, her maiden fame, + Wi' you she shar'd them a'; + Now share wi' her your bridal bed; 55 + Her due she well may fa'." + + "To my bridal bed, my mither dear, + Fair Annie ne'er can win; + I coft her out of fremmit lands, + Nor ken her kith or kin." 60 + + And he's gard write a braid letter, + His wedding to ordein; + And to betrothe anither bride + To be his noble queen. + + Fair Annie up at her bower window 65 + Heard a' that knight did say: + "O God, my heavenly Father! gif + My heart mat brast in twae!" + + Fair Annie stood at her bower window, + And heard that knight sae bald: 70 + "O God, my heavenly Father! gif + I mat my dearest hald!" + + That lord is to Fair Annie gane: + Says, "Annie, thou winsome may, + O whatten a gude gift will ye gi'e 75 + My bride on her bridal day?" + + "I'll gi'e her a gift, and a very gude gift, + And a dear-bought gift to me; + For I'll gi'e her my seven fair sons, + Her pages for to be." 80 + + "O that is a gift, but nae gude gift, + Frae thee, Fair Annie, I ween; + And ye maun gi'e some richer gift + Befitting a noble queen." + + "I'll gi'e her a gift, and a dear, dear gift, 85 + And a gift I brook wi' care; + For I'll gi'e her my dearest life, + That I dow brook nae mair." + + "O that is a gift, but a dowie gift, + Now, Annie, thou winsome may; 90 + Ye maun gi'e her your best goud girdle, + Her gude will for to ha'e." + + "Oh na, that girdle she ne'er shall fa'; + That I can never bear; + The luckless morn I gave you a', 95 + Ye gae me that girdle to wear." + + That lord before his bride gan stand: + "My noble bride and queen! + O whatten a gift to my lemman Annie + Will now by you be gi'en?" 100 + + "I'll gi'e her a gift, and a very gude gift, + My lord the king," said she; + "For I'll gi'e her my auld shoe to wear, + Best fitting her base degree." + + "O that is a gift, but nae gude gift, 105 + My noble bride and queen; + And ye maun gi'e her anither gift, + If you'll my favour win." + + "Then I'll gi'e her a very gude gift, + My lord the king," said she; 110 + "I'll gie her my millers seven, that lig + Sae far ayont the sea. + + "Well are they fed, well are they clad, + And live in heal and weal; + And well they ken to measure out 115 + The wheat, but and caneel." + + Fair Annie says, "My noble lord, + This boon ye grant to me; + Let me gang up to the bridal bower, + Your young bride for to see." 120 + + "O gangna, Annie, gangna, there, + Nor come that bower within; + Ye maunna come near that bridal bower, + Wad ye my favour win." + + Fair Annie is till his mither gane: 125 + "O lady mither," said she, + "May I gang to the bridal bower, + My lord's new bride to see?" + + "That well ye may," his mither said; + But see that ye're buskit bra', 130 + And clad ye in your best cleading, + Wi' your bower maidens a'." + + Fair Annie she's gaen to the bower, + Wi' heart fu' sair and sad; + Wi' a' her seven sons her before, 135 + In the red scarlet clad. + + Fair Annie's taen a silver can, + Afore the bride to skink; + And down her cheeks the tears ay run, + Upon hersell to think. 140 + + The bride gan stand her lord before: + "Now speak, and dinna spare; + Whare is this fair young lady frae? + Whareto greets she sae sair?" + + "O hear ye now, dear lady mine, 145 + The truth I tell to thee; + It is but a bonny niece of mine, + That is come o'er the sea." + + "O wae is me, my lord," she says, + "To hear you say sic wrang; 150 + It can be nane but your auld lemman; + God rede whare she will gang!" + + "Then till her sorrow, and till her wae, + I'll tell the truth to thee; + For she was sald frae fremmit lands, 155 + For mickle goud to me. + + "Her bairntime a' stand her before, + Her seven young sons sae fair; + And they maun now your pages be, + That maks her heart sae sair." 160 + + "A little sister ance I had, + A sister that hight Ann; + By reivers she was stown awa', + And sald in fremmit land. + + "She was a bairn when she was stown, 165 + Yet in her tender years; + And sair her parents mourn'd for her, + Wi' mony sighs and tears. + + "Art thou fair Annie, sister mine, + Thou noble violet flower? 170 + Her mither never smil'd again + Frae Annie left her bower! + + "O thou art she! a sister's heart + Wants nane that tale to tell! + And there he is, thy ain true lord; 175 + God spare ye lang and well!" + + And gladness through the palace spread, + Wi' mickle game and glee; + And blythe were a' for fair Annie, + Her bridal day to see. 180 + + And now untill her father's land + This young bride she is gane; + And her sister Annie's youngest son + She hame wi' her has ta'en. + + + + +LADY MARGARET. See p. 205. + +From Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 180. + + + "The corn is turning ripe, Lord John, + The nuts are growing fu', + And ye are bound for your ain countrie; + Fain wad I go wi' you." + + "Wi me, Marg'ret, wi me, Marg'ret, 5 + What wad ye do wi' me? + I've mair need o' a pretty little boy, + To wait upon my steed." + + "It's I will be your pretty little boy, + To wait upon your steed; 10 + And ilka town that we come to, + A pack of hounds I'll lead." + + "My hounds will eat o' the bread o' wheat, + And ye of the bread of bran: + And then you will sit and sigh, 15 + That e'er ye loed a man." + + The first water that they cam to, + I think they call it Clyde, + He saftly unto her did say,-- + "Lady Marg'ret, will ye ride?" 20 + + The first step that she steppit in, + She steppit to the knee; + Says, "Wae be to ye, waefu' water, + For through ye I maun be." + + The second step that she steppit in, 25 + She steppit to the middle, + And sigh'd, and said, Lady Margaret, + "I've stain'd my gowden girdle." + + The third step that she steppit in, + She steppit to the neck; 30 + The pretty babe within her sides, + The cauld it garr'd it squake. + + "Lie still my babe, lie still my babe, + Lie still as lang's ye may, + For your father rides on horseback high, 35 + Cares little for us twae." + + It's whan she cam to the other side, + She sat doun on a stane; + Says, "Them that made me, help me now, + For I am far frae hame. 40 + + "How far is it frae your mither's bouer, + Gude Lord John tell to me?" + "It's therty miles, Lady Margaret, + It's therty miles and three: + And ye'se be wed to ane o' her serving men, 45 + For ye'se get na mair o' me." + + Then up bespak the wylie parrot, + As it sat on the tree;-- + "Ye lee, ye lee, Lord John," it said, + "Sae loud as I hear ye lee. 50 + + "Ye say it's thirty miles frae your mither's bouer, + Whan it's but barely three; + And she'll ne'er be wed to a serving man, + For she'll be your ain ladie." + + * * * * * * + Monie a lord and fair ladie 55 + Met Lord John in the closs, + But the bonniest face amang them a', + Was hauding Lord John's horse. + + Monie a lord and gay ladie + Sat dining in the ha', 60 + But the bonniest face that was there, + Was waiting on them a'. + + O up bespak Lord John's sister, + A sweet young maid was she: + "My brither has brought a bonnie young page, + His like I ne'er did see; 66 + But the red flits fast frae his cheek, + And the tear stands in his ee." + + But up bespak Lord John's mither, + She spak wi' meikle scorn: 70 + "He's liker a woman gret wi' bairn, + Than onie waiting-man." + + "It's ye'll rise up, my bonnie boy, + And gie my steed the hay:"-- + "O that I will, my dear master, 75 + As fast as I can gae." + + She took the hay aneath her arm, + The corn intil her hand; + But atween the stable door and the staw, + Lady Marg'ret made a stand. 80 + + * * * * * * + "O open the door, Lady Margaret, + O open and let me in; + I want to see if my steed be fed, + Or my grey hounds fit to rin." + + "I'll na open the door, Lord John," she said, 85 + "I'll na open it to thee, + Till ye grant to me my ae request, + And a puir ane it's to me. + + "Ye'll gie to me a bed in an outhouse, + For my young son and me, 90 + And the meanest servant in a' the place, + To wait on him and me." + + "I grant, I grant, Lady Marg'ret," he said, + "A' that, and mair frae me, + The very best bed in a' the place + To your young son and thee: 95 + And my mither, and my sister dear, + To wait on him and thee. + + "And a' thae lands, and a' thae rents, + They sall be his and thine; 100 + Our wedding and our kirking day, + They sall be all in ane." + + And he has tane Lady Margaret, + And row'd her in the silk; + And he has tane his ain young son, 105 + And wash'd him in the milk. + + + + +EARL RICHARD (B). See p. 260. + +From Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 15. + + + There was a shepherd's dochter + Kept sheep on yonder hill; + Bye cam a knicht frae the king's court, + And he wad hae his will. + + Whan he had got his wills o' her, 5 + His will as he has tane; + "Wad ye be sae gude and kind, + As tell to me your name?" + + "Some ca's me Jock, some ca's me John, + Some disna ken my name; 10 + But whan I'm in the king's court, + Mitchcock is my name." + + "Mitchcock! hey!" the lady did say, + And spelt it oure again; + "If that's your name in the Latin tongue, 15 + Earl Richard is your name!" + + O jumpt he upon his horse, + And said he wad gae ride; + Kilted she her green claithing, + And said she wad na bide. 20 + + And he was never sae discreet, + As bid her loup on and ride; + And she was ne'er sae meanly bred, + As for to bid him bide. + + And whan they cam to yon water, 25 + It was running like a flude; + "I've learnt it in my mither's bouer, + I've learnt it for my gude, + That I can soum this wan water, + Like a fish in a flude. 30 + + "I've learnt it in my father's bouer, + Ive learnt it for my better, + And I will soum this wan water, + As tho' I was ane otter." + + "Jump on behind, ye weill-faur'd may, 35 + Or do ye chuse to ride?" + "No, thank ye, sir," the lady said, + "I wad rather chuse to wyde;" + And afore that he was 'mid-water, + She was at the ither side. 40 + + "Turn back, turn back, ye weill-faur'd may, + My heart will brak in three;" + "And sae did mine, on yon bonnie hill-side, + Whan ye wad na let me be." + + "Whare gat ye that gay claithing, 45 + This day I see on thee?" + "My mither was a gude milk-nurse, + And a gude nourice was she, + She nurs'd the Earl o' Stockford's ae dochter, + And gat a' this to me." 50 + + Whan she cam to the king's court, + She rappit wi' a ring; + Sae ready was the king himsel' + To lat the lady in. + + "Gude day, gude day, my liege the king, 55 + Gude day, gude day, to thee;" + "Gude day," quo' he, "my lady fair, + What is't ye want wi' me?" + + "There is a knicht into your court, + This day has robbed me;" 60 + "O has he tane your gowd," he says, + "Or has he tane your fee?" + + "He has na tane my gowd," she says, + "Nor yet has he my fee; + But he has tane my maiden-head, 65 + The flow'r o' my bodie." + + "O gin he be a single man, + His body I'll gie thee; + But gin he be a married man, + I'll hang him on a tree." 70 + + Then out bespak the queen hersel', + Wha sat by the king's knee: + "There's na a knicht in a' our court + Wad hae dune that to thee, + Unless it war my brither, Earl Richard, 75 + And forbid it, it war he!" + + "Wad ye ken your fause love, + Amang a hundred men?" + "I wad," said the bonnie ladie, + "Amang five hundred and ten." 80 + + The king made a' his merry men pass, + By ane, by twa, and three; + Earl Richard us'd to be the first man, + But was hindmost man that day. + + He cam hauping on ae foot, 85 + And winking wi' ae ee; + "Ha! ha!" cried the bonnie ladie, + "That same young man are ye." + + He has pou'd out a hundred pounds, + Weel lockit in a glove; 90 + "Gin ye be a courteous may, + Ye'll chose anither love." + + "What care I for your hundred pounds? + Nae mair than ye wad for mine; + What's a hundred pounds to me, 95 + To a marriage wi' a king! + + "I'll hae nane o' your gowd, + Nor either o' your fee; + But I will hae your ain bodie, + The king has grantit me." 100 + + "O was ye gentle gotten, maid? + Or was ye gentle born? + Or hae ye onie gerss growin'? + Or hae ye onie corn? + + "Or hae ye onie lands or rents 105 + Lying at libertie? + Or hae ye onie education, + To dance alang wi' me?" + + "I was na gentle gotten, madam, + Nor was I gentle born; 110 + Neither hae I gerss growin', + Nor hae I onie corn. + + "I hae na onie lands or rents, + Lying at libertie; + Nor hae I onie education, 115 + To dance along wi' thee." + + Whan the marriage it was oure, + And ilk ane took their horse,-- + "It never sat a beggar's brat, + At na knicht's back to be." 120 + + He lap on ae milk-white steed, + And she lap on anither, + And syne the twa rade out the way + Like sister and like brither. + + The ladie met wi' a beggar-wife, 125 + And gied her half o' crown-- + "Tell a' your neebours whan ye gae hame, + That Earl Richard's your gude-son." + + "O haud your tongue, ye beggar's brat, + My heart will brak in three;" 130 + "And sae did mine on yon bonnie hill-side, + Whan ye wad na lat me be." + + Whan she cam to yon nettle-dyke-- + "An my auld mither was here, + Sae weill as she wad ye pou; 135 + She wad boil ye weill, and butter ye weill, + And sup till she war fou, + Syne laye her head upo' her dish doup, + And sleep like onie sow." + + And whan she cam to Tyne's water, 140 + She wylilie did say-- + "Fareweil, ye mills o' Tyne's water, + With thee I bid gude-day. + + "Fareweil, ye mills o' Tyne's water, + To you I bid gude-een; 145 + Whare monie a time I've fill'd my pock, + At mid-day and at een." + + "Hoch! had I drank the well-water, + Whan first I drank the wine, + Never a mill-capon 150 + Wad hae been a love o' mine." + + Whan she cam to Earl Richard's house, + The sheets war Hollan' fine; + "O haud awa thae linen sheets, + And bring to me the linsey clouts, 155 + I hae been best used in." + + "O haud your tongue, ye beggar's brat, + My heart will brak in three;" + "And sae did mine on yon bonnie hill-side, + Whan ye wadna lat me be." 160 + + "I wish I had drank the well-water, + Whan first I drank the beer; + That ever a shepherd's dochter + Shou'd hae been my only dear!" + + "Ye'll turn about, Earl Richard, 165 + And mak some mair o' me: + An ye mak me lady o' ae puir plow, + I can mak you laird o' three." + + "If ye be the Earl o' Stockford's dochter, + As I've some thouchts ye be, 170 + Aft hae I waited at your father's yett, + But your face I ne'er could see." + + Whan they cam to her father's yett, + She tirled on the pin; + And an auld belly-blind man was sittin' there, 175 + As they were entering in:-- + + "The meetest marriage," the belly-blind did cry, + "Atween the ane and the ither; + Atween the Earl o' Stockford's ae dochter, + And the Queen o' England's brither." 180 + + + + +GLOSSARY. + +[hand] Figures placed after words denote the pages in which they occur. + + + aboon, aboun, abune, _above_; + 151, above the surface of the water. + + ackward stroke, 84, 178, _cross or back stroke_. + + acton, _a leather jacket worn under a coat of mail_. + + ae, _only_. + + airts, _quarters_, _points of the compass_. + + an, _one_; + an ae, _one single_. + + aneath, _beneath_. + + anes, _once_. + + asking, _boon_. + + aughts, _owns_. + + aukeward stroke, 178, 84, _cross or back stroke_. + + auld son, 102. "_Young Son_ and _Auld Son_ are phrases used only to + denote the comparative ages of children. The _young son_ is + perhaps the child now in the nurse's arms; + the _auld son_, he who has just begun to walk without + leading-strings."--_Chambers._ + + ava, _of all_; + 287, _at all_. + + avowe, _vow_. + + ayont, _beyond_. + + + baffled, _disgraced_. + + bairntime, _brood of children_. + + bale-fire, _bonfire_. + + band, _agreement_. + + bane-fire, _bonfire_. + + bedeene, 247, _immediately?_ _continuously?_ + + bedight, _furnished_. + + beforne, _before_. + + belive, _soon_. + + belly blind, 365, _stone blind_. + + ben, _in_. + + bent, _a field where the coarse grass so named grows_. + + big, _build_; + biggit, _built_. + + bigly, _spacious_, _commodious_. + + billie, _comrade_, _brother_, _a term of affection_. + + binna, _be not_. + + birk, _birch_. + + birl, _drink_, _pour out drink_, _ply with drink_. + + blanne, _stopped_. + + blee, _complexion_. + + bleid, _blood_. + + blint, _blinded_. + + bookin, bo'kin, _bodkin_, _small dagger_. + + bookesman, _clerk_, _secretary_. + + bore, _crevice_, _hole_. + + borrow, _ransom_. + + bouer, _chamber_. + + boun, 334, _go_. + + boun, _ready_. + + bountith, _bounties_. + + boustouslie, _threateningly_. + + bout, _bolt_. + + bow, _bole_, _two bushels_. + + bower, _chamber_. + + bowne, _ready_. + + brae, _hill-side_. + + bragged, _defied_. + + braid letter, _an open letter_, _or_ _letter patent_. + + brash, _sickness_. + + brast, _burst_. + + braw, _brave_, _handsome_. + + breast, 44, _make a horse spring up or forward_? + + brechan, _tartan_, _plaid_. + + brenne, _burn_. + + bricht, _bright_. + + brodinge, 176, _pricking_. + + bully, _see_ billie. + + burd, _lady_. + + busk, _dress_, _make ready_; + busk on, _put on for dress_; + buskit, _dressed_. + + but and, _and also_. + + + can, _used as an auxiliary with the infinitive mood_, _to form an + imperfect tense_. + + caneel, _cinnamon_. + + cannie, _handily_, _gently_. + + caps, 301, _bowls_. + + carle, _churl_; + carline, _feminine of churl_, _old woman_. + + carlish, _churlish_. + + châmer, _chamber_. + + chapp'd, _rap_, _tapped_. + + cheer, _countenance_. + + cheer, _entertainment_. + + chive, 290, _mouthfull_? + + cleiding, _clothing_. + + close, _enclosure_. + + coble, _boat_. + + coffer, _coif_, _head-dress_, _cap_? + + coft, _bought_. + + corbies, _ravens_. + + cosh, _quiet_. + + counsayl, _secret_. + + craps, _tops_. + + cryance, 177, _apparently for recreance_, _cowardice_. + + cuist cavels, _cast lots_. + + + daigh, _dough_. + + darna, _dares not_. + + dawing, _dawn_; + daws, _dawns_. + + decaye, 132, _destruction_. + + dee, _die_. + + deemed, _adjudged_. + + deid, _death_. + + den, _hollow_, _small valley_. + + descreeve, _impart_. + + dight, 174, _prepared for_. + + dill, _dole_, _grief_. + + dinge, _strike_. + + discreet, _civil_. + + disna, _does not_. + + dochter, _daughter_. + + dole, _grief_. + + doubte, _dread_. + + douk, _dive_. + + dounae, _cannot_. + + doup, _bottom_. + + dow, _can_; + downa, _cannot_. + + dow, _dove_. + + dowie, _sad_. + + dree, drye, _bear_, _suffer_. + + dyne, _dinner_. + + + eerie, 273, _dreary_, _cheerless_. + + eldern, _old_. + + Eldridge, 170, (Elriche, Elrick, &c.,) _ghostly_, _spectral_: + 179, hill _seems to be omitted_. + + even ower, _half over_. + + + fa', _obtain as one's lot_. + + faem, _foam_. + + fail-dyke, _a wall built of sods_. + + faine, _glad_; + fainly, _gladly_. + + farden, 185, _fared_, _appeared_. + + fare, _go_. + + fecht, _fight_. + + fee, _possessions_, _property_. + + feres, _comrades_. + + fey fowk, 48, _people doomed to die_. + + ficht, _fight_. + + fin, 342? + + fitt, _strain_. + + flatter'd, 156, _fluttered_, _floated_. + + forbears, _ancestors_. + + forbye, _beyond_, _near_, + + fou, _full_. + + frae, 353, _from the time_. + + free, _noble_. + + fremmit, _foreign_. + + fund, _found_. + + + gae, _gave_. + + gae-through-land, _vagabond_. + + gane, _suffice_. + + gar, _cause_, _make_. + + gare, below her, _below the_ [_gore in the edge of the_] _skirt_? + + gear, _goods_. + + gen, _against_. + + gerss, _grass_. + + gif, _if_. + + gin, _if_. + + gin, _trick_, _snare_; + 221, _the device_ (_necessary to open the door_). + + girds, _hoops_. + + glore, _glory_. + + God before, _God help me!_ + + good-brother, 67, _brother-in-law_. + + gorgett, 246, _a kerchief to cover the bosom_. + + graith, _caparisons_; + graith'd, _caparisoned_. + + gramarye, _grammar_, _abstruse or magical learning_. + + grat, _cried_, _wept_. + + greeting, _weeping_, _crying_. + + gresse, _grass_. + + grew, _gray_. + + grype, _griffin_. + + gude-mother, _mother-in-law_. + + gude-son, _son-in-law_. + + gurly, _troubled_, _stormy_. + + + ha', _hall_. + + had, _hold_, _keep_. + + had, _taken_. + + hained, _enclosed_, _surrounded with a hedge_. + + half-fou, _half bushel_. + + hantle, _much_, _great deal_. + + happ'd, _covered_. + + hart-rote, 39, _a term of endearment_, _sweet-heart_. + + haud, _hold_. + + haugh, _low flat ground by a river-side_. + + hauping, _limping_. + + hause, _neck_. + + have owre, 151, _half over_. + + haw, _azure_. + + hawberke, _cuirass_, _coat of mail_. + + heading-hill, _beheading hill_. + + heal, _conceal_. + + heal, _health_. + + hech, _a forcible expiration of breath_, _as in striking a heavy blow_. + + heiding-hill, _the beheading hill_. + + hend, _gentle_. + + het, _hot_. + + hewberke, _cuirass_, _coat of mail_. + + hichts, _heights_. + + hight, _promised_. + + hind-chiel, _young stripling_. + + hinging, _hanging_. + + hollin, _holly_. + + hooly, _slowly_, _softly_. + + houl', _hold_. + + houms, _flat grounds near water_. + + houzle, _give the sacrament_. + + + ilka, _each_. + + inbearing, _forth-putting_. + + iwis, iwysse, _certainly_, _truly_. + + + jack, 81, _a coat of mail_. + + jagged, _pierced_. + + jess, _a leather strap for a hawk's leg, by which it was fastened to + the leash_. + + jooked, _bowed_, _made obeisance_. + + + kail, _broth_. + + kame, _comb_. + + keckle-pin, 300, should be heckle-pin, _the tooth of a heckle or + flax-comb_. + + kell, _a dress of net-work for a woman's head_. + + kempes, _soldiers_; + kemperye man, 169, _soldier-man_. + + kepped, keppit, _intercepted received when falling_. + + kevils, _lots_. + + kiest, _cast_. + + kilted, _tucked up_. + + kipples, _rafters_. + + kirkin, _churching_. + + kirk-shot, _see_ shot. + + knet, _knitted_. + + knicht, _knight_. + + knot, 274, _tie up_. + + knowe, _knoll_. + + + lack, 85, _loss_. + + laigh, _low_. + + lake, 58, _hollow place_, _grave_? + + lamer, _amber_. + + lane, your lane, &c., _alone_. + + lap, _leapt_; + 154, _sprang_. + + lauch, _laugh_. + + lauchters, _laughters_. + + lave, _rest_. + + lawing, _reckoning_. + + laye, 180, _law_. + + lay gowd, _embroider in gold_. + + lay-land, _lea-land_, _unploughed_, _green sward_. + + leafu', _lawful_. + + leal, _loyal_, _true_. + + leech, _leash_. + + leesome, _pleasant_, _lovely_. + + lemin, _gleaming_. + + lere, _countenance_. + + lethal, _deadly_. + + licht, _light_. + + lieve, _dear_. + + lift, _air_. + + lift, _carry off_. + + lig, _lie_. + + lighter, _delivered_. + + limmer, _mean_, _scoundrel_, _wretch_. + + linkin', _riding briskly_. + + linn, _the pool beneath a cataract_. + + lither, _lazy_, _wicked_. + + lodlye, _loathly_. + + loon, _clown_, _rascal_, _low fellow_. + + loot, _let_. + + louted, _bowed_, _bent_. + + + make, _mate_. + + mane, _moan_, _lament_. + + mannot, _may not_. + + maries, _maids_. + + mark, _murky_. + + marrow, _mate_, _husband_; + 67, _antagonist_, _match_. + + mat, _might_. + + mavis, _thrush_. + + maw, _mew_. + + may, _maid_. + + meen, _moon_. + + mell, 70, _milt_, _spleen_. + + micht, _might_. + + mill-capon, _a poor person who asks charity at mills from those who + have grain grinding_. + + millering, 273, _dust of the mill_. + + min', _mind_. + + min', minnie, _mother_, _love_, _dear_. + + minged, 178, _named_, _mentioned_. + + mintet, 335, _took the direction or course_. + + mirk, _dark_. + + monand, _moaning_. + + moodie hill, 84, _mole-hill_. + + morning-gift, _the gift made a wife by her husband, the morning after + marriage_. + + mun, _must_. + + + nee, _nigh_. + + nicked of naye, 162, _denied_; + should be _with naye_. + + niest, _next_. + + nurice, _nurse_. + + + o'erword, _refrain_. + + ohon, _an exclamation of sorrow_, _alas_. + + onbethought, 35, _thought upon_. + + or, _before_. + + out o'hand, _at once_. + + owre, 151, _or_, _ere_. + + oys, _grandsons_. + + + Pa, 144. Qy. _Is this a contraction of pall, and is pall, an alley or + mall in which games of ball are played?_ + + pall, _a kind of rich cloth_. + + Pasche, _Easter_. + + pat, _put_. + + paughty, _insolent_. + + pearlings, _thread laces_. + + pict, _pitch_. + + pike, _pick_. + + pin, _summit_; + gallows pin, _top of the gallows_? + + pine, _sorrow_. + + pitten, _put_. + + plat, _interwove_. + + play-feres, _play-fellows_. + + plight, _pledge_. + + plooky, _pimpled_. + + poin'd, _seized_. + + poke, _bag_. + + pot, _a deep place scooped in a rock or river-bed by the eddies_. + + pou, _pull_. + + prestlye, _quickly_. + + pricked, _rode smartly_. + + prime, _six o'clock_. + + prude, 31, _proud_? + + put down, putten down, _executed_, _killed_. + + + quair, _choir_. + + quha, _who_. + + quick, _alive_. + + + raw, _row_. + + reade, _advise_. + + reave, _deprive_. + + removde, 174, _stirred up_, _excited_. + + renish, renisht, 161, 167? + + rievers, _marauders_, _robbers_. + + rigg, _ridge_. + + rive, _riven_. + + roode, _cross_. + + room, 217, _make room_. + + roudes, _haggard_. + + round tables, _a game much played in the 15th & 16th century_. + + row, _roll_; + rowd, _rolled_. + + + sackless, _guiltless_. + + sald, _sold_. + + sark, _shirt_, _shift_. + + sat, _fitted_. + + saye, 211, _essay_, _try_. + + scale, _scatter_, _disperse_. + + scath, _injury_. + + scoup, 194, _go or fly_. + + scuttle dishes, 273, _wooden platters_. + + sea-maw, _sea-mew_. + + see, (save and see,) _protect_ + + sell, _good_; + sell gude, _right good_. + + sen, 280, _sent_. + + sen, _since_. + + send, _message_. + + shanna, _shall not_. + + shaw'd, _showed_. + + sheen, _bright_. + + shent, _disgraced_, _injured_. + + shope, 39, _shaped_, _assumed_. + + shot, _plot of land_; + also, _a place where fishermen let out their nets_. + + shot-window, _a projected_, _over-hanging window_.[8] + + sicker, sickerly, _sure_, _surely_. + + side, _long_. + + sindry, 301, _peculiar_. + + skeely, _skilful_. + + skink, _serve drink_. + + slode, _slid_, _split_. + + sloe, _slay_; + slone, _slain_. + + smit, _a clashing noise_. + + soum, _swim_. + + spare, _the opening in a woman's gown_. + + spille, _destroy_, _perish_ + + sta', _stall_. + + staf, _stuff_. + + stark and stoor, 254, _strong_, _and big_; + here we may say, _rough and rude_. + + staw, _stole_. + + steek, _stitch_, _thread_; + steeking, _stitching_. + + steeked, _fastened_. + + step-minnie, _step-mother_. + + sterte, _started_. + + stickit, 139, _cut the throat_. + + stock, _the forepart of a bed_. + + stoups, _flagons_. + + stour, stower, 171, _fight_, _disturbance_. + + stown, _stolen_. + + streekit, _stretched_, _struck down_. + + stythe, 43, _sty_. + + suld, _should_. + + swaird, _sword_. + + sweven, _dream_. + + swith, _quickly_. + + syne, _then_, _afterwards_; + ere syne, _before now_. + +[8] It "meant a certain species of aperture, generally circular, which +used to be common in the stair-cases of old wooden houses in Scotland, +and some specimens of which are yet to be seen in the Old Town of +Edinburgh. It was calculated to save glass in those parts of the house +where light was required, but where there was no necessity for the +exclusion of the air."--_Chambers._ + +Not always certainly, since persons are sometimes said to be lying at +the shot window. + + + tee, _too_. + + tein, _suffering_, _grief_. + + thae, _these_. + + theek, theekit, _thatch_, _thatched_. + + think lang, _feel weary_, _ennuyé_. + + thir, _these_. + + thocht lang, _grew weary_, _felt ennui_. + + thole, _endure_. + + thorn, 339, (and thorn'd, ii. 335,) _refreshed with food_? + + thouch, _though_. + + thought lang, _grew weary_, _felt ennui_. + + thoust, _thou shouldst_. + + thraw, _twist_. + + till, 170, _entice_. + + till, _to_. + + tine, 175, _lose_; + tint, _lost_. + + tint, 183, 227, _apparently misused by Percy_, for tine, _lose_. + + tippit, _lock (of hair)_. + + tirled at the pin, _trilled, or rattled, at the door-latch_. + + tolbooth, _prison_. + + tone, _the one_, (after the.) + + toom, _empty_. + + trattles, _prattles_, _tattles_. + + trysted, _made an appointment with_. + + twig, _twitch_. + + twine, _part_. + + tyne, _lose_. + + + ugsome, _disgusting_, _loathsome_. + + unco, _strange_. + + unmacklye, 187, _unshapely_. + + + wad, _wager_. + + wad, _would_. + + wae, _sad_. + + wake, _watch_. + + wale, _choose_. + + wallowed, 290, _withered_. + + waly, _alas_. + + wan, _dark_, _black_, _gloomy_. + + wand, _wicker_. + + wane, 221, _a number of people_. + + wantonly, 82, _nimbly_. + + wap, _wrap_. + + warlock, _wizard_. + + wat, _know_. + + wat, _wet_. + + wauked, _watched_. + + waur, _worse_. + + weary, _causing trouble_, _sad_. + + wed-bed, _marriage-bed_. + + weets, _knows_. + + weil-heid, _the vortex of a whirlpool_. + + weill-faur'd, _well-favored_. + + weir, _war_. + + weird, 220, _made liable to_, _exposed to_; + 308, apparently, _foretell that it is important_. + + weirdless, _unlucky_. + + well-wight men, _picked strong men_. + + westlin, _westward_. + + whareto, _wherefore_. + + whin, _furze_. + + wicht, _wight_. + + wicker, _twist, from being too tightly drawn_. + + wight, _strong_, _active_. + + wightlye, _bravely_, _quickly_. + + wightsmen, 325, _husbandmen?_ + + win, _come_, _reach_; + win near, _come near_; + win up, _get up_. + + winsome, _gay_, _comely_. + + win hay, _dry or make_. + + wit, _information_. + + wite, _blame_. + + wode, _mad_. + + woe, _sad_. + + won up, 218, _get up_; + should be _win up_. + + wrocht, _wrought_. + + wush, _washed_. + + wyde, _wade_. + + wyte, 317, _blame_. + + wyte, _know_. + + + yate, _gate_. + + yeard-fast, _fixed in the earth_. + + yestreen, _yesterday_. + + yett, _gate_. + + ying, _young_. + + young son, 105, _see_ auld son. + + y-rode, _rode_. + + y-were, _were_. + + + zechins, _sequins_. + + zoung, _young_. + + Zule, _Yule_, _Christmas_. + + * * * * * + + +Transcriber's Notes + +Page iii: changed "Kinlock" to "Kinloch" (27 b. Laird of Wariestoun, +[Kinloch]) + +Page v: changed "Malcom" to "Malcolm" (King Malcolm and Sir Colvin) + +Page 29; line 62: changed "this" to "thir" (Till thir twa craps drew +near;) + +Page 207; line 34: deleted closing quotation mark (Yet let me go with +thee:) + +Page 226; line 34: changed "countrayc" to "countraye" (Sir John of the +north countraye) + +Page 245; line 48: added closing quotation mark (And there shalt thou +hang on hye.") + +Page 294; line 16: added closing quotation mark (And candles burning +bright.") + +Page 303; lines 53, 54: added missing quotation marks ("What ails the +king at me," he said, "What ails the king at me?") + +Page 303; line 57: added opening quotation mark ("Liars will lie on sell +gude men,) + +Page 317: changed "Wier" to "Weir" (Weir was brought up, at midnight, +from the cellar) + +Page 336; line 32: changed closing single quote to double quote (I will +bate you for stayin' so long.") + +Page 345; line 71: changed "taavelled" to "travelled" (He scarcely +travelled frae the town) + +Page 359; line 52: removed opening single quote (My good lord's broken +bands.') + +Page 397; line 60: changed closing single quote to double (This day has +robbed me;") + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of English and Scottish Ballads (volume 3 +of 8), by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENGLISH, SCOTTISH BALLADS, (3 OF 8) *** + +***** This file should be named 38037-8.txt or 38037-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/0/3/38037/ + +Produced by Simon Gardner, Dianna Adair, Louise Davies and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by the Digital & Multimedia +Center, Michigan State University Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: English and Scottish Ballads (volume 3 of 8) + +Author: Various + +Editor: Francis James Child + +Release Date: November 16, 2011 [EBook #38037] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENGLISH, SCOTTISH BALLADS, (3 OF 8) *** + + + + +Produced by Simon Gardner, Dianna Adair, Louise Davies and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by the Digital & Multimedia +Center, Michigan State University Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div class="trans-note"> +<h4>Transcriber's Notes</h4> + +<p>Archaic, dialect and inconsistent spellings have been retained as in the original. +Other than minor changes to format or punctuation, any changes to the text +have been listed at <a href="#Transcribers_Notes">the end of the book</a>.</p> +</div> + +<p><!-- Page i --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[Pg i]</a></span></p> +<h1>ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH BALLADS.</h1> + +<h3> EDITED BY<br /> + FRANCIS JAMES CHILD.</h3> + +<h3> <span class="smcap">VOLUME III.</span></h3> + +<h4> BOSTON:<br /> + LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY.<br /> + M.DCCC.LX.</h4> +<p><!-- Page ii --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[Pg ii]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857 +by <span class="smcap">Little, Brown and Company</span>, in the Clerk's Office of +the District Court of Massachusetts.</p></div> + +<h5> RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE:<br /> + STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY<br /> + H.O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY.</h5> + +<p><!-- Page iii --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[Pg iii]</a></span></p> + + + +<h3>CONTENTS OF VOLUME THIRD.</h3> + + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td colspan="3" class="TOC_heading">BOOK III. (continued.)</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="3" align="right">Page</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">11 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#EARL_RICHARD_Scott">Earl Richard</a>, (A) [Scott's version]</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">11 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#EARL_RICHARD_Motherwell">Earl Richard</a>, [Motherwell's version]</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">11 c.</td><td align="left"><a href="#YOUNG_REDIN">Young Redin</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">11 d.</td><td align="left"><a href="#LORD_WILLIAM">Lord William</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_18">18</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">12 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#PRINCE_ROBERT">Prince Robert</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">12 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#EARL_ROBERT">Earl Robert</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1">13.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_WEARY_COBLE_O_CARGILL">The Weary Coble o' Cargill</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1">14.</td><td align="left"><a href="#OLD_ROBIN_OF_PORTINGALE">Old Robin of Portingale</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1">15.</td><td align="left"><a href="#FAUSE_FOODRAGE">Fause Foodrage</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1">16.</td><td align="left"><a href="#BONNIE_ANNIE">Bonnie Annie</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1">17.</td><td align="left"><a href="#WILLIAM_GUISEMAN">William Guiseman</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">18 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_ENCHANTED_RING">The Enchanted Ring</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">18 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#BONNY_BEE-HOM">Bonny Bee-Ho'm</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_57">57</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">19 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_THREE_RAVENS">The Three Ravens</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_59">59</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">19 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_TWA_CORBIES">The Twa Corbies</a>, [Scott]</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">20 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_DOWIE_DENS_OF_YARROW">The Dowie Dens of Yarrow</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">20 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_BRAES_O_YARROW">The Braes o' Yarrow</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_69">69</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1">21.</td><td align="left"><a href="#SIR_JAMES_THE_ROSE">Sir James the Rose</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_73">73</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1">22.</td><td align="left"><a href="#GRAEME_AND_BEWICK">Grĉme and Bewick</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1">23.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_LAMENT_OF_THE_BORDER_WIDOW">The Lament of the Border Widow</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1">24.</td><td align="left"><a href="#YOUNG_WATERS">Young Waters</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_88">88</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1">25.</td><td align="left"><a href="#BONNIE_GEORGE_CAMPBELL">Bonnie George Campbell</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_92">92</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">26 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#LAMKIN">Lamkin</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_94">94</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">26 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#LAMBERT_LINKIN">Lambert Linkin</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_100">100</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">27 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_LAIRD_OF_WARISTOUN">The Laird of Waristoun</a>, [Jamieson]</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_107">107</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">27 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#LAIRD_OF_WARIESTOUN">Laird of Wariestoun</a>, [Kinloch]<!-- Page iv --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[Pg iv]</a></span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_110">110</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">28 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_QUEENS_MARIE">The Queen's Marie</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_113">113</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">28 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#MARY_HAMILTON">Mary Hamilton</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1">29.</td><td align="left"><a href="#BESSIE_BELL_AND_MARY_GRAY">Bessie Bell and Mary Gray</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_126">126</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1">30.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_CHILDREN_IN_THE_WOOD">The Children in the Wood</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_128">128</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">31 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#HUGH_OF_LINCOLN">Hugh of Lincoln</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_136">136</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">31 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#SIR_HUGH">Sir Hugh</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_142">142</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">31 c.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_JEWS_DAUGHTER">The Jew's Daughter</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_144">144</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">32 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#SIR_PATRICK_SPENCE">Sir Patrick Spence</a>, [Percy]</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_147">147</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">32 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#SIR_PATRICK_SPENS">Sir Patrick Spens</a>, [Scott]</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_152">152</a></td></tr> + + +<tr><td colspan="3" class="TOC_heading">BOOK IV.</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">1.</td><td align="left"><a href="#KING_ESTMERE">King Estmere</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_159">159</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">2.</td><td align="left"><a href="#SIR_CAULINE">Sir Cauline</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_173">173</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">3 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#FAIR_ANNIE">Fair Annie</a>, [Scott]</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_191">191</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">3 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#FAIR_ANNIE_2">Fair Annie</a>, [Motherwell]</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_198">198</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">4 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHILD_WATERS">Child Waters</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_205">205</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">4 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#BURD_ELLEN">Burd Ellen</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_213">213</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">5 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#ERLINTON">Erlinton</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_220">220</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">5 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_CHILD_OF_ELLE">The Child of Elle</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_224">224</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">6 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#SIR_ALDINGAR">Sir Aldingar</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_234">234</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">6 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#SIR_HUGH_LE_BLOND">Sir Hugh le Blond</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_253">253</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">7 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_KNIGHT_AND_SHEPHERDS_DAUGHTER">The Knight, and Shepherd's Daughter</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_260">260</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">7 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#EARL_RICHARD_B">Earl Richard</a> (B)</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_266">266</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">8 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_GAY_GOSS-HAWK">The Gay Goss-Hawk</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_277">277</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">8 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_JOLLY_GOSHAWK">The Jolly Goshawk</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_285">285</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td colspan="3" class="TOC_heading">APPENDIX.</td></tr> + +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#YOUNG_HUNTING_See_p_3">Young Hunting</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_295">295</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#YOUNG_WATERS_See_p_88">Young Waters</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_301">301</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#LAMMIKIN_See_p_94">Lammikin</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_307">307</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#LONG_LONKIN_See_p_94">Long Lonkin</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_313">313</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#THE_LAIRD_OF_WARISTOUN_See_p_107">The Laird of Waristoun</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_316">316</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#MARY_HAMILTON_Kinloch">Mary Hamilton</a>, [Kinloch]</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_324">324</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#MARY_HAMILTON_Maidment">Mary Hamilton</a>, [Maidment]</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_329">329</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#SIR_HUGH_OR_THE_JEWS_DAUGHTER">Sir Hugh, or The Jew's Daughter</a>, [Motherwell]<!-- Page v --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_331">331</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#SIR_HUGH_See_p_136">Sir Hugh</a>, [Hume]</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_335">335</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#SIR_PATRICK_SPENS_See_p_147">Sir Patrick Spens</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_338">338</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#LORD_LIVINGSTON">Lord Livingston</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_343">343</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#CLERK_TAMAS">Clerk Tamas</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_349">349</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#JOHN_THOMSON_AND_THE_TURK">John Thomson and The Turk</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_352">352</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#LORD_THOMAS_STUART">Lord Thomas Stuart</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_357">357</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#THE_SPANISH_VIRGIN">The Spanish Virgin</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_360">360</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#THE_LADY_ISABELLAS_TRAGEDY">The Lady Isabella's Tragedy</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_366">366</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#THE_CRUEL_BLACK">The Cruel Black</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_370">370</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#KING_MALCOLM_AND_SIR_COLVIN_See">King Malcolm and Sir Colvin</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_378">378</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#SKIOEN_ANNA_FAIR_ANNIE_See_p_191">Skiœn Anna; Fair Annie</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_383">383</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#LADY_MARGARET_See_p_205">Lady Margaret</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_390">390</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#EARL_RICHARD_B_See_p_260">Earl Richard</a> (B)</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_395">395</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><span class="smcap"><a href="#GLOSSARY">Glossary</a></span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_403">403</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 1 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="BOOK_III" id="BOOK_III"></a>BOOK III.<br /> +<span style="font-size:smaller">CONTINUED</span>.</h2> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 3 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="EARL_RICHARD_Scott" id="EARL_RICHARD_Scott"></a>EARL RICHARD.</h3> + + +<p>A fragment of this gloomy and impressive romance, +(corresponding to v. 21-42,) was published in +Herd's <i>Scottish Songs</i>, i. 184, from which, probably, it +was copied into Pinkerton's <i>Scottish Tragic Ballads</i>, +p. 84. The entire ballad was first printed in <i>The Border +Minstrelsy</i>, together with another piece, <i>Lord +William</i>, containing a part of the same incidents. Of +the five versions which have appeared, four are given +in this place, and <a href="#EARL_RICHARD_B_See_p_260">the remaining one in the Appendix</a>. +In the <i>Gentleman's Magazine</i>, 1794, Vol. 64, Part I. +p. 553, there is a modern ballad of extremely perverted +orthography and vicious style, (meant for +ancient,) in which the twenty lines of Herd's fragment +are interwoven with an altogether different +story. It is printed as authentic in <i>Scarce "Ancient" +Ballads</i>, Aberdeen, 1822.</p> + +<p>"There are two ballads in Mr. Herd's MSS. upon +the following story, in one of which the unfortunate +knight is termed <i>Young Huntin'</i>. [<a href="#YOUNG_HUNTING_See_p_3">See Appendix</a>.] +The best verses are selected from both copies, and +some trivial alterations have been adopted from tradition." +<i>Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border</i>, iii. 184.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O Lady, rock never your young son, young,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One hour langer for me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I have a sweetheart in Garlioch Wells,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I love far better than thee.<!-- Page 4 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The very sole o' that lady's foot<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than thy face is far mair white:"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But, nevertheless, now, Erl Richard,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye will bide in my bower a' night?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She birled him with the ale and wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As they sat down to sup:<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A living man he laid him down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But I wot he ne'er rose up.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up and spake the popinjay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That flew aboun her head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Lady! keep weel your green cleiding<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Frae gude Erl Richard's bleid."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O better I'll keep my green cleiding<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Frae gude Erl Richard's bleid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than thou canst keep thy clattering toung,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That trattles in thy head."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She has call'd upon her bower maidens,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She has call'd them ane by ane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"There lies a dead man in my bour:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wish that he were gane!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They hae booted him, and spurred him,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As he was wont to ride;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hunting-horn tied round his waist,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A sharpe sword by his side;<!-- Page 5 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they hae had him to the wan water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For a' men call it <a name="LNanchor_III_11a_30" id="LNanchor_III_11a_30"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_11a_30" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Clyde</a>.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up and spoke the popinjay<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That sat upon the tree—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"What hae ye done wi' Erl Richard?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye were his gay ladye."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come down, come down, my bonny bird,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sit upon my hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou sall hae a cage o' gowd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where thou hast but the wand."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Awa! awa! ye ill woman!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nae cage o' gowd for me;<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">As ye hae done to Erl Richard,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae wad ye do to me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She hadna cross'd a rigg o' land,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A rigg but barely ane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When she met wi' his auld father,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Came riding all alane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Where hae ye been, now, ladye fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where hae ye been sae late?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We hae been seeking Erl Richard,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 6 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span><span class="i2">But him we canna get."—<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Erl Richard kens a' the fords in Clyde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He'll ride them ane by ane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And though the night was ne'er sae mirk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Erl Richard will be hame."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O it fell anes, upon a day,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The King was boun to ride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he has mist him, Erl Richard,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Should hae ridden on his right side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The ladye turn'd her round about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' mickle mournfu' din—<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It fears me sair o' Clyde water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That he is drown'd therein."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gar douk, gar douk," the King he cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Gar douk for gold and fee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O wha will douk for Erl Richard's sake,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or wha will douk for me?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They douked in at ae weil-heid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And out aye at the other;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"We can douk nae mair for Erl Richard,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Although he were our brother."<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It fell that, in that ladye's castle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The King was boun to bed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And up and spake the popinjay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That flew abune his head.<!-- Page 7 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Leave aff your douking on the day,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And douk upon the night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And where that sackless knight lies slain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The candles will burn bright."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O there's a bird within this bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That sings baith sad and sweet;<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O there's a bird within your bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Keeps me frae my night's sleep."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They left the douking on the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And douk'd upon the night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And where that sackless knight lay slain,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><a name="LNanchor_III_11a_86" id="LNanchor_III_11a_86"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_11a_86" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">The candles burned bright</a>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_III_11a_87" id="LNanchor_III_11a_87"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_11a_87" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">The deepest pot in a' the linn</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They fand Erl Richard in;<!-- Page 8 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A green turf tyed across his breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To keep that gude lord down.<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up and spake the King himsell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When he saw the deadly wound—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O wha has slain my right-hand man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That held my hawk and hound?"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up and spake the popinjay,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says—"What needs a' this din?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was his light leman took his life,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And hided him in the linn."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She swore her by the grass sae grene,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae did she by the corn,<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">She hadna seen him, Erl Richard,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Since Moninday at morn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Put na the wite on me," she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"It was my may Catherine:"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then they hae cut baith fern and thorn,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To burn that maiden in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It wadna take upon her cheik,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor yet upon her chin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor yet upon her yellow hair,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 9 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span><span class="i2">To cleanse the deadly sin.<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The maiden touch'd the clay-cauld corpse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A drap it never bled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ladye laid her hand on him,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And soon the ground was red.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out they hae ta'en her, may Catherine,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And put her mistress in;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The flame tuik fast upon her cheik,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tuik fast upon her chin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tuik fast upon her faire body—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><a name="LNanchor_III_11a_120" id="LNanchor_III_11a_120"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_11a_120" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">She burn'd like hollin-green</a>.<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_III_11a_30" id="Linenote_III_11a_30"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_11a_30" title="link to line number">30</a>. +<i>Clyde</i>, in Celtic, means <i>white</i>.—<span class="smcap">Lockhart.</span></p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_III_11a_86" id="Linenote_III_11a_86"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_11a_86" title="link to line number">86</a>. These are unquestionably the corpse-lights, called in +Wales <i>Canhwyllan Cyrph</i>, which are sometimes seen to illuminate +the spot where a dead body is concealed. The Editor +is informed, that, some years ago, the corpse of a man, drowned +in the Ettrick, below Selkirk, was discovered by means of +these candles. Such lights are common in churchyards, and +are probably of a phosphoric nature. But rustic superstition +derives them from supernatural agency, and supposes, that, +as soon as life has departed, a pale flame appears at the window +of the house, in which the person had died, and glides +towards the churchyard, tracing through every winding the +route of the future funeral, and pausing where the bier is to +rest. This and other opinions, relating to the "tomb-fires' +livid gleam," seem to be of Runic extraction. <span class="smcap">Scott.</span></p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_III_11a_87" id="Linenote_III_11a_87"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_11a_87" title="link to line number">87</a>. The deep holes, scooped in the rock by the eddies of a +river, are called <i>pots</i>; the motion of the water having there +some resemblance to a boiling caldron. <i>Linn</i>, means the +pool beneath a cataract. <span class="smcap">Scott.</span></p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_III_11a_120" id="Linenote_III_11a_120"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_11a_120" title="link to line number">120</a>. The lines immediately preceding, "The maiden +touched," &c., and which are restored from tradition, refer +to a superstition formerly received in most parts of Europe, +and even resorted to by judicial authority, for the discovery +of murder. In Germany, this experiment was called <i>bahrrecht</i>, +or the law of the bier; because, the murdered body +being stretched upon a bier, the suspected person was obliged +to put one hand upon the wound and the other upon the +mouth of the deceased, and, in that posture, call upon heaven +to attest his innocence. If, during this ceremony, the blood +gushed from the mouth, nose, or wound, a circumstance not +unlikely to happen in the course of shifting or stirring the +body, it was held sufficient evidence of the guilt of the party. +<span class="smcap">Scott.</span></p> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 10 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="EARL_RICHARD_Motherwell" id="EARL_RICHARD_Motherwell"></a>EARL RICHARD.</h3> + +<p class="center">Obtained from recitation by Motherwell, and printed +in his <i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. 218.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Earl Richard is a hunting gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As fast as he could ride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His hunting-horn hung about his neck,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a small sword by his side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When he came to my lady's gate,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He tirled at the pin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wha was sae ready as the lady hersell<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To open and let him in?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O light, O light, Earl Richard," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"O light and stay a' night;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">You shall have cheer wi' charcoal clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And candles burning bright."<!-- Page 11 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I will not light, I cannot light,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I cannot light at all;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fairer lady than ten of thee<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is waiting at Richard's-wall."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He stooped from his milk-white steed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To kiss her rosy cheek;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She had a penknife in her hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And wounded him so deep.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O lie ye there, Earl Richard," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"O lie ye there till morn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fairer lady than ten of me<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will think lang of your coming home."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She called her servants ane by ane,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">She called them twa by twa:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I have got a dead man in my bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wish he were awa."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The ane has ta'en him by the hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the other by the feet;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they've thrown him in a deep draw well,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Full fifty fathoms deep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up bespake a little bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That sat upon a tree:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Gae hame, gae hame, ye fause lady,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And pay your maids their fee."<!-- Page 12 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come down, come down, my pretty bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That sits upon the tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have a cage of beaten gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll gie it unto thee."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gae hame, gae hame, ye fause lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And pay your maids their fee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As ye have done to Earl Richard,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae wud ye do to me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If I had an arrow in my hand,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a bow bent on a string;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd shoot a dart at thy proud heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Among the leaves sae green."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 13 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="YOUNG_REDIN" id="YOUNG_REDIN"></a>YOUNG REDIN.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"From the recitation of Miss E. Beattie, of Edinburgh, +a native of Mearnsshire, who sings it to a +plaintive, though somewhat monotonous air of one +measure."—<span class="smcap">Kinloch</span>, <i>Ancient Scottish Ballads</i>, p. 1.</p></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Young Redin's til the huntin gane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' therty lords and three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he has til his true-love gane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As fast as he could hie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye're welcome here, my young Redin,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For coal and candle licht;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sae are ye, my young Redin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To bide wi' me the nicht."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I thank ye for your licht, ladie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae do I for your coal;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But there's thrice as fair a ladie as thee<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Meets me at Brandie's well."<!-- Page 14 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whan they were at their supper set,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And merrily drinking wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This ladie has tane a sair sickness,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And til her bed has gane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Young Redin he has followed her,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a dowie man was he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He fund his true-love in her bouer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the tear was in her ee.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whan he was in her arms laid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And gieing her kisses sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then out she's tane a little penknife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And wounded him sae deep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O lang, lang, is the winter nicht,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And slawly daws the day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is a slain knicht in my bouer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I wish he war away."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up bespak her bouer-woman,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she spak ae wi' spite:—<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"An there be a slain knicht in your bouer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's yoursel that has the wyte."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O heal this deed on me, Meggy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O heal this deed on me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The silks that war shapen for me gen Pasche,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 15 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span><span class="i2">They sall be sewed for thee."<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O I hae heal'd on my mistress<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A twalmonth and a day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I hae heal'd on my mistress,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mair than I can say."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They've booted him, and they've spurred him,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As he was wont to ride:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A huntin horn round his neck,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a sharp sword by his side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the deepest place o' Clyde's water,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's there they've made his bed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sine up bespak the wylie parrot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As he sat on the tree,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And hae ye kill'd him young Redin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wha ne'er had love but thee!"<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come doun, come doun, ye wylie parrot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come doun into my hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your cage sall be o' the beaten gowd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When now it's but the wand."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I winna come doun, I canna come doun,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I winna come doun to thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For as ye've dune to young Redin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye'll do the like to me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye'll thraw my head aff my hause-bane,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 16 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span><span class="i2">And throw me in the sea."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O there cam seekin young Redin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Monie a lord and knicht;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there cam seekin young Redin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Monie a ladie bricht.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And they hae til his true-love gane,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thinking he was wi' her;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i2">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I hae na seen him, young Redin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sin yesterday at noon;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He turn'd his stately steed about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And hied him through the toun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But ye'll seek Clyde's water up and doun,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye'll seek it out and in—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hae na seen him, young Redin,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sin yesterday at noon."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up bespak young Redin's mither,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a dowie woman was scho;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"There's na a place in a Clyde's water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But my son wad gae through."<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They've sought Clyde's water up and doun,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They've sought it out and in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the deepest place o' Clyde's water<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They fund young Redin in.<!-- Page 17 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O white, white, war his wounds washen,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As white as a linen clout;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But as the traitor she cam near,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His wounds they gushed out!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It's surely been my bouer-woman,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O ill may her betide;<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I ne'er wad slain him young Redin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And thrown him in the Clyde."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then they've made a big bane-fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The bouer-woman to brin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It tuke na on her cheek, her cheek,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">It tuke na on her chin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But it tuke on the cruel hands<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That put young Redin in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then they're tane out the bouer-woman,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And put the ladie in:<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">It tuke na on her cheek, her cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It tuke na on her chin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But it tuke on the fause, fause arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That young Redin lay in.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 18 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LORD_WILLIAM" id="LORD_WILLIAM"></a>LORD WILLIAM.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border</i>, iii. 23.</p> + + +<p>This ballad was communicated to Sir Walter Scott +by Mr. James Hogg, accompanied with the following +note:—</p> + +<p>"I am fully convinced of the antiquity of this song; +for, although much of the language seems somewhat +modernized, this must be attributed to its currency, +being much liked, and very much sung in this neighbourhood. +I can trace it back several generations, but +cannot hear of its ever having been in print. I have +never heard it with any considerable variation, save +that one reciter called the dwelling of the feigned +sweet-heart, <i>Castleswa</i>."</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord William was the bravest knight<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That dwalt in fair Scotland,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And though renown'd in France and Spain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fell by a ladie's hand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As she was walking maid alone,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Down by yon shady wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She heard a smit o' bridle reins,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She wish'd might be for good.<!-- Page 19 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come to my arms, my dear Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You're welcome hame to me;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To best o' cheer and <a name="LNanchor_III_11d_11" id="LNanchor_III_11d_11"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_11d_11" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">charcoal red</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And candle burning free."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I winna light, I darena light,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor come to your arms at a';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fairer maid than ten o' you<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll meet at Castle-law."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A fairer maid than me, Willie!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A fairer maid than me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fairer maid than ten o' me<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your eyes did never see."—<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He louted ower his saddle lap,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To kiss her ere they part,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wi' a little keen bodkin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She pierced him to the heart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ride on, ride on, Lord William now,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As fast as ye can dree!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your bonny lass at Castle-law<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will weary you to see."<!-- Page 20 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out up then spake a bonny bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sat high upon a tree,—<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"How could you kill that noble lord?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He came to marry thee."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come down, come down, my bonny bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And eat bread aff my hand!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your cage shall be of wiry goud,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whar now it's but the wand."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Keep ye your cage o' goud, lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I will keep my tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As ye hae done to Lord William,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae wad ye do to me."—<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She set her foot on her door step,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A bonny marble stane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And carried him to her chamber,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O'er him to make her mane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And she has kept that good lord's corpse<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Three quarters of a year,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until that word began to spread;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then she began to fear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then she cried on her waiting maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Aye ready at her ca';<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"There is a knight into my bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Tis time he were awa."<!-- Page 21 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The ane has ta'en him by the head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The ither by the feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thrown him in the wan water,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ran baith wide and deep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Look back, look back, now, lady fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On him that lo'ed ye weel!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A better man than that blue corpse<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ne'er drew a sword of steel."—<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_III_11d_11" id="Linenote_III_11d_11"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_11d_11" title="link to line number">11</a>. <i>Charcoal red.</i> This circumstance marks the antiquity +of the poem. While wood was plenty in Scotland, charcoal +was the usual fuel in the chambers of the wealthy. <span class="smcap">Scott.</span></p> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 22 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="PRINCE_ROBERT" id="PRINCE_ROBERT"></a>PRINCE ROBERT</h3> + + +<p>Was first published in the <i>Minstrelsy of the Scottish +Border</i>, iii. 269, and was obtained from the recitation +of Miss Christian Rutherford. Another copy, also +from recitation, is <a href="#EARL_ROBERT">subjoined</a>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Prince Robert has wedded a gay ladye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He has wedded her with a ring:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prince Robert has wedded a gay ladye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But he darna bring her hame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Your blessing, your blessing, my mother dear!<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your blessing now grant to me!"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Instead of a blessing ye sall have my curse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And you'll get nae blessing frae me."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She has call'd upon her waiting-maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To fill a glass of wine;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">She has call'd upon her fause steward,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To put rank poison in.<!-- Page 23 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She has put it to her roudes lip,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And to her roudes chin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She has put it to her fause, fause mouth,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But the never a drap gaed in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He has put it to his bonny mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And to his bonny chin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's put it to his cherry lip,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sae fast the rank poison ran in.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O ye hae poison'd your ae son, mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your ae son and your heir;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O ye hae poison'd your ae son, mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sons you'll never hae mair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O where will I get a little boy,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That will win hose and shoon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To rin sae fast to Darlinton,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bid fair Eleanor come?"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up and spake a little boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That wad win hose and shoon,—<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O I'll away to Darlinton,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bid fair Eleanor come."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O he has run to Darlinton,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And tirled at the pin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wha was sae ready as Eleanor's sell<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To let the bonny boy in.<!-- Page 24 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Your gude-mother has made ye a rare dinour,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She's made it baith gude and fine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your gude-mother has made ye a gay dinour,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ye maun cum till her and dine."—<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It's twenty lang miles to Sillertoun town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The langest that ever were gane:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the steed it was wight, and the ladye was light,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she cam linkin' in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But when she came to Sillertoun town,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And into Sillertoun ha',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The torches were burning, the ladies were mourning,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And they were weeping a'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O where is now my wedded lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And where now can he be?<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O where is now my wedded lord?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For him I canna see."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Your wedded lord is dead," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"And just gane to be laid in the clay:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your wedded lord is dead," she says,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"And just gane to be buried the day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'se get nane o' his gowd, ye'se get nane o' his gear,<!-- Page 25 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye'se get nae thing frae me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye'se no get an inch o' his gude braid land,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Though your heart suld burst in three."—<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I want nane o' his gowd, I want nane o' his gear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I want nae land frae thee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I'll hae the rings that's on his finger,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For them he did promise to me."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'se no get the rings that's on his finger,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye'se no get them frae me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye'se no get the rings that's on his finger,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An your heart suld burst in three."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's turn'd her back unto the wa',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And her face unto a rock;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there, before the mother's face,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her very heart it broke.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The tane was buried in Marie's kirk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The tother in Marie's quair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And out o' the tane there sprang a birk,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And out o' the tother a brier.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And thae twa met, and thae twa plat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The birk but and the brier;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by that ye may very weel ken<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They were twa lovers dear.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 26 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="EARL_ROBERT" id="EARL_ROBERT"></a>EARL ROBERT.</h3> + + +<p>"Given," says Motherwell, "from the recitation of +an old woman, a native of Bonhill, in Dumbartonshire; +and it is one of the earliest songs she remembers +of having heard chanted on the classic banks of +the Water of Leaven."—<i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. 200.</p> + +<p>Another copy is noted by the same editor as containing +the following stanzas:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Robert and Mary Florence,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They wer twa children ying;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They were scarce seven years of age<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till luve began to spring.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord Robert loved Mary Florence,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she lov'd him above power;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he durst not for his cruel mither<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bring her intill his bower.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It's fifty miles to Sittingen's rocks,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As ever was ridden or gane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Earl Robert has wedded a wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But he dare na bring her hame.<br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>And Earl Robert has wedded a wife</i>, <!-- Page 27 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>&c.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His mother, she call'd to her waiting-maid:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"O bring me a pint of wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I dinna weel ken what hour of this day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That my son Earl Robert shall dine."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's put it to her fause, fause cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But an' her fause, fause chin;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's put it to her fause, fause lips;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But never a drap went in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But he's put it to his bonny cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Aye and his bonny chin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's put it to his red rosy lips,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the poison went merrily down.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O where will I get a bonny boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That will win hose and shoon,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That will gang quickly to Sittingen's rocks,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bid my lady come?"<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It's out then speaks a bonny boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To Earl Robert was something akin:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Many a time have I run thy errand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But this day with the tears I'll rin."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O when he cam to Sittingen's rocks,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the middle of a' the ha',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There were bells a ringing, and music playing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ladies dancing a'.<!-- Page 28 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What news, what news, my bonny boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What news have ye to me?<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is Earl Robert in very good health,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the ladies of your countrie?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O Earl Robert's in very good health,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And as weel as a man can be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But his mother this night has a drink to be druken,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And at it you must be."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She called to her waiting-maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To bring her a riding weed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she called to her stable groom,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To saddle her milk-white steed.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But when she came to Earl Robert's bouir,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the middle of a' the ha',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There were bells a ringing and sheets down hinging,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ladies murning a'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I've come for none of his gold," she said,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Nor none of his white monie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Excepting a ring of his smallest finger,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If that you will grant me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thou'll no get none of his gold," she said.<br /></span> +<!-- Page 29 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span><span class="i2">"Nor none of his white monie;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou'll no get a ring of his smallest finger,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tho' thy heart should break in three."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She set her foot unto a stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her back unto a tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She set her foot unto a stone,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And her heart did break in three!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The one was buried in Mary's kirk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The other in Mary's quier;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of the one there grew a bush,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From the other a bonnie brier.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And thir twa grew, and thir twa threw,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till thir twa craps drew near;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So all the world may plainly see<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That they lov'd each other dear.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 30 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_WEARY_COBLE_O_CARGILL" id="THE_WEARY_COBLE_O_CARGILL"></a>THE WEARY COBLE O' CARGILL.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Motherwell's <i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. 230.</p> + + +<p>"This local ballad, which commemorates some real +event, is given from the recitation of an old woman, +residing in the neighbourhood of Cambus Michael, +Perthshire. It possesses the elements of good poetry, +and, had it fallen into the hands of those who make no +scruple of interpolating and corrupting the text of oral +song, it might have been made, with little trouble, a +very interesting and pathetic composition.</p> + +<p>"Kercock and Balathy are two small villages on the +banks of the Tay; the latter is nearly opposite Stobhall. +According to tradition, the ill-fated hero of the ballad +had a leman in each of these places; and it was on +the occasion of his paying a visit to his Kercock love, +that the jealous dame in Balathy Toun, from a revengeful +feeling, scuttled the boat in which he was to recross +the Tay to Stobhall." <span class="smcap">Motherwell.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">David Drummond's destinie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gude man o' appearance o' Cargill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wat his blude rins in the flude,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae sair against his parents' will.<!-- Page 31 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She was the lass o' Balathy toun,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he the butler o' Stobhall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mony a time she wauked late,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To bore the coble o' Cargill.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His bed was made in Kercock ha',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of gude clean sheets and of the hay;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He wudna rest ae nicht therein,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But on the prude waters he wud gae.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His bed was made in Balathy toun,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the clean sheets and of the strae;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I wat it was far better made,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Into the bottom o' bonnie Tay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She bored the coble in seven pairts,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wat her heart might hae been sae sair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For there she got the bonnie lad lost,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' the curly locks and the yellow hair.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He put his foot into the boat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He little thocht o' ony ill:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But before that he was mid waters,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The weary coble began to fill.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Woe be to the lass o' Balathy toun,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wat an ill death may she die;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For she bored the coble in seven pairts,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And let the waters perish me!<!-- Page 32 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O help, O help I can get nane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nae help o' man can to me come!"<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">This was about his dying words,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When he was choaked up to the chin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gae tell my father and my mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It was naebody did me this ill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I was a-going my ain errands,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lost at the coble o' bonnie Cargill."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She bored the boat in seven pairts,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wat she bored it wi' gude will;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there they got the bonnie lad's corpse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the kirk-shot o' bonnie Cargill.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O a' the keys o' bonnie Stobha',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wat they at his belt did hing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a' the keys of bonnie Stobha',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They now ly low into the stream.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A braver page into his age<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ne'er set a foot upon the plain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His father to his mother said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"O sae sune as we've wanted him!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I wat they had mair luve than this,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When they were young and at the scule;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But for his sake she wauked late,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bored the coble o' bonnie Cargill.<!-- Page 33 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There's ne'er a clean sark gae on my back,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor yet a kame gae in my hair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's neither coal nor candle licht<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shall shine in my bouer for ever mair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"At kirk nor market I'se ne'er be at,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor yet a blythe blink in my ee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's ne'er a ane shall say to anither,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That's the lassie gar'd the young man die."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Between the yetts o' bonnie Stobha',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the kirkstyle o' bonnie Cargill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is mony a man and mother's son<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That was at my luve's burial.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 34 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="OLD_ROBIN_OF_PORTINGALE" id="OLD_ROBIN_OF_PORTINGALE"></a>OLD ROBIN OF PORTINGALE.</h3> + +<p class="center">Percy's <i>Reliques of English Poetry</i>, iii. 88.</p> + + +<p>"From an ancient copy in the Editor's folio MS., +which was judged to require considerable corrections.</p> + +<p>"In the former edition the hero of this piece had +been called Sir Robin, but that title not being in the +MS. is now omitted.</p> + +<p>"Giles, steward to a rich old merchant trading to +Portugal, is qualified with the title of <i>Sir</i>, not as being +a knight, but rather, I conceive, as having received an +inferior order of priesthood." <span class="smcap">Percy.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let never again soe old a man<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Marrye soe yonge a wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As did old Robin of Portingale;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who may rue all the dayes of his life.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For the mayors daughter of Lin, God wott<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He chose her to his wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thought with her to have lived in love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But they fell to hate and strife.<!-- Page 35 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They scarce were in their wed-bed laid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And scarce was hee asleepe,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But upp shee rose, and forth shee goes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the steward, and gan to weepe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sleepe you, wake you, faire Sir Gyles?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or be you not within?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleepe you, wake you, faire Sir Gyles,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Arise and let me inn."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O I am waking, sweete," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Sweete ladye, what is your will?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I have <a name="LNanchor_III_14_19" id="LNanchor_III_14_19"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_14_19" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">onbethought</a> me of a wile<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How my wed lord weel spill.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Twenty-four good knights," shee sayes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That dwell about this towne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even twenty-four of my next cozens<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will helpe to dinge him downe."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All that beheard his litle footepage,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As he watered his masters steed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for his masters sad perille<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His verry heart did bleed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He mourned, sighed and wept full sore;<br /></span> +<!-- Page 36 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span><span class="i2">I sweare by the holy roode,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The teares he for his master wept<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Were <a name="LNanchor_III_14_32" id="LNanchor_III_14_32"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_14_32" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">blent</a> water and bloude.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And that beheard his deare master<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As he stood at his garden pale:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sayes, "Ever alacke, my litle foot-page,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">What causes thee to wail?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hath any one done to thee wronge,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Any of thy fellowes here?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or is any of thy good friends dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That thou shedst manye a teare?<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Or, if it be my head bookes-man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Aggrieved he shal bee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For no man here within my howse<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shall doe wrong unto thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O it is not your head bookes-man,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor none of his degree:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, <a name="LNanchor_III_14_47" id="LNanchor_III_14_47"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_14_47" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">on to-morrow</a> ere it be noone<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All deemed to die are yee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And of that bethank your head steward,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And thank your gay ladye."<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If this be true, my litle foot-page,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The heyre of my land thoust bee:"<!-- Page 37 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If it be not true, my dear master,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">No good death let me die:"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"If it be not true, thou litle foot-page,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A dead corse shalt thou bee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O call now downe my faire ladye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O call her downe to mee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tell my ladye gay how sicke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And like to die I bee."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Downe then came his ladye faire,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All clad in purple and pall:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rings that were on her fingers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cast light thorrow the hall.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What is your will, my own wed-lord?<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"What is your will with mee?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O see, my ladye deere, how sicke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And like to die I bee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And thou be sicke, my own wed-lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Soe sore it grieveth me:<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But my five maydens and myselfe<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will make the bedde for thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And at the waking of your first sleepe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We will a hott drinke make;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at the waking of your <a name="LNanchor_III_14_75" id="LNanchor_III_14_75"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_14_75" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">next</a> sleepe,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your sorrowes we will slake."<!-- Page 38 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He put a silk cote on his backe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And mail of manye a fold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hee putt a steele cap on his head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was gilt with good red gold.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He layd a bright browne sword by his side,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And another att his feete:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">[And twentye good knights he placed at hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To watch him in his sleepe.]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And about the middle time of the night,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Came twentye-four traitours inn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir Giles he was the foremost man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The leader of that ginn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Old Robin with his bright browne sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sir Gyles head soon did winn;<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And scant of all those twenty-four<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Went out one quick agenn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">None save only a litle foot-page,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Crept forth at a window of stone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he had two armes when he came in,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he went back with one.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Upp then came that ladie gaye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With torches burning bright;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She thought to have brought Sir Gyles a drinke,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 39 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span><span class="i2">Butt she found her owne wedd knight.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The first thinge that she stumbled on<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It was Sir Gyles his foote;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sayes, "Ever alacke, and woe is mee!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Here lyes my sweete hart-roote."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The next thinge that she stumbled on<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">It was Sir Gyles his heade;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sayes, "Ever alacke, and woe is me!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Heere lyes my true love deade."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hee cutt the pappes beside her brest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And didd her body spille;<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He cutt the eares beside her heade,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bade her love her fille.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He called up then up his litle foot-page,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And made him there his heyre;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sayd, "Henceforth my worldlye goodes,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And countrie I forsweare."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_III_14_117" id="LNanchor_III_14_117"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_14_117" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">He shope the crosse on his right shoulder</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the white <a name="LNanchor_III_14_118" id="LNanchor_III_14_118"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_14_118" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">clothe</a> and the redde,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And went him into the holy land,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wheras Christ was quicke and dead.<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_III_14_19" id="Linenote_III_14_19"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_14_19" title="link to line number">19</a>, unbethought.</p> + +<p>MS. <a name="Linenote_III_14_32" id="Linenote_III_14_32"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_14_32" title="link to line number">32</a>, blend.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_III_14_47" id="Linenote_III_14_47"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_14_47" title="link to line number">47</a>, or to-morrow.</p> + +<p>MS. <a name="Linenote_III_14_75" id="Linenote_III_14_75"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_14_75" title="link to line number">75</a>, first.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_III_14_117" id="Linenote_III_14_117"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_14_117" title="link to line number">117</a>. Every person who went on a Croisade to the Holy +Land usually wore a cross on his upper garment, on the right +shoulder, as a badge of his profession. Different nations +were distinguished by crosses of different colors: the English +wore white, the French red, &c. This circumstance seems +to be confounded in the ballad. <span class="smcap">Percy.</span></p> + +<p>MS. <a name="Linenote_III_14_118" id="Linenote_III_14_118"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_14_118" title="link to line number">118</a>, fleshe.</p> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 40 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="FAUSE_FOODRAGE" id="FAUSE_FOODRAGE"></a>FAUSE FOODRAGE.</h3> + +<p class="center">First published in <i>Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border</i>, iii. 220.</p> + + +<p>"This ballad has been popular in many parts of +Scotland. It is chiefly given from Mrs. Brown of +Falkland's MSS. The expression,</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p> +"The boy stared wild like a gray goss-hawk," <i>v.</i> 31,<br /> +</p></div> + +<p>strongly resembles that in <i>Hardyknute</i>,</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p> +"Norse e'en like gray goss-hawk stared wild;"<br /> +</p></div> + +<p>a circumstance which led the Editor to make the +strictest inquiry into the authenticity of the song. But +every doubt was removed by the evidence of a lady +of high rank, who not only recollected the ballad, as +having amused her infancy, but could repeat many of +the verses, particularly those beautiful stanzas from the +20th to the 25th. The Editor is, therefore, compelled +to believe, that the author of <i>Hardyknute</i> copied the +old ballad, if the coincidence be not altogether accidental." <span class="smcap">Scott.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">King Easter has courted her for her lands,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">King Wester for her fee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">King Honour for her comely face,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And for her fair bodie.<!-- Page 41 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They had not been four months married,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I have heard them tell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until the nobles of the land<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Against them did rebel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And they cast kevils them amang,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And kevils them between;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they cast kevils them amang,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wha suld gae kill the king.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O some said yea, and some said nay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Their words did not agree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till up and got him, Fause Foodrage,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And swore it suld be he.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When bells were rung, and mass was sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a' men bound to bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">King Honour and his gay ladye<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In a high chamber were laid.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up and raise him, Fause Foodrage,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When a' were fast asleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And slew the porter in his lodge,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That watch and ward did keep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O four and twenty silver keys<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hang hie upon a pin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And aye as ae door he did unlock,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He has fasten'd it him behind.<!-- Page 42 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up and raise him, King Honour,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says—"What means a' this din?<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or what's the matter, Fause Foodrage,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or wha has loot you in?"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O ye my errand weel sall learn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before that I depart."—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then drew a knife, baith lang and sharp,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And pierced him to the heart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up and got the Queen hersell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fell low down on her knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O spare my life, now, Fause Foodrage!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For I never injured thee.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O spare my life, now, Fause Foodrage!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Until I lighter be!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And see gin it be lad or lass,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">King Honour has left me wi'."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O gin it be a lass," he says,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Weel nursed it sall be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But gin it be a lad bairn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He sall be hanged hie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I winna spare for his tender age,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor yet for his hie, hie kin;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But soon as e'er he born is,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He sall mount the gallows pin."<!-- Page 43 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O four-and-twenty valiant knights<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Were set the Queen to guard;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And four stood aye at her bour door,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To keep both watch and ward.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But when the time drew near an end,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That she suld lighter be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She cast about to find a wile,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To set her body free.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O she has birled these merry young men<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With the ale but and the wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until they were a' deadly drunk<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As any wild-wood swine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O narrow, narrow is this window,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And big, big am I grown!"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet through the might of Our Ladye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Out at it she is gone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She wander'd up, she wander'd down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She wander'd out and in;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, at last, into the very swine's stythe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Queen brought forth a son.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then they cast kevils them amang,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which suld gae seek the Queen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the kevil fell upon Wise William,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he sent his wife for him.<!-- Page 44 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O when she saw Wise William's wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Queen fell on her knee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Win up, win up, madam!" she says:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"What needs this courtesie?"—<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O out o' this I winna rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till a boon ye grant to me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To change your lass for this lad bairn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">King Honour left me wi'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And ye maun learn my gay goss-hawk<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Right weel to breast a steed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I sall learn your turtle dow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As weel to write and read.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And ye maun learn my gay goss-hawk<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To wield both bow and brand;<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I sall learn your turtle dow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To lay gowd wi' her hand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"At kirk and market when we meet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We'll dare make nae avowe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But—'Dame, how does my gay goss-hawk?'<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Madame, how does my dow?'"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When days were gane, and years came on,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wise William he thought lang;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he has ta'en King Honour's son<br /></span> +<!-- Page 45 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span><span class="i2">A-hunting for to gang.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It sae fell out, at this hunting,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon a simmer's day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That they came by a bonny castell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Stood on a sunny brae.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O dinna ye see that bonny castell,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' halls and towers sae fair?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin ilka man had back his ain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of it you suld be heir."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"How I suld be heir of that castell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In sooth, I canna see;<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For it belangs to Fause Foodrage,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he is na kin to me."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O gin ye suld kill him, Fause Foodrage,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You would do but what was right;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I wot he kill'd your father dear,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or ever ye saw the light.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And gin ye suld kill him, Fause Foodrage,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There is no man durst you blame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For he keeps your mother a prisoner,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she darna take ye hame."—<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The boy stared wild like a gray goss-hawk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says,—"What may a' this mean?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My boy, ye are King Honour's son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And your mother's our lawful queen."<!-- Page 46 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O gin I be King Honour's son,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">By our Ladye I swear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This night I will that traitor slay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And relieve my mother dear!"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He has set his bent bow to his breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And leaped the castell wa';<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soon he has seized on Fause Foodrage,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wha loud for help 'gan ca'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O haud your tongue, now, Fause Foodrage,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Frae me ye shanna flee;"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Syne pierced him through the fause, fause heart,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And set his mother free.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he has rewarded Wise William<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' the best half o' his land;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sae has he the turtle dow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' the truth o' his right hand.<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 47 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="BONNIE_ANNIE" id="BONNIE_ANNIE"></a>BONNIE ANNIE.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Kinloch's <i>Ancient Scottish Ballads</i>, p. 123.</p> + + +<p>"There is a prevalent belief among seafaring people, +that if a person who has committed any heinous crime +be on ship-board, the vessel, as if conscious of its guilty +burden, becomes unmanageable, and will not sail till +the offender be removed: to discover whom, they +usually resort to the trial of those on board, by casting +lots; and the individual upon whom the lot falls, is +declared the criminal, it being believed that Divine +Providence interposes in this manner to point out the +guilty person."—<span class="smcap">Kinloch.</span></p> + +<p>Motherwell is inclined to think this an Irish ballad, +though popular in Scotland.</p> + +<p>With Bonnie Annie may be compared <i>Jon Rimaardsöns +Skriftemaal</i>, <i>Danske Viser</i>, ii. 220; or, <i>Herr Peders +Sjöresa, Svenska Folk-Visor</i>, ii. 31, Arwiddson, ii. +5 (translated in <i>Literature and Romance of Northern +Europe</i>, 276).</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There was a rich lord, and he lived in Forfar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had a fair lady, and one only dochter.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O she was fair, O dear! she was bonnie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A ship's captain courted her to be his honey.<!-- Page 48 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There cam a ship's captain out owre the sea sailing,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He courted this young thing till he got her wi' bairn:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll steal your father's gowd, and your mother's money,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'll mak ye a lady in Ireland bonnie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's stown her father's gowd and her mother's money,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But she was never a lady in Ireland bonnie.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There's fey fowk in our ship, she winna sail for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's fey fowk in our ship, she winna sail for me."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They've casten black bullets twice six and forty,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ae the black bullet fell on bonnie Annie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll tak me in your arms twa, lo, lift me cannie,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Throw me out owre board, your ain dear Annie."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He has tane her in his arms twa, lo, lifted her cannie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He has laid her on a bed of down, his ain dear Annie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What can a woman do, love, I'll do for ye;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Muckle can a woman do, ye canna do for me.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lay about, steer about, lay our ship cannie,<span class="linenum">21</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do all you can to save my dear Annie."<!-- Page 49 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I've laid about, steer'd about, laid about cannie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But all I can do, she winna sail for me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye'll tak her in your arms twa, lo, lift her cannie,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And throw her out owre board, your ain dear Annie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He has tane her in his arms twa, lo, lifted her cannie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He has thrown her out owre board, his ain dear Annie:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the ship sailed, bonnie Annie she swam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she was at Ireland as soon as them.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They made his love a coffin of the gowd sae yellow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_III_16_32" id="LNanchor_III_16_32"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_16_32" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">And they buried her deep on the high banks of Yarrow</a>.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_III_16_32" id="Linenote_III_16_32"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_16_32" title="link to line number">32</a>. The last two lines are derived from Motherwell, p. xcix. +The text in Kinloch is corrupt, and stands thus:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He made his love a coffin off the Goats of Yerrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And buried his bonnie love doun in a sea valley.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 50 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="WILLIAM_GUISEMAN" id="WILLIAM_GUISEMAN"></a>WILLIAM GUISEMAN.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Kinloch's <i>Ancient Scottish Ballads</i>, p. 156.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"My name is William Guiseman,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In London I do dwell;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I have committed murder,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And that is known right well;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I have committed murder,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">And that is known right well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And it's for mine offence I must die.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"I lov'd a neighbour's dochter,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And with her I did lie;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I did dissemble with her<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Myself to satisfy;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I did dissemble with her<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Myself to satisfy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And it's for mine offence I must die.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"Sae cunningly's I kept her,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Until the fields war toom;<!-- Page 51 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae cunningly's I trysted her<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Unto yon shade o' broom;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And syne I took my wills o' her,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And then I flang her doun,<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And it's for mine offence I must die.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"Sae cunningly's I killed her,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Who should have been my wife;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae cursedly's I killed her,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And with my cursed knife;<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae cursedly's I killed her,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Who should have been my wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And it's for mine offence I must die.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"Six days she lay in murder,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Before that she was found;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Six days she lay in murder,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Upon the cursed ground;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Six days she lay in murder,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Before that she was found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And it's for mine offence I must die.<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"O all the neighbours round about,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">They said it had been I;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I put my foot on gude shipboard,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The county to defy;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The ship she wadna sail again,<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">But hoisted to and fro,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And it's for mine offence I must die.<!-- Page 52 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"O up bespak the skipper-boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I wat he spak too high;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'There's sinful men amongst us,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">The seas will not obey;'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O up bespak the skipper-boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I wat he spak too high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And it's for mine offence I must die.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"O we cuist cavels us amang,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">The cavel fell on me;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O we cuist cavels us amang,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The cavel fell on me;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O we cuist cavels us amang,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The cavel fell on me,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And it's for mine offence I must die.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"I had a loving mother<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Who of me took gret care;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She wad hae gien the gold sae red,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To have bought me from that snare;<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But the gold could not be granted,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The gallows pays a share,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And it's for mine offence I must die."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 53 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_ENCHANTED_RING" id="THE_ENCHANTED_RING"></a>THE ENCHANTED RING</h3> + + +<p>Buchan's <i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i>, i. 169. +Annexed is a fragment published by Jamieson, under +the title of <i>Bonny Bee-Ho'm</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In Lauderdale I chanc'd to walk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And heard a lady's moan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lamenting for her dearest dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And aye she cried, ohon!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sure never a maid that e'er drew breath<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Had harder fate than me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd never a lad but one on earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They forc'd him to the sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The ale shall ne'er be brewin o' malt,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Neither by sea nor land,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ever mair shall cross my hause,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till my love comes to hand.<!-- Page 54 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A handsome lad wi' shoulders broad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gold yellow was his hair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None of our Scottish youths on earth<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That with him could compare.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She thought her love was gone to sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And landed in Bahome;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he was in a quiet chamber,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hearing his lady's moan.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Why make ye all this moan, lady?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Why make ye all this moan?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'm deep sworn on a book,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I must go to Bahome.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Traitors false for to subdue,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">O'er seas I'll make me boun',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That have trepan'd our kind Scotchmen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like dogs to ding them down."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Weell, take this ring, this royal thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whose virtue is unknown;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">As lang's this ring's your body on,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your blood shall ne'er be drawn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But if this ring shall fade or stain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or change to other hue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come never mair to fair Scotland,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">If ye're a lover true."<!-- Page 55 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then this couple they did part<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With a sad heavy moan;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wind was fair, the ship was rare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They landed in Bahome.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But in that place they had not been<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A month but barely one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till <a name="LNanchor_III_18a_43" id="LNanchor_III_18a_43"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_18a_43" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">he look'd</a> on his gay gold ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And riven was the stone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Time after this was not expir'd<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A month but scarcely three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till black and ugly was the ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><a name="LNanchor_III_18a_48" id="LNanchor_III_18a_48"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_18a_48" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">And the stone</a> was burst in three.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Fight on, fight on, you merry men all,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With you I'll fight no more;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will gang to some holy place,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pray to the King of Glore."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then to the chapel he is gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And knelt most piteouslie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For seven days and seven nights,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till blood ran frae his knee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll take my jewels that's in Bahome,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And deal them liberallie,<!-- Page 56 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To young that cannot, and old that mannot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The blind that does not see.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Give maist to women in child-bed laid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Can neither fecht nor flee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hope she's in the heavens high,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That died for love of me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The knights they wrang their white fingers,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The ladies tore their hair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The women that ne'er had children born,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In swoon they down fell there.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But in what way the knight expir'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">No tongue will e'er declare;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">So this doth end my mournful song,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From me ye'll get nae mair.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_III_18a_43" id="Linenote_III_18a_43"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_18a_43" title="link to line number">43</a>, they look'd.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_III_18a_48" id="Linenote_III_18a_48"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_18a_48" title="link to line number">48</a>, And stone.</p> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 57 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="BONNY_BEE-HOM" id="BONNY_BEE-HOM"></a>BONNY BEE-HO'M.</h3> + + +<p>Jamieson's <i>Popular Ballads</i>, i. 184, from Mrs. +Brown's MS., the interpolations of the editor being +omitted.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By Arthur's dale as late I went,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I heard a heavy moan;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I heard a lady lamenting sair.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ay she cried "ohon!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ohon, alas! what shall I do,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tormented night and day?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I never loved a love but ane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And now he's gone away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But I will do for my true love<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What ladies would think sair;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For seven years shall come and gae,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ere a kaime gae in my hair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There shall neither a shoe gae on my foot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor a kaime gae in my hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor ever a coal or candle light<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shine in my bower nae mair."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She thought her love had been on sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fast sailing to Bee-Ho'm;<!-- Page 58 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he was still in a quiet chamber,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hearing his lady's moan.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Be hush'd, be hush'd, my lady dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I pray thee moan not so;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I am deep sworn on a book<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To Bee-Ho'm for to go."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's gien him a chain o' the beaten goud,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a ring with a ruby stone:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"As lang as this chain your body binds,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your blood can never be drawn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But gin this ring should fade or fail,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or the stone should change its hue,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be sure your love is dead and gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or she has proved untrue."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He had not been at bonny Bee-Ho'm<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A twelvemonth and a day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till looking on his gay gold ring,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The stone grew dark and gray.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O ye tak my riches to Bee-Ho'm,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And deal them presentlie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the young that canna, the old that manna,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The blind that downa see."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now Death has come intill his bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And split his heart in twain:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sae their twa sauls flew up to heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And there shall ever remain.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 59 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_THREE_RAVENS" id="THE_THREE_RAVENS"></a>THE THREE RAVENS.</h3> + + +<p>From Ritson's <i>Ancient English Songs</i>, ii. 53. It is +there reprinted from Ravenscroft's <i>Melismata</i>, 1611. +<a href="#THE_TWA_CORBIES">Another copy follows</a>, taken from Scott's <i>Minstrelsy</i>. +Motherwell has recast the ballad in modern style, p. 7 +of his collection.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There were three ravens sat on a tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Downe, a downe, hay downe, hay downe</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There were three ravens sat on a tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a downe</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There were three ravens sat on a tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They were as blacke as they might be,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a downe, derrie, derrie, derrie, downe, downe</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The one of them said to his mate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Where shall we our breakefast take?"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Downe in yonder greene field,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There lies a knight slain under his shield.<!-- Page 60 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"His hounds they lie downe at his feete,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So well they their master keepe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"His haukes they flie so eagerly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's no fowle dare him com nie."<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Downe there comes a fallow doe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As great with yong as she might goe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She lift up his bloudy hed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And kist his wounds that were so red.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She got him up upon her backe,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And carried him to earthen lake.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She buried him before the prime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She was dead herselfe ere even-song time.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">God send every gentleman,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such haukes, such houndes, and such a leman.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 61 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_TWA_CORBIES" id="THE_TWA_CORBIES"></a>THE TWA CORBIES.</h3> + + +<p>From <i>Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border</i>, ii. 359. It +was communicated to Scott by Mr. Sharpe, as written +down, from tradition, by a lady.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As I was walking all alane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I heard twa corbies making a mane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tane unto the t'other say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Where sall we gang and dine to-day?"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"In behint yon auld fail dyke,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wot there lies a new-slain knight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And naebody kens that he lies there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"His hound is to the hunting gane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His hawk, to fetch the wild-fowl hame,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">His lady's ta'en another mate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So we may mak our dinner sweet.<!-- Page 62 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'll pick out his bonny blue een:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">We'll theek our nest when it grows bare.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Mony a one for him makes mane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But nane sall ken where he is gane:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er his white banes, when they are bare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wind sall blaw for evermair."—<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 63 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_DOWIE_DENS_OF_YARROW" id="THE_DOWIE_DENS_OF_YARROW"></a>THE DOWIE DENS OF YARROW.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border</i>, iii. 143.</p> + + +<p>"This ballad, which is a very great favourite among +the inhabitants of Ettrick Forest, is universally believed +to be founded in fact. I found it easy to collect a variety +of copies; but very difficult indeed to select from +them such a collated edition as might, in any degree, +suit the taste of 'these more light and giddy-paced +times.'</p> + +<p>"Tradition places the event, recorded in the song, +very early; and it is probable that the ballad was composed +soon afterwards, although the language has been +gradually modernized, in the course of its transmission +to us, through the inaccurate channel of oral tradition. +The bard does not relate particulars, but barely the +striking outlines of a fact, apparently so well known +when he wrote, as to render minute detail as unnecessary +as it is always tedious and unpoetical.</p> + +<p>"The hero of the ballad was a knight of great +bravery, called Scott, who is said to have resided at +Kirkhope, or Oakwood Castle, and is, in tradition, +termed the Baron of Oakwood. The estate of Kirkhope +belonged anciently to the Scotts of Harden:<!-- Page 64 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +Oakwood is still their property, and has been so from +time immemorial. The Editor was, therefore, led to +suppose that the hero of the ballad might have been +identified with John Scott, sixth son of the Laird of +Harden, murdered in Ettrick Forest by his kinsmen, +the Scotts of Gilmanscleugh. (See notes to <i>Jamie +Telfer</i>.) This appeared the more probable, as the common +people always affirm that this young man was +treacherously slain, and that, in evidence thereof, his +body remained uncorrupted for many years; so that +even the roses on his shoes seemed as fresh as when he +was first laid in the family vault at Hassendean. But +from a passage in Nisbet's Heraldry, he now believes +the ballad refers to a duel fought at Deucharswyre, of +which Annan's Treat is a part, betwixt John Scott of +Tushielaw and his brother-in-law, Walter Scott, third +son of Robert of Thirlestane, in which the latter was +slain.</p> + +<p>"In ploughing Annan's Treat, a huge monumental +stone, with an inscription, was discovered; but being +rather scratched than engraved, and the lines being +run through each other, it is only possible to read one +or two Latin words. It probably records the event of +the combat. The person slain was the male ancestor +of the present Lord Napier.</p> + +<p>"Tradition affirms, that the hero of the song (be +he who he may) was murdered by the brother, either +of his wife or betrothed bride. The alleged cause of +malice was the lady's father having proposed to endow +her with half of his property, upon her marriage with +a warrior of such renown. The name of the murderer +is said to have been Annan, and the place of combat is +still called Annan's Treat. It is a low muir, on the<!-- Page 65 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +banks of the Yarrow, lying to the west of Yarrow Kirk. +Two tall unhewn masses of stone are erected, about +eighty yards distant from each other; and the least +child, that can herd a cow, will tell the passenger, that +there lie 'the two lords, who were slain in single +combat.'</p> + +<p>"It will be, with many readers, the greatest recommendation +of these verses, that they are supposed to +have suggested to Mr. Hamilton of Bangour, the modern +ballad, beginning,</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p> +'Busk ye, busk ye, my bonny bonny bride.'<br /> +</p></div> + +<p>"A fragment, apparently regarding the story of the +following ballad, but in a different measure, occurs in +Mr. Herd's MS., and runs thus:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'When I look east, my heart is sair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when I look west, it's mair and mair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For then I see the braes o' Yarrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there, for aye, I lost my marrow.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>We have added an uncollated copy from Buchan's +<i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i>. Another is furnished +by Motherwell, <i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. 252. Some of Scott's +verses are also found in Herd's fragment, (<i>Scottish +Songs</i>, i. 202,) and Buchan's <i>Haughs o' Yarrow</i>, ii. 211. +<i>The Dowy Den</i>, in Evans's collection, iii. 342, is the +<i>caput mortuum</i> of this spirited ballad.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Late at e'en, drinking the wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ere they paid the lawing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They set a combat them between,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To fight it in the dawing.<!-- Page 66 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O stay at hame, my noble lord,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">O stay at hame, my marrow!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My cruel brother will you betray<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the dowie houms of Yarrow."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O fare ye weel, my ladye gaye!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O fare ye weel, my Sarah!<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I maun gae, though I ne'er return<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Frae the dowie banks o' Yarrow."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She kiss'd his cheek, she kaim'd his hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As oft she had done before, O;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She belted him with his noble brand,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he's away to Yarrow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As he gaed up <a name="LNanchor_III_20a_17" id="LNanchor_III_20a_17"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_20a_17" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">the Tennies</a> bank,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wot he gaed wi' sorrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till, down in a den, he spied nine arm'd men,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the dowie houms of Yarrow.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O come ye here to part your land,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The bonnie Forest thorough?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or come ye here to wield your brand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the dowie houms of Yarrow?"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I come not here to part my land,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And neither to beg nor borrow;<!-- Page 67 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I come to wield my noble brand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the bonnie banks of Yarrow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If I see all, ye're nine to ane;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And that's an unequal marrow;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet will I fight, while lasts my brand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the bonnie banks of Yarrow."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Four has he hurt, and five has slain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the bloody braes of Yarrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till that stubborn knight came him behind,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ran his body thorough.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gae hame, gae hame, good-brother John,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And tell your sister Sarah,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To come and lift her leafu' lord;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He's sleepin sound on Yarrow."—<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yestreen I dream'd a dolefu' dream;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I fear there will be sorrow!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I dream'd I pu'd the heather green,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' my true love, on Yarrow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O gentle wind, that bloweth south,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">From where my love repaireth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Convey a kiss from his dear mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And tell me how he fareth!<!-- Page 68 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But in the glen strive armed men;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They've wrought me dole and sorrow;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">They've slain—the comeliest knight they've slain—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He bleeding lies on Yarrow."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As she sped down yon high high hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She gaed wi' dole and sorrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the den spied ten slain men,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the dowie banks of Yarrow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She kissed his cheek, she kaim'd his hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She searched his wounds all thorough,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She kiss'd them, till her lips grew red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the dowie houms of Yarrow.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now haud your tongue, my daughter dear!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For a' this breeds but sorrow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll wed ye to a better lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than him ye lost on Yarrow."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O haud your tongue, my father dear!<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye mind me but of sorrow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fairer rose did never bloom<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than now lies cropp'd on Yarrow."<br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_III_20a_17" id="Linenote_III_20a_17"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_20a_17" title="link to line number">17</a>. <i>The Tennies</i> is the name of a farm of the Duke of +Buccleuch's, a little below Yarrow Kirk.</p> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 69 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_BRAES_O_YARROW" id="THE_BRAES_O_YARROW"></a>THE BRAES O' YARROW.</h3> + + +<p>From Buchan's <i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i>, +ii. 203. Repeated in the xviith volume of the Percy +Society Publications.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ten lords sat drinking at the wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Intill a morning early;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There fell a combat them among,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It must be fought,—nae parly.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O stay at hame, my ain gude lord,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">O stay, my ain dear marrow."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Sweetest min', I will be thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dine wi' you to-morrow."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's kiss'd his lips, and comb'd his hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As she had done before, O;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gied him a brand down by his side,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he is on to Yarrow.<!-- Page 70 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As he gaed ower yon dowie knowe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As aft he'd dune before, O;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nine armed men lay in a den,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upo' the braes o' Yarrow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O came ye here to hunt or hawk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As ye hae dune before, O?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or came ye here to wiel' your brand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upo' the braes o' Yarrow?"<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I came na here to hunt nor hawk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I hae dune before, O;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I came here to wiel' my brand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon the braes o' Yarrow."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Four he hurt, and five he slew,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till down it fell himsell, O;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There stood a fause lord him behin',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who thrust him thro' body and mell, O.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gae hame, gae hame, my brother John,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And tell your sister sorrow;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your mother to come take up her son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Aff o' the braes o' Yarrow."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As he gaed ower yon high, high hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As he had dune before, O;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There he met his sister dear,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Came rinnin fast to Yarrow.<!-- Page 71 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I dreamt a dream last night," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I wish it binna sorrow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_III_20b_39" id="LNanchor_III_20b_39"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_20b_39" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">I dreamt I was pu'ing the heather green</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upo' the braes o' Yarrow."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'll read your dream, sister," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I'll read it into sorrow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye're bidden gae take up your love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He's sleeping sound on Yarrow."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's torn the ribbons frae her head,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">They were baith thick and narrow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's kilted up her green claithing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she's awa' to Yarrow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's taen him in her arms twa,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And gien him kisses thorough,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wi' her tears she bath'd his wounds,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upo' the braes o' Yarrow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her father looking ower his castle wa',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beheld his daughter's sorrow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O had your tongue, daughter," he says,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"And let be a' your sorrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll wed you wi' a better lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than he that died on Yarrow."<!-- Page 72 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O had your tongue, father," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"And let be till to-morrow;<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A better lord there cou'dna be<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than he that died on Yarrow."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She kiss'd his lips, and comb'd his hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As she had dune before, O;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then wi' a crack her heart did brack,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon the braes o' Yarrow.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_III_20b_39" id="Linenote_III_20b_39"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_20b_39" title="link to line number">39</a>. To dream of any thing green is regarded in Scotland +as unlucky.</p> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 73 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="SIR_JAMES_THE_ROSE" id="SIR_JAMES_THE_ROSE"></a>SIR JAMES THE ROSE.</h3> + + +<p>Pinkerton first published this piece in his <i>Scottish +Tragic Ballads</i>, p. 61. In a note, it is said to have +been taken "from a modern edition in one sheet, 12mo. +after the old copy." Motherwell gives another version +"as it occurs in early stall prints," (<i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. 321,) +and suspects a few conjectural emendations in Pinkerton's +text. The passage from v. 51 to v. 59 is apparently +defective, and has, probably, been tampered +with; but Pinkerton's copy is on the whole much +better than Motherwell's, or than Whitelaw's, (<i>Scottish +Ballads</i>, 39,) which professes to be given chiefly from +oral recitations.</p> + +<p>Michael Bruce's <i>Sir James the Rose</i> will be found in +another part of this collection. In Caw's <i>Museum</i> +(p. 290) is a ballad in the worst possible taste, styled +<i>Elfrida and Sir James of Perth</i>, which seems to be a +mere disfiguration of Bruce's.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O heard ye o' Sir James the Rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The young heir o' Buleighan?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For he has kill'd a gallant squire,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whase friends are out to tak him.<!-- Page 74 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now he has gane to the house o' Mar,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whar nane might seik to find him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see his dear he did repair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Weining she wold befreind him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Whar are ye gaing Sir James," she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"O whar awa are ye riding?"<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I maun be bound to a foreign land,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And now I'm under hiding.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Whar sall I gae, whar sall I rin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whar sall I rin to lay me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I ha kill'd a gallant squire,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And his friends seik to slay me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O gae ye down to yon laigh house,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I sall pay there your lawing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as I am your leman trew,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll meet ye at the dawing."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He turned him richt and round about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And rowd him in his brechan:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And laid him doun to tak a sleip,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the lawlands o' Buleighan.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He was nae weil gane out o' sicht,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor was he past Milstrethen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whan four and twenty belted knichts<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cam riding owr the Leathen.<!-- Page 75 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O ha ye seen Sir James the Rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The young heir o' Buleighan?<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For he has kill'd a gallant squire,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And we are sent to tak him."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yea, I ha seen Sir James," she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"He past by here on Monday;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin the steed be swift that he rides on,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He's past the Hichts of Lundie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But as wi speid they rade awa,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She leudly cryd behind them;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Gin ye'll gie me a worthy meid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll tell ye whar to find him."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O tell fair maid, and on our band,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye'se get his purse and brechan."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He's in the bank aboon the mill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the lawlands o' Buleighan."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Than out and spak Sir John the Graham,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who had the charge a keiping,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It's neer be said, my stalwart feres,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We kill'd him whan a sleiping."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They seized his braid sword and his targe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And closely him surrounded:<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O pardon! mercy! gentlemen,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He then fou loudly sounded.<!-- Page 76 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sic as ye gae, sic ye sall hae,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nae grace we shaw to thee can."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Donald my man, wait till I fa,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ye sall hae my brechan;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye'll get my purse thouch fou o' gowd<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To tak me to Loch Lagan."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Syne they take out his bleiding heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And set it on a speir;<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then tuke it to the house o' Mar,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And shawd it to his deir.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"We cold nae gie Sir James's purse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We cold nae gie his brechan;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ye sall ha his bleeding heart,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bot and his bleeding tartan."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sir James the Rose, O for thy sake<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My heart is now a breaking,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Curs'd be the day I wrocht thy wae,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thou brave heir of Buleighan!"<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up she raise, and furth she gaes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And, in that hour o' tein,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She wanderd to the dowie glen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And nevir mair was sein.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 77 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="GRAEME_AND_BEWICK" id="GRAEME_AND_BEWICK"></a>GRĈME AND BEWICK.</h3> + + +<p>From <i>Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border</i>, iii. 69. A +single improved reading is adopted from a Newcastle +chap-book.</p> + +<p>"Given, in the first edition, from the recitation of a +gentleman, who professed to have forgotten some verses. +These have, in the present edition, been partly restored, +from a copy obtained by the recitation of an +ostler in Carlisle, which has also furnished some slight +alterations."</p> + +<p>"The ballad is remarkable, as containing, probably, +the very latest allusion to the institution of brotherhood +in arms, which was held so sacred in the days of +chivalry, and whose origin may be traced up to the +Scythian ancestors of Odin." <span class="smcap">Scott.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gude Lord Grĉme is to Carlisle gane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sir Robert Bewick there met he,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And arm in arm to the wine they did go,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And they drank till they were baith merrie.<!-- Page 78 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gude Lord Grĉme has ta'en up the cup,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Sir Robert Bewick, and here's to thee!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And here's to our twae sons at hame!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For they like us best in our ain countrie."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O were your son a lad like mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And learn'd some books that he could read,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">They might hae been twae brethren bauld,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And they might hae bragged the Border side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But your son's a lad, and he is but bad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And billie to my son he canna be;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<a name="LNanchor_III_22_15" id="LNanchor_III_22_15"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_22_15" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">I sent</a> him to the schools, and he wadna learn;<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><a name="LNanchor_III_22_16" id="LNanchor_III_22_16"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_22_16" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">I bought</a> him books, and he wadna read;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But my blessing shall he never earn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till I see how his arm can defend his head."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gude Lord Grĉme has a reckoning call'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A reckoning then called he;<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he paid a crown, and it went roun',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It was all for the gude wine <a name="LNanchor_III_22_22" id="LNanchor_III_22_22"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_22_22" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">and free</a>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he has to the stable gane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where there stude thirty steeds and three;<!-- Page 79 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's ta'en his ain horse amang them a',<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And hame he rade sae manfullie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Welcome, my auld father!" said Christie Grĉme,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"But where sae lang frae hame were ye?"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It's I hae been at Carlisle town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a baffled man by thee I be.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I hae been at Carlisle town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where Sir Robert Bewick, he met me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He says ye're a lad, and ye are but bad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And billie to his son ye canna be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I sent ye to the schools, and ye wadna learn;<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I bought ye books, and ye wadna read;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therefore my blessing ye shall never earn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till I see with Bewick thou save thy head."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now, God forbid, my auld father,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ever sic a thing suld be!<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_III_22_41" id="LNanchor_III_22_41"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_22_41" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Billie Bewick was my master, and I was his scholar</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And aye sae weel as he learned me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O hald thy tongue, thou limmer loon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And of thy talking let me be!<!-- Page 80 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thou does na end me this quarrel soon,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">There is my glove, I'll fight wi' thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then Christie Grĉme he stooped low<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Unto the ground, you shall understand;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O father, put on your glove again,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The wind has blown it from your hand?"<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What's that thou says, thou limmer loon?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How dares thou stand to speak to me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thou do not end this quarrel soon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There's my right hand thou shalt fight with me."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then Christie Grĉme's to his chamber gane,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To consider weel what then should be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether he should fight with his auld father,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or with his billie Bewick, he.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If I suld kill my billie dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">God's blessing I shall never win;<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if I strike at my auld father,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I think 'twald be a mortal sin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But if I kill my billie dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It is God's will, so let it be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I make a vow, ere I gang frae hame,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That I shall be the next man's die."<!-- Page 81 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then he's put on's back a gude auld jack,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And on his head a cap of steel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sword and buckler by his side;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O gin he did not become them weel!<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We'll leave off talking of Christie Grĉme,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And talk of him again belive;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we will talk of bonny Bewick,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where he was teaching his scholars five.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When he had taught them well to fence,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And handle swords without any doubt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He took his sword under his arm,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he walk'd his father's close about.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He look'd atween him and the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a' to see what there might be,<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till he spied a man in armour bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was riding that way most hastilie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O wha is yon, that came this way,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae hastilie that hither came?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I think it be my brother dear,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I think it be young Christie Grĉme.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye're welcome here, my billie dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And thrice ye're welcome unto me!"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But I'm wae to say, I've seen the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When I am come to fight wi' thee.<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<!-- Page 82 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My father's gane to Carlisle town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' your father Bewick there met he:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He says I'm a lad, and I am but bad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a baffled man I trow I be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He sent me to schools, and I wadna learn;<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He gae me books, and I wadna read;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sae my father's blessing I'll never earn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till he see how my arm can guard my head."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O God forbid, my billie dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ever such a thing suld be!<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">We'll take three men on either side,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And see if we can our fathers agree."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O hald thy tongue, now, billie Bewick,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And of thy talking let me be!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if thou'rt a man, as I'm sure thou art,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come o'er the dyke, and fight wi' me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<a name="LNanchor_III_22_107" id="LNanchor_III_22_107"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_22_107" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">But I hae nae harness, billie, on my back</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As weel I see there is on thine."<!-- Page 83 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But as little harness as is on thy back,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As little, billie, shall be on mine."—<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then he's thrown aff his coat o' mail,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His cap of steel away flung he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He stuck his spear into the ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he tied his horse unto a tree.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then Bewick has thrown aff his cloak,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And's psalter-book frae's hand flung he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He laid his hand upon the dyke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ower he lap most manfullie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O they hae fought for twae lang hours;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When twae lang hours were come and gane,<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sweat drapp'd fast frae aff them baith,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But a drap of blude could not be seen.<!-- Page 84 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Till Grĉme gae Bewick an ackward stroke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ane ackward stroke strucken sickerlie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He has hit him under the left breast,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dead-wounded to the ground fell he.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Rise up, rise up, now, billie dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Arise and speak three words to me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether thou's gotten thy deadly wound,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or if God and good leeching may succour thee?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O horse, O horse, now, billie Grĉme,<span class="linenum">131</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And get thee far from hence with speed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And get thee out of this country,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That none may know who has done the deed."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O I have slain thee, billie Bewick,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">If this be true thou tellest to me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I made a vow, ere I came frae hame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That aye the next man I wad be."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He has pitch'd his sword in a moodie-hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he has leap'd twenty lang feet and three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on his ain sword's point he lap,<span class="linenum">141</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dead upon the ground fell he.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas then came up Sir Robert Bewick,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And his brave son alive saw he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Rise up, rise up, my son," he said,<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"For I think ye hae gotten the victorie."<!-- Page 85 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O hald your tongue, my father dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of your prideful talking let me be!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye might hae drunken your wine in peace,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And let me and my billie be.<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gae dig a grave, baith wide and deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a grave to hald baith him and me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But lay Christie Grĉme on the sunny side,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For I'm sure he wan the victorie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Alack! a wae!" auld Bewick cried,<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Alack! was I not much to blame?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm sure I've lost the liveliest lad<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That e'er was born unto my name."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Alack! a wae!" quo' gude Lord Grĉme,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I'm sure I hae lost the deeper lack!<span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I durst hae ridden the Border through,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Had Christie Grĉme been at my back.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Had I been led through Liddesdale,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And thirty horsemen guarding me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Christie Grĉme been at my back,<span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae soon as he had set me free!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I've lost my hopes, I've lost my joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I've lost the key but and the lock;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I durst hae ridden the world round,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Had Christie Grĉme been at my back."<span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_III_22_15" id="Linenote_III_22_15"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_22_15" title="link to line number">15</a>, Scott, Ye sent;</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_III_22_16" id="Linenote_III_22_16"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_22_16" title="link to line number">16</a>, Ye bought.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_III_22_22" id="Linenote_III_22_22"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_22_22" title="link to line number">22</a>. Newcastle C. B., and hay.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_III_22_41" id="Linenote_III_22_41"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_22_41" title="link to line number">41</a>, 42.</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p> +Shall I venture my body in field to fight<br /> +With a man that's faith and troth to me?<br /> +<br /> +N. C. B.<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<p><a name="Linenote_III_22_107" id="Linenote_III_22_107"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_22_107" title="link to line number">107</a>-118. Instead of this passage, the Newcastle copy has +the following stanzas:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He flang his cloak from off his shoulders,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His psalm-book from his pouch flang he,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He clapped his hand upon the hedge,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And o'er lap he right wantonly.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When Graham did see his bully come,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The salt tears stood long in his ee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Now needs must I say thou art a man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That dare venture thy body to fight with me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nay, I have a harness on my back;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I know that thou hast none on thine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But as little as thou hast on thy back,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As little shall there be on mine."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He flang his jacket from off his back,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His cap of steel from his head flang he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's taken his spear into his hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He's ty'd his horse unto a tree.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 86 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_LAMENT_OF_THE_BORDER_WIDOW" id="THE_LAMENT_OF_THE_BORDER_WIDOW"></a>THE LAMENT OF THE BORDER WIDOW.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border</i>, iii. 94.</p> + + +<p>This fragment was obtained from recitation in +Ettrick Forest, where it is said to refer to the execution +of Cockburne, of Henderland, a freebooter, +hanged by James V. over the gate of his own tower. +There is another version in Johnson's <i>Museum</i>, (<i>Oh +Ono Chrio</i>, p. 90,) which, Dr. Blacklock informed +Burns, was composed on the massacre of Glencoe. +But in fact, these verses seem to be, as Motherwell has +remarked, only a portion (expanded, indeed,) of <i>The +Famous Flower of Serving Men</i>: see vol. iv. p. 174.</p> + +<p>There are some verbal differences between Scott's +copy and the one in Chambers's <i>Scottish Songs</i>, i. 174.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My love he built me a bonny bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And clad it a' wi' lilye flour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A brawer bower ye ne'er did see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than my true love he built for me.<!-- Page 87 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There came a man, by middle day,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He spied his sport, and went away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And brought the King that very night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who brake my bower, and slew my knight.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He slew my knight, to me sae dear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He slew my knight, and poin'd his gear;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">My servants all for life did flee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And left me in extremitie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I sew'd his sheet, making my mane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I watch'd the corpse, myself alane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I watch'd his body, night and day;<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">No living creature came that way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I tuk his body on my back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whiles I gaed, and whiles I sat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I digg'd a grave, and laid him in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And happ'd him with the sod sae green.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But think na ye my heart was sair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I laid the moul' on his yellow hair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O think na ye my heart was wae,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I turn'd about, away to gae?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nae living man I'll love again,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since that my lovely knight is slain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wi' ae lock of his yellow hair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll chain my heart for ever mair.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 88 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="YOUNG_WATERS" id="YOUNG_WATERS"></a>YOUNG WATERS.</h3> + + +<p>First published on an octavo sheet, by Lady Jean +Home, about the middle of the last century, and from +this copy reprinted in Percy's <i>Reliques</i>, (ii. 227.) +Buchan has a version (i. 15) twenty-five stanzas +longer than the present, which is given in our Appendix. +This ballad has been supposed to refer to +the fate of the Earl of Murray, (see <i>post</i>, <i>The Bonny +Earl of Murray</i>.) The additional circumstances furnished +by Buchan's copy, however, have led Chambers +to suggest that the unfortunate hero was Walter Stuart, +second son of the Duke of Albany. In support of his +conjecture, he adduces "the name, which may be a +corruption of Walter; the mention of the Heading +(beheading) Hill of Stirling, which is known to have +been the very scene of Walter Stuart's execution; the +relationship which Young Waters claims with the king; +and the sympathy expressed by the people, in the last +verse, for the fate of the young knight, which exactly +tallies with what is told us by the Scottish historians, +regarding the popular feeling expressed in favour of<!-- Page 89 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> +the numerous nobles and princes of his own blood, +whom the king saw it necessary to sacrifice." We do +not consider these coincidences sufficient to establish +the historical character of the piece.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">About Zule, quhen the wind blew cule,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the round tables began,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A'! there is cum to our kings court<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mony a well-favourd man.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The queen luikt owre the castle wa',<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beheld baith dale and down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then she saw zoung Waters<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cum riding to the town.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His footmen they did rin before,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His horsemen rade behind;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ane mantel of the burning gowd<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Did keip him frae the wind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gowden graith'd his horse before,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And siller shod behind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The horse zoung Waters rade upon<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was fleeter than the wind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But then spake a wylie lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Unto the queen said he:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O tell me quha's the fairest face<br /></span> +<!-- Page 90 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span><span class="i2">Rides in the company?"<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I've sene lord, and I've sene laird,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And knights of high degree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bot a fairer face than zoung Waters<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mine eyne did never see."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out then spaek the jealous king<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">(And an angry man was he):<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O if he had been twice as fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Zou micht have excepted me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Zou're neither laird nor lord," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Bot the king that wears the crown;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is not a knight in fair Scotland,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bot to thee maun bow down."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For a' that she could do or say,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Appeasd he wade nae bee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bot for the words which she had said,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Zoung Waters he maun dee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They hae taen zoung Waters, and<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Put fetters to his feet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They hae taen zoung Waters, and<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thrown him in dungeon deep.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Aft I have ridden thro' Stirling town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the wind bot and the weit;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bot I neir rade thro' Stirling town<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' fetters at my feet.<!-- Page 91 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Aft have I ridden thro' Stirling town,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the wind bot and the rain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bot I neir rade thro' Stirling town<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Neir to return again."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They hae taen to the heiding-hill<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His zoung son in his craddle;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they hae taen to the heiding-hill<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His horse bot and his saddle.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They hae taen to the heiding-hill<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His lady fair to see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for the words the queen had spoke<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Zoung Waters he did dee.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 92 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="BONNIE_GEORGE_CAMPBELL" id="BONNIE_GEORGE_CAMPBELL"></a>BONNIE GEORGE CAMPBELL.</h3> + +<p class="center">Motherwell's <i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. 44.</p> + + +<p>This, says Motherwell, "is probably a lament for +one of the adherents of the house of Argyle, who fell +in the battle of Glenlivat, stricken on Thursday, the +third day of October, 1594 years." It is printed, +somewhat differently, in Smith's <i>Scottish Minstrel</i>, v. +42. Finlay gives eight lines of this ballad in the +Preface to his first volume, p. xxxiii.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hie upon Hielands,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And low upon Tay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bonnie George Campbell<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rade out on a day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saddled and bridled<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And gallant rade he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hame cam his gude horse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But never cam he!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out cam his auld mither<br /></span> +<!-- Page 93 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span><span class="i2">Greeting fu' sair,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And out cam his bonnie bride<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rivin' her hair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saddled and bridled<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And booted rade he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Toom hame cam the saddle,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But never cam he!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My meadow lies green,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And my corn is unshorn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My barn is to big,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And my babie's unborn."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saddled and bridled<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And booted rade he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Toom hame cam the saddle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But never cam he!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 94 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LAMKIN" id="LAMKIN"></a>LAMKIN.</h3> + + +<p>The following is believed to be a correct account +of the various printed forms of this extremely popular +ballad. In the second edition of Herd's <i>Scottish Songs</i> +(1776) appeared a fragment of eighteen stanzas, called +<i>Lammikin</i>, embellished in a puerile style by some modern +hand. Jamieson published the story in a complete +and authentic shape in his <i>Popular Ballads</i>, in 1806. +Finlay's collection (1808) furnishes us with two more +copies, the first of which (ii. 47) is made up in part of +Herd's fragment, and the second (ii. 57) taken from +a MS. "written by an old lady." Another was given, +from recitation, in Motherwell's <i>Minstrelsy</i>, (1827,) +with the more intelligible title of <i>Lambert Linkin</i>. An +English fragment, called <i>Long Lonkin</i>, taken down +from the recitation of an old woman, is said to have +been inserted by Miss Landon, in the <i>Drawing-Room +Scrap-Book</i>, for 1837. This was republished in Richardson's +<i>Borderer's Table-Book</i>, 1846, vol. viii. 410, and +the editor of that miscellany, who ought to have learned +to be skeptical in such matters, urges the circumstantial +character of local tradition as strong evidence that the +real scene of the cruel history was in Northumberland.<!-- Page 95 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +Lastly, we have to note a version resembling Motherwell's, +styled <i>Bold Rankin</i>, printed in <i>A New Book of +Old Ballads</i>, (p. 73,) and in Whitelaw's <i>Book of Scottish +Ballads</i>, (p. 246,) and an imperfect ballad (<i>Long +Lankyn</i>) in <i>Notes and Queries</i>, New Series, ii. 324.</p> + +<p>We have printed Jamieson's, <a href="#LAMBERT_LINKIN">Motherwell's</a>, <a href="#LAMMIKIN_See_p_94">the longer +of Finlay's versions</a>, and <a href="#LONG_LONKIN_See_p_94">the English fragment</a>: the +last two in the Appendix. The following is from +Jamieson's <i>Popular Ballads</i>, i. 176. "This piece was +transmitted to the Editor by Mrs. Brown."</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O pay me now, Lord Wearie;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come, pay me out o' hand."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I canna pay you, Lamkin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Unless I sell my land."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O gin ye winna pay me,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I here sall mak a vow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before that ye come hame again,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye sall ha'e cause to rue."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Wearie got a bonny ship,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To sail the saut sea faem;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bade his lady weel the castle keep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ay till he should come hame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the nourice was a fause limmer<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As e'er hung on a tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She laid a plot wi' Lamkin,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whan her lord was o'er the sea.<!-- Page 96 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She laid a plot wi' Lamkin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When the servants were awa';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loot him in at a little shot window,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And brought him to the ha'.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O whare's a' the men o' this house,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ca' me Lamkin?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"They're at the barn well thrashing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Twill be lang ere they come in."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And whare's the women o' this house,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ca' me Lamkin?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"They're at the far well washing;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Twill be lang ere they come in."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And whare's the bairns o' this house,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ca' me Lamkin?"<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"They're at the school reading;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Twill be night or they come hame."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O whare's the lady o' this house,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ca's me Lamkin?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"She's up in her bower sewing,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But we soon can bring her down."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then Lamkin's tane a sharp knife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That hang down by his gaire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he has gi'en the bonny babe<br /></span> +<!-- Page 97 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span><span class="i2">A deep wound and a sair.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then Lamkin he rocked,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the fause nourice sang,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till frae ilkae bore o' the cradle<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The red blood out sprang.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out it spak the lady,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As she stood on the stair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"What ails my bairn, nourice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That he's greeting sae sair?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O still my bairn, nourice;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O still him wi' the pap!"<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He winna still, lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For this, nor for that."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O still my bairn, nourice;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"O still him wi' the wand!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He winna still, lady,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For a' his father's land."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O still my bairn, nourice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O still him wi' the bell!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He winna still, lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till ye come down yoursel."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O the firsten step she steppit,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She steppit on a stane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the neisten step she steppit,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She met him, Lamkin.<!-- Page 98 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O mercy, mercy, Lamkin!<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ha'e mercy upon me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though you've ta'en my young son's life,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye may let mysel be."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O sall I kill her, nourice?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or sall I lat her be?"<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O kill her, kill her, Lamkin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For she ne'er was good to me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O scour the bason, nourice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And mak it fair and clean,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For to keep this lady's heart's blood,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For she's come o' noble kin."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There need nae bason, Lamkin;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lat it run through the floor;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What better is the heart's blood<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O' the rich than o' the poor?"<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But ere three months were at an end,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lord Wearie came again;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But dowie dowie was his heart<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When first he came hame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O wha's blood is this," he says,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That lies in the châmer?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It is your lady's heart's blood;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Tis as clear as the lamer."<!-- Page 99 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And wha's blood is this," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That lies in my ha'?"<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It is your young son's heart's blood;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Tis the clearest ava."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O sweetly sang the black-bird<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That sat upon the tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sairer grat Lamkin,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">When he was condemn'd to die.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And bonny sang the mavis<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Out o' the thorny brake;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sairer grat the nourice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When she was tied to the stake.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 100 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LAMBERT_LINKIN" id="LAMBERT_LINKIN"></a>LAMBERT LINKIN.</h3> + + +<p>"The present copy is given from recitation, and +though it could have received additions, and perhaps +improvements, from another copy, obtained from a +similar source, and of equal authenticity, in his possession, +the Editor did not like to use a liberty which is +liable to much abuse. To some, the present set of the +ballad may be valuable, as handing down both name +and nickname of the revengeful builder of Prime +Castle; for there can be little doubt that the epithet +<i>Linkin</i> Mr. Lambert acquired from the secrecy and +address with which he insinuated himself into that +notable strength. Indeed, all the names of Lammerlinkin, +Lammikin, Lamkin, Lankin, Linkin, Belinkin, +can easily be traced out as abbreviations of Lambert +Linkin. In the present set of the ballad, Lambert +Linkin and Belinkin are used indifferently, as the +measure of the verse may require; in the other recited +copy, to which reference has been made, it is Lammerlinkin +and Lamkin; and the nobleman for whom +he "built a house" is stated to be "Lord Arran." No +allusion, however, is made here to the name of the<!-- Page 101 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> +owner of Prime Castle. Antiquaries, peradventure, +may find it as difficult to settle the precise locality of +this fortalice, as they have found it to fix the topography +of Troy." Motherwell's <i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. 291.</p> + +<p>In Finlay's second copy, the murderer's name is Balcanqual, +"which," observes the editor, "is an ancient +Scottish surname, and is sometimes corrupted, for the +more agreeable sound, into Beluncan." It is more +likely that Belinkin has suggested Balcanqual, than +that Balcanqual has been corrupted into Lamkin.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Belinkin was as gude a mason<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As e'er pickt a stane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He built up Prime Castle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But payment gat nane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The lord said to his lady,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">When he was going abroad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O beware of Belinkin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For he lyes in the wood."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The gates they were bolted,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Baith outside and in;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the sma' peep of a window<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Belinkin crap in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gude morrow, gude morrow,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Said Lambert Linkin.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Gude morrow to yoursell, sir,"<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Said the fause nurse to him.<!-- Page 102 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O whare is your gude lord?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Said Lambert Linkin.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He's awa to New England,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To meet with his king."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O where is his auld son?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Said Lambert Linkin.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He's awa to buy pearlings,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gin our lady ly in."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then she'll never wear them,"<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Said Lambert Linkin.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And that is nae pity,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Said the fause nurse to him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O where is your lady?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Said Lambert Linkin.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"She's in her bouir sleepin',"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Said the fause nurse to him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"How can we get at her?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Said Lambert Linkin.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Stab the babe to the heart<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' a silver bo'kin."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"That wud be a pity,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Said Lambert Linkin.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nae pity, nae pity,"<br /></span> +<!-- Page 103 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span><span class="i2">Said the fause nurse to him.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Belinkin he rocked,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the fause nurse she sang,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till a' the <a name="LNanchor_III_26b_43" id="LNanchor_III_26b_43"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_26b_43" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">tores</a> o' the cradle<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' the red blude down ran.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O still my babe, nurice,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">O still him wi' the knife."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He'll no be still, lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tho' I lay down my life."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O still my babe, nurice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O still him wi' the kame."<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He'll no be still, lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till his daddy come hame."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O still my babe, nurice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O still him wi' the bell."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He'll no be still, lady,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till ye come down yoursell."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It's how can I come doun,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This cauld frosty nicht,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without e'er a coal<br /></span> +<!-- Page 104 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span><span class="i2">Or a clear candle licht?"<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There's twa smocks in your coffer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As white as a swan;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Put ane o' them about you,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It will shew you licht doun."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She took ane o' them about her,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And came tripping doun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But as soon as she viewed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Belinkin was in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gude morrow, gude morrow,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Said Lambert Linkin.<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Gude morrow to yoursell, sir,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Said the lady to him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O save my life, Belinkin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till my husband come back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'll gie ye as much red gold<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As ye'll haud in your hat."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'll not save your life, lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till your husband come back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho' you wud gie me as much red gold<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I could haud in a sack.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Will I kill her?" quo' Belinkin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Will I kill her, or let her be?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"You may kill her," said the fause nurse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"She was ne'er gude to me;<!-- Page 105 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ye'll be laird o' the Castle,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I'll be ladye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then he cut aff her head<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fra her lily breast bane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he hung 't up in the kitchen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It made a' the ha' shine.<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The lord sat in England<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A-drinking the wine:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I wish a' may be weel<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' my lady at hame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the rings o' my fingers<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">They're now burst in twain!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He saddled his horse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he came riding doun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But as soon as he viewed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Belinkin was in.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He hadna weel stepped<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Twa steps up the stair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till he saw his pretty young son<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lying dead on the floor.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He hadna weel stepped<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Other twa up the stair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till he saw his pretty lady<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lying dead in despair.<!-- Page 106 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He hanged Belinkin<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Out over the gate;<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he burnt the fause nurice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Being under the grate.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_III_26b_43" id="Linenote_III_26b_43"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_26b_43" title="link to line number">43</a>. <i>Tores.</i> The projections or knobs at the corners of +old-fashioned cradles, and the ornamented balls commonly +found surmounting the backs of old chairs. <span class="smcap">Motherwell.</span></p> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 107 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_LAIRD_OF_WARISTOUN" id="THE_LAIRD_OF_WARISTOUN"></a>THE LAIRD OF WARISTOUN.</h3> + + +<p>Jamieson and <a href="#LAIRD_OF_WARIESTOUN" title="link to Kinlock's version">Kinloch</a> have each published a highly +dramatic fragment of this terrible story. Both of these +are here given, and in the Appendix may be seen +<a href="#THE_LAIRD_OF_WARISTOUN_See_p_107" title="link to Buchan's version">Buchan's</a> more extensive, but far less poetical version. +With this last, we have printed Mr. Chambers's +account of the events on which these ballads are +founded.</p> + +<p>Jamieson's copy was taken down by Sir Walter +Scott, from the recitation of his mother. <i>Popular +Ballads</i>, i. 109.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Down by yon garden green<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae merrily as she gaes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She has twa weel-made feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she trips upon her taes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She has twa weel-made feet;<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Far better is her hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's as jimp in the middle<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As ony willow-wand.<!-- Page 108 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gif ye will do my bidding,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At my bidding for to be,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">It's I will make you lady<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of a' the lands you see."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He spak a word in jest;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her answer wasna good;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He threw a plate at her face,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Made it a' gush out o' blood.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She wasna frae her chamber<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A step but barely three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When up and at her richt hand<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There stood Man's Enemy.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gif ye will do my bidding,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At my bidding for to be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll learn you a wile<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Avenged for to be."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Foul Thief knotted the tether;<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">She lifted his head on hie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The nourice drew the knot<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That gar'd lord Waristoun die.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then word is gane to Leith,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Also to Edinburgh town,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the lady had kill'd the laird,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The laird o' Waristoun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<!-- Page 109 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span><span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Tak aff, tak aff my hood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But lat my petticoat be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Put my mantle o'er my head;<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For the fire I downa see.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now, a' ye gentle maids,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tak warning now by me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And never marry ane<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But wha pleases your e'e.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For he married me for love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But I married him for fee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sae brak out the feud<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That gar'd my dearie die."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 110 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LAIRD_OF_WARIESTOUN" id="LAIRD_OF_WARIESTOUN"></a>LAIRD OF WARIESTOUN.</h3> + +<p class="center">Kinloch's <i>Ancient Scottish Ballads</i>, p. 53.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It was at dinner as they sat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And when they drank the wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How happy were the laird and lady<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of bonnie Wariestoun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The lady spak but ae word,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The matter to conclude;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The laird strak her on the mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till she spat out o' blude.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She did not know the way<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her mind to satisfy,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till evil cam into her head<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All by the Enemy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<!-- Page 111 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span><span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"At evening when ye sit<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And when ye drink the wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See that ye fill the glass well up<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the laird o' Wariestoun."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So at table as they sat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And when they drank the wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She made the glass aft gae round<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the laird o' Wariestoun.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The nurice she knet the knot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And O she knet it sicker;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ladie did gie it a twig,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till it began to wicker.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But word has gane doun to Leith,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And up to Embro toun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the lady she has slain the laird,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The laird o' Wariestoun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Word's gane to her father, the great Duniepace,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And an angry man was he;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cries, "Fy! gar mak a barrel o' pikes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And row her doun some brae."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She said, "Wae be to ye, Wariestoun,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wish ye may sink for ain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I hae been your gudwife<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">These nine years, running ten;<br /></span> +<!-- Page 112 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And I never loved ye sae weill<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As now when you're lying slain."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But tak aff this gowd brocade,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And let my petticoat be,<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tie a handkerchief round my face,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That the people may not see."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 113 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_QUEENS_MARIE" id="THE_QUEENS_MARIE"></a>THE QUEEN'S MARIE.</h3> + + +<p>Of this affecting ballad different editions have appeared +in Scott's <i>Minstrelsy</i>, Sharpe's <i>Ballad Book</i>, p. 18, +Kinloch's <i>Scottish Ballads</i>, and Motherwell's <i>Minstrelsy</i>. +There is also a fragment in Maidment's <i>North +Countrie Garland</i>, which has been reprinted in Buchan's +<i>Gleanings</i>, p. 164, and a very inferior version, +with a different catastrophe, in Buchan's larger collection, +(ii. 190,) called <i>Warenston and the Duke of +York's Daughter</i>. <a href="#MARY_HAMILTON_Kinloch" title="link to Kinloch's version">Kinloch's copy</a> may be found with +<a href="#MARY_HAMILTON_Maidment" title="link to Maidment's version">Maidment's fragment</a>, in the Appendix to this volume: +<a href="#MARY_HAMILTON" title="link to Motherwell's version">Motherwell's</a> immediately after the present.</p> + +<p>Sir Walter Scott conceives the ballad to have had +its foundation in an event which took place early in +the reign of Mary Stuart, described by Knox as follows: +"In the very time of the General Assembly, +there comes to public knowledge a haynous murther, +committed in the court; yea, not far from the +Queen's lap; for a French woman, that served in the +Queen's chamber, had played the whore with the +Queen's own apothecary. The woman conceived and +bare a childe, whom, with common consent, the father +and mother murthered; yet were the cries of a new<!-- Page 114 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>-borne +childe hearde, searche was made, the childe and +the mother were both apprehended, and so were the +man and the woman condemned to be hanged in the +publicke street of Edinburgh. The punishment was +suitable, because the crime was haynous. But yet was +not the court purged of whores and whoredoms, which +was the fountaine of such enormities: for it was well +known that shame hasted marriage betwixt John Sempill, +called the Dancer, and Mary Levingston, sirnamed +the Lusty. What bruit the Maries, and the +rest of the dancers of the court had, <i>the ballads of that +age</i> doe witnesse, which we for modestie's sake omit. +<span class="smcap">Knox's</span> <i>History of the Reformation</i>, p. 373.</p> + +<p>"Such," Sir Walter goes on to say, "seems to be +the subject of the following ballad, as narrated by the +stern apostle of Presbytery. It will readily strike the +reader, that the tale has suffered great alterations, as +handed down by tradition; the French waiting woman +being changed into Mary Hamilton, and the +Queen's apothecary into Henry Darnley. Yet this is +less surprising, when we recollect, that one of the +heaviest of the Queen's complaints against her ill-fated +husband, was his infidelity, and that even with her +personal attendants."</p> + +<p>Satisfactorily as the circumstances of Knox's story +may agree with those of the ballads, a coincidence no +less striking, and extending even to the name, is presented +by an incident which occurred at the court of +Peter the Great. "During the reign of the Czar +Peter," observes Mr. C. K. Sharpe, "one of his Empress's +attendants, a Miss Hamilton, was executed for +the murder of a natural child,—not her first crime in +that way, as was suspected; and the Emperor, whose +admiration of her beauty did not preserve her life,<!-- Page 115 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +stood upon the scaffold till her head was struck off, +which he lifted by the ears and kissed on the lips. I +cannot help thinking that the two stories have been +confused in the ballad; for, if Marie Hamilton was executed +in Scotland, it is not likely that her relations +resided beyond seas; and we have no proof that Hamilton +was really the name of the woman who made +the slip with the Queen's apothecary."</p> + +<p>Scott's edition of <i>Mary Hamilton</i>, (the first ever +published,) was made up by him, from various copies. +See <i>Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border</i>, iii. 294.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Marie Hamilton's to the kirk gane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' ribbons in her hair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The King thought mair o' Marie Hamilton,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than ony that were there.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Marie Hamilton's to the kirk gane,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' ribbons on her breast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The King thought mair o' Marie Hamilton,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than he listen'd to the priest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Marie Hamilton's to the kirk gane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' gloves upon her hands;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The King thought mair o' Marie Hamilton,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than the Queen and a' her lands.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She hadna been about the King's court<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A month, but barely one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till she was beloved by a' the King's court,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the King the only man.<!-- Page 116 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She hadna been about the King's court<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A month, but barely three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till frae the King's court Marie Hamilton,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Marie Hamilton durstna be.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The King is to the Abbey gane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To pu' the Abbey tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To scale the babe frae Marie's heart;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But the thing it wadna be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O she has row'd it in her apron,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And set it on the sea,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Gae sink ye, or swim ye, bonny babe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye's get nae mair o' me."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Word is to the kitchen gane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And word is to the ha',<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And word is to the noble room,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Amang the ladyes a',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Marie Hamilton's brought to bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the bonny babe's mist and awa'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Scarcely had she lain down again,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And scarcely fa'en asleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When up then started our gude Queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Just at her bed-feet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saying—"Marie Hamilton, where's your babe?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For I am sure I heard it greet."—<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O no, O no, my noble Queen!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Think no such thing to be;<!-- Page 117 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas but a stitch into my side,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sair it troubles me."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Get up, get up, Marie Hamilton:<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Get up and follow me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I am going to Edinburgh town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A rich wedding for to see."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O slowly, slowly raise she up,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And slowly put she on;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And slowly rode she out the way,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' mony a weary groan.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Queen was clad in scarlet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her merry maids all in green;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And every town that they cam to,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">They took Marie for the Queen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ride hooly, hooly, gentlemen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ride hooly now wi' me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For never, I am sure, a wearier burd<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rade in your cumpanie."—<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But little wist Marie Hamilton,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When she rade on the brown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That she was ga'en to Edinburgh town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a' to be put down.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Why weep ye so, ye burgess wives,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Why look ye so on me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O I am going to Edinburgh town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A rich wedding for to see."<!-- Page 118 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When she gaed up the tolbooth stairs,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The corks frae her heels did flee;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lang or e'er she cam down again,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She was condemn'd to die.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When she cam to <a name="LNanchor_III_28a_73" id="LNanchor_III_28a_73"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_28a_73" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">the Netherbow port</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She laughed loud laughters three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when she cam to the gallows foot,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The tears blinded her ee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<a name="LNanchor_III_28a_80" id="LNanchor_III_28a_80"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_28a_80" class="lnanchor" title="link to note"> +<span class="i0">"Yestreen the Queen had four Maries,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The night she'll hae but three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was Marie Seaton, and Marie Beaton,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Marie Carmichael, and me.<span class="linenum">80</span></span></a> +<!-- Page 119 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O often have I dress'd my Queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And put gold upon her hair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now I've gotten for my reward<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The gallows to be my share.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Often have I dress'd my Queen,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And often made her bed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now I've gotten for my reward<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The gallows tree to tread.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I charge ye all, ye mariners,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When ye sail ower the faem,<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let neither my father nor mother get wit,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But that I'm coming hame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I charge ye all, ye mariners,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That sail upon the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let neither my father nor mother get wit<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">This dog's death I'm to die.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For if my father and mother got wit,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And my bold brethren three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O mickle wad be the gude red blude<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This day wad be spilt for me!<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O little did my mother ken,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That day she cradled me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lands I was to travel in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or the death I was to die!"<br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_III_28a_73" id="Linenote_III_28a_73"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_28a_73" title="link to line number">73</a>. The Netherbow port was the gate which divided the +city of Edinburgh from the suburb, called the Canongate. S.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_III_28a_80" id="Linenote_III_28a_80"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_28a_80" title="link to line number">80</a>. The Queen's Maries were four young ladies of the +highest families in Scotland, who were sent to France in her +train, and returned with her to Scotland. Keith gives us +their names, p. 55. "The young Queen, Mary, embarked +at Dunbarton for France, ... and with her went +... and four young virgins, all of the name of +Mary, viz. Livingston, Fleming, Seatoun, and Beatoun." +Neither Mary Livingston, nor Mary Fleming, are mentioned +in the ballad; nor are the Mary Hamilton, and Mary Carmichael, +of the ballad, mentioned by Keith. But if this corps +continued to consist of young virgins, as when originally +raised, it could hardly have subsisted without occasional recruits; +especially if we trust our old bard, and John Knox.</p> + +<p>The Queen's Maries are mentioned in many ballads, and +the name seems to have passed into a general denomination +for female attendants.—<span class="smcap">Scott.</span></p> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 120 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="MARY_HAMILTON" id="MARY_HAMILTON"></a>MARY HAMILTON.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Motherwell's <i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. 311.</p> + + +<p>"In this set of the ballad, from its direct allusion to +the use of the Savin-tree, a clue is, perhaps, afforded +for tracing how the poor mediciner mentioned by Knox +should be implicated in the crime of Mary Hamilton. +It may also be noted as a feature in this version of the +ballad, which does not occur in any heretofore printed, +the unfortunate heroine's proud and indignant spurning +at life after her character had been tainted by the +infamy of a sentence of condemnation. In another +copy of the ballad, also obtained from recitation, this +sentiment is, perhaps, still more forcibly expressed; at +any rate, it is more appropriate as being addressed to +the King. The whole concluding verses of this copy, +differing as they somewhat do from the version adopted +for a text, it has been thought worth while to preserve.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But bring to me a cup," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"A cup bot and a can,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I will drink to all my friends,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And they'll drink to me again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here's to you, all travellers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who travel by land or sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let na wit to my father nor mother<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The death that I must die.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here's to you, all travellers,<!-- Page 121 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That travel on dry land;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let na wit to my father or mother<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But I am coming hame.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O little did my mother think,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">First time she cradled me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What land I was to travel on,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or what death I would die.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O little did my mother think,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">First time she tied my head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What land I was to tread upon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or whare I would win my bread.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yestreen Queen Mary had four Maries;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This night she'll hae but three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She had Mary Seaton, and Mary Beaton,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Mary Carmichael, and me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yestreen I wush Queen Mary's feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bore her till her bed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This day she's given me my reward,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The gallows tree to tread.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cast aff, cast aff my gown," she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"But let my petticoat be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tye a napkin on my face,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For that gallows I downa see."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By and cam the King himsell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Look'd up wi' a pitiful ee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Come down, come down, Mary Hamilton;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This day thou wilt dine with me."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Hold your tongue, my sovereign liege,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And let your folly be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An ye had had a mind to save my life,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye should na hae shamed me here!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"The copy of the ballad from which the above +extract is given, begins with this verse:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There were three ladies, they lived in a bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And O but they were fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The youngest o' them is to the King's court,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To learn some unco lair."<br /></span> +<!-- Page 122 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></div></div> + +<p>"There is another version in which the heroine is +named Mary Myles, or Myle; but Myle is probably +a corruption of the epithet 'mild,' which occurs in +the fragment given in the <i>North Countrie Garland</i>." +<span class="smcap">Motherwell.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There lived a knight into the North,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he had daughters three:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ane of them was a barber's wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The other a gay ladie;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the youngest o' them to Scotland is gane<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Queen's Mary to be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for a' that they could say or do,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Forbidden she wouldna be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The prince's bed it was sae saft,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The spices they were sae fine,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That out of it she could not lye<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While she was scarce fifteen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's gane to the garden gay<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To pu' of the savin tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But for a' that she could say or do,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The babie it would not die.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's rowed it in her handkerchief,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She threw it in the sea:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says,—"Sink ye, swim ye, my bonnie babe,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 123 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span><span class="i2">For ye'll get nae mair of me."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Queen Mary came tripping down the stair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' the gold strings in her hair:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O whare's the little babie," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That I heard greet sae sair?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O hald your tongue, Queen Mary, my dame,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let all those words go free;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was mysell wi' a fit o' the sair colic,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I was sick just like to die."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O hald your tongue, Mary Hamilton,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let all those words go free;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O where is the little babie<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That I heard weep by thee?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I rowed it in my handkerchief,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And threw it in the sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I bade it sink, I bade it swim,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">It would get nae mair o' me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O wae be to thee, Mary Hamilton,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And an ill deid may you die;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For if you had saved the babie's life,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It might hae been an honour to thee.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Busk ye, busk ye, Mary Hamilton,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O busk ye to be a bride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I am going to Edinburgh town<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your gay wedding to bide.<!-- Page 124 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"You must not put on your robes of black,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor yet your robes of brown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But you must put on your yellow gold stuffs,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To shine thro' Edinburgh town."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I will not put on my robes of black,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor yet my robes of brown;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I will put on my yellow gold stuffs,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To shine thro' Edinburgh town."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As she went up the Parliament Close,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A riding on her horse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There she saw many a burgess' lady<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sit greeting at the cross.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O what means a' this greeting?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'm sure it's nae for me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'm come this day to Edinburgh town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Weel wedded for to be."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When she gade up the Parliament stair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She gied loud lauchters three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ere that she had come down again,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She was condemned to die.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O little did my mother think,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The day she prinned my gown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I was to come sae far frae hame<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To be hanged in Edinburgh town.<!-- Page 125 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O what'll my poor father think,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As he comes through the town,<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see the face of his Molly fair<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hanging on the gallows pin?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Here's a health to the mariners<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That plough the raging main;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let neither my mother nor father ken<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But I'm coming hame again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Here's a health to the sailors<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That sail upon the sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let neither my mother nor father ken<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That I came here to die.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yestreen the Queen had four Maries,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This night she'll hae but three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was Mary Beaton, and Mary Seaton,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Mary Carmichael and me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O hald your tongue, Mary Hamilton,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let all those words go free;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This night ere ye be hanged<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye shall gang hame wi' me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O hald your tongue, Queen Mary, my dame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let all those words go free;<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since I have come to Edinburgh town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's hanged I shall be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For it shall ne'er be said that in your court<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I was condemned to die."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 126 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="BESSIE_BELL_AND_MARY_GRAY" id="BESSIE_BELL_AND_MARY_GRAY"></a>BESSIE BELL AND MARY GRAY.</h3> + + +<p>From Lyle's <i>Ancient Ballads and Songs</i>, p. 160, +where it was printed as collated "from the singing of +two aged persons, one of them a native of Perthshire." +There are two versions slightly differing from the present;—one +in Cunningham's <i>Songs of Scotland</i>, iii. +60, obtained from Sir Walter Scott, and another in +Mr. Kirkpatrick Sharpe's <i>Ballad Book</i>, p. 62.</p> + +<p>Allan Ramsay wrote a song with the same title, beginning +with the first stanza of the ballad, (<i>Tea Table +Miscellany</i>, i. 70.)</p> + +<p>The story of the unfortunate heroines is thus given +by Chambers: "Bessie Bell and Mary Gray were the +daughters of two country gentlemen in the neighborhood +of Perth; and an intimate friendship subsisted +between them. Bessie Bell, daughter of the Laird of +Kinnaird, happening to be on a visit to Mary Gray, at +her father's house of Lynedoch, when the plague of +1666 broke out, to avoid the infection, the two young +ladies built themselves a bower in a very retired and +romantic spot, called the Burn-braes, about three quarters +of a mile westward from Lynedoch House; where +they resided for some time, supplied with food, it is<!-- Page 127 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +said, by a young gentleman of Perth, who was in love +with them both. The disease was unfortunately communicated +to them by their lover, and proved fatal; +when, according to custom in cases of the plague, they +were not buried in the ordinary parochial place of +sepulture, but in a sequestered spot, called the Dronach +Haugh, at the foot of a brae of the same name, upon +the banks of the River Almond."</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Bessy Bell an' Mary Gray,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They were twa bonnie lassies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They biggit a house on yon burn-brae,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' theekit it o'er wi' rashes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They theekit it o'er wi' birk and brume,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">They theekit it o'er wi' heather,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the pest cam frae the neib'rin town<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' streekit them baith thegither.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They were na' buried in Meffen kirk-yard,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Amang the rest o' their kin;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But they were buried by Dornoch haugh,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the bent before the sun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sing, Bessy Bell an' Mary Gray,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They were twa bonnie lasses,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wha' biggit a bower on yon burn-brae,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' theekit it o'er wi' thrashes.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 128 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_CHILDREN_IN_THE_WOOD" id="THE_CHILDREN_IN_THE_WOOD"></a>THE CHILDREN IN THE WOOD.</h3> + + +<p><i>The Children in the Wood</i> is perhaps the most popular +of all English ballads. Its merit is attested by the +favor it has enjoyed with so many generations, and +was vindicated to a cold and artificial age by the +kindly pen of Addison. The editor of the <i>Reliques</i> +thought that the subject was taken from an old play, +published in 1601, "of a young child murthered in a +wood by two ruffins, with the consent of his unkle," +but Ritson discovered that the ballad was entered in +the Stationers' Registers in 1595. The plot of the play +was undoubtedly derived from the Italian, and the +author of the ballad may have taken a hint from the +same source.</p> + +<p>Percy's edition, (<i>Reliques</i>, iii. 218,) which we have +adopted, was printed from two old copies, one of them +in black-letter, in the Pepys collection. The full title +is, <i>The Children in the Wood, or, The Norfolk Gentleman's +Last Will and Testament</i>. <i>To the Tune of Rogero</i>, +&c. Copies slightly varying from Percy's may be seen +in <i>A Collection of Old Ballads</i>, (1723,) i. 221; Ritson's +<i>Ancient Songs</i>, ii. 150; <i>The Book of British Ballads</i>, +p. 13; and Moore's <i>Pictorial Book of Ancient Ballad +Poetry</i>, p. 263.<!-- Page 129 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now ponder well, you parents deare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">These wordes which I shall write;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A doleful story you shall heare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In time brought forth to light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A gentleman of good account<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">In Norfolke dwelt of late,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who did in honour far surmount<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Most men of his estate.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sore sicke he was, and like to dye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">No helpe his life could save;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">His wife by him as sicke did lye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And both possest one grave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No love between these two was lost,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Each was to other kinde;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In love they liv'd, in love they dyed,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And left two babes behinde:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The one a fine and pretty boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Not passing three yeares olde;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The other a girl more young than he,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fram'd in beautyes molde.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The father left his little son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As plainlye doth appeare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When he to perfect age should come,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Three hundred poundes a yeare.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And to his little daughter Jane<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Five hundred poundes in gold,<!-- Page 130 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To be paid downe on marriage-day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which might not be controll'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if the children chance to dye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ere they to age should come,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their uncle should possesse their wealth;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For so the wille did run.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now, brother," said the dying man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Look to my children deare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be good unto my boy and girl,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">No friendes else have they here:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To God and you I recommend<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My children deare this daye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But little while be sure we have<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Within this world to staye.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"You must be father and mother both,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And uncle all in one;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God knowes what will become of them,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When I am dead and gone."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With that bespake their mother deare,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"O brother kinde," quoth shee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"You are the man must bring our babes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To wealth or miserie:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And if you keep them carefully,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then God will you reward;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if you otherwise should deal,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">God will your deedes regard."<!-- Page 131 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With lippes as cold as any stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They kist their children small:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"God bless you both, my children deare;"<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">With that the teares did fall.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">These speeches then their brother spake<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To this sicke couple there:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The keeping of your little ones,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet sister, do not feare.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">God never prosper me nor mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor aught else that I have,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I do wrong your children deare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When you are layd in grave."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The parents being dead and gone,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The children home he takes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bringes them straite unto his house,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where much of them he makes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had not kept these pretty babes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A twelvemonth and a daye,<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, for their wealth, he did devise<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To make them both awaye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He bargain'd with two ruffians strong,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which were of furious mood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That they should take these children young,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And slaye them in a wood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He told his wife an artful tale.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He would the children send<!-- Page 132 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To be brought up in faire London,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With one that was his friend.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Away then went those pretty babes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rejoycing at that tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rejoycing with a merry minde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They should on cock-horse ride.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They prate and prattle pleasantly,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As they rode on the waye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To those that should their butchers be,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And work their lives decaye:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So that the pretty speeche they had,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Made Murder's heart relent:<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they that undertooke the deed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Full sore did now repent.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet one of them more hard of heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Did vowe to do his charge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because the wretch, that hired him,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Had paid him very large.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The other won't agree thereto,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So here they fall to strife;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With one another they did fight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">About the childrens life:<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he that was of mildest mood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Did slaye the other there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within an unfrequented wood;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The babes did quake for feare!<!-- Page 133 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He took the children by the hand,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Teares standing in their eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bad them straitwaye follow him,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And look they did not crye:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And two long miles he ledd them on,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While they for food complaine:<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Staye here," quoth he, "I'll bring you bread,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When I come back againe."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">These pretty babes, with hand in hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Went wandering up and downe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But never more could see the man<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Approaching from the towne:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their prettye lippes with blackberries,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Were all besmear'd and dyed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when they sawe the darksome night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They sat them downe and cryed.<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus wandered these poor innocents,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till deathe did end their grief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In one anothers armes they died,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As wanting due relief:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No burial <a name="LNanchor_III_30_125" id="LNanchor_III_30_125"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_30_125" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">this pretty pair</a><span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of any man receives,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till Robin-red-breast piously<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Did cover them with leaves.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now the heavy wrathe of God<br /></span> +<!-- Page 134 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span><span class="i2">Upon their uncle fell;<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, fearfull fiends did haunt his house,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His conscience felt an hell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His barnes were fir'd, his goodes consum'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His landes were barren made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His cattle dyed within the field,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And nothing with him stayd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And in <a name="LNanchor_III_30_137" id="LNanchor_III_30_137"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_30_137" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">the voyage of Portugal</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Two of his sonnes did dye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to conclude, himselfe was brought<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To want and miserye:<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He pawn'd and mortgaged all his land<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ere seven years came about,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now at length this wicked act<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Did by this meanes come out:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The fellowe, that did take in hand<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">These children for to kill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was for a robbery judg'd to dye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Such was God's blessed will:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who did confess the very truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As here hath been display'd:<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their uncle having dyed in gaol,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where he for debt was layd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You that executors be made,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And overseers eke<!-- Page 135 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of children that be fatherless,<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And infants mild and meek;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take you example by this thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And yield to each his right,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lest God with such like miserye<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your wicked minds requite.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_III_30_125" id="Linenote_III_30_125"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_30_125" title="link to line number">125</a>, these ... babes, PP.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_III_30_137" id="Linenote_III_30_137"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_30_137" title="link to line number">137</a>. "A. D. 1588. Dr. Percy, not knowing that the text +alludes to a particular event, has altered it to <i>a</i> voyage <i>to</i> +Portugal." <span class="smcap">Ritson.</span></p> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 136 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="HUGH_OF_LINCOLN" id="HUGH_OF_LINCOLN"></a>HUGH OF LINCOLN.</h3> + + +<p>In the year 1255, we are told by Matthew Paris, in +his account of the reign of Henry III., the Jews of +Lincoln stole a boy, named Hugh, of the age of eight +years, whom, after torturing for ten days, they crucified +before a large council of their people, in contempt +of the death of the founder of Christianity. The boy +was sought by his mother in the house of a Jew, +which he had been seen to enter, and his body was +found in a pit. The occupant of the house being +seized, acknowledged the crime, and avowed, besides, +that the like was committed nearly every year by his +nation. Notwithstanding the promise of impunity by +which this confession had been obtained, the wretch +who made it was tied to the tail of a horse and dragged +to the gallows, and after a judicial investigation, +eighteen of the richest and most distinguished Jews +in Lincoln were hanged for participation in the murder, +while many more were detained as prisoners in +the Tower of London. On the other hand, the body +of the child was buried with the honors of a martyr in +Lincoln Cathedral, where a construction, assumed +without reason to be his tomb, is still shown. The +remains of a young person, found near this spot in +1791, were at once taken for granted to be those of<!-- Page 137 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +the sainted infant, and drawings were made of the +relics, which may be seen among the works of the +artist Grimm in the British Museum.</p> + +<p>Several stories of the same tenor are reported by +the English chroniclers. It may be doubted whether +there is a grain of truth in any of them, although it +would be no wonder if the atrocious injuries inflicted +on the Jews should, in an instance or two, have provoked +a bloody retaliation, even from that tribe whose +badge has always been sufferance. The annual sacrifice +of a Christian child, in mockery of the crucifixion +of Jesus, is on a par for credibility with the miracles +which are said to have followed the death of those +innocents.</p> + +<p>The exquisite tale which Chaucer has put into the +mouth of the Prioress exhibits nearly the same incidents +as the following ballad. The legend of Hugh +of Lincoln was widely famous. Michel has published +an Anglo-Norman ballad, (<i>Hugo de Lincolnia</i>,) on the +subject, which appears to be almost contemporary with +the event recorded by Matthew Paris, and is certainly +of the times of Henry III. The versions of the English +ballad are quite numerous. We give here those +of Percy, Herd, and Jamieson, and two others in +the Appendix. Besides these, fragments have been +printed in Sir Egerton Brydges's <i>Restituta</i>, i. 381, +Halliwell's <i>Ballads and Poems respecting Hugh of +Lincoln</i>, (1849,) and in <i>Notes and Queries</i>, vol. viii. +614, ix. 320, xii. 496. The most complete of all the +versions is to be found in the new edition of the +<i>Musical Museum</i>, vol. iv. p. 500; but that copy is +evidently made up from others previously published. +See, for a collection of most of the poetry, and of much<!-- Page 138 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +curious information on the imputed cruelties of the +Jews, Michel's <i>Hugues de Lincoln</i>, and Hume's <i>Sir +Hugh of Lincoln</i>. The whole subject is critically +examined in the <i>London Athenĉum</i> for Dec. 15, 1849.</p> + +<p>"The text of the following edition has been given +<i>verbatim</i>, as the editor took it down from Mrs. Brown's +recitation; and in it two circumstances are preserved, +which are neither to be found in any of the former +editions, nor in any of the chronicles in which the +transaction is recorded; but which are perfectly in the +character of those times, and tend to enhance the +miracles to which the discovery is attributed. The +first of these is, that, in order that the whole of this +infamous sacrifice might be of a piece, and every possible +outrage shown to Christianity, the Jews threw +the child's body into a well dedicated to the Virgin +Mary; and tradition says, that it was 'through the +might of Our Ladie,' that the dead body was permitted +to speak, and to reveal the horrid story to the disconsolate +mother. The other is, the voluntary ringing of +the bells, &c., at his funeral. The sound of consecrated +bells was supposed to have a powerful effect in +driving away evil spirits, appeasing storms, &c., and +they were believed to be inspired with sentiments and +perceptions which were often manifested in a very +miraculous manner." <span class="smcap">Jamieson's</span> <i>Popular Ballads</i>, +i. 139-156.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Four and twenty bonny boys<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Were playing at the ba';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by it came him, sweet Sir Hugh,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he play'd o'er them a'.<!-- Page 139 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He kick'd the ba' with his right foot,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And catch'd it wi' his knee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And throuch-and-thro' the Jew's window,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He gar'd the bonny ba' flee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's doen him to the Jew's castell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And walk'd it round about;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there he saw the Jew's daughter<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At the window looking out.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Throw down the ba', ye Jew's daughter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Throw down the ba' to me!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Never a bit," says the Jew's daughter,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Till up to me come ye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"How will I come up? How can I come up?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How can I come to thee?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For as ye did to my auld father,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The same ye'll do to me."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's gane till her father's garden,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And pu'd an apple, red and green;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas a' to wyle him, sweet Sir Hugh,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And to entice him in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's led him in through ae dark door,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sae has she thro' nine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's laid him on a dressing table,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And stickit him like a swine.<!-- Page 140 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And first came out the thick, thick blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And syne came out the thin;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And syne came out the bonny heart's blood;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There was nae mair within.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's row'd him in a cake o' lead,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bade him lie still and sleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's thrown him in Our Lady's draw well,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was fifty fathom deep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When bells were rung, and mass was sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a' the bairns came hame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When every lady gat hame her son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Lady Maisry gat nane.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's ta'en her mantle her about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her coffer by the hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she's gane out to seek her son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And wander'd o'er the land.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's doen her to the Jew's castell,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where a' were fast asleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Gin ye be there, my sweet Sir Hugh,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I pray you to me speak."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's doen her to the Jew's garden,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thought he had been gathering fruit;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Gin ye be there, my sweet Sir Hugh,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I pray you to me speak."<!-- Page 141 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She near'd Our Lady's deep draw-well,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was fifty fathom deep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Whare'er ye be, my sweet Sir Hugh,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I pray you to me speak."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gae hame, gae hame, my mither dear;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Prepare my winding sheet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, at the back o' merry Lincoln,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The morn I will you meet."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now Lady Maisry is gane hame;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Made him a winding sheet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, at the back o' merry Lincoln,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The dead corpse did her meet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And a' the bells o' merry Lincoln,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Without men's hands were rung;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a' the books o' merry Lincoln,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Were read without man's tongue;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ne'er was such a burial<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sin Adam's days begun.<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 142 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="SIR_HUGH" id="SIR_HUGH"></a>SIR HUGH.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Herd's <i>Scottish Songs</i>, i. 157.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A' the boys of merry Linkim<br /></span> +<span class="i2">War playing at the ba',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An up it stands him sweet Sir Hugh,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The flower among them a'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He keppit the ba' than wi' his foot,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And catcht it wi' his knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And even in at the Jew's window,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He gart the bonny ba' flee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Cast out the ba' to me, fair maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cast out the ba' to me."<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ah never a bit of it," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Till ye come up to me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come up, sweet Hugh, come up, dear Hugh,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come up and get the ba';"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I winna come, I mayna come,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Without my bonny boys a'."<!-- Page 143 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come up, sweet Hugh, come up, dear Hugh,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come up and speak to me;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I mayna come, I winna come,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Without my bonny boys three."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's taen her to the Jew's garden,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whar the grass grew lang and green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's pu'd an apple red and white,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To wyle the bonny boy in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's wyled him in through ae chamber,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">She's wyled him in through twa,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's wyled him in till her ain chamber,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The flower out owr them a'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's laid him on a dressin board,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whar she did often dine;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">She stack a penknife to his heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dress'd him like a swine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She row'd him in a cake of lead,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bade him ly still and sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She threw him i' the Jew's draw-well,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">It was fifty fathom deep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whan bells were rung, and mass was sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a' man bound to bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Every lady got home her son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But sweet Sir Hugh was dead.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 144 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_JEWS_DAUGHTER" id="THE_JEWS_DAUGHTER"></a>THE JEW'S DAUGHTER.</h3> + + +<p>From Percy's <i>Reliques</i>, i. 40; printed from a manuscript +copy sent from Scotland.</p> + +<p>Mirryland toune is a corruption of Merry Lincoln, +and not, as Percy conjectured, of Mailand (Milan) +town. In Motherwell's copy we have Maitland town.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The rain rins doun through Mirry-land toune,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae dois it doune the Pa:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sae dois the lads of Mirry-land toune,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Quhan they play at the ba'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Than out and cam the Jewis dochter,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Said, "Will ye cum in and dine?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I winnae cum in, I cannae cum in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Without my play-feres nine."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Scho powd an apple reid and white,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To intice the zong thing in:<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scho powd an apple white and reid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And that the sweit bairne did win.<!-- Page 145 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And scho has taine out a little pen-knife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And low down by her gair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scho has twin'd the zong thing and his life;<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A word he nevir spak mair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And out and cam the thick thick bluid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And out and cam the thin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And out and cam the bonny herts bluid:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thair was nae life left in.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Scho laid him on a dressing borde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And drest him like a swine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And laughing said, "Gae nou and pley<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With zour sweit play-feres nine."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Scho rowd him in a cake of lead,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bade him lie stil and sleip;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scho cast him in a deip draw-well,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was fifty fadom deip.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quhan bells wer rung, and mass was sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And every lady went hame,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then ilka lady had her zong sonne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bot Lady Helen had nane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Scho rowd hir mantil hir about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sair sair gan she weip,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she ran into the Jewis castèl,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Quhan they wer all asleip.<!-- Page 146 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My bonny Sir Hew, my pretty Sir Hew,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I pray thee to me speik:"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O lady, rinn to the deip draw-well,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gin ze zour sonne wad seik."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lady Helen ran to the deip draw-well,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And knelt upon her kne:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My bonny Sir Hew, and ze be here,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I pray thee speik to me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The lead is wondrous heavy, mither,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The well is wondrous deip;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A keen pen-knife sticks in my hert,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A word I dounae speik.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gae hame, gae hame, my mither deir,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fetch me my windling sheet,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at the back o' Mirry-land toun,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Its thair we twa sall meet."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 147 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="SIR_PATRICK_SPENCE" id="SIR_PATRICK_SPENCE"></a>SIR PATRICK SPENCE.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Percy's <i>Reliques</i>, i. 81.</p> + + +<p>The event upon which this ballad is founded, if it +has been rightly ascertained, belongs to a remote +period in Scottish history. Margaret, the daughter +of Alexander III., was, in the year 1281, betrothed +to Eric, prince of Norway. The bride was conducted +to her husband by a splendid convoy of knights and +nobles, and in the month of August was crowned +queen. In returning from the celebration of the nuptials, +many of the Scottish escort were lost at sea, and +among those who perished was Sir Patrick Spence, we +are to suppose.</p> + +<p>It is in conformity with this view of the origin of +the ballad, (the suggestion of Motherwell,) that in +Buchan's version the object of the voyage is said to be +to take the king's daughter, now "a chosen queen," <i>to</i> +Norway. In Scott's edition, on the other hand, Sir +Patrick is deputed <i>to bring home</i> the king of Norway's +daughter. To explain this circumstance in the story, +Sir Walter is forced to suppose that an unsuccessful +and unrecorded embassy was sent, when the death of +Alexander III. had left the Scottish throne vacant, to +bring the only daughter of Eric and Margaret, styled +by historians the Maid of Norway, to the kingdom of +which, after her grandfather's demise, she became the<!-- Page 148 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> +heir. That such an embassy, attended with so disastrous +consequences to the distinguished persons who +would compose it, should be entirely unnoticed by the +chroniclers is, to say the least, exceedingly improbable.</p> + +<p>The question concerning the historical basis of the +ballad would naturally lose much of its interest, were +any importance attached to the arguments by which +its genuineness has been lately assailed. These are so +trivial as hardly to admit of a statement. The claims +of the composition to a high antiquity are first disputed, +(<i>Musical Museum</i>, new ed., iv. 457*,) on the ground +that such a piece was never heard of till it was sent to +Percy by some of his correspondents in Scotland, with +other ballads of (assumed) questionable authority. +But even the ballad of <i>Sir Hugh</i> is liable to any impeachment +that can be extracted from these circumstances, +since it was first made known by Percy, and +was transmitted to him from Scotland, (for aught we +know, in suspicious company,) while its story dates also +from the 13th century. Then, "an ingenious friend" +having remarked to Percy that some of the phrases of +<i>Hardyknute</i> seemed to have been borrowed from <i>Sir +Patrick Spence</i> and <i>other</i> old Scottish songs, this observation, +combined with the fact that the localities +of Dunfermline and Aberdour are in the neighborhood +of Sir Henry Wardlaw's estate, leads to a conjecture +that Lady Wardlaw may have been the author of <i>Sir +Patrick Spence</i>, as she is known to have been of +<i>Hardyknute</i>. It could never be deemed fair to argue +from those resemblances which give plausibility to a +counterfeit to the spuriousness of the original, but +in fact there is <i>no</i> resemblance in the two pieces. +<i>Hardyknute</i> is recognized at once by an ordinary critic<!-- Page 149 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> +to be a modern production, and is, notwithstanding +the praise it has received, a tame and tiresome one +besides. <i>Sir Patrick Spence</i>, on the other hand, if not +ancient, has been always accepted as such by the most +skilful judges, and is a solitary instance of a successful +imitation, in manner and spirit, of the best specimens +of authentic minstrelsy.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p> + +<p>It is not denied that this ballad has suffered, like +others, by corruption and interpolations, and it is not, +therefore, maintained that hats and cork-heeld shoon +are of the 13th century.</p> + +<p>We have assigned to Percy's copy the first place, +because its brevity and directness give it a peculiar +vigor. <a href="#SIR_PATRICK_SPENS">Scott's edition follows</a>, made up from two MS. +copies, (one of which has been printed in Jamieson's +<i>Popular Ballads</i>, i. 157,) collated with several verses +recited by a friend. Buchan's version, obtained from +recitation, is <a href="#SIR_PATRICK_SPENS_See_p_147">in the Appendix</a>. The variations in recited +copies are numerous: some specimens are given +by Motherwell, p. xlv.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The king sits in Dumferling<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> toune,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Drinking the blude-reid wine:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O quhar will I get guid sailor,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To sail this schip of mine?"<!-- Page 150 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up and spak an eldern knicht,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sat at the kings richt kne:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Sir Patrick Spence is the best sailor,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That sails upon the se."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The king has written a braid letter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And signd it wi' his hand,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sent it to Sir Patrick Spence,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was walking on the sand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The first line that Sir Patrick red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A loud lauch lauched he:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The next line that Sir Patrick red,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The teir blinded his ee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O quha is this has don this deid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This ill deid don to me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To send me out this time o' the zeir,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To sail upon the se?<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Mak hast, mak haste, my mirry men all,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Our guid schip sails the morne."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O say na sae, my master deir,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For I feir a deadlie storme.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Late late yestreen I saw the new moone<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' the auld moone in hir arme;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I feir, I feir, my deir master,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That we will com to harme."<!-- Page 151 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O our Scots nobles wer richt laith<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To weet their cork-heild schoone;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bot lang owre a' the play wer playd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thair hats they swam aboone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O lang, lang, may their ladies sit<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' thair fans into their hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or eir they se Sir Patrick Spence<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cum sailing to the land.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O lang, lang, may the ladies stand<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' thair gold kems in their hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waiting for thair ain deir lords,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For they'll se thame na mair.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_III_32a_41" id="LNanchor_III_32a_41"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_32a_41" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Have owre, have owre to Aberdour</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's fiftie fadom deip:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thair lies guid Sir Patrick Spence,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' the Scots lords at his feit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> This controversy has been recently re-opened by R. +Chambers, <i>The Romantic Scottish Ballads, their Epoch and +Authorship</i>, Edin. 1859; and in reply, <i>The Romantic Scottish +Ballads and the Lady Wardlaw Heresy</i>, by Norval Clyne, +Aberdeen, 1859.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> The palace of Dunfermline was the favorite residence +of King Alexander III.</p></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_III_32a_41" id="Linenote_III_32a_41"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_32a_41" title="link to line number">41</a>-44. "It is true that the name of Sir Patrick Spens is +not mentioned in history; but I am able to state that tradition +has preserved it. In the little island of Papa Stronsay, +one of the Orcadian group, lying over against Norway, there +is a large grave or tumulus, which has been known to the inhabitants, +from time immemorial, as 'The grave of Sir Patrick +Spens.' The Scottish ballads were not early current in +Orkney, a Scandinavian country; so it is very unlikely that +the poem could have originated the name. The people know +nothing beyond the traditional appellation of the spot, and +they have no legend to tell." Aytoun, <i>Ballads of Scotland</i>, i. +2.—This passage is cited simply as a piece of <i>external</i> evidence +to the antiquity of the legend of Sir Patrick Spens,—supposing +the matter of fact to be well established, and the +alleged tradition to be of long standing.</p> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 152 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="SIR_PATRICK_SPENS" id="SIR_PATRICK_SPENS"></a>SIR PATRICK SPENS.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border</i>, i. 299.</p> + + +<p>In singing, the interjection O is added to the second +and fourth lines.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The king sits in Dunfermline town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Drinking the blude-red wine:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O whare will I get a skeely skipper<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To sail this new ship of mine?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O up and spake an eldern knight,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sat at the king's right knee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ever sailed the sea."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Our king has written a braid letter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sealed it with his hand,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was walking on the strand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"To Noroway, to Noroway,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To Noroway o'er the faem;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The king's daughter of Noroway,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Tis thou maun bring her hame!"<!-- Page 153 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The first word that Sir Patrick read,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae loud loud laughed he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The neist word that Sir Patrick read,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The tear blindit his e'e.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O wha is this has done this deed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And tauld the king o' me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To send us out at this time of the year,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To sail upon the sea?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail, be it sleet,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Our ship must sail the faem;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The king's daughter of Noroway,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Tis we must fetch her hame."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' a' the speed they may;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">They hae landed in Noroway<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon a Wodensday.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They hadna been a week, a week,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In Noroway, but twae,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When that the lords o' Noroway<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Began aloud to say:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye Scottishmen spend a' our king's goud,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a' our queenis fee."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ye lie, ye lie, ye liars loud!<br /></span> +<!-- Page 154 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span><span class="i2">Fu' loud I hear ye lie!<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For I brought as much white monie<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As gane my men and me,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I brought a half-fou o' gude red goud<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Out o'er the sea wi' me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Make ready, make ready, my merrymen a'!<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Our gude ship sails the morn."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Now, ever alake! my master dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I fear a deadly storm!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I saw the new moon, late yestreen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' the auld moon in her arm;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if we gang to sea, master,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I fear we'll come to harm."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They hadna sailed a league, a league,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A league, but barely three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And gurly grew the sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The ankers brak, and the topmasts lap,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It was sic a deadly storm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the waves came o'er the broken ship,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till a' her sides were torn.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O where will I get a gude sailor,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To take my helm in hand,<!-- Page 155 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till I get up to the tall topmast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To see if I can spy land?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O here am I, a sailor gude,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To take the helm in hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till you go up to the tall topmast,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But I fear you'll ne'er spy land."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He hadna gane a step, a step,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A step, but barely ane,<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When a bout flew out of our goodly ship,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the salt sea it came in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gae fetch a web o' the silken claith,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Another o' the twine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wap them into our ship's side,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And letna the sea come in."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They fetched a web o' the silken claith,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Another o' the twine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they wapped them roun' that gude ship's side,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But still the sea came in.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O laith laith were our gude Scots lords<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To weet their cork-heeled shoon!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But lang or a' the play was played,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They wat their hats aboon.<!-- Page 156 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And mony was the feather-bed<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That flatter'd on the faem;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mony was the gude lord's son<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That never mair cam hame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The ladyes wrang their fingers white,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The maidens tore their hair;<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A' for the sake of their true loves,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For them they'll see nae mair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O lang lang may the ladyes sit,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' their fans into their hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before they see Sir Patrick Spens<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come sailing to the strand!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And lang lang may the maidens sit,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' their goud kaims in their hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A' waiting for their ain dear loves,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For them they'll see nae mair.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O forty miles off Aberdeen<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Tis fifty fathoms deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' the Scots lords at his feet.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /><p><!-- Page 157 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="BOOK_IV" id="BOOK_IV"></a>BOOK IV.</h2> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 159 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="KING_ESTMERE" id="KING_ESTMERE"></a>KING ESTMERE.</h3> + +<p class="center">From <i>Reliques of English Poetry</i>, i. 65.</p> + + +<p>"This romantic legend," says Percy, "is given from +two copies, one of them in the Editor's folio MS., but +which contained very great variations." This second +copy has been conjectured to be of Percy's own +making, the ballad never having been heard of by any +one else, out of his manuscript. Judging from the +internal evidence, the alterations made in the printed +text were not very serious.</p> + +<p>King Easter and King Wester have appeared in the +ballad of <i>Fause Foodrage</i>, (vol. iii. p. 40.) In another +version of the same, they are called the Eastmure king +and the Westmure king, (Motherwell's <i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. +lix.) There is also a tale cited in the <i>Complaynt of +Scotland</i>, (i. 98,) of a king of Estmureland that married +the daughter of the king of Westmureland. This +is plausibly supposed by Ritson to have been a romance +of Horn, in which case the two countries should mean +England and Ireland. King Esmer is one of King +Diderik's champions (in the Danish ballad, <i>Kong Diderik +og hans Kĉmper</i>), and the father of Svend Vonved +(in <i>Svend Vonved</i>). In the Flemish and German +romances of <i>The Knight of the Swan</i>, Essmer, or Esmerés, +is one of the seven sons of Oriant, and in <i>Le +Dit de Flourence de Romme</i> (Jubinal, <i>Nouveau Recueil +de Contes</i>, etc., i. 88), Esmère is a Roman prince. +(Grundtvig, i. 78, 236.) For the nonce, we are told<!-- Page 160 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> +that King Estmere was an English prince, and we may, +perhaps, infer from the eighth stanza that King Adland's +dominions were on the same island. But no +subject of inquiry can be more idle than the geography +of the romances.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hearken to me, gentlemen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come and you shall heare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ile tell you of two of the boldest brethren,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ever born y-were.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The tone of them was Adler yonge,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The tother was kyng Estmere;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They were as bolde men in their deedes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As any were, farr and neare.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As they were drinking ale and wine<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Within kyng Estmeres halle,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"When will ye marry a wyfe, brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A wyfe to gladd us all?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then bespake him kyng Estmere,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And answered him hartilye:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I knowe not that ladye in any lande,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That is able to marry with mee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Kyng Adland hath a daughter, brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Men call her bright and sheene;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I were kyng here in your stead,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 161 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span><span class="i2">That ladye shold be queene."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sayes, "Reade me, reade me, deare brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Throughout merry England,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where we might find a messenger<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Betweene us two to sende."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sayes, "You shall ryde yourselfe, brother,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ile beare you companee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_IV_1_27" id="LNanchor_IV_1_27"></a><a href="#Linenote_IV_1_27" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Many throughe fals messengers are deceived</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I feare lest soe shold wee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus they renisht them to ryde<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On twoe good renisht steedes,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when they came to kyng Adlands halle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of red golde shone their weedes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when they came to kyng Adlands halle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before the goodlye yate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ther they found good kyng Adland,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rearing himselfe theratt.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nowe Christ thee save, good kyng Adland,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nowe Christ thee save and see:"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sayd, "You be welcome, kyng Estmere,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Right hartilye to mee."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"You have a daughter," sayd Adler yonge,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Men call her bright and sheene;<!-- Page 162 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">My brother wold marrye her to his wiffe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of Englande to be queene."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yesterdaye was att my dere daughter<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The king his sonne of Spayn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then she nicked him of naye;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I feare sheele do youe the same."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The kyng of Spayne is a foule paynim,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And 'leeveth on Mahound,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pitye it were that fayre ladye<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shold marrye a heathen hound."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But grant to me," sayes kyng Estmere,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"For my love I you praye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I may see your daughter dere<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before I goe hence awaye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Althoughe itt is seven yeare and more<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Syth my daughter was in halle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She shall come downe once for your sake,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To glad my guestès alle."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Downe then came that mayden fayre,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With ladyes lacede in pall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And halfe a hondred of bolde knightes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To bring her from bowre to hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And eke as manye gentle squieres,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To waite upon them all.<!-- Page 163 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The talents of golde were on her head sette,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hunge lowe downe to her knee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And everye rynge on her small finger<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shone of the chrystall free.<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sayes, "Christ you save, my deare madame,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sayes, "Christ you save and see:"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sayes, "You be welcome, kyng Estmere,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Right welcome unto mee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And iff you love me, as you saye,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">So well and hartilee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All that ever you are comen about<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Soone sped now itt may bee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then bespake her father deare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"My daughter, I saye naye;<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remember well the kyng of Spayne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What he sayd yesterdaye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He wold pull downe my halles and castles,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And reave me of my lyfe:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ever I feare that paynim kyng,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Iff I reave him of his wyfe."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Your castles and your towres, father,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Are stronglye built aboute;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And therefore of that foule paynim<br /></span> +<!-- Page 164 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span><span class="i2">Wee neede not stande in doubte.<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Plyght me your troth nowe, kyng Estmere,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By heaven and your righte hande,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That you will marrye me to your wyfe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And make me queene of your land."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then kyng Estmere he plight his troth<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">By heaven and his righte hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he wolde marrye her to his wyfe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And make her queene of his land.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he tooke leave of that ladye fayre,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To goe to his owne countree,<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To fetche him dukes and lordes and knightes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That marryed they might bee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They had not ridden scant a myle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A myle forthe of the towne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in did come the kynge of Spayne,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">With kempès many a one:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But in did come the kyng of Spayne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With manye a grimme barone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tone day to marrye kyng Adlands daughter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tother daye to carrye her home.<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then shee sent after kyng Estmere,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In all the spede might bee,<!-- Page 165 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he must either returne and fighte,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or goe home and lose his ladye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One whyle then the page he went,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Another whyle he ranne;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till he had oretaken king Estmere,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Iwis he never blanne.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Tydinges, tydinges, kyng Estmere!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"What tydinges nowe, my boye?"<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O tydinges I can tell to you,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That will you sore annoye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"You had not ridden scant a myle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A myle out of the towne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in did come the kyng of Spayne<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">With kempès many a one:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But in did come the kyng of Spayne<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With manye a grimme barone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tone day to marrye kyng Adlands daughter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tother daye to carrye her home.<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"That ladye fayre she greetes you well,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ever-more well by mee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You must either turne againe and fighte,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or goe home and lose your ladye."<!-- Page 166 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sayes, "Reade me, reade me, deare brother,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">My reade shall <a name="LNanchor_IV_1_136" id="LNanchor_IV_1_136"></a><a href="#Linenote_IV_1_136" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">ryse</a> at thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whiche way we best may turne and fighte,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To save this fayre ladye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now hearken to me," sayes Adler yonge,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"And your reade must rise at me;<a name="LNanchor_IV_1_140" id="LNanchor_IV_1_140"></a><span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I quicklye will devise a waye<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To sette thy ladye free.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My mother was a westerne woman,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And learned in gramarye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when I learned at the schole,<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Something shee taught itt me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There groweth an hearbe within this fielde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And iff it were but knowne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His color which is whyte and redd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It will make blacke and browne.<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"His color which is browne and blacke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Itt will make redd and whyte;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That sword is not in all Englande,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon his coate will byte.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And you shal be a harper, brother,<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Out of the north countree;<!-- Page 167 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Ile be your boye, so faine of fighte,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To beare your harpe by your knee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And you shall be the best harper<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ever tooke harpe in hand;<span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I will be the best singer<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ever sung in this land.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Itt shal be written in our forheads,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All and in grammarye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That we towe are the boldest men<span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That are in all Christentye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And thus they renisht them to ryde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On towe good renish steedes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whan they came to king Adlands hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of redd gold shone their weedes.<span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And whan they came to kyng Adlands hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Untill the fayre hall yate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There they found a proud porter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rearing himselfe theratt.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sayes, "Christ thee save, thou proud porter,"<span class="linenum">175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sayes, "Christ thee save and see:"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nowe you be welcome," sayd the porter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Of what land soever ye bee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"We been harpers," sayd Adler yonge,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 168 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span><span class="i2">"Come out of the northe countree;<span class="linenum">180</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">We beene come hither untill this place,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This proud weddinge for to see."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sayd, "And your color were white and redd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As it is blacke and browne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ild saye king Estmere and his brother<span class="linenum">185</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Were comen untill this towne."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_IV_1_187" id="LNanchor_IV_1_187"></a><a href="#Linenote_IV_1_187" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Then they pulled out a ryng of gold</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><a href="#Linenote_IV_1_187" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Layd itt on the porters arme</a>:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And ever we will thee, proud porter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thow wilt saye us no harme."<span class="linenum">190</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sore he looked on kyng Estmere,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sore he handled the ryng,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then opened to them the fayre hall yates,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He lett for no kind of thyng.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Kyng Estmere he light off his steede,<span class="linenum">195</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Up att the fayre hall board;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The frothe that came from his brydle bitte<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Light on kyng Bremors beard.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sayes, "Stable thy steede, thou proud harper,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Go stable him in the stalle;<span class="linenum">200</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Itt doth not beseeme a proud harper<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To stable him in a kyngs halle."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My ladd he is so lither," he sayd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"He will do nought that's meete;<!-- Page 169 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And aye that I cold but find the man,<span class="linenum">205</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Were able him to beate."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thou speakst proud words," sayd the paynim king,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Thou harper, here to mee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is a man within this halle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That will beate thy lad and thee."<span class="linenum">210</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O lett that man come downe," he sayd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"A sight of him wold I see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whan hee hath beaten well my ladd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then he shall beate of mee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Downe then came the kemperye man,<span class="linenum">215</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And looked him in the eare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For all the gold that was under heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He durst not neigh him neare.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And how nowe, kempe," sayd the kyng of Spayne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"And how what aileth thee?"<span class="linenum">220</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sayes, "Itt is written in his forhead,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All and in gramarye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That for all the gold that is under heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I dare not neigh him nye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Kyng Estmere then pulled forth his harpe,<span class="linenum">225</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And played thereon so sweete:<!-- Page 170 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upstarte the ladye from the kynge,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As hee sate at the meate.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now stay thy harpe, thou proud harper,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Now stay thy harpe, I say;<span class="linenum">230</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For an thou playest as thou beginnest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thou'lt till my bride awaye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He strucke upon his harpe agayne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And playd both fayre and free;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ladye was so pleasde theratt,<span class="linenum">235</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">She laught loud laughters three.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nowe sell me thy harpe," sayd the kyng of Spayne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Thy harpe and stryngs eche one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as many gold nobles thou shalt have,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As there be stryngs thereon."<span class="linenum">240</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And what wold ye doe with my harpe," he sayd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Iff I did sell it yee?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"To playe my wiffe and me a fitt,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When abed together we bee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now sell me," quoth hee, "thy bryde soe gay,<span class="linenum">245</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As shee sitts laced in pall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as many gold nobles I will give,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As there be rings in the hall."<!-- Page 171 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And what wold ye doe with my bryde soe gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Iff I did sell her yee?<span class="linenum">250</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">More seemelye it is for her fayre bodye<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To lye by mee than thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hee played agayne both loud and shrille,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Adler he did syng,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O ladye, this is thy owne true love;<span class="linenum">255</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Noe harper, but a kyng.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O ladye, this is thy owne true love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As playnlye thou mayest see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Ile rid thee of that foule paynim,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who partes thy love and thee."<span class="linenum">260</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The ladye looked, the ladye blushte,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And blushte and lookt agayne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Adler he hath drawne his brande,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And hath the Sowdan slayne.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up then rose the kemperye men,<span class="linenum">265</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And loud they gan to crye:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ah! traytors, yee have slayne our kyng,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And therefore yee shall dye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Kyng Estmere threwe the harpe asyde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And swith he drew his brand;<span class="linenum">270</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Estmere he, and Adler yonge,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Right stiffe in stour can stand.<!-- Page 172 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And aye their swordes soe sore can byte,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Through helpe of gramarye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That soone they have slayne the kempery men,<span class="linenum">275</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or forst them forth to flee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Kyng Estmere tooke that fayre ladye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And marryed her to his wiffe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And brought her home to merrye England,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With her to leade his life.<span class="linenum">280</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_IV_1_27" id="Linenote_IV_1_27"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IV_1_27" title="link to line number">27</a>. MS. Many a man ... is.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_IV_1_136" id="Linenote_IV_1_136"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IV_1_136" title="link to line number">136</a>. MS. ryde, but see v. <a href="#LNanchor_IV_1_140" title="link to line number">140</a>.</p> + +<p>v. <a name="Linenote_IV_1_187" id="Linenote_IV_1_187"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IV_1_187" title="link to line number">187</a>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then they pulled out a ryng of gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Layd itt on the porters arme.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The rings so often used in ballads to conciliate the porter +would seem to be not personal ornaments, but coins. For an +account of Ring Money, see the paper of Sir William Betham, +in the seventeenth volume of the <i>Transactions of the Royal +Irish Academy</i>.</p> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 173 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="SIR_CAULINE" id="SIR_CAULINE"></a>SIR CAULINE.</h3> + +<p class="center">From <i>Reliques of English Poetry</i>, i. 44.</p> + + +<p>"This old romantic tale," says Percy, "was preserved +in the Editor's folio MS., but in so very defective +and mutilated a condition, (not from any chasm in +the MS., but from great omission in the transcript, +probably copied from the faulty recitation of some illiterate +minstrel,) that it was necessary to supply several +stanzas in the first part, and still more in the second, +to connect and complete the story."</p> + +<p>Many of the interpolations acknowledged in such +general terms might with some confidence be pointed +out. Among them are certainly most, if not all, of the +last twelve stanzas of the Second Part, which include +the catastrophe to the story. It is difficult to believe +that this charming romance had so tragic and so sentimental +a conclusion.</p> + +<p>The first part of this ballad is preserved in Scotland, +under the title of <i>King Malcolm and Sir Colvin</i>, and +is printed in our Appendix from Buchan's collection. +In this, Sir Colvin weds the princess after his victory +over the Elrick knight.<!-- Page 174 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p> + + +<h4>THE FIRST PART.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In Ireland, ferr over the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There dwelleth a bonnye kinge;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with him a yong and comlye knighte,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Men call him Syr Cauline.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The kinge had a ladye to his daughter,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">In fashyon she hath no peere;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And princely wightes that ladye wooed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To be theyr wedded feere.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Syr Cauline loveth her best of all,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But nothing durst he saye,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ne descreeve his counsayl to no man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But deerlye he lovde this may.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Till on a daye it so beffell<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Great dill to him was dight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The maydens love removde his mynd,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To care-bed went the knighte.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One while he spred his armes him fro,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One while he spred them nye:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And aye! but I winne that ladyes love,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 175 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span><span class="i2">For dole now I mun dye."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And whan our parish-masse was done,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Our kinge was bowne to dyne:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sayes, "Where is Syr Cauline,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That is wont to serve the wyne?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then aunswerde him a courteous knighte,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fast his handes gan wringe:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Syr Cauline is sicke, and like to dye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Without a good leechinge."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Fetche me downe my daughter deere,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She is a leeche fulle fine;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Goe take him doughe and the baken bread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And serve him with the wyne soe red:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lothe I were him to tine."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair Christabelle to his chaumber goes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her maydens followyng nye:<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O well," she sayth, "how doth my lord?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"O sicke, thou fayr ladye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nowe ryse up wightlye, man, for shame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Never lye soe cowardlee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For it is told in my fathers halle<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">You dye for love of mee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Fayre ladye, it is for your love<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That all this dill I drye:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For if you wold comfort me with a kisse,<!-- Page 176 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then were I brought from bale to blisse,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">No lenger wold I lye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sir knighte, my father is a kinge,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I am his onlye heire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas! and well you knowe, syr knighte,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I never can be youre fere."<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O ladye, thou art a kinges daughter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I am not thy peere;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But let me doe some deedes of armes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To be your bacheleere."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Some deedes of armes if thou wilt doe,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">My bacheleere to bee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(But ever and aye my heart wold rue,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Giff harm shold happe to thee,)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Upon Eldridge hill there groweth a thorne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon the mores brodinge;<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dare ye, syr knighte, wake there all nighte,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Untile the fayre morninge?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For the Eldridge knighte, so mickle of mighte,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will examine you beforne;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And never man bare life awaye,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But he did him scath and scorne.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"That knighte he is a foul paynim,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And large of limb and bone;<!-- Page 177 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And but if heaven may be thy speede,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy life it is but gone."<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nowe on the Eldridge hilles Ile walke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For thy sake, fair ladie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Ile either bring you a ready token,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or Ile never more you see."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The lady has gone to her own chaumbere,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her maydens following bright;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Syr Cauline lope from care-bed soone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to the Eldridge hills is gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For to wake there all night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Unto midnight, that the moone did rise,<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He walked up and downe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then a lightsome bugle heard he blowe<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Over the bents soe browne;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quoth hee, "If cryance come till my heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I am ffar from any good towne."<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And soone he spyde on the mores so broad<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A furyous wight and fell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A ladye bright his brydle led,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Clad in a fayre kyrtell:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And soe fast he called on Syr Cauline,<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"O man, I rede thee flye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_IV_2_92" id="LNanchor_IV_2_92"></a><a href="#Linenote_IV_2_92" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">For but if</a> cryance come till thy heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I weene but thou mun dye."<!-- Page 178 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He sayth, "<a name="LNanchor_IV_2_94" id="LNanchor_IV_2_94"></a><a href="#Linenote_IV_2_94" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">No cryance comes till my heart</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor, in faith, I wyll not flee;<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, cause thou minged not Christ before,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The less me dreadeth thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Eldridge knighte, he pricked his steed;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Syr Cauline bold abode:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then either shooke his trustye speare,<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the timber these two children bare<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Soe soone in sunder slode.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then tooke they out theyr two good swordes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And layden on full faste,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till helme and hawberke, mail and sheelde,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">They all were well-nye brast.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Eldridge knight was mickle of might,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And stiffe in stower did stande;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Syr Cauline with an aukeward stroke<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He smote off his right-hand;<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That soone he, with paine and lacke of bloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fell downe on that lay-land.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up Syr Cauline lift his brande<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All over his head so hye:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And here I sweare by the holy roode,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nowe, caytiffe, thou shalt dye."<!-- Page 179 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up and came that ladye brighte,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Faste ringing of her hande:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"For the maydens love, that most you love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Withhold that deadlye brande:<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For the maydens love that most you love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Now smyte no more I praye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And aye whatever thou wilt, my lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He shall thy hests obaye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now sweare to mee, thou Eldridge knighte,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And here on this lay-land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That thou wilt believe on Christ his laye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And therto plight thy hand:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And that thou never on Eldridge [hill] come<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To sporte, gamon, or playe;<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that thou here give up thy armes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Until thy dying daye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Eldridge knighte gave up his armes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With many a sorrowfulle sighe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sware to obey Syr Caulines hest,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till the tyme that he shold dye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he then up, and the Eldridge knighte<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sett him in his saddle anone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the Eldridge knighte and his ladye,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 180 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span><span class="i2">To theyr castle are they gone.<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then he tooke up the bloudy hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That was so large of bone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on it he founde five ringes of gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of knightes that had be slone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then he tooke up the Eldridge sworde,<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As hard as any flint;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he tooke off those ringes five,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As bright as fyre and brent.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Home then pricked Syr Cauline,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As light as leafe on tree;<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I-wys he neither stint ne blanne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till he his ladye see.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then downe he knelt upon his knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before that lady gay:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O ladye, I have bin on the Eldridge hills;<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">These tokens I bring away."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now welcome, welcome, Syr Cauline,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thrice welcome unto mee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For now I perceive thou art a true knighte,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of valour bolde and free."<span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O ladye, I am thy own true knighte,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy hests for to obaye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mought I hope to winne thy love!"—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">No more his tonge colde say.<!-- Page 181 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The ladye blushed scarlette redde,<span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fette a gentill sighe:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Alas! syr knight, how may this bee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For my degree's soe highe?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But sith thou hast hight, thou comely youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To be my batchilere,<span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ile promise, if thee I may not wedde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I will have none other fere."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then shee held forthe her liley-white hand<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Towards that knighte so free;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He gave to it one gentill kisse,<span class="linenum">175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">His heart was brought from bale to blisse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The teares sterte from his ee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But keep my counsayl, Syr Cauline,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ne let no man it knowe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, and ever my father sholde it ken,<span class="linenum">180</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wot he wolde us sloe."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From that daye forthe, that ladye fayre<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lovde Syr Cauline the knighte;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From that daye forthe, he only joyde<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whan shee was in his sight.<span class="linenum">185</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, and oftentimes they mette<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Within a fayre arboure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where they, in love and sweet daliaunce,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Past manye a pleasaunt houre.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_IV_2_92" id="Linenote_IV_2_92"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IV_2_92" title="link to line number">92</a>, MS. For if.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_IV_2_94" id="Linenote_IV_2_94"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IV_2_94" title="link to line number">94</a>, No inserted.</p> +</div> + +<p><!-- Page 182 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p> +<h4>THE SECOND PART.</h4> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Everye white will have its blacke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And everye sweete its sowre:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This founde the Ladye Christabelle<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In an untimely howre.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For so it befelle, as Syr Cauline<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was with that ladye faire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The kinge, her father, walked forthe<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To take the evenyng aire:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And into the arboure as he went<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To rest his wearye feet,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He found his daughter and Syr Cauline<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There sette in daliaunce sweet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The kinge hee sterted forthe, i-wys,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And an angrye man was hee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nowe, traytoure, thou shalt hange or drawe<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And rewe shall thy ladie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then forthe Syr Cauline he was ledde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And throwne in dungeon deepe:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the ladye into a towre so hye,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 183 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span><span class="i2">There left to wayle and weepe.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The queene she was Syr Caulines friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And to the kinge sayd shee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I praye you save Syr Caulines life,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And let him banisht bee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now, dame, that traitor shall be sent<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Across the salt sea fome:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But here I will make thee a band,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If ever he come within this land,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A foule deathe is his doome."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All woe-begone was that gentil knight<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To parte from his ladye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And many a time he sighed sore,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And cast a wistfulle eye:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Faire Christabelle, from thee to parte,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Farre lever had I dye."<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair Christabelle, that ladye bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was had forthe of the towre;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ever shee droopeth in her minde,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As, nipt by an ungentle winde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Doth some faire lillye flowre.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And ever shee doth lament and weepe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To tint her lover soe:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Syr Cauline, thou little think'st on mee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But I will still be true."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Manye a kinge, and manye a duke,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lorde of high degree,<!-- Page 184 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did sue to that fayre ladye of love;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But never shee wolde them nee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When manye a daye was past and gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ne comforte she colde finde,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The kynge proclaimed a tourneament,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To cheere his daughters mind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And there came lords, and there came knights,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fro manye a farre countrye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To break a spere for theyr ladyes love,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before that faire ladye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And many a ladye there was sette,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In purple and in palle;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But faire Christabelle, soe woe-begone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was the fayrest of them all.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then manye a knighte was mickle of might,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before his ladye gaye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a stranger wight, whom no man knewe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He wan the prize eche daye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His acton it was all of blacke,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">His hewberke and his sheelde;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ne noe man wist whence he did come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ne noe man knewe where he did gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><a name="LNanchor_IV_2b_69" id="LNanchor_IV_2b_69"></a><a href="#Linenote_IV_2b_69" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">When they came out the feelde</a>.<!-- Page 185 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now three days were prestlye past<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">In feates of chivalrye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When lo, upon the fourth morninge,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A sorrowfulle sight they see:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A hugye giaunt stiffe and starke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All foule of limbe and lere,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two goggling eyen like fire farden,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A mouthe from eare to eare.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Before him came a dwarffe full lowe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That waited on his knee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at his backe five heads he bare,<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">All wan and pale of blee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sir," quoth the dwarffe, and louted lowe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Behold that hend Soldain!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold these heads I beare with me!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They are kings which he hath slain.<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The Eldridge knight is his own cousine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whom a knight of thine hath shent;<!-- Page 186 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hee is come to avenge his wrong:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to thee, all thy knightes among,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Defiance here hath sent.<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But yette he will appease his wrath,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy daughters love to winne;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, but thou yeelde him that fayre mayd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy halls and towers must brenne.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thy head, syr king, must goe with mee,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or else thy daughter deere:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or else within these lists soe broad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thou must finde him a peere."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The king he turned him round aboute,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And in his heart was woe:<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Is there never a knighte of my round table<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This matter will undergoe?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Is there never a knighte amongst yee all<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will fight for my daughter and mee?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whoever will fight yon grimme Soldan,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Right fair his meede shall bee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For hee shall have my broad lay-lands,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And of my crowne be heyre;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he shall winne fayre Christabelle<br /></span> +<!-- Page 187 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span><span class="i2">To be his wedded fere."<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But every knighte of his round table<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Did stand both still and pale;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, whenever they lookt on the grim Soldan,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It made their hearts to quail.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All woe-begone was that fayre ladye,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">When she sawe no helpe was nye:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She cast her thought on her owne true-love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the teares gusht from her eye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up then sterte the stranger knighte,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sayd, "Ladye, be not affrayd;<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ile fight for thee with this grimme Soldan,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thoughe he be unmacklye made.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And if thou wilt lend me the Eldridge sworde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That lyeth within thy bowre,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I truste in Christe for to slay this fiende,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thoughe he be stiff in stowre."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Goe fetch him downe the Eldridge sworde,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The kinge he cryde, "with speede:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nowe, heaven assist thee, courteous knighte;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My daughter is thy meede."<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The gyaunt he stepped into the lists,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sayd, "Awaye, awaye!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I sweare, as I am the hend Soldan,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thou lettest me here all daye."<!-- Page 188 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then forthe the stranger knight he came,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">In his blacke armoure dight:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ladye sighed a gentle sighe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That this were my true knighte!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And nowe the gyaunt and knight be mett<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Within the lists soe broad;<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now, with swordes soe sharpe of steele,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They gan to lay on load.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Soldan strucke the knighte a stroke<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That made him reele asyde:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then woe-begone was that fayre ladye,<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And thrice she deeply sighde.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Soldan strucke a second stroke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And made the bloude to flowe:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All pale and wan was that ladye fayre,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And thrice she wept for woe.<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Soldan strucke a third fell stroke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which brought the knighte on his knee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sad sorrow pierced that ladyes heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she shriekt loud shriekings three.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The knighte he leapt upon his feete,<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">All recklesse of the pain:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quoth hee, "But heaven be now my speede,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or else I shall be slaine."<!-- Page 189 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He grasped his sworde with mayne and mighte,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And spying a secrette part,<span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He drave it into the Soldans syde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And pierced him to the heart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then all the people gave a shoute,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whan they sawe the Soldan falle:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ladye wept, and thanked Christ<span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That had reskewed her from thrall.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And nowe the kinge, with all his barons,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rose uppe from offe his seate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And downe he stepped into the listes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That curteous knighte to greete.<span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But he, for payne and lacke of bloude,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was fallen into a swounde,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there, all walteringe in his gore,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lay lifelesse on the grounde.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come downe, come downe, my daughter deare,<span class="linenum">175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thou art a leeche of skille;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Farre lever had I lose halfe my landes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than this good knighte sholde spille."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Downe then steppeth that fayre ladye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To helpe him if she maye:<span class="linenum">180</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when she did his beavere raise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It is my life, my lord!" she sayes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And shriekte and swound awaye.<!-- Page 190 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sir Cauline juste lifte up his eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When he heard his ladye crye:<span class="linenum">185</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O ladye, I am thine owne true love;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For thee I wisht to dye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then giving her one partinge looke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He closed his eyes in death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere Christabelle, that ladye milde,<span class="linenum">190</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Begane to drawe her breathe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But when she found her comelye knighte<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Indeed was dead and gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She layde her pale, cold cheeke to his,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And thus she made her moane:<span class="linenum">195</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O staye, my deare and onlye lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For mee, thy faithfulle feere;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis meet that I shold followe thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who hast bought my love so deare."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then fayntinge in a deadlye swoune,<span class="linenum">200</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And with a deep-fette sighe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That burst her gentle heart in twayne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fayre Christabelle did dye.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><a name="Linenote_IV_2b_69" id="Linenote_IV_2b_69"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IV_2b_69" title="link to line number">69</a>. "Syr Cauline here acts up to the genuine spirit of perfect +chivalry. In old romances no incident is of more frequent +occurrence than this, of knights already distinguished +for feats of arms laying aside their wonted cognizances, and, +under the semblance of stranger knights, manfully performing +right worshipful and valiant deeds. How often is the +renowned Arthur, in such exhibitions, obliged to exclaim, +"O Jhesu, what knight is that arrayed all in grene (or as +the case may be)? he justeth myghtily!" The Emperor +of Almaine, in like manner, after the timely succor afforded +him by Syr Gowghter, is anxious to learn the name of his +modest but unknown deliverer." [So in the romance of +<i>Roswall and Lillian</i>, &c.]—<span class="smcap">Motherwell.</span></p> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 191 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="FAIR_ANNIE" id="FAIR_ANNIE"></a>FAIR ANNIE.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border</i>, iii. 252.</p> + + +<p>The story of <i>Fair Annie</i> is widely disseminated. +The substance of it is found in the beautiful romance +of Marie de France, the <i>Lai le Frein</i>, of which an +ancient English translation is printed in Weber's +<i>Metrical Romances</i>, i. 357. The Swedish and Danish +ballads go under the same name of <i>Fair Anna</i>, and +may be seen in Arwidsson's <i>Svenska Fornsċnger</i>, i. +291; Geijer's <i>Svenska Folk-Visor</i>, i. 24; and Nyerup's +<i>Danske Viser</i>, iv. 59. Jamieson has rendered the +Danish ballad very skilfully, in the Scottish dialect, +from Syv's edition of the <i>Kĉmpe Viser</i>. In Dutch, +the characters are Maid Adelhaid and King Alewijn +(Hoffmann's <i>Holländische Volkslieder</i>, 164.) The story +as we have found it in German is considerably changed. +See <i>Die wiedergefundene Königstochter</i>, in <i>Des Knaben +Wunderhorn</i>, ii. 274, and <i>Südeli</i>, Uhland's <i>Volkslieder</i>, +i. 273.</p> + +<p>The Scottish versions of <i>Fair Annie</i> are quite +numerous. A fragment of eight stanzas was published +in Herd's collection, (<i>Wha will bake my bridal +bread</i>, ed. 1776, i. 167.) Sir Walter Scott gave a<!-- Page 192 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> +complete copy, from recitation in the <i>Minstrelsy of +the Scottish Border</i>. Two other copies, also from oral +tradition, were inserted by Jamieson in the Appendix +to his <i>Popular Ballads</i>, (<i>Lady Jane</i>, ii. 371, <i>Burd +Helen</i>, ii. 376,) and from these he constructed the +edition of <i>Lady Jane</i>, printed at p. 73 of the same +volume. Motherwell (<i>Minstrelsy</i>) affords still another +variety, and Chambers has compiled a ballad from +all these sources and a manuscript furnished by Mr. +Kinloch, (<i>Scottish Ballads</i>, p. 186.)</p> + +<p>In this collection we have adopted the versions of +Scott and <a href="#FAIR_ANNIE_2">Motherwell</a>, giving Jamieson's translation +of <i>Skjœn Anna</i> <a href="#SKIOEN_ANNA_FAIR_ANNIE_See_p_191">in our Appendix</a>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It's narrow, narrow, make your bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And learn to lie your lane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'm gaun o'er the sea, Fair Annie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A braw bride to bring hame.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wi' her I will get gowd and gear;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' you I ne'er got nane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But wha will bake my bridal bread,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or brew my bridal ale?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wha will welcome my brisk bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That I bring o'er the dale?"—<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It's I will bake your bridal bread,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And brew your bridal ale;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I will welcome your brisk bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That you bring o'er the dale."<!-- Page 193 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But she that welcomes my brisk bride<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Maun gang like maiden fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She maun lace on her robe sae jimp,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And braid her yellow hair."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But how can I gang maiden-like,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When maiden I am nane?<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have I not born seven sons to thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And am with child again?"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's ta'en her young son in her arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Another in her hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she's up to the highest tower,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To see him come to land.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come up, come up, my eldest son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And look o'er yon sea-strand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And see your father's new-come bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before she come to land."—<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come down, come down, my mother dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come frae the castle wa'!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I fear, if langer ye stand there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye'll let yoursell down fa'."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And she gaed down, and farther down,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her love's ship for to see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the topmast and the mainmast<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shone like the silver free.<!-- Page 194 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And she's gane down, and farther down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The bride's ship to behold;<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the topmast and the mainmast<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They shone just like the gold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's ta'en her seven sons in her hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wot she didna fail!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She met Lord Thomas and his bride,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As they came o'er the dale.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"You're welcome to your house, Lord Thomas;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You're welcome to your land;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You're welcome, with your fair ladye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That you lead by the hand.<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"You're welcome to your ha's, ladye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your welcome to your bowers;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You're welcome to your hame, ladye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For a' that's here is yours."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I thank thee, Annie; I thank thee, Annie;<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae dearly as I thank thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You're the likest to my sister Annie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ever I did see.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There came a knight out o'er the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And steal'd my sister away;<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shame scoup in his company,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And land where'er he gae!"<!-- Page 195 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She hang ae napkin at the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Another in the ha';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a' to wipe the trickling tears,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae fast as they did fa'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And aye she served the lang tables<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With white bread and with wine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And aye she drank the wan water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To had her colour fine.<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And aye she served the lang tables,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With white bread and with brown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ay she turn'd her round about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae fast the tears fell down.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he's ta'en down the silk napkin,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hung on a silver pin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And aye he wipes the tear trickling<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Adown her cheek and chin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And aye he turn'd him round about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And smiled amang his men,<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says—"Like ye best the old ladye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or her that's new come hame?"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When bells were rung, and mass was sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a' men bound to bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord Thomas and his new-come bride,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To their chamber they were gaed.<!-- Page 196 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Annie made her bed a little forbye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To hear what they might say;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And ever alas!" fair Annie cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That I should see this day!<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gin my seven sons were seven young rats,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Running on the castle wa',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I were a grey cat mysell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I soon would worry them a'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gin my seven sons were seven young hares,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Running o'er yon lilly lee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I were a grew hound mysell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Soon worried they a' should be."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And wae and sad fair Annie sat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And drearie was her sang;<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ever, as she sobb'd and grat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Wae to the man that did the wrang!"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My gown is on," said the new-come bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"My shoes are on my feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I will to fair Annie's chamber,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And see what gars her greet.—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What ails ye, what ails ye, Fair Annie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ye make sic a moan?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has your wine barrels cast the girds,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 197 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span><span class="i2">Or is your white bread gone?<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O wha was't was your father, Annie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or wha was't was your mother?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And had you ony sister, Annie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or had you ony brother?"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The Earl of Wemyss was my father,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Countess of Wemyss my mother;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a' the folk about the house,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To me were sister and brother."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If the Earl of Wemyss was your father,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wot sae was he mine;<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And it shall not be for lack o' gowd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ye your love sall tyne.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For I have seven ships o' mine ain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A' loaded to the brim;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I will gie them a' to thee,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' four to thine eldest son.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But thanks to a' the powers in heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That I gae maiden hame!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 198 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="FAIR_ANNIE_2" id="FAIR_ANNIE_2"></a>FAIR ANNIE.</h3> + +<p class="center">Motherwell's <i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. 327. Obtained from recitation.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Learn to mak your bed, Annie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And learn to lie your lane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I maun owre the salt seas gang,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A brisk bride to bring hame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Bind up, bind up your yellow hair,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And tye it in your neck;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And see you look as maiden-like<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As the day that we first met."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O how can I look maiden-like,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When maiden I'll ne'er be;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When seven brave sons I've born to thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the eighth is in my bodie?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The eldest of your sons, my lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' red gold shines his weed;<!-- Page 199 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The second of your sons, my lord,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rides on a milk-white steed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And the third of your sons, my lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He draws your beer and wine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the fourth of your sons, my lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Can serve you when you dine.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And the fift of your sons, my lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He can both read and write;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the sixth of your sons, my lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Can do it most perfyte.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And the sevent of your sons, my lord,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sits on the nurse's knee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And how can I look maiden-like,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When a maid I'll never be?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But wha will bake your wedding bread,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And brew your bridal ale?<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or wha will welcome your brisk bride<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That you bring owre the dale?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'll put cooks in my kitchen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And stewards in my hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'll have bakers for my bread,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And brewers for my ale;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But you're to welcome my brisk bride<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That I bring owre the dale."<!-- Page 200 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He set his feet into his ship,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And his cock-boat on the main;<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He swore it would be year and day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or he returned again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When year and day was past and gane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fair Annie she thocht lang;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she is up to her bower head,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To behold both sea and land.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come up, come up, my eldest son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And see now what you see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O yonder comes your father dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And your stepmother to be."<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Cast off your gown of black, mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Put on your gown of brown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'll put off my mourning weeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And we'll welcome him home."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's taken wine into her hand,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she has taken bread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she is down to the water side<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To welcome them indeed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"You're welcome, my lord, you're welcome, my lord,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 201 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span><span class="i2">You're welcome home to me;<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">So is every lord and gentleman<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That is in your companie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"You're welcome, my lady, you're welcome, my lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You're welcome home to me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So is every lady and gentleman<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That's in your companie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I thank you, my girl, I thank you, my girl,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I thank you heartily;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I live seven years about this house,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rewarded you shall be."<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She serv'd them up, she serv'd them down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With the wheat bread and the wine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But aye she drank the cauld water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To keep her colour fine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She serv'd them up, she serv'd them down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With the wheat bread and the beer;<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But aye she drank the cauld water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To keep her colour clear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When bells were rung and mass was sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And all were boune for rest,<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair Annie laid her sons in bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a sorrowfu' woman she was.<!-- Page 202 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Will I go to the salt, salt seas,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And see the fishes swim?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or will I go to the gay green wood,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And hear the small birds sing?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out and spoke an aged man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That stood behind the door,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ye will not go to the salt, salt seas,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To see the fishes swim;<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor will ye go to the gay green wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To hear the small birds sing:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But ye'll take a harp into your hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Go to their chamber door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And aye ye'll harp and aye ye'll murn,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">With the salt tears falling o'er."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's ta'en a harp into her hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Went to their chamber door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And aye she harped and aye she murn'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With the salt tears falling o'er.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out and spak the brisk young bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In bride-bed where she lay,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I think I hear my sister Annie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I wish weel it may;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a Scotish lord staw her awa,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And an ill death may he die."<!-- Page 203 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Wha was your father, my girl," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Or wha was your mother?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or had you ever a sister dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or had you ever a brother?"<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"King Henry was my father dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Queen Esther was my mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prince Henry was my brother dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Fanny Flower my sister."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If King Henry was your father dear,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Queen Esther was your mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If Prince Henry was your brother dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then surely I'm your sister.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come to your bed, my sister dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It ne'er was wrang'd for me,<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bot an ae kiss of his merry mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As we cam owre the sea."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Awa, awa, ye forenoon bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Awa, awa frae me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wudna hear my Annie greet,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For a' the gold I got wi' thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There were five ships of gay red gold<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cam owre the seas with me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It's twa o' them will tak me hame,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 204 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span><span class="i2">And three I'll leave wi' thee.<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Seven ships o' white monie<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Came owre the seas wi' me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Five o' them I'll leave wi' thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And twa will take me hame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my mother will make my portion up,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">When I return again."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 205 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHILD_WATERS" id="CHILD_WATERS"></a>CHILD WATERS.</h3> + + +<p>First published by Percy from his folio MS., <i>Reliques</i>, +iii. 94. Several traditionary versions have since +been printed, of which we give <i><a href="#BURD_ELLEN">Burd Ellen</a></i> from Jamieson's, +and in the Appendix, <i><a href="#LADY_MARGARET_See_p_205">Lady Margaret</a></i> from +Kinloch's collection. Jamieson also furnishes a fragment, +and Buchan, (<i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i>, +ii. 30,) a complete copy of another version of <i>Burd +Ellen</i>, and Chambers (<i>Scottish Ballads</i>, 193,) makes +up an edition from all the copies, which we mention +here because he has taken some lines from a manuscript +supplied by Mr. Kinloch.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Childe Waters in his stable stoode<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And stroakt his milke-white steede;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To him a fayre yonge ladye came<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As ever ware womans weede.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sayes, "Christ you save, good Childe Waters,"<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<!-- Page 206 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span><span class="i2">Sayes, "Christ you save and see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My girdle of gold that was too longe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is now too short for mee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And all is with one childe of yours<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I feele sturre at my side;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">My gowne of greene it is too straighte;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before, it was too wide."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If the child <a name="LNanchor_IV_4a_13" id="LNanchor_IV_4a_13"></a><a href="#Linenote_IV_4a_13" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">be mine</a>, faire Ellen," he sayd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Be mine, as you tell mee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then take you Cheshire and Lancashire both,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Take them your owne to bee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If the childe be mine, faire Ellen," he sayd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Be mine, as you doe sweare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then take you Cheshire and Lancashire both,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And make that child your heyre."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shee sayes, "I had rather have one kisse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Childe Waters, of thy mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire both,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That lye by north and southe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And I had rather have one twinkling,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Childe Waters, of thine ee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire both,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To take them mine owne to bee."<!-- Page 207 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"To morrowe, Ellen, I must forth ryde<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Farr into the north countree;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fayrest lady that I can finde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ellen, must goe with mee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_IV_4a_33" id="LNanchor_IV_4a_33"></a><a href="#Linenote_IV_4a_33" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">"Thoughe I am not that ladye fayre,</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><a href="#Linenote_IV_4a_33" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Yet let me go with thee:</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ever I pray you, Childe Waters,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your foot-page let me bee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If you will my foot-page bee, Ellen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As you doe tell to mee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then you must cut your gowne of greene<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An inch above your knee:<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Soe must you doe your yellowe lockes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An inch above your ee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You must tell no man what is my name;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My foot-page then you shall bee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shee, all the long daye Childe Waters rode,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ran barefoote by his syde,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet was he never soe courteous a knighte,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To say, "Ellen, will you ryde?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shee, all the long daye Childe Waters rode,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ran barefoote thorow the broome,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yett was hee never soe courteous a knighte,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To say, "put on your shoone."<!-- Page 208 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ride softlye," shee sayd, "O Childe Waters:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Why doe you ryde so fast?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The childe, which is no mans but thine,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">My bodye itt will brast."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hee sayth, "seest thou yond water, Ellen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That flows from banke to brimme?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I trust to God, O Childe Waters,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You never will see me swimme."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But when shee came to the water side,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She sayled to the chinne:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Now the Lord of heaven be my speede,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For I must learne to swimme."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The salt waters bare up her clothes,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Our Ladye bare up her chinne;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Childe Waters was a woe man, good Lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To see faire Ellen swimme!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when shee over the water was,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shee then came to his knee:<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hee sayd, "Come hither, thou fayre Ellen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Loe yonder what I see.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of redd gold shines the yate:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of twenty foure faire ladyes there,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The fairest is my mate.<!-- Page 209 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of redd golde shines the towre:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There are twenty four fayre ladyes there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The fayrest is my paramoure."<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I see the hall now, Childe Waters,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of redd golde shines the yate:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God give you good now of yourselfe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And of your worldlye mate.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I see the hall now, Childe Waters,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of redd golde shines the towre:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God give you good now of yourselfe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And of your paramoure."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There twenty four fayre ladyes were<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A playing at the ball,<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Ellen, the fayrest ladye there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Must bring his steed to the stall.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There twenty four fayre ladyes were<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A playinge at the chesse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Ellen, the fayrest ladye there,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Must bring his horse to gresse.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And then bespake Childe Waters sister,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">These were the wordes sayd shee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"You have the prettyest page, brother,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 210 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span><span class="i2">That ever I did see;<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But that his bellye it is soe bigge,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His girdle stands soe hye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ever, I pray you, Childe Waters,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let him in my chamber lye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It is not fit for a little foot-page,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That has run throughe mosse and myre,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lye in the chamber of any ladye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That weares soe riche attyre.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It is more meete for a little foot-page,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That has run throughe mosse and myre,<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To take his supper upon his knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lye by the kitchen fyre."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now when they had supped every one,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To bedd they tooke theyr waye:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sayd, "Come hither, my little foot-page,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And hearken what I saye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Goe thee downe into yonder towne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lowe into the streete;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fayrest ladye that thou canst finde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hyre in mine armes to sleepe;<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And take her up in thine armes twaine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For filing of her feete."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ellen is gone into the towne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lowe into the streete;<!-- Page 211 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fayrest ladye that shee colde finde,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">She hyred in his armes to sleepe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tooke her up in her armes twayne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For filing of her feete.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I praye you nowe, good Childe Waters,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let mee lye at your feete;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For there is noe place about this house,<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where I may saye a sleepe."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_IV_4a_133" id="LNanchor_IV_4a_133"></a><a href="#Linenote_IV_4a_133" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">He gave her leave, and faire Ellen</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><a href="#Linenote_IV_4a_133" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Down at his beds feet laye;</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">This done the nighte drove on apace,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And when it was neare the daye,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hee sayd, "Rise up, my little foot-page,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Give my steede corne and haye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And give him nowe the good black oats,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To carry mee better awaye."<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up then rose the faire Ellen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And gave his steede corne and hay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soe shee did the good black oates,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To carry him the better awaye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She leaned her back to the manger side,<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And grievouslye did groane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She leaned her back to the manger side,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And there shee made her moane.<!-- Page 212 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And that beheard his mother deare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><a name="LNanchor_IV_4a_150" id="LNanchor_IV_4a_150"></a><a href="#Linenote_IV_4a_150" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Shee heard her woefull woe:</a><span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shee sayd, "Rise up, thou Childe Waters,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And into thy stable goe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For in thy stable is a ghost,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That grievouslye doth grone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or else some woman laboures with childe,<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shee is so woe-begone."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up then rose Childe Waters soone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And did on his shirte of silke;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then he put on his other clothes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On his bodye as white as milke.<span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when he came to the stable dore,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Full still there hee did stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That hee mighte heare his fayre Ellen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Howe shee made her monand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She sayd, "Lullabye, mine own dear childe,<span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lullabye, deare childe, deare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wolde thy father were a kinge,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy mothere layd on a biere."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Peace nowe," hee sayd, "good, faire Ellen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bee of good cheere, I praye;<span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the bridale and the churchinge bothe<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shall bee upon one daye.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_IV_4a_13" id="Linenote_IV_4a_13"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IV_4a_13" title="link to line number">13</a>, MS. be inne.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_IV_4a_33" id="Linenote_IV_4a_33"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IV_4a_33" title="link to line number">33</a>, 34, supplied by Percy.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_IV_4a_133" id="Linenote_IV_4a_133"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IV_4a_133" title="link to line number">133</a>, 134, supplied by Percy.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_IV_4a_150" id="Linenote_IV_4a_150"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IV_4a_150" title="link to line number">150</a>, her woefull woe, Percy!</p> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 213 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="BURD_ELLEN" id="BURD_ELLEN"></a>BURD ELLEN.</h3> + + +<p>Printed from Mrs. Brown's recitation, in Jamieson's +<i>Popular Ballads</i>, i. 117. We have restored the +text by omitting some interpolations of the editor, and +three concluding stanzas by the same, which, contrary +to all authority, gave a tragic turn to the story.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord John stood in his stable door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Said he was boun to ride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Burd Ellen stood in her bower door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Said she'd rin by his side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's pitten on his cork-heel'd shoon,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fast awa rade he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's clad hersel in page array,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And after him ran she:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Till they came till a wan water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And folks do call it Clyde;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then he's lookit o'er his left shoulder,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says, "Lady, will ye ride?"<!-- Page 214 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O I learnt it wi' my bower woman,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I learnt it for my weal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whanever I cam to wan water,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To swim like ony eel."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the firsten stap the lady stappit,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The water came till her knee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ochon, alas!" said the lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"This water's o'er deep for me."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The nexten stap the lady stappit,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The water came till her middle;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sighin says that gay lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I've wat my gouden girdle."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The thirden stap the lady stappit,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The water came till her pap;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the bairn that was in her twa sides<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For cauld began to quake.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lie still, lie still, my ain dear babe;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye work your mother wae:<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your father rides on high horse back,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cares little for us twae."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O about the midst o' Clyde's water<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There was a yeard-fast stane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He lightly turn'd his horse about,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And took her on him behin.<!-- Page 215 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O tell me this now, good lord John,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a word ye dinna lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How far it is to your lodgin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whare we this night maun be?"<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O see na ye yon castell, Ellen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That shines sae fair to see?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is a lady in it, Ellen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will sinder you and me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There is a lady in that castell<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will sinder you and I"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Betide me weal, betide me wae,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I sall gang there and try."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My dogs shall eat the good white bread,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ye shall eat the bran;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then will ye sigh, and say, alas!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ever I was a man!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O I shall eat the good white bread,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And your dogs shall eat the bran;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I hope to live to bless the day,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ever ye was a man."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O my horse shall eat the good white meal,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ye sall eat the corn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then will ye curse the heavy hour<br /></span> +<!-- Page 216 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span><span class="i2">That ever your love was born."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_IV_4b_61" id="LNanchor_IV_4b_61"></a><a href="#Linenote_IV_4b_61" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">["O I shall eat the good white meal,</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><a href="#Linenote_IV_4b_61" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">And your horse shall eat the corn;]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I ay sall bless the happy hour<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ever my love was born."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O four and twenty gay ladies<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Welcom'd lord John to the ha',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a fairer lady than them a'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Led his horse to the stable sta.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O four and twenty gay ladies<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Welcom'd lord John to the green;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a fairer lady than them a'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At the manger stood alane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When bells were rung, and mass was sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a' men boun to meat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Burd Ellen was at the bye-table<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Amang the pages set.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O eat and drink, my bonny boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The white bread and the beer."—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The never a bit can I eat or drink,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My heart's sae fu' o' fear."<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O eat and drink, my bonny boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The white bread and the wine."<!-- Page 217 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span>—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O how sall I eat or drink, master,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' heart sae fu' o' pine?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But out and spak lord John's mother,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a wise woman was she:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Whare met ye wi' that bonny boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That looks sae sad on thee?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sometimes his cheek is rosy red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sometimes deadly wan;<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's liker a woman big wi' bairn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than a young lord's serving man."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O it makes me laugh, my mother dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sic words to hear frae thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is a squire's ae dearest son,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That for love has followed me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Rise up, rise up, my bonny boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gi'e my horse corn and hay."—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O that I will, my master dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As quickly as I may."<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's ta'en the hay under her arm,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The corn intill her hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she's gane to the great stable,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As fast as e'er she can.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O room ye round, my bonny brown steeds,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<!-- Page 218 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span><span class="i2">O room ye near the wa';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the pain that strikes me through my sides<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Full soon will gar me fa'."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She lean'd her back against the wa';<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Strong travel came her on;<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And e'en amang the great horse feet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Burd Ellen brought forth her son.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Johnis mither intill her bower<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was sitting all alane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, in the silence o' the nicht,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">She heard Burd Ellen's mane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Won up, won up, my son," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Gae see how a' does fare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I think I hear a woman's groans,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a bairnie greetin' sair."<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O hastily he gat him up,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Staid neither for hose nor shoon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he's doen him to the stable door<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' the clear light o' the moon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He strack the door hard wi' his foot,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae has he wi' his knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And iron locks and iron bars<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Into the floor flung he:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Be not afraid, Burd Ellen," he says,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 219 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span><span class="i2">"There's nane come in but me.<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Tak up, tak up my bonny young son;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gar wash him wi' the milk;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tak up, tak up my fair lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gar row her in the silk.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And cheer thee up, Burd Ellen," he says,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Look nae mair sad nor wae;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For your marriage and your kirkin too<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sall baith be in ae day."<br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_IV_4b_61" id="Linenote_IV_4b_61"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IV_4b_61" title="link to line number">61, 62</a>, according to Jamieson, the same as vv. 54, 55, but +here formed on their model, from 57, 58.</p> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 220 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="ERLINTON" id="ERLINTON"></a>ERLINTON.</h3> + + +<p>First published in the <i>Minstrelsy of the Scottish +Border</i>, ii. 351,—"from the collation of two copies +obtained from recitation."</p> + +<p><i>Erlinton</i> and <i><a href="#THE_CHILD_OF_ELLE">The Child of Elle</a></i> are corrupt varieties +of <i>The Douglas Tragedy</i>. The passage referred to in +vol. ii. p. 114, is remarked on in a note at the end of +the ballad.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Erlinton had a fair daughter;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wat he weird her in a great sin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For he has built a bigly bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' a' to put that lady in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An' he has warn'd her sisters six,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' sae has he her brethren se'en,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Outher to watch her a' the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or else to seek her morn an e'en.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She hadna been i' that bigly bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Na not a night, but barely ane,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till there was Willie, her ain true love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Chapp'd at the door, cryin', "Peace within!"<!-- Page 221 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O whae is this at my bower door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That chaps sae late, or kens the gin?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O it is Willie, your ain true love,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I pray you rise an' let me in!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But in my bower there is a wake,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' at the wake there is a wane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I'll come to the green-wood the morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whar blooms the brier, by mornin' dawn."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then she's gane to her bed again,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where she has layen till the cock crew thrice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then she said to her sisters a',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Maidens, 'tis time for us to rise."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She pat on her back her silken gown,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' on her breast a siller pin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' she's ta'en a sister in ilka hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' to the green-wood she is gane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She hadna walk'd in the green-wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Na not a mile but barely ane,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till there was Willie, her ain true love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wha frae her sisters has her ta'en.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He took her sisters by the hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He kiss'd them baith, an' sent them hame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' he's ta'en his true love him behind,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And through the green-wood they are gane.<!-- Page 222 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They hadna ridden in the bonnie green-wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Na not a mile but barely ane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When there came fifteen o' the boldest knights,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ever bare flesh, blood, or bane.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The foremost was an aged knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He wore the grey hair on his chin:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says, "Yield to me thy lady bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' thou shalt walk the woods within."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For me to yield my lady bright<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To such an aged knight as thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">People wad think I war gane mad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or a' the courage flown frae me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But up then spake the second knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wat he spake right boustouslie:<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Yield me thy life, or thy lady bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or here the tane of us shall die."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My lady is my <a name="LNanchor_IV_5a_53" id="LNanchor_IV_5a_53"></a><a href="#Linenote_IV_5a_53" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">warld's meed</a>;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My life I winna yield to nane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if ye be men of your manhead,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye'll only fight me ane by ane."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He lighted aff his milk-white steed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' gae his lady him by the head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_IV_5a_59" id="LNanchor_IV_5a_59"></a><a href="#Linenote_IV_5a_59" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Say'n, "See ye dinna change your cheer,</a><br /></span> +<!-- Page 223 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span><span class="i2"><a href="#Linenote_IV_5a_59" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Untill ye see my body bleed."</a><span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He set his back unto an aik,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He set his feet against a stane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' he has fought these fifteen men,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' kill'd them a' but barely ane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For he has left that aged knight,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' a' to carry the tidings hame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When he gaed to his lady fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wat he kiss'd her tenderlie:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Thou art mine ain love, I have thee bought;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Now we shall walk the green-wood free."<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_IV_5a_53" id="Linenote_IV_5a_53"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IV_5a_53" title="link to line number">53</a>, Should we not read <i>warld's mate</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Note</span> to v. <a name="Linenote_IV_5a_59" id="Linenote_IV_5a_59"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IV_5a_59" title="link to line number">59, 60</a>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Say'n, 'See ye dinna change your cheer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Untill ye see my body bleed.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>As has been remarked (vol. ii. p. 114), <i>Erlinton</i> retains an +important, and even fundamental trait of the older forms of +the story, which is not found in any other of the English versions +of the <i>Douglas Tragedy</i>. It was a northern superstition +that to call a man by name while he was engaged in fight +was a fatal omen, and hence a phrase, "to name-to-death." +To avert this danger, Ribolt, in nearly all the Scandinavian +ballads, entreats Guldborg not to <i>pronounce his name</i>, even if +she sees him bleeding or struck down. In her agony at seeing +the last of her brothers about to be slain, Guldborg forgets +her lover's injunction, calls on him by name to stop, and +thus brings about the catastrophe. Ignorant reciters have +either dropped the corresponding passage in the English ballad, +or (as in this case) have so corrupted it, that its significance +is only to be made out by comparison with the ancient +copies.</p> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 224 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_CHILD_OF_ELLE" id="THE_CHILD_OF_ELLE"></a>THE CHILD OF ELLE.</h3> + + +<p>"From a fragment in the Editor's folio MS., which, +though extremely defective and mutilated, appeared +to have so much merit, that it excited a strong desire +to attempt the completion of the story. The reader +will easily discover the supplemental stanzas by their +inferiority, and at the same time be inclined to pardon +it, when he considers how difficult it must be to imitate +the affecting simplicity and artless beauties of the +original." <span class="smcap">Percy</span>, <i>Reliques</i>, i. 113. (See vol. ii. p. 114.)</p> + +<p>It must be acknowledged that this truly modest +apology was not altogether uncalled for. So extensive +are Percy's alterations and additions, that the +reader will have no slight difficulty in detecting the +few traces that are left of the genuine composition. +Nevertheless, Sir Walter Scott avers that the corrections +are "in the true style of Gothic embellishment!"</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On yonder hill a castle standes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With walles and towres bedight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yonder lives the Child of Elle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A younge and comely knighte.<!-- Page 225 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Child of Elle to his garden wente,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And stood at his garden pale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whan, lo! he beheld fair Emmelines page<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come trippinge downe the dale.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Child of Elle he hyed him thence,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ywis he stoode not stille,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soone he mette faire Emmelines page<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come climbing up the hille.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nowe Christe thee save, thou little foot-page,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Now Christe thee save and see!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh telle me how does thy ladye gaye,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And what may thy tydinges bee?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My lady shee is all woe-begone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the teares they falle from her eyne;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And aye she laments the deadlye feude<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Betweene her house and thine."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And here shee sends thee a silken scarfe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bedewde with many a teare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And biddes thee sometimes thinke on her,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who loved thee so deare.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And here shee sends thee a ring of golde,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The last boone thou mayst have,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And biddes thee weare it for her sake,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whan she is layde in grave.<!-- Page 226 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For, ah! her gentle heart is broke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And in grave soone must shee bee,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sith her father hath chose her a new, new love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And forbidde her to think of thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Her father hath brought her a carlish knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sir John of the north countraye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And within three dayes shee must him wedde,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or he vowes he will her slaye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And greet thy ladye from mee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And telle her that I, her owne true love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will dye, or sette her free.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And let thy fair ladye know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This night will I bee at her bowre-windowe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Betide me weale or woe."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The boye he tripped, the boye he ranne,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He neither stint ne stayd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Untill he came to fair Emmelines bowre,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whan kneeling downe he sayd:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O ladye, Ive been with thy own true love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he greets thee well by mee;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">This night will he bee at thy bowre-windowe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dye or sette thee free."<!-- Page 227 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nowe daye was gone, and night was come,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And all were fast asleepe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All save the ladye Emmeline,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who sate in her bowre to weepe:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And soone shee heard her true loves voice<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lowe whispering at the walle:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Awake, awake, my deare ladye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tis I, thy true love, call.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Awake, awake, my ladye deare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come, mount this faire palfraye:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This ladder of ropes will lette thee downe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ile carrye thee hence awaye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nowe nay, nowe nay, thou gentle knight,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nowe nay, this may not bee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For aye sould I tint my maiden fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If alone I should wend with thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O ladye, thou with a knight so true<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mayst safelye wend alone;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To my ladye mother I will thee bringe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where marriage shall make us one."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My father he is a baron bolde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of lynage proude and hye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And what would he saye if his daughter<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Awaye with a knight should fly?<!-- Page 228 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ah! well I wot, he never would rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor his meate should doe him no goode,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till he had slayne thee, Child of Elle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And seene thy deare hearts bloode."<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a little space him fro,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I would not care for thy cruel father,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor the worst that he could doe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And once without this walle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I would not care for thy cruel father,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor the worst that might befalle."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Faire Emmeline sighed, faire Emmeline wept,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And aye her heart was woe:<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">At length he seizde her lilly-white hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And downe the ladder he drewe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And thrice he claspde her to his breste,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And kist her tenderlie:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The teares that fell from her fair eyes,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ranne like the fountayne free.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hee mounted himselfe on his steede so talle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And her on a faire palfraye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And slung his bugle about his necke,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 229 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span><span class="i2">And roundlye they rode awaye.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All this beheard her owne damselle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In her bed whereas shee ley;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quoth shee, "My lord shall knowe of this,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Soe I shall have golde and fee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Awake, awake, thou baron bolde!<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Awake, my noble dame!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your daughter is fledde with the Childe of Elle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To doe the deede of shame."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The baron he woke, the baron he rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And called his merrye men all:<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And come thou forth, Sir John the knighte;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The ladye is carried to thrall."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair Emmeline scant had ridden a mile,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A mile forth of the towne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When she was aware of her fathers men<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come galloping over the downe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And foremost came the carlish knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sir John of the north countraye:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nowe stop, nowe stop, thou false traitoure,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor carry that ladye awaye.<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For she is come of hye lynage,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And was of a ladye borne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ill it beseems thee, a false churles sonne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To carrye her hence to scorne."<!-- Page 230 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nowe loud thou lyest, Sir John the knight,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nowe thou doest lye of mee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A knight mee gott, and a ladye me bore,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Soe never did none by thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But light nowe downe, my ladye faire,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Light downe, and hold my steed,<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">While I and this discourteous knighte<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Doe trye this arduous deede.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But light now downe, my deare ladye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Light downe, and hold my horse;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While I and this discourteous knight<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Doe trye our valours force."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair Emmeline sighde, fair Emmeline wept,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And aye her heart was woe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While twixt her love and the carlish knight<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Past many a baleful blowe.<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Child of Elle hee fought soe well,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As his weapon he wavde amaine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That soone he had slaine the carlish knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And layde him upon the plaine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And nowe the baron, and all his men<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Full fast approached nye:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! what may ladye Emmeline doe?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Twere now no boote to flye.<!-- Page 231 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her lover he put his horne to his mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And blew both loud and shrill,<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soone he saw his owne merry men<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come ryding over the hill.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nowe hold thy hand, thou bold baron,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I pray thee, hold thy hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor ruthless rend two gentle hearts,<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fast knit in true loves band.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thy daughter I have dearly lovde<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Full long and many a day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But with such love as holy kirke<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hath freelye sayd wee may.<span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O give consent shee may be mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And blesse a faithfull paire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My lands and livings are not small,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My house and lynage faire.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My mother she was an earles daughter,<span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a noble knyght my sire——"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The baron he frownde, and turnde away<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With mickle dole and ire.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair Emmeline sighde, faire Emmeline wept,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And did all tremblinge stand;<span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">At lengthe she sprange upon her knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And held his lifted hand.<!-- Page 232 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Pardon, my lorde and father deare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This faire yong knyght and mee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trust me, but for the carlish knyght,<span class="linenum">175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I never had fled from thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oft have you callde your Emmeline<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your darling and your joye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O let not then your harsh resolves<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your Emmeline destroye."<span class="linenum">180</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The baron he stroakt his dark-brown cheeke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And turnde his heade asyde,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wipe awaye the starting teare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He proudly strave to hyde.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In deepe revolving thought he stoode,<span class="linenum">185</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And musde a little space;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then raisde faire Emmeline from the grounde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With many a fond embrace.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Here take her, Child of Elle," he sayd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And gave her lillye hand;<span class="linenum">190</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Here take my deare and only child,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And with her half my land.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thy father once mine honour wrongde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In dayes of youthful pride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do thou the injurye repayre<span class="linenum">195</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">In fondnesse for thy bride.<!-- Page 233 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And as thou love her and hold her deare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Heaven prosper thee and thine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And nowe my blessing wend wi' thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My lovelye Emmeline."<span class="linenum">200</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 234 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="SIR_ALDINGAR" id="SIR_ALDINGAR"></a>SIR ALDINGAR.</h3> + + +<p>Of this very remarkable ballad two copies have +been printed in English, <i>Sir Aldingar</i>, from the Percy +MS. (<i>Reliques</i>, ii. 53), "with conjectural emendations +and the insertion of some additional stanzas," and <i><a href="#SIR_HUGH_LE_BLOND">Sir +Hugh Le Blond</a></i>, by Scott, from recitation. The corresponding +Danish ballad, <i>Ravengaard og Memering</i>, +first published by Grundtvig, is extant in not less than +five copies, the oldest derived from a MS. of the middle +of the 16th century, the others from recent recitations. +With these Grundtvig has given an Icelandic +version, from a MS. of the 17th century, another in +the dialect of the Faroe Islands, and a third half Danish, +half Faroish, both as still sung by the people. +The ballad was also preserved, not long ago, in Norway.—<i>Danmarks +Gamle Folkeviser</i>, i. 177-213, ii. +640-645.</p> + +<p>All these ballads contain a story one and the same +in the essential features—a story which occurs repeatedly +in connection with historical personages, +in Germany, France, Italy, and Spain, as well as +England,—and which has also furnished the theme +for various modern romances, poems, and tragedies.<!-- Page 235 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> +The connection of the different forms of the legend has +been investigated by the Danish editor at considerable +length and with signal ability; and we shall endeavor +to present the principal results of his wide research in +the few pages which our narrow limits allow us to give +to such questions.</p> + +<p>The names of the characters in the Danish ballads +are Henry (called Duke of Brunswick and of Schleswig +in the oldest), Gunild (of Spires, called also Gunder), +Ravengaard, and Memering. To these correspond, +in the English story, King Henry, Queen +Eleanor, Sir Aldingar (the resemblance of this name +to Ravengaard will be noted), and a boy, to whom no +name is assigned. Eleanor, it hardly need be remarked, +is a queen's name somewhat freely used in ballads (see +vol. vi. 209, and vol. vii. 291), and it is possible that the +consort of Henry II. is here intended, though her reputation +both in history and in song hardly favors that +supposition.</p> + +<p>The occurrence of Spires in the old Danish ballad +would naturally induce us to look for the origin of the +story in the annals of the German emperors of the +Franconian line, who held their court at Spires, and +are most of them buried in the cathedral at that place. +A very promising clue is immediately found in the history +of King (afterwards Emperor) Henry III., son of +the Emperor Conrad II. Salicus. This Henry was +married, in the year 1036, to Gunhild, daughter of +Canute the Great. An English chronicler, William +of Malmesbury, writing in the first half of the 12th +century, tells us that after this princess had lived many +years in honorable wedlock, she was accused of adultery. +Being forced to clear herself by wager of battle,<!-- Page 236 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> +she found in all her retinue no one who was willing to +risk a combat with her accuser, a man of gigantic stature, +save a little boy whom she had brought with her +from England. The issue of the duel established her +innocence,—her diminutive champion succeeding by +some miracle in ham-stringing his huge adversary; +but it is alleged that the queen refused to return to +her husband, and passed the rest of a long life in a +monastery.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></p> + +<p>A Norman-French <i>Life of Edward the Confessor</i>, +written about 1250, repeats this story, and adds the +champion's name.<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A daughter had the king,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who was not so beautiful as clever.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gunnild her name; and he gave her<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To him who with love had asked for her,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The noble Emperor Henry.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She remained not long with him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because by felons, who had no reason<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To blame her calumniously,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She was charged with shame:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the Emperor was she accused.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">According to the custom of the empire,<!-- Page 237 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">It behoved her to clear herself from shame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By battle; and she takes much trouble<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To find one to be her champion:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But finds no one, for very huge was<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The accuser,—as a giant.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a dwarf, whom she had brought up,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Undertook the fight with him.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the first blow he hamstrung him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the second he cut off his feet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mimecan was the dwarf's name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who was so good a champion,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the history, which is written,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says of him. The lady was freed from blame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the lady the emperor<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more will have as her lord."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Finally, John Brompton, writing two hundred +years after William of Malmesbury, repeats his account, +and gives the names of <i>both</i> the combatants,—"a +youth called Mimicon, and a man of gigantic +size, by name Roddyngar" (Raadengard = the Danish +Ravengaard).</p> + +<p>The story of William of Malmesbury and the rest, +though it is sufficiently in accordance with the Danish +and English ballads, is in direct opposition to the +testimony of contemporary German chroniclers, who +represent Queen Gunhild as living on the best terms +with her husband, and instead of growing old in God's +service in a nunnery, as dying of the plague in Italy +two years after her marriage, and hardly twenty years +of age. It is manifest, therefore, that the English +chroniclers derived their accounts from ballads current +at their day,<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> which, as they were not founded on any<!-- Page 238 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> +real passages in the life of Gunhild, require us to look +a little further for their origin.</p> + +<p>The empress Gunhild was called by the German +chroniclers of her day by various names—as Cunihild, +Chunihild, Chunelind, and <i>Cunigund</i>, which last +name she is said to have assumed at her coronation. +This change of Gunhild's name accounts for the unfounded +scandals which were in circulation about her +in her native land, scarcely a hundred years after her +death. Cunigund, wife of Henry III., was in fact confounded +with a contemporary German queen and +empress, <i>St. Cunigund</i>, widow of the Emperor Henry +II. This mistake, which has been made more than +once, will be acknowledged to be a very natural one +(especially for foreigners), when it is considered that +both queens not only bore the same name, but were +married each to an emperor of the same name (Henry), +both of whom again were sons of Conrads.<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a></p> + +<p>Referring now to the history of St. Cunigund, we +read in the papal bull of Innocent III., by which she +was canonized in the year 1200, that "she consecrated<!-- Page 239 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> +her virginity to the Lord, and preserved it intact,—so +that when at one time by the instigation of the enemy +of mankind a suspicion had been raised against +her, she, to prove her innocence, walked with bare +feet over burning ploughshares, and came off unscathed." +Again, we read in a slightly more recent +German chronicle, as follows: "The Devil, who hates +all the righteous, and is ever seeking to bring them to +shame, stirred up the Emperor against his wife, persuading +him, through a certain duke, that in contempt +of her husband she had committed adultery with another +man. The empress offered to undergo an +ordeal, and a great many bishops came to see it carried out. +Whereupon seven glowing ploughshares were +laid on the ground, over which the empress was forced +to walk in bare feet, to attest her innocence, ... +which, when the king saw, he prostrated himself before +her with all his nobles." Adalbert's Life of St. +Henry (which is, at the latest, of the 12th century), +agreeing in all essentials with these accounts, adds an +important particular, explaining how it was that the +Devil brought the queen's honor into question, namely, +that he was seen by many to go in and out of her +private chamber, in the likeness of a handsome young +man.—St. Cunigund is said to have undergone the +ordeal at Bamberg, in the year 1017. The story, +however, is without foundation, not being mentioned +by any contemporary writers, but first appearing in +various legends, towards the year 1200.</p> + +<p>But St. Cunigund is by no means the first German +empress of whom the story under consideration is told. +A writer contemporary with her, who has nothing to +say about the miracle just recounted, relates some<!-- Page 240 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span>thing +very similar of <i>another</i> empress, one hundred +and thirty years earlier, namely, of Richardis, wife of +Charles III. The tale runs that this Charles, in the +year 887, accused his queen of unlawful connection +with a Bishop. Her Majesty offered to subject herself +to the Judgment of God, either by duel or by the +ordeal of burning ploughshares. It is not said that +either test was applied, but only that the queen retired +into a cloister which she had herself founded. This is +the contemporary account. A century and a half later +we are told that an ordeal by <i>water</i> was actually undergone, +which again is changed by later writers into +an ordeal by <i>fire</i>,—the empress passing through the +flames in a waxed garment, without receiving the least +harm; in memory of which, a day was kept, five centuries +after, in honor of St. Richardis, in the monastery +to which she withdrew.</p> + +<p>Several other similar cases might be mentioned, but +it will suffice to refer to only one more, more ancient +than any of those already cited. Paulus Diaconus +(who wrote about the year 800) relates that a Lombard +queen, Gundiberg (of the 7th century), having +been charged with infidelity, one of her servants asked +permission of the king to fight in the lists for his mistress's +honor, and conquered his antagonist in the +presence of all the people. The same story is told, +more in detail, by Aimoin, a somewhat more recent +writer, of another Gundeberg, likewise of the 7th century. +A Lombard nobleman makes insolent proposals +to his queen, and meets with a most emphatic repulse. +Upon this he goes to the king with a story that the +queen has been three days conspiring to poison her +husband, and put her accomplice in his place. The<!-- Page 241 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> +tale is believed, and the queen shut up in prison. +The Frankish king, a relation of the injured woman, +remonstrates on the injustice of condemnation without +trial, and the king consents to submit the question to +a duel. The champion of innocence is victorious, and +the real criminal is condignly punished. This form of +the legend, the oldest of all that have been cited, +approaches very near to the Danish and English ballads.</p> + +<p>Our conclusion would therefore be, with Grundtvig, +that the ballads of <i>Sir Aldingar</i>, <i>Ravengaard and +Memering</i>, and the rest, are of common derivation +with the legends of St. Cunigund, Gundeberg, &c., +and that all these are offshoots of a story which, "beginning +far back in the infancy of the Gothic race and +their poetry, is continually turning up, now here and +now there, without having a proper home in any definite +time or assignable place." Many circumstances +corroborative of this view might be added, but we +must content ourselves with obviating a possible objection. +An invariable feature in the story is the <i>judicium +Dei</i> by which the innocence of the accused wife is +established, but there is much difference in the various +forms of the legend as to the <i>kind</i> of ordeal employed, +and some minds may here find difficulty. A close +observation, however, will show such a connection +between the different accounts as to prove an original +unity. Even the earlier legends of St. Cunigund do +not agree on this point; one makes her to have walked +over burning ploughshares, another to have carried red-hot +iron in her hands. The Icelandic copy of the +ballad has both of these: the queen "carries iron and +walks on steel"; and there is also a "judgment by<!-- Page 242 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> +iron bands." All these three tests are found in the +Faroe ballad, which brings in Memering besides, and +thus furnishes a transition to the Danish, which says +nothing about the trial by fire, and has only the duel. +Finally the English ballad completes the circle with +the pile at which the queen was to be burned, in case +she should not be able to prove her innocence by the +duel.</p> + +<p>At a time uncertain, but earlier than the 14th century, +this legend was transplanted into the literature +of Southern Europe. It is found in various Spanish +chronicles, the earliest the <i>Historia de Cataluña</i> of +Bernardo Desclot, written about 1300; also in a Provençal +and a French chronicle of the 17th century. +In most of these the part of the queen's champion is +assigned to the well-known Raimund Berengar, Count +of Barcelona, who, in the year 1113, took Majorca +from the Moors. The popularity of the story is further +proved by the Spanish romance, <i>El Conde de +Barcelona y la Emperatriz de Alemania</i>; the French +romance <i>L'Histoire de Palanus, Comte de Lyon</i>; and +a novel of Bandello, the 44th of the Second Part. +This last was re-written and published in 1713, with +slight changes, as an original tale, by M<sup>me</sup> de Fontaines +(<i>Histoire de la Comtesse de Savoie</i>), whence Voltaire +borrowed materials for two of his tragedies, <i>Tancrède</i> +and <i>Artémire</i>.</p> + +<p>By the circuitous route of Spain the story returns +to England in a romance of the 15th century, <i>The +Erle of Tolous</i> (Ritson, <i>Metr. Rom.</i> iii. p. 93). +Nearly related with this romance is the German story-book +(derived from the French) on which Hans Sachs +founded his tragedy, <i>Der Ritter Golmi mit der Herzo<!-- Page 243 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span>gin +auss Britanien</i>. Another German popular story-book, +<i>Hirlanda</i>, exhibits a close resemblance to our +ballad of <i>Sir Aldingar</i>.<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a></p> + +<p>"This old fabulous legend is given from the editor's +folio MS., with conjectural emendations, and the insertion +of some additional stanzas to supply and complete +the story. It has been suggested to the editor that the +author of the poem seems to have had in his eye the +story of Gunhilda, who is sometimes called Eleanor (?), +and was married to the emperor (here called king) +Henry."—<span class="smcap">Percy.</span></p> + + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> "Although there are seven centuries between William +and our times," says Grundtvig, "and the North Sea +between Jutland and the land of his birth, it almost seems +as if he had taken his account from the very ballad which +is at this day sung on the little island of Fuur in the Lym +Fiord."</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> We have substituted this paragraph instead of a later +chronicle cited by Grundtvig. The translation is that of +the English editor: <i>Lives of Edward the Confessor</i> (p. 39, +193), recently published by authority of the British government.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> William of Malmesbury refers to ballads which were +made on the splendid nuptial procession, by which Gunhild +was conducted to the ship that was to bear her to her husband, +as still sung about the streets in his time.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> An argument in confirmation of what is here said is +afforded by a German annalist of the 14th century, who +states, under the date 1038, that the empress Cunigund died +the 3d of March, and was buried at Spires. Now St. Cunigund +actually did die the 3d of March, and that day is dedicated +to her in the Roman calendar, but the year was 1040, +and she was buried at Bamberg, while Gunhild died in 1038 +(July 18), and was buried in the monastery of Limburg, +near Spires.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> In § v. of his Introduction to <i>Ravengaard og Memering</i>, +Grundtvig seeks to show that this ballad, though independent +in its origin, was at one time, like many others, woven +into the great South-Gothic epic of Diderik of Bern, and +then, having divided the legend into two portions,—the Accusation +and its Cause, the Vindication and its Mode,—he, in +§ vi. vii. traces out with wonderful learning and penetration +the extensive ramifications of the first part, taken by itself, +through the romance of the Middle Ages. The whole essay +is beyond praise.</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Our king he kept a false stewarde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sir Aldingar they him call;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A falser steward than he was one,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Servde not in bower nor hall.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He wolde have layne by our comelye queene,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her deere worshippe to betraye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our queene she was a good woman,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And evermore said him naye.<!-- Page 244 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sir Aldingar was wrothe in his mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With her hee was never content,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till traiterous meanes he colde devyse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In a fyer to have her brent.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There came a lazar to the kings gate,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A lazar both blinde and lame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He tooke the lazar upon his backe,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Him on the queenes bed has layne.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lye still, lazar, wheras thou lyest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Looke thou goe not hence away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ile make thee a whole man and a sound<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In two howers of the day."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then went him forth Sir Aldingar,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And hyed him to our king:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"If I might have grace, as I have space,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sad tydings I could bring."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Say on, say on, Sir Aldingar,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Saye on the soothe to mee."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Our queene hath chosen a new, new love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And shee will have none of thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If shee had chosen a right good knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The lesse had beene her shame;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But she hath chose her a lazar man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A lazar both blinde and lame."<!-- Page 245 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If this be true, thou Aldingar,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The tyding thou tellest to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then will I make thee a rich, rich knight,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rich both of golde and fee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But if it be false, Sir Aldingar,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As God nowe grant it bee!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy body, I sweare by the holye rood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shall hang on the gallows tree."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He brought our king to the queenes chamber,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And opend to him the dore:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"A lodlye love," King Harry says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"For our queene," dame Elinore!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If thou were a man, as thou art none,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Here on my sword thoust dye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a payre of new gallowes shall be built,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And there shalt thou hang on hye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Forth then hyed our king, iwysse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And an angry man was hee,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soone he found queene Elinore,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That bride so bright of blee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now God you save, our queene, madame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Christ you save and see!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here you have chosen a newe, newe love,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And you will have none of mee.<!-- Page 246 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If you had chosen a right good knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The lesse had been your shame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But you have chose you a lazar man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A lazar both blinde and lame.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Therfore a fyer there shall be built,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And brent all shalt thou bee."—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Now out, alacke!" said our comly queene,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Sir Aldingar's false to mee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now out, alacke!" sayd our comlye queene,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"My heart with griefe will brast:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I had thought swevens had never been true,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I have proved them true at last.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I dreamt in my sweven on Thursday eve,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In my bed wheras I laye,<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I dreamt a grype and a grimlie beast<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Had carryed my crowne awaye;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My gorgett and my kirtle of golde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And all my faire head-geere;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he wold worrye me with his tush,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And to his nest y-beare:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Saving there came a little gray hawke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A merlin him they call,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which untill the grounde did strike the grype,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 247 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span><span class="i2">That dead he downe did fall.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Giffe I were a man, as now I am none,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A battell wold I prove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To fight with that traitor Aldingar:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Att him I cast my glove.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But seeing Ime able noe battell to make,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">My liege, grant me a knight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To fight with that traitor, Sir Aldingar,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To maintaine me in my right."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now forty dayes I will give thee<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To seeke thee a knight therin:<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thou find not a knight in forty dayes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy bodye it must brenn."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then shee sent east, and shee sent west,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By north and south bedeene;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But never a champion colde she find,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wolde fight with that knight soe keene.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now twenty dayes were spent and gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Noe helpe there might be had;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Many a teare shed our comelye queene,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And aye her hart was sad.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then came one of the queenes damselles,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And knelt upon her knee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cheare up, cheare up, my gracious dame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I trust yet helpe may be.<!-- Page 248 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And here I will make mine avowe,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And with the same me binde,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That never will I return to thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till I some helpe may finde."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then forth she rode on a faire palfraye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Oer hill and dale about;<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But never a champion colde she finde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wolde fighte with that knight so stout.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And nowe the daye drewe on apace,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When our good queene must dye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All woe-begone was that fair damselle,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">When she found no helpe was nye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All woe-begone was that faire damselle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the salt teares fell from her eye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When lo! as she rode by a rivers side,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She met with a tinye boye.<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A tinye boy she mette, God wot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All clad in mantle of golde;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He seemed noe more in mans likenesse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then a childe of four yeere olde.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Why grieve you, damselle faire?" he sayd,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"And what doth cause you moane?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The damsell scant wolde deigne a looke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But fast she pricked on.<!-- Page 249 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yet turne againe, thou faire damselle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And greete thy queene from mee;<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When bale is at hyest, boote is nyest;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nowe helpe enoughe may bee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Bid her remember what she dreamt,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In her bedd wheras shee laye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How when the grype and the grimly beast<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wolde have carried her crowne awaye,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Even then there came the little gray hawke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And saved her from his clawes:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then bidd the queene be merry at hart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For heaven will fende her cause."<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Back then rode that fair damselle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And her hart it lept for glee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when she told her gracious dame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A gladd woman then was shee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But when the appointed day was come,<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">No helpe appeared nye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then woeful woeful was her hart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the teares stood in her eye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And nowe a fyer was built of wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a stake was made of tree;<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now queene Elinor forth was led,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A sorrowful sight to see.<!-- Page 250 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Three times the herault he waved his hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And three times spake on hye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Giff any good knight will fende this dame,<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come forth, or shee must dye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No knight stood forth, no knight there came,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">No helpe appeared nye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now the fyer was lighted up,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Queene Elinor she must dye.<span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now the fyer was lighted up,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As hot as hot might bee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When riding upon a little white steed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The tinye boye they see.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Away with that stake, away with those brands,<span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And loose our comelye queene:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am come to fight with Sir Aldingar,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And prove him a traitor keene."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Forth then stood Sir Aldingar;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But when he saw the chylde,<span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He laughed, and scoffed, and turned his backe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And weened he had been beguylde.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now turne, now turne thee, Aldingar,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And eyther fighte or flee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I trust that I shall avenge the wronge,<span class="linenum">175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thoughe I am so small to see."<!-- Page 251 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The boye pulld forth a well good sworde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So gilt it dazzled the ee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The first stroke stricken at Aldingar<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Smote off his leggs by the knee.<span class="linenum">180</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Stand up, stand up, thou false traitor,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fighte upon thy feete,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, and thou thrive as thou beginst,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of height wee shall be meete."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A priest, a priest," sayes Aldingar,<span class="linenum">185</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"While I am a man alive;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"A priest, a priest," sayes Aldingar,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Me for to houzle and shrive.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I wolde have laine by our comlie queene,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But shee wolde never consent;<span class="linenum">190</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then I thought to betraye her unto our kinge,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In a fyer to have her brent.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There came a lazar to the kings gates,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A lazar both blind and lame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I tooke the lazar upon my backe,<span class="linenum">195</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And on her bedd had him layne.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then ranne I to our comlye king,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">These tidings sore to tell:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ever alacke!" sayes Aldingar,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 252 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span><span class="i2">"Falsing never doth well.<span class="linenum">200</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Forgive, forgive me, queene, madame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The short time I must live:"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nowe Christ forgive thee, Aldingar,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As freely I forgive."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Here take thy queene, our King Harrye,<span class="linenum">205</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And love her as thy life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For never had a king in Christentye<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A truer and fairer wife."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">King Harrye ran to claspe his queene,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And loosed her full sone;<span class="linenum">210</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then turnd to look for the tinye boye:—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The boye was vanisht and gone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But first he had touchd the lazar man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And stroakt him with his hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lazar under the gallowes tree<span class="linenum">215</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">All whole and sounde did stand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The lazar under the gallowes tree<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was comelye, straight, and tall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">King Henrye made him his head stewarde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To wayte withinn his hall.<span class="linenum">220</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 253 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="SIR_HUGH_LE_BLOND" id="SIR_HUGH_LE_BLOND"></a>SIR HUGH LE BLOND.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border</i>, iii. 51.</p> + + +<p>"The tradition, upon which the ballad is founded, is +universally current in the Mearns; and the Editor is +informed, that, till very lately, the sword, with which +Sir Hugh le Blond was believed to have defended the +life and honour of the Queen, was carefully preserved +by his descendants, the Viscounts of Arbuthnot. That +Sir Hugh of Arbuthnot lived in the thirteenth century, +is proved by his having, 1282, bestowed the patronage +of the church of Garvoch upon the Monks of Aberbrothwick, +for the safety of his soul.—<i>Register of Aberbrothwick, +quoted by Crawford in Peerage.</i></p> + +<p>"I was favoured with the following copy of <i>Sir Hugh +le Blond</i>, by K. Williamson Burnet, Esq. of Monboddo, +who wrote it down from the recitation of an old woman,<!-- Page 254 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> +long in the service of the Arbuthnot family. Of course, +the diction is very much humbled, and it has, in all +probability, undergone many corruptions; but its antiquity +is indubitable, and the story, though indifferently +told, is in itself interesting. It is believed that there +have been many more verses." <span class="smcap">Scott.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The birds sang sweet as ony bell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The world had not their make,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Queen she's gone to her chamber,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With Rodingham to talk.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I love you well, my Queen, my dame,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Bove land and rents so clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for the love of you, my Queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Would thole pain most severe."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If well you love me, Rodingham,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'm sure so do I thee:<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I love you well as any man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Save the King's fair bodye."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I love you well, my Queen, my dame;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Tis truth that I do tell:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for to lye a night with you,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The salt seas I would sail."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Away, away, O Rodingham!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You are both stark and stoor;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would you defile the King's own bed,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 255 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span><span class="i2">And make his Queen a whore?<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"To-morrow you'd be taken sure,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And like a traitor slain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'd be burned at a stake,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Although I be the Queen."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He then stepp'd out at her room door,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">All in an angry mood:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until he met a leper-man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Just by the hard way-side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He intoxicate the leper-man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With liquors very sweet:<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gave him more and more to drink,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Until he fell asleep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He took him in his armis twa,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And carried him along,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till he came to the Queen's own bed,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And there he laid him down.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He then stepp'd out of the Queen's bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As swift as any roe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Till he came to the very place<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where the King himself did go.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The King said unto Rodingham,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"What news have you to me?"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He said, "Your Queen's a false woman,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I did plainly see."<!-- Page 256 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He hasten'd to the Queen's chamber,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">So costly and so fine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until he came to the Queen's own bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where the leper-man was lain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He looked on the leper-man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who lay on his Queen's bed;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He lifted up the snaw-white sheets,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And thus he to him said:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Plooky, plooky, are your cheeks,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And plooky is your chin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And plooky are your armis twa,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">My bonny Queen's layne in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Since she has lain into your arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She shall not lye in mine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since she has kiss'd your ugsome mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She never shall kiss mine."—<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In anger he went to the Queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who fell upon her knee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He said, "You false, unchaste woman,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What's this you've done to me?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Queen then turn'd herself about,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The tear blinded her ee—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"There's not a knight in a' your court<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dare give that name to me."<!-- Page 257 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He said, "'Tis true that I do say;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For I a proof did make:<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">You shall be taken from my bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And burned at a stake.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Perhaps I'll take my word again,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And may repent the same,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If that you'll get a Christian man<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To fight that Rodingham."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Alas! alas!" then cried our Queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Alas, and woe to me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's not a man in all Scotland<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will fight with him for me."—<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She breathed unto her messengers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sent them south, east, and west;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They could find none to fight with him,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor enter the contest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She breathed on her messengers,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">She sent them to the north;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there they found Sir Hugh le Blond,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To fight him he came forth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When unto him they did unfold<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The circumstance all right,<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He bade them go and tell the Queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That for her he would fight.<!-- Page 258 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The day came on that was to do<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That dreadful tragedy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir Hugh le Blond was not come up<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To fight for our ladye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Put on the fire," the monster said:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"It is twelve on the bell."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"'Tis scarcely ten, now," said the King;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I heard the clock mysell."—<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Before the hour the Queen is brought,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The burning to proceed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a black velvet chair she's set,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A token for the dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She saw the flames ascending high,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The tears blinded her ee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Where is the worthy knight," she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Who is to fight for me?"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up and spak the King himsell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"My dearest, have no doubt,<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For yonder comes the man himsell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As bold as e'er set out."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They then advanced to fight the duel<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With swords of temper'd steel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till down the blood of Rodingham<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Came running to his heel.<!-- Page 259 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sir Hugh took out a lusty sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Twas of the metal clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he has pierced Rodingham<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till's heart-blood did appear.<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Confess your treachery, now," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"This day before you die!"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I do confess my treachery,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I shall no longer lye:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I like to wicked Haman am,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">This day I shall be slain."—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Queen was brought to her chamber,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A good woman again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Queen then said unto the King,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Arbattle's near the sea;<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give it unto the northern knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That this day fought for me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then said the King, "Come here, Sir Knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And drink a glass of wine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, if <a name="LNanchor_IV_6b_135" id="LNanchor_IV_6b_135"></a><a href="#Linenote_IV_6b_135" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Arbattle's</a> not enough,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To it we'll Fordoun join."<br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_IV_6b_135" id="Linenote_IV_6b_135"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IV_6b_135" title="link to line number">135</a>. Arbattle is the ancient name of the barony of Arbuthnot. +Fordun has long been the patrimony of the same +family. S.</p> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 260 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_KNIGHT_AND_SHEPHERDS_DAUGHTER" id="THE_KNIGHT_AND_SHEPHERDS_DAUGHTER"></a>THE KNIGHT, AND SHEPHERD'S DAUGHTER.</h3> + + +<p>"This ballad (given from an old black-letter copy, +with some corrections) was popular in the time of +Queen Elizabeth, being usually printed with her picture +before it, as Hearne informs us in his preface to +Gul. Neubrig, <i>Hist. Oxon</i>, 1719, 8vo. vol. i. p. lxx. +It is quoted in Fletcher's comedy of the <i>Pilgrim</i>, act +4, sc. 2." <span class="smcap">Percy's</span> <i>Reliques</i>, iii. 114.</p> + +<p>The Scottish ballad corresponding to Percy's has +been printed by Kinloch, p. 25. Besides this, however, +there are three other Scottish versions, superior +to the English in every respect, and much longer. +They are <i>Earl Richard</i>, Motherwell, p. 377; (also in +Buchan's <i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i>, ii. 81;) a +ballad with the same title in Kinloch's collection, p. 15; +and <i>Earl Lithgow</i>, Buchan, ii. 91. In all these, the +futile attempts of the knight to escape marrying the +lady, and the devices by which she aggravates his +reluctance to enter into the match, are managed with +no little humour. We give <a href="#EARL_RICHARD_B">Motherwell's edition</a> a place +next to Percy's, and refer the reader for Kinloch's <a href="#EARL_RICHARD_B_See_p_260">to +the Appendix</a>.<!-- Page 261 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There was a shepherds daughter<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Came tripping on the waye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there by chance a knighte shee mett,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which caused her to staye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Good morrowe to you, beauteous maide,"<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">These words pronounced hee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O I shall dye this daye," he sayd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"If Ive not my wille of thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The Lord forbid," the maide replyd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That you shold waxe so wode!"<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_IV_7a_11" id="LNanchor_IV_7a_11"></a><a href="#Linenote_IV_7a_11" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">But for all that shee could do or saye,</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><a href="#Linenote_IV_7a_11" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">He wold not be withstood.</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sith you have had your wille of mee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And put me to open shame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, if you are a courteous knighte,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tell me what is your name?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Some do call mee Jacke, sweet heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And some do call mee Jille;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when I come to the kings faire courte,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 262 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span><span class="i2">They calle me Wilfulle Wille."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He sett his foot into the stirrup,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And awaye then he did ride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She tuckt her girdle about her middle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ranne close by his side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But when she came to the brode water,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">She sett her brest and swamme;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when she was got out againe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She tooke to her heels and ranne.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He never was the courteous knighte,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To saye, "Faire maide, will ye ride?"<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she was ever too loving a maide<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To saye, "Sir knighte, abide."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When she came to the kings faire courte,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She knocked at the ring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So readye was the king himself<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To let this faire maide in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now Christ you save, my gracious liege,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Now Christ you save and see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You have a knighte within your courte<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This daye hath robbed mee."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What hath he robbed thee of, sweet heart?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of purple or of pall?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or hath he took thy gaye gold ring<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From off thy finger small?"<!-- Page 263 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He hath not robbed mee, my liege,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of purple nor of pall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he hath gotten my maidenhead,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which grieves mee worst of all."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now if he be a batchelor,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His bodye Ile give to thee;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if he be a married man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">High hanged he shall bee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He called downe his merrye men all,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By one, by two, by three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir William used to bee the first,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But nowe the last came hee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He brought her downe full fortye pounde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tyed up withinne a glove:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Faire maid, Ile give the same to thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Go, seeke thee another love."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O Ile have none of your gold," she sayde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Nor Ile have none of your fee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But your faire bodye I must have,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The king hath granted mee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sir William ranne and fetchd her then<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Five hundred pound in golde,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saying, "Faire maide, take this to thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy fault will never be tolde."<!-- Page 264 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Tis not the gold that shall mee tempt,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">These words then answered shee,<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But your own bodye I must have,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The king hath granted mee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Would I had drunke the water cleare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When I did drinke the wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rather than any shepherds brat<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shold bee a ladye of mine!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Would I had drank the puddle foule,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When I did drink the ale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rather than ever a shepherds brat<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shold tell me such a tale!"<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A shepherds brat even as I was,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You mote have let mee bee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I never had come to the kings faire courte,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To crave any love of thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He sett her on a milk-white steede,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And himself upon a graye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He hung a bugle about his necke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And soe they rode awaye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But when they came unto the place,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where marriage-rites were done,<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">She proved herself a dukes daughter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he but a squires sonne.<!-- Page 265 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now marrye me, or not, sir knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your pleasure shall be free:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you make me ladye of one good towne,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ile make you lord of three."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ah! cursed bee the gold," he sayd;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"If thou hadst not been trewe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I shold have forsaken my sweet love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And have changed her for a newe."<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now their hearts being linked fast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They joyned hand in hande:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus he had both purse, and person too,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And all at his commande.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_IV_7a_11" id="Linenote_IV_7a_11"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IV_7a_11" title="link to line number">11</a>, 12, Percy's.</p> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 266 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="EARL_RICHARD_B" id="EARL_RICHARD_B"></a>EARL RICHARD (B).</h3> + +<p class="center">Motherwell's <i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. 377. From recitation.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Earl Richard once on a day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And all his valiant men so wight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He did him down to Barnisdale,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where all the land is fair and light.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He was aware of a damosel,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wot fast on she did her bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With towers of gold upon her head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As fair a woman as could be found.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He said, "Busk on you, fair ladye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The white flowers and the red;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I would give my bonnie ship,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To get your maidenhead."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I wish your bonnie ship rent and rive,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And drown you in the sea;<!-- Page 267 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For all this would not mend the miss<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ye would do to me."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The miss is not so great, ladye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Soon mended it might be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I have four-and-twenty mills in Scotland,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Stands on the water Tay;<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">You'll have them, and as much flour<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As they'll grind in a day."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I wish your bonnie ship rent and rive,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And drown you in the sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For all that would not mend the miss<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ye would do for me."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The miss is not so great, lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Soon mended it will be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I have four-and-twenty milk-white cows,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All calved in a day;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">You'll have them, and as much hained grass<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As they all on can gae."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I wish your bonnie ship rent and rive,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And drown ye in the sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For all that would not mend the miss<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ye would do to me."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The miss is not so great, ladye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Soon mended it might be.<!-- Page 268 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I have four-and-twenty milk-white steeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All foaled in one year;<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">You'll have them, and as much red gold<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As all their backs can bear."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She turned her right and round about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she swore by the mold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I would not be your love," said she,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"For that church full of gold."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He turned him right and round about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he swore by the mass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says,—"Lady, ye my love shall be,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And gold ye shall have less."<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She turned her right and round about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she swore by the moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I would not be your love," says she,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"For all the gold in Rome."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He turned him right and round about,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he swore by the moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says,—"Lady, ye my love shall be,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And gold ye shall have none."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He caught her by the milk-white hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And by the grass-green sleeve;<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there has taken his will of her,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wholly without her leave.<!-- Page 269 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The lady frowned and sadly blushed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And oh! but she thought shame:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says,—"If you are a knight at all,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">You surely will tell me your name."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"In some places they call me Jack,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In other some they call me John;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when into the Queen's Court,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Oh then Lithcock it is my name."<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lithcock! Lithcock!" the lady said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And oft she spelt it over again;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Lithcock! it's Latin," the lady said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Richard's the English of that name."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_IV_7b_75" id="LNanchor_IV_7b_75"></a><a href="#Linenote_IV_7b_75" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">The Knight he rode, the lady ran,</a><span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A live long summer's day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till they came to the wan water<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That all men do call Tay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He set his horse head to the water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Just thro' it for to ride;<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the lady was as ready as him<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The waters for to wade.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For he had never been as kind-hearted<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As to bid the lady ride;<!-- Page 270 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she had never been so low-hearted<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As for to bid him bide.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But deep into the wan water<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There stands a great big stone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He turned his wight horse head about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Said, "Lady fair, will ye loup on?"<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's taken the wand was in her hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And struck it on the foam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And before he got the middle stream,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The lady was on dry land.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"By help of God and our Lady,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">My help lyes not in your hand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I learned it from my mother dear,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Few is there that has learned better—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I came to a deep water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I can swim thro' like ony otter.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I learned it from my mother dear,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I find I learned it for my weel;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I came to a deep water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I can swim thro' like ony eel."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Turn back, turn back, you lady fair,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">You know not what I see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is a lady in that castle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That will burn you and me."<!-- Page 271 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Betide me weal, betide me wae,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That lady will I see."<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She took a ring from her finger,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And gave't the porter for his fee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says, "Tak you that, my good porter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bid the Queen speak to me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when she came before the Queen,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">There she fell low down on her knee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says, "There is a knight into your court,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This day has robbed me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O has he robbed you of your gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or has he robbed you of your fee?"<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He has not robbed me of my gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He has not robbed me of my fee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He has robbed me of my maidenhead,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The fairest flower of my bodie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There is no knight in all my court,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That thus has robbed thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But you'll have the truth of his right hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or else for your sake he'll die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho' it were Earl Richard, my own brother;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And oh forbid that it be!"<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, sighing, said the lady fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I wot the samen man is he."<!-- Page 272 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Queen called on her merry men,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Even fifty men and three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earl Richard used to be the first man,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But now the hindmost was he.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's taken out one hundred pounds,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And told it in his glove:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says, "Tak you that, my lady fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And seek another love."<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oh no, oh no," the lady cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That's what shall never be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll have the truth of your right hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Queen it gave to me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I wish I had drunk of your water, sister,<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">When I did drink your wine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That for a carle's fair daughter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It does gar me dree all this pine."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"May be I am a carle's daughter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And may be never nane;<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When ye met me in the green wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Why did you not let me alane?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Will you wear the short clothes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or will you wear the side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or will you walk to your wedding,<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or will you till it ride?"<!-- Page 273 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I will not wear the short clothes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But I will wear the side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will not walk to my wedding,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But I to it will ride."<span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When he was set upon the horse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The lady him behind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then cauld and eerie were the words<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The twa had them between.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She said, "Good e'en, ye nettles tall,<span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Just there where ye grow at the dike;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If the auld carline my mother was here,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae weel's she would your pates pike.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"How she would stap you in her poke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wot at that she wadna fail;<span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And boil ye in her auld brass pan,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And of ye mak right gude kail.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And she would meal you with millering<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That she gathers at the mill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mak you thick as any daigh;<span class="linenum">175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And when the pan was brimful,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Would mess you up in scuttle dishes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Syne bid us sup till we were fou;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lay down her head upon a poke,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 274 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span><span class="i2">Then sleep and snore like any sow."<span class="linenum">180</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Away! away! you bad woman,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For all your vile words grieveth me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When ye heed so little for yourself,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'm sure ye'll heed far less for me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I wish I had drunk your water, sister,<span class="linenum">185</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">When that I did drink of your wine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since for a carle's fair daughter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It aye gars me dree all this pine."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"May be I am a carle's daughter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And may be never nane;<span class="linenum">190</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When ye met me in the good green wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Why did you not let me alane?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gude e'en, gude e'en, ye heather berries,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As ye're growing on yon hill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If the auld carle and his bags were here,<span class="linenum">195</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wot he would get meat his fill.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Late, late at night I knit our pokes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With even four-and-twenty knots;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the morn at breakfast time,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll carry the keys of an earl's locks.<span class="linenum">200</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Late, late at night I knit our pokes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With even four-and-twenty strings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if you look to my white fingers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They have as many gay gold rings."<!-- Page 275 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Away! away! ye ill woman,<span class="linenum">205</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sore your vile words grieveth me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When you heed so little for yourself,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'm sure ye'll heed far less for me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But if you are a carle's daughter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I take you to be,<span class="linenum">210</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">How did you get the gay clothing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In green wood ye had on thee?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My mother she's a poor woman,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She nursed earl's children three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I got them from a foster sister,<span class="linenum">215</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For to beguile such sparks as thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But if you be a carle's daughter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I believe you be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How did ye learn the good Latin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In green wood ye spoke to me?"<span class="linenum">220</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My mother she's a mean woman,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She nursed earl's children three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I learned it from their chapelain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To beguile such sparks as ye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When mass was sung, and bells were rung,<span class="linenum">225</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And all men boune for bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then Earl Richard and this ladye<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In ane bed they were laid.<!-- Page 276 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He turned his face to the stock,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she hers to the stane;<span class="linenum">230</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cauld and dreary was the luve<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That was thir twa between.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Great was the mirth in the kitchen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Likewise intill the ha';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in his bed lay Earl Richard,<span class="linenum">235</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wiping the tears awa'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He wept till he fell fast asleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then slept till licht was come;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then he did hear the gentlemen<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That talked in the room:<span class="linenum">240</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Said,—"Saw ye ever a fitter match,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Betwixt the ane and ither;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The King o' Scotland's fair dochter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the Queen of England's brither?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And is she the King o' Scotland's fair dochter?<span class="linenum">245</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">This day, oh, weel is me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For seven times has my steed been saddled,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To come to court with thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with this witty lady fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How happy must I be!"<span class="linenum">250</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_IV_7b_75" id="Linenote_IV_7b_75"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IV_7b_75" title="link to line number">75</a> et seq. This passage has something in common with +<i><a href="#CHILD_WATERS">Child Waters</a></i> and <i><a href="#BURD_ELLEN">Burd Ellen</a></i>.</p> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 277 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_GAY_GOSS-HAWK" id="THE_GAY_GOSS-HAWK"></a>THE GAY GOSS-HAWK.</h3> + +<p class="center">From <i>Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border</i>, iii. 151.</p> + + +<p>"This Ballad is published, partly from one under +this title, in Mrs. Brown's collection, and partly from +a MS. of some antiquity, <i>penes</i> Edit. The stanzas +appearing to possess most merit have been selected +from each copy."—<span class="smcap">Scott.</span></p> + +<p>Annexed is <a href="#THE_JOLLY_GOSHAWK">another version from Motherwell's collection</a>. +A third, longer than either, is furnished by +Buchan, <i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i>, ii. 245, <i>The +Scottish Squire</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O waly, waly, my gay goss-hawk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gin your feathering be sheen!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And waly, waly, my master dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gin ye look pale and lean!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O have ye tint, at tournament,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your sword, or yet your spear?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or mourn ye for the southern lass,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whom ye may not win near?"<!-- Page 278 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I have not tint, at tournament,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My sword nor yet my spear;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sair I mourn for my true love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' mony a bitter tear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But weel's me on ye, my gay goss-hawk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye can baith speak and flee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye sall carry a letter to my love,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bring an answer back to me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But how sall I your true love find,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or how suld I her know?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I bear a tongue ne'er wi' her spake,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An eye that ne'er her saw."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O weel sall ye my true love ken,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae sune as ye her see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, of a' the flowers of fair England,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The fairest flower is she.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The red, that's on my true love's cheek,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><a name="LNanchor_IV_8a_26" id="LNanchor_IV_8a_26"></a><a href="#Linenote_IV_8a_26" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Is like blood-drops on the snaw;</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The white, that is on her breast bare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like the down o' the white sea-maw<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And even at my love's bouer-door<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There grows a flowering birk;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ye maun sit and sing thereon<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As she gangs to the kirk.<!-- Page 279 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And four-and-twenty fair ladyes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will to the mass repair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But weel may ye my ladye ken,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The fairest ladye there."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord William has written a love-letter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Put it under his pinion gray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he is awa to southern land<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As fast as wings can gae.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And even at the ladye's bour<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There grew a flowering birk;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he sat down and sung thereon<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As she gaed to the kirk.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And weel he kent that ladye fair<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Amang her maidens free;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the flower that springs in May morning<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was not sae sweet as she.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He lighted at the ladye's yate,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sat him on a pin;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sang fu' sweet the notes o' love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till a' was cosh within.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And first he sang a low, low note,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And syne he sang a clear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And aye the o'erword o' the sang<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was—"Your love can no win here."<!-- Page 280 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Feast on, feast on, my maidens a',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The wine flows you amang,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While I gang to my shot-window,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And hear yon bonny bird's sang.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sing on, sing on, my bonny bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The sang ye sung yestreen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For weel I ken, by your sweet singing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye are frae my true love sen."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O first he sang a merry sang,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And syne he sang a grave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And syne he pick'd his feathers gray,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To her the letter gave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Have there a letter from Lord William;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He says he's sent ye three;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He canna wait your love langer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But for your sake he'll die."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gae bid him bake his bridal bread,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And brew his bridal ale;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I shall meet him at Mary's kirk,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lang, lang ere it be stale."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The lady's gane to her chamber,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a moanfu' woman was she;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As gin she had ta'en a sudden brash,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 281 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span><span class="i2">And were about to die.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A boon, a boon, my father deir,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A boon I beg of thee!"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ask not that paughty Scottish lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For him you ne'er shall see:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But, for your honest asking else,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Weel granted it shall be."—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Then, gin I die in Southern land,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In Scotland gar bury me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And the first kirk that ye come to,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye's gar the mass be sung;<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the next kirk that ye come to,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye's gar the bells be rung.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And when you come to St. Mary's kirk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye's tarry there till night."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so her father pledg'd his word,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And so his promise plight.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She has ta'en her to her bigly bour<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As fast as she could fare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she has drank a sleepy draught,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That she had mix'd wi' care.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And pale, pale, grew her rosy cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That was sae bright of blee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she seem'd to be as surely dead<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As any one could be.<!-- Page 282 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then spake her cruel step-minnie,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Tak ye the burning lead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And drap a drap on her bosome,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To try if she be dead."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They took a drap o' boiling lead,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They drapp'd it on her breast;<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Alas! alas!" her father cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"She's dead without the priest."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She neither chatter'd with her teeth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor shiver'd with her chin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Alas! alas!" her father cried,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"There is nae breath within."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up arose her seven brethren,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And hew'd to her a bier;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They hew'd it frae the solid aik,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Laid it o'er wi' silver clear.<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up and gat her seven sisters,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sewed to her a kell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And every steek that they put in<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sewed to a siller bell.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The first Scots kirk that they cam to,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">They garr'd the bells be rung;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The next Scots kirk that they cam to,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They garr'd the mass be sung.<!-- Page 283 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But when they cam to St. Mary's kirk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There stude spearmen all on a raw;<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And up and started Lord William,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The chieftane amang them a.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Set down, set down the bier," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Let me look her upon:"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But as soon as Lord William touch'd her hand,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her colour began to come.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She brightened like the lily flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till her pale colour was gone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With rosy cheek, and ruby lip,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She smiled her love upon.<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A morsel of your bread, my lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And one glass of your wine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I hae fasted these three lang days,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All for your sake and mine.—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gae hame, gae hame, my seven bauld brothers,<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gae hame and blaw your horn!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I trow ye wad hae gi'en me the skaith,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But I've gi'en you the scorn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Commend me to my grey father,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That wished my saul gude rest;<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But wae be to my cruel step-dame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Garr'd burn me on the breast."<!-- Page 284 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ah! woe to you, you light woman!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An ill death may ye die!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For we left father and sisters at hame<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Breaking their hearts for thee."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="linenote"> +<p>v. <a name="Linenote_IV_8a_26" id="Linenote_IV_8a_26"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IV_8a_26" title="link to line number">26</a>. This simile resembles a passage in a MS. translation +of an Irish Fairy tale, called <i>The Adventures of Faravla, +Princess of Scotland, and Carral O'Daly, Son of Donogho More +O'Daly, Chief Bard of Ireland</i>. "Faravla, as she entered her +bower, cast her looks upon the earth, which was tinged with +the blood of a bird which a raven had newly killed: 'Like +that snow,' said Faravla, 'was the complexion of my beloved, +his cheeks like the sanguine traces thereon; whilst the raven +recalls to my memory the colour of his beautiful locks.'" +There is also some resemblance in the conduct of the story, +betwixt the ballad and the tale just quoted. The Princess +Faravla, being desperately in love with Carral O'Daly, despatches +in search of him a faithful confidante, who, by her +magical art, transforms herself into a hawk, and, perching +upon the windows of the bard, conveys to him information +of the distress of the Princess of Scotland. <span class="smcap">Scott.</span></p> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 285 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_JOLLY_GOSHAWK" id="THE_JOLLY_GOSHAWK"></a>THE JOLLY GOSHAWK.</h3> + +<p class="center">Motherwell's <i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. 353.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O well is me, my jolly goshawk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ye can speak and flee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ye can carry a love-letter<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To my true love from me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O how can I carry a letter to her,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">When her I do not know?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I bear the lips to her never spak,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the eyes that her never saw."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The thing of my love's face that's white<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is that of dove or maw;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The thing of my love's face that's red<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is like blood shed on snaw.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And when you come to the castel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Light on the bush of ash;<!-- Page 286 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sit you there and sing our loves,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As she comes from the mass.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And when she gaes into the house,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sit ye upon the whin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sit you there and sing our loves,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As she goes out and in."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when he flew to that castel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He lighted on the ash;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there he sat and sung their loves,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As she came from the mass.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when she went into the house,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He flew unto the whin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there he sat and sung their loves,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As she went out and in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come hitherward, my maidens all,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sip red wine anon,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till I go to my west window,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And hear a birdie's moan."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's gane unto her west window,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fainly aye it drew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soon into her white silk lap<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The bird the letter threw.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye're bidden send your love a send,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For he has sent you twa;<!-- Page 287 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tell him where he can see you,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or he cannot live ava."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I send him the rings from my white fingers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The garlands off my hair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I send him the heart that's in my breast:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What would my love have mair?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at the fourth kirk in fair Scotland,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye'll bid him meet me there."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She hied her to her father dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As fast as gang could she:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"An asking, an asking, my father dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An asking ye grant me,—<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, if I die in fair England,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In Scotland gar bury me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"At the first kirk of fair Scotland,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You cause the bells be rung;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the second kirk of fair Scotland,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">You cause the mass be sung;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"At the third kirk of fair Scotland,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You deal gold for my sake;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at the fourth kirk of fair Scotland,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Oh there you'll bury me at!<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And now, my tender father dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This asking grant you me:"<!-- Page 288 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Your asking is but small," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Weel granted it shall be."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>[<i>The lady asks the same boon and receives a +similar answer, first from her mother, then from +her sister, and lastly from her seven brothers.</i>]</p></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then down as dead that lady drapp'd,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beside her mother's knee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then out it spak an auld witch wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By the fire-side sat she:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Says,—"Drap the het lead on her cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And drap it on her chin,<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And drap it on her rose red lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she will speak again:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For much a lady young will do,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To her true love to win."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They drapp'd the het lead on her cheek,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">So did they on her chin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They drapp'd it on her red rose lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But they breathed none again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her brothers they went to a room,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To make to her a bier;<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The boards of it were cedar wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the plates on it gold so clear.<!-- Page 289 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her sisters they went to a room,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To make to her a sark;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cloth of it was satin fine,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the steeking silken wark.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But well is me, my jolly goshawk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ye can speak and flee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come shew to me any love tokens<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That you have brought to me."<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"She sends you the rings from her fingers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The garlands from her hair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She sends you the heart within her breast:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And what would you have mair?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at the fourth kirk of fair Scotland,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">She bids you meet her there."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come hither, all my merry young men,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And drink the good red wine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For we must on to fair England,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To free my love from pine."<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At the first kirk of fair Scotland,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They gart the bells be rung;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the second kirk of fair Scotland,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They gart the mass be sung.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At the third kirk of fair Scotland,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">They dealt gold for her sake;<!-- Page 290 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the fourth kirk of fair Scotland<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her true love met them at.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Set down, set down the corpse," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Till I look on the dead;<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The last time that I saw her face,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She ruddy was and red;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now, alas, and woe is me!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She's wallowed like a weed."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He rent the sheet upon her face,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A little aboon her chin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With lily white cheek, and lemin' eyne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She lookt and laugh'd to him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Give me a chive of your bread, my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A bottle of your wine;<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I have fasted for your love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">These weary lang days nine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's not a steed in your stable,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But would have been dead ere syne.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gae hame, gae hame, my seven brothers,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gae hame and blaw the horn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For you can say in the South of England,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your sister gave you a scorn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I came not here to fair Scotland,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 291 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span><span class="i2">To lye amang the meal;<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I came here to fair Scotland,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To wear the silks so weel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I came not here to fair Scotland,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To lye amang the dead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I came here to fair Scotland,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To wear the gold so red."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 294 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="APPENDIX" id="APPENDIX"></a>APPENDIX.</h2> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 295 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="YOUNG_HUNTING_See_p_3" id="YOUNG_HUNTING_See_p_3"></a>YOUNG HUNTING. See p. <a href="#Page_3">3</a>.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Buchan's <i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i>, i. 118.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lady Maisry forth from her bower came,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And stood on her tower head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She thought she heard a bridle ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The sound did her heart guid.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She thought it was her first true love,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whom she loved ance in time;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But it was her new love, Hunting,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come frae the hunting o' the hyn'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gude morrow, gude morrow, Lady Maisry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">God make you safe and free!<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm come to take my last farewell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And pay my last visit to thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O stay, O stay then, young Hunting,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O stay with me this night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye shall ha'e cheer, an' charcoal clear,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And candles burning bright."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Have no more cheer, you lady fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An hour langer for me;<!-- Page 296 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have a lady in Garmouth town<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I love better than thee."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O if your love be changed, my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Since better canno' be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nevertheless, for auld lang syne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye'll stay this night wi' me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Silver, silver shall be your wage,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And gowd shall be your fee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And nine times nine into the year,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your weed shall changed be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Will ye gae to the cards or dice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or to a tavern fine?<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or will ye gae to a table forebye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And birl baith beer and wine?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I winna gang to the cards nor dice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor to a tavern fine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I will gang to a table forebye,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And birl baith beer and wine."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then she has drawn for young Hunting<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The beer but and the wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till she got him as deadly drunk<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As ony unhallowed swine.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then she's ta'en out a trusty brand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That hang below her gare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then she's wounded him, young Hunting,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A deep wound and a sair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out it speaks her comrade,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Being in the companie:<!-- Page 297 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Alas! this deed that ye ha'e done,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will ruin baith you and me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Heal well, heal well, you Lady Katharine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Heal well this deed on me;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The robes that were shapen for my bodie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They shall be sewed for thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Tho' I wou'd heal it never sae well,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And never sae well," said she,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"There is a God above us baith,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That can baith hear and see."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They booted him and spurred him,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As he'd been gaun to ride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hunting-horn about his neck,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A sharp sword by his side.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And they rode on, and farther on,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All the lang summer's tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until they came to wan water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where a' man ca's it Clyde.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_A_1_65" id="LNanchor_A_1_65"></a><a href="#Linenote_A_1_65" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">The</a> deepest pot in Clyde's water,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><a name="LNanchor_A_1_66" id="LNanchor_A_1_66"></a><a href="#Linenote_A_1_66" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">There</a> they flang him in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And put a turf on his breast bane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To had young Hunting down.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O out it speaks a little wee bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As she sat on the brier:<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Gae hame, gae hame, ye Lady Maisry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And pay your maiden's hire."<!-- Page 298 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O I will pay my maiden's hire,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And hire I'll gi'e to thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If ye'll conceal this fatal deed,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye's ha'e gowd for your fee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out it speaks a bonny bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That flew aboon their head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Keep well, keep well your green claithing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Frae ae drap o' his bluid."<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O I'll keep well my green claithing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Frae ae drap o' his bluid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Better than I'll do your flattering tongue,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That flutters in your head.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come down, come down, my bonny bird,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Light down upon my hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ae gowd feather that's in your wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wou'd gi'e a' my land."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"How shall I come down, how can I come down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How shall I come down to thee?<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The things ye said to young Hunting,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The same ye're saying to me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But it fell out on that same day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The king was going to ride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he call'd for him, young Hunting,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For to ride by his side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out it speaks the little young son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sat on the nurse's knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It fears me sair," said that young babe,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 299 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span><span class="i2">"He's in bower wi' yon ladie."<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then they ha'e call'd her, Lady Katharine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she sware by the thorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That she saw not him, young Hunting,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sin' yesterday at morn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then they ha'e call'd her, Lady Maisry,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she sware by the moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That she saw not him, young Hunting,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sin' yesterday at noon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He was playing him at the Clyde's water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Perhaps he has fa'en in:"<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The king he call'd his divers all,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To dive for his young son.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They div'd in thro' the wan burn-bank,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae did they out thro' the other:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"We'll dive nae mair," said these young men,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Suppose he were our brother."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out it spake a little bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That flew aboon their head:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Dive on, dive on, ye divers all,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For there he lies indeed.<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But ye'll leave aff your day diving,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ye'll dive in the night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pot where young Hunting lies in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The candles they'll burn bright.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There are twa ladies in yon bower,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And even in yon ha',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they ha'e kill'd him, young Hunting,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And casten him awa'.<!-- Page 300 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"They booted him and spurred him,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As he'd been gaun to ride;<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hunting horn tied round his neck,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A sharp sword by his side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The deepest pot o' Clyde's water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There they flang him in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laid a turf on his breast bane,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To had young Hunting down."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now they left aff their day diving,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And they dived on the night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pot that young Hunting lay in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The candles were burning bright.<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The king he call'd his hewers all,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To hew down wood and thorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For to put up a strong bale-fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">These ladies for to burn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And they ha'e ta'en her, Lady Katharine,<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And they ha'e pitten her in;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But it wadna light upon her cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor wou'd it on her chin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sang the points o' her yellow hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For healing the deadly sin.<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then they ha'e ta'en her, Lady Maisry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And they ha'e put her in:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">First it lighted on her cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And syne upon her chin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sang the points o' her yellow hair,<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she burnt like keckle-pin.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_A_1_65" id="Linenote_A_1_65"></a><a href="#LNanchor_A_1_65" title="link to line number">65</a>, And the.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_A_1_66" id="Linenote_A_1_66"></a><a href="#LNanchor_A_1_66" title="link to line number">66</a>, And there. See 133, 134.</p> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 301 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="YOUNG_WATERS_See_p_88" id="YOUNG_WATERS_See_p_88"></a>YOUNG WATERS.—See p. <a href="#Page_88">88</a>.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Buchan's <i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i>, i. p. 15.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It fell about the gude Yule time,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When caps and stoups gaed roun',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down it came him young Waters,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To welcome James, our king.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The great, the great, rade a' together,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The sma' came a' behin';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But wi' young Waters, that brave knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There came a gay gatherin'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The horse young Waters rade upon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It cost him hunders nine;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For he was siller shod before,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And gowd graith had behin'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At ilka tippit o' his horse mane<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There hang a siller bell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wind was loud, the steed was proud,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And they gae a sindry knell.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The king he lay ower's castle wa',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beheld baith dale and down;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he beheld him, young Waters,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 302 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span><span class="i2">Come riding to the town.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He turn'd him right and round about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And to the queen said he,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Who is the bravest man, my dame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ever your een did see?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I've seen lairds, and I've seen lords,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And knights o' high degree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a braver man than young Waters<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My e'en did never see."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He turn'd him right and roun' about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ane angry man was he;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O wae to you, my dame, the queen;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye might ha'e excepted me!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye are nae laird, ye are nae lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye are the king that wears the crown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's nae a lord in fair Scotland,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But unto you maun a' bow down."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O lady, for your love choicing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye shall win to your will;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The morn, or I eat or drink,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Young Waters I'll gar kill."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And nevertheless, the king cou'd say,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Ye might ha'e excepted me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea for yea," the king cou'd say,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Young Waters he shall die.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Likewise for your ill-wyled words<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye sall ha'e cause to mourn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin ye hadna been sae big wi' child,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye on a hill su'd burn."<!-- Page 303 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Young Waters came before the King,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fell low down on his knee;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Win up, win up, young Waters,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What's this I hear o' thee?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What ails the king at me," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"What ails the king at me?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It is tauld me the day, sir knight,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye've done me treasonie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Liars will lie on sell gude men,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae will they do on me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wudna wish to be the man<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That liars on wudna lie."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nevertheless, the king cou'd say,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"In prison strang gang ye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O yea for yea," the king cou'd say,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Young Waters, ye shall die."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Syne they ha'e ta'en him, young Waters,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Laid him in prison strang,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And left him there wi' fetters boun',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Making a heavy mane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Aft ha'e I ridden thro' Striveling town<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thro' heavy wind and weet;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ne'er rade I thro' Striveling town<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' fetters on my feet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Aft ha'e I ridden thro' Striveling town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thro' heavy wind and rain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ne'er rade I thro' Striveling town<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But thought to ridden't again."<!-- Page 304 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They brought him to the heading-hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His horse, bot and his saddle;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they brought to the heading-hill<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His young son in his cradle.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And they brought to the heading-hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His hounds intill a leish;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they brought till the heading-hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His gos-hawk in a jess.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">King James he then rade up the hill,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And mony a man him wi',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And called on his trusty page,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To come right speedilie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll do' ye to the Earl o' Mar,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For he sits on yon hill;<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bid him loose the brand frae his bodie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Young Waters for to kill."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O gude forbid," the Earl he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"The like su'd e'er fa' me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My bodie e'er su'd wear the brand<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That gars young Waters die."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then he has loos'd his trusty brand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And casten't in the sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says, "Never lat them get a brand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till it come back to me."<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The scaffold it prepared was,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he did mount it hie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a' spectators that were there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The saut tears blint their e'e.<!-- Page 305 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O had your tongues, my brethren dear,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And mourn nae mair for me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye're seeking grace frae a graceless face,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For there is nane to gie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll tak' a bit o' canvas claith,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And pit it ower my ee;<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Jack, my man, ye'll be at hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The hour that I su'd die.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Syne aff ye'll tak' my bluidy sark,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gie it fair Margaret Grahame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For she may curse the dowie dell<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That brought King James him hame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll bid her mak' her bed narrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And mak' it naeways wide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a brawer man than young Waters<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will ne'er streek by her side.<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Bid her do weel to my young son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And gie him nurses three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For gin he live to be a man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">King James will gar him die."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He call'd upon the headsman then,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A purse o' gowd him gae;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says, "Do your office, headsman, boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And mak' nae mair delay."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O head me soon, O head me clean,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And pit me out o' pine;<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For it is by the king's command;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gang head me till his min'.<!-- Page 306 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Tho' by him I'm condemn'd to die,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'm lieve to his ain kin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for the truth, I'll plainly tell,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I am his sister's son."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gin ye're my sister's son," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"It is unkent to me."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O mindna ye on your sister Bess,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That lives in the French countrie?"<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gin Bess then be your mither dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I trust well she be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gae hame, gae hame, young Waters,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye'se ne'er be slain by me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But he lay by his napkin fine,<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was saft as ony silk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on the block he laid his neck,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was whiter than the milk.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Says, "Strike the blow, ye headsman, boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And that right speedilie;<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">It's never be said here gaes a knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was ance condemn'd to die."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The head was ta'en frae young Waters,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And mony tears for him shed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But mair did mourn for fair Margaret,<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As raving she lyes mad.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 307 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LAMMIKIN_See_p_94" id="LAMMIKIN_See_p_94"></a>LAMMIKIN. See p. <a href="#Page_94">94</a>.</h3> + +<p class="center">Finlay's <i>Scottish Ballads</i>, ii. 47.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lammikin was as gude a mason<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As ever hewed a stane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He biggit Lord Weire's castle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But payment gat he nane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sen ye winna gie me my guerdon, lord,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sen ye winna gie me my hire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This gude castle, sae stately built,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I sall gar rock wi' fire.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sen ye winna gie me my wages, lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye sall hae cause to rue:"<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And syne he brewed a black revenge,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And syne he vowed a vow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Lammikin sair wroth, sair wroth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Returned again to Downe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But or he gaed, he vow'd and vow'd,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The castle should sweep the ground.<!-- Page 308 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O byde at hame, my gude Lord Weire,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I weird ye byde at hame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gang na to this day's hunting,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To leave me a' alane.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yae night, yae night, I dreamt this bower<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O red, red blude was fu';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin ye gang to this black hunting,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I sall hae cause to rue."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Wha looks to dreams, my winsome dame?<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nae cause hae ye to fear:"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And syne he kindly kissed her cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And syne the starting tear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now to the gude green-wood he's gane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She to her painted bower;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But first she closed the windows and doors<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the castle, ha', and tower.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They steeked doors, they steeked yetts,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Close to the cheek and chin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They steeked them a' but a wee wicket,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Lammikin crap in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Where are the lads o' this castle?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says the Lammikin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"They are a' wi Lord Weire, hunting,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The false nourice did sing.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Where are the lasses o' this castle?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says the Lammikin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"They are a' out at the washing,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The false nourice did sing.<!-- Page 309 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But where's the lady o' this castle?"<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says the Lammikin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"She is in her bower sewing,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The false nourice did sing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Is this the bairn o' this house?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says the Lammikin;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The only bairn Lord Weire aughts,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The false nourice did sing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lammikin nipped the bonnie babe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While loud false nourice sings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lammikin nipped the bonnie babe,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till high the red blude springs.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Still my bairn, nourice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O still him if ye can:"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He will not still, madam,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For a' his father's lan'."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O gentle nourice, still my bairn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O still him wi' the keys:"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He will not still, fair lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let me do what I please."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O still my bairn, kind nourice,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">O still him wi' the ring:"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He will not still, my lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let me do any thing."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O still my bairn, gude nourice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O still him wi' the knife:"<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He will not still, dear mistress mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gin I'd lay down my life."<!-- Page 310 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sweet nourice, loud, loud cries my bairn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O still him wi' the bell:"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He will not still, dear lady,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till ye cum down yoursell."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The first step she stepped,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She stepped on a stane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The next step she stepped,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She met the Lammikin.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when she saw the red, red blude,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A loud skriech skrieched she:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O monster, monster, spare my child,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who never skaithed thee!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O spare, if in your bluidy breast<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Abides not heart of stane!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O spare, an' ye sall hae o' gold<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ye can carry hame!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I carena for your gold," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I carena for your fee:<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hae been wranged by your lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Black vengeance ye sall drie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Here are nae serfs to guard your haa's,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nae trusty spearmen here;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In yon green wood they sound the horn,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And chace the doe and deer.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Tho merry sounds the gude green wood<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' huntsmen, hounds, and horn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your lord sall rue ere sets yon sun<br /></span> +<!-- Page 311 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span><span class="i2">He has done me skaith and scorn."<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O nourice, wanted ye your meat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or wanted ye your fee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or wanted ye for any thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A fair lady could gie?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I wanted for nae meat, ladie,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wanted for nae fee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I wanted for a hantle<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A fair lady could gie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then Lammikin drew his red, red sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sharped it on a stane,<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And through and through this fair ladie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The cauld, cauld steel is gane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nor lang was't after this foul deed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till Lord Weire cumin' hame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thocht he saw his sweet bairn's bluid<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sprinkled on a stane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I wish a' may be weel," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Wi' my ladie at hame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the rings upon my fingers<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Are bursting in twain."<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But mair he look'd, and dule saw he,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the door at the trance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spots o' his dear ladys bluid<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shining like a lance.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There's bluid in my nursery,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">There's bluid in my ha',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's bluid in my fair lady's bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' that's warst of a'."<!-- Page 312 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O sweet, sweet sang the birdie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon the bough sae hie,<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But little cared false nourice for that,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For it was her gallows tree.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out he set, and his braw men<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rode a' the country roun';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere lang they faud the Lammikin<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Had sheltered near to Downe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They carried him a' airts o' wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And mickle pain had he,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At last before Lord Weire's gate<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They hanged him on the tree.<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 313 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LONG_LONKIN_See_p_94" id="LONG_LONKIN_See_p_94"></a>LONG LONKIN. See p. <a href="#Page_94">94</a>.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Richardson's <i>Borderer's Table-Book</i>, viii. 410.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The lord said to his ladie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As he mounted his horse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Beware of Long Lonkin<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That lies in the moss."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The lord said to his ladie,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As he rode away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Beware of Long Lonkin<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That lies in the clay."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What care I for Lonkin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or any of his gang?<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">My doors are all shut<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And my windows penned in."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There are six little windows,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And they were all shut,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But one little window,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And that was forgot.<!-- Page 314 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i0">* * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at that little window<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Long Lonkin crept in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Where's the lord of the hall?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says the Lonkin;<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He's gone up to London,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says Orange to him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Where's the men of the hall?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says the Lonkin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"They're at the field ploughing,"<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says Orange to him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Where's the maids of the hall?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says the Lonkin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"They're at the well washing,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says Orange to him.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Where's the ladies of the hall?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says the Lonkin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"They're up in their chambers,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says Orange to him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"How shall we get them down?"<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says the Lonkin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Prick the babe in the cradle,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says Orange to him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Rock well my cradle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bee-ba my son;<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye shall have a new gown<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When the lord he comes home."<!-- Page 315 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Still she did prick it,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bee-ba she cried;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Come down, dearest mistress,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And still your own child."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O still my child, Orange,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Still him with a bell;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I can't still him, ladie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till you come down yoursell."<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hold the gold basin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For your heart's blood to run in,"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i0">* * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"To hold the gold basin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It grieves me full sore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh kill me, dear Lonkin,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And let my mother go."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * *<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 316 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_LAIRD_OF_WARISTOUN_See_p_107" id="THE_LAIRD_OF_WARISTOUN_See_p_107"></a>THE LAIRD OF WARISTOUN. See p. <a href="#Page_107">107</a>.</h3> + + +<p>"John Kincaid, Laird of Waristoun, (an estate +situated between the city of Edinburgh and the sea, +towards Leith,) was murdered, on the 2d of July, 1600, +by a man named Robert Weir, who was employed to +do so by his wife, Jean Livingstone, daughter of the +Laird of Dunipace. The unfortunate woman, who +thus became implicated in a crime so revolting to humanity, +was only twenty-one years of age at the time. +It is probable from some circumstances, that her husband +was considerably older than herself, and also that +their marriage was any thing but one of love. It is +only alleged, however, that she was instigated to seek +his death by resentment for some bad treatment on his +part, and, in particular, for a bite which he had inflicted +on her arm. There was something extraordinary +in the deliberation with which this wretched woman +approached the awful gulf of crime. Having resolved +on the means to be employed in the murder, she sent +for a quondam servant of her father, Robert Weir, +who lived in the neighbouring city. He came to the +place of Waristoun, to see her; but, for some unexplained +reason was not admitted. She again sent for +him, and he again went. Again he was not admitted.<!-- Page 317 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> +At length, on his being called a third time, he was +introduced to her presence. Before this time she had +found an accomplice in the nurse of her child. It was +then arranged, that Weir should be concealed in a +cellar till the dead of night, when he should come forth +and proceed to destroy the laird as he lay in his chamber. +The bloody tragedy was acted precisely in accordance +with this plan. Weir was brought up, at +midnight, from the cellar to the hall by the lady herself, +and afterwards went forward alone to the laird's +bedroom. As he proceeded to his bloody work, she +retired to her bed, to wait the intelligence of her husband's +murder. When Weir entered the chamber, +Waristoun awoke with the noise, and leant inquiringly +over the side of the bed. The murderer then leapt +upon him; the unhappy man uttered a great cry; +Weir gave him several dreadful blows on vital parts, +particularly one on the flank vein. But as the laird +was still able to cry out, he at length saw fit to take +more effective measures: he seized him by the throat +with both hands, and compressing that part with all +his force, succeeded, after a few minutes, in depriving +him of life. When the lady heard her husband's first +death-shout, she leapt out of bed, in an agony of mingled +horror and repentance, and descended to the hall: +but she made no effort to countermand her mission of +destruction. She waited patiently till Weir came +down to inform her that all was over.</p> + +<p>"Weir made an immediate escape from justice; but +Lady Waristoun and the nurse were apprehended before +the deed was half a day old. Being caught, as +the Scottish law terms it, <i>red-hand</i>,—that is, while +still bearing unequivocal marks of guilt, they were<!-- Page 318 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> +immediately tried by the magistrates of Edinburgh, +and sentenced to be strangled and burnt at a stake. +The lady's father, the Laird of Dunipace, was a favourite +of King James VI., and he made all the interest +he could with his majesty to procure a pardon; but +all that could be obtained from the king, was an order +that the unhappy lady should be executed by decapitation, +and that at such an early hour in the morning +as to make the affair as little of a spectacle as possible.</p> + +<p>"The space intervening between her sentence and +her execution was only thirty-seven hours; yet, in +that little time, Lady Waristoun contrived to become +converted from a blood-stained and unrelenting murderess +into a perfect saint on earth. One of the then +ministers of Edinburgh has left an account of her conversion, +which was lately published, and would be extremely +amusing, were it not for the disgust which +seizes the mind on beholding such an instance of perverted +religion. She went to the scaffold with a demeanour +which would have graced a martyr. Her +lips were incessant in the utterance of pious exclamations. +She professed herself confident of everlasting +happiness. She even grudged every moment which +she spent in this world, as so much taken from that +sum of eternal felicity which she was to enjoy in the +next. The people who came to witness the last scene, +instead of having their minds inspired with salutary +horror for her crime, were engrossed in admiration of +her saintly behaviour, and greedily gathered up every +devout word which fell from her tongue. It would +almost appear from the narrative of the clergyman, +that her fate was rather a matter of envy than of any +other feeling. Her execution took place at four in<!-- Page 319 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> +the morning of the 5th of July, at the Watergate, near +Holyroodhouse; and at the same hour her nurse was +burnt on the castle-hill. It is some gratification to +know, that the actual murderer, Weir, was eventually +seized and executed, though not till four years after."</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Chambers's</span> <i>Scottish Ballads</i>, p. 129.<br /> +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center">From Buchan's <i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i>, i. 56.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My mother was an ill woman,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In fifteen years she married me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hadna wit to guide a man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Alas! ill counsel guided me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Warriston, O Warriston,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wish that ye may sink for sin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I was but bare fifteen years auld,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whan first I enter'd your yates within.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I hadna been a month married,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till my gude lord went to the sea;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I bare a bairn ere he came hame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And set it on the nourice knee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But it fell ance upon a day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That my gude lord return'd from sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then I did dress in the best array,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As blythe as ony bird on tree.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I took my young son in my arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Likewise my nourice me forebye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I went down to yon shore side,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 320 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span><span class="i2">My gude lord's vessel I might spy.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My lord he stood upon the deck,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wyte he hail'd me courteouslie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ye are thrice welcome, my lady gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whase aught that bairn on your knee?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She turn'd her right and round about,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says, "Why take ye sic dreads o' me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas! I was too young married,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To love another man but thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now hold your tongue, my lady gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nae mair falsehoods ye'll tell to me;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">This bonny bairn is not mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You've loved another while I was on sea."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In discontent then hame she went,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And aye the tear did blin' her e'e;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says, "Of this wretch I'll be revenged,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For these harsh words he's said to me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's counsell'd wi' her father's steward,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What way she cou'd revenged be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bad was the counsel then he gave,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It was to gar her gude lord dee.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The nourice took the deed in hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wat she was well paid her fee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She kiest the knot, and the loop she ran,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which soon did gar this young lord dee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His brother lay in a room hard by,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Alas! that night he slept too soun';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But then he waken'd wi a cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I fear my brother's putten down.<!-- Page 321 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O get me coal and candle light,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And get me some gude companie;"<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But before the light was brought,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Warriston he was gart dee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They've ta'en the lady and fause nourice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In prison strong they ha'e them boun';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The nourice she was hard o' heart,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But the bonny lady fell in swoon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In it came her brother dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And aye a sorry man was he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I wou'd gie a' the lands I heir,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O bonny Jean, to borrow thee."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O borrow me brother, borrow me,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O borrow'd shall I never be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I gart kill my ain gude lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And life is nae pleasure to me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In it came her mother dear,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wyte a sorry woman was she;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I wou'd gie my white monie and gowd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O bonny Jean, to borrow thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Borrow me mother, borrow me,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O borrow'd shall I never be;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I gart kill my ain gude lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And life's now nae pleasure to me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then in it came her father dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wyte a sorry man was he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says, "Ohon, alas! my bonny Jean,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">If I had you at hame wi' me.<!-- Page 322 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Seven daughters I ha'e left at hame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As fair women as fair can be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I wou'd gi'e them ane by ane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O bonny Jean, to borrow thee."<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O borrow me father, borrow me,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O borrow'd shall I never be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I that is worthy o' the death,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It is but right that I shou'd dee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out it speaks the king himsell,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And aye as he steps in the fleer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says, "I grant you your life, lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Because you are of tender year."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A boon, a boon, my liege the king,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The boon I ask, ye'll grant to me:"<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ask on, ask on, my bonny Jean,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whate'er ye ask it's granted be."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Cause take me out at night, at night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lat not the sun upon me shine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And take me to yon heading hill,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Strike aff this dowie head o' mine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll take me out at night, at night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When there are nane to gaze and see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ha'e me to yon heading hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ye'll gar head me speedilie."<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They've ta'en her out at nine at night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Loot not the sun upon her shine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And had her to yon heading hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And headed her baith neat and fine.<!-- Page 323 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out it speaks the king himsell,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wyte a sorry man was he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I've travell'd east, I've travell'd west,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sailed far beyond the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I never saw a woman's face<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I was sae sorry to see dee.<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But Warriston was sair to blame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For slighting o' his lady so;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had the wyte o' his ain death,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bonny lady's overthrow."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 324 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="MARY_HAMILTON_Kinloch" id="MARY_HAMILTON_Kinloch"></a>MARY HAMILTON. See p. <a href="#Page_113">113</a>.</h3> + +<p>A "North Country" version from Kinloch's <i>Ancient +Scottish Ballads</i>, p. 252. The Editor furnishes the +two following stanzas of another copy:—</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My father is the Duke of Argyle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My mother's a lady gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I mysel am a daintie dame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the king desired me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He shaw'd me up, he shaw'd me doun,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He shaw'd me to the ha',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He shaw'd me to the low cellars,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And that was warst of a'.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In one of Motherwell's copies, and in Buchan's, the +heroine calls herself daughter of the Duke of York.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Whan I was a babe, and a very little babe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And stood at my mither's knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nae witch nor warlock did unfauld<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The death I was to dree.<!-- Page 325 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But my mither was a proud woman,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A proud woman and a bauld;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she hired me to Queen Mary's bouer<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When scarce eleven years auld.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O happy, happy, is the maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That's born of beauty free!<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was my dimpling rosy cheeks<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That's been the dule o' me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wae be to that weirdless wicht,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a' his witcherie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Word's gane up and word's gane doun,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And word's gane to the ha',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Mary Hamilton was wi' bairn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And na body ken'd to wha.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But in and cam the Queen hersel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' gowd plait on her hair;—<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says, "Mary Hamilton, whare is the babe<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That I heard greet sae sair?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There is na babe within my bouer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I hope there ne'er will be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But it's me wi' a sair and sick colic,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I'm just like to dee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But they looked up, they looked down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Atween the bowsters and the wa',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It's there they got a bonnie lad-bairn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But it's life it was awa'.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Rise up, rise up, Mary Hamilton,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rise up, and dress ye fine,<!-- Page 326 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For you maun gang to Edinbruch,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><a name="LNanchor_A_6_34" id="LNanchor_A_6_34"></a><a href="#Linenote_A_6_34" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">And stand afore the nine.</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll no put on the dowie black,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor yet the dowie brown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ye'll put on the robes o' red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To sheen thro' Edinbruch town."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'll no put on the dowie black,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor yet the dowie brown;<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I'll put on the robes o' red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To sheen thro' Edinbruch town."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As they gaed thro' Edinbruch town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And down by the Nether-bow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There war monie a lady fair<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Siching and crying, "Och how!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O weep na mair for me, ladies,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Weep na mair for me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yestreen I killed my ain bairn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The day I deserve to dee.<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What need ye hech! and how! ladies,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What need ye how! for me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye never saw grace at a graceless face,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Queen Mary has nane to gie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gae forward, gae forward," the Queen she said,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 327 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span><span class="i2">"Gae forward, that ye may see;<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the very same words that ye hae said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sall hang ye on the gallows tree."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As she gaed up the Tolbooth stairs,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She gied loud lauchters three;<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But or ever she cam down again,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She was condemn'd to dee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O tak example frae me, Maries,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O tak example frae me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor gie your luve to courtly lords,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor heed their witchin' ee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But wae be to the Queen hersel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She micht hae pardon'd me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sair she's striven for me to hang<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon the gallows tree.<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yestreen the Queen had four Maries,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The nicht she'll hae but three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was Mary Beatoun, Mary Seaton,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Mary Carmichael, and me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Aft hae I set pearls in her hair,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Aft hae I lac'd her gown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And this is the reward I now get,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To be hang'd in Edinbruch town!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O a' ye mariners, far and near,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That sail ayont the faem,<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O dinna let my father and mither ken,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But what I am coming hame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O a' ye mariners, far and near,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That sail ayont the sea,<!-- Page 328 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let na my father and mither ken,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The death I am to dee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sae, weep na mair for me, ladies,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Weep na mair for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mither that kills her ain bairn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Deserves weel for to dee."<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_A_6_34" id="Linenote_A_6_34"></a><a href="#LNanchor_A_6_34" title="link to line number">34</a>. Anciently the supreme criminal court of Scotland was +composed of nine members, viz. the Justiciar, or Justice General, +and his eight Deputes. <span class="smcap">Kinloch.</span></p> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 329 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="MARY_HAMILTON_Maidment" id="MARY_HAMILTON_Maidment"></a>MARY HAMILTON. See p <a href="#Page_113">113</a>.</h3> + +<p class="center">Maidment's <i>North Countrie Garland</i>, p. 19.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then down cam Queen Marie<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' gold links in her hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saying, "Marie mild, where is the child,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That I heard greet sair sair?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There was nae child wi' me, madam,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">There was nae child wi' me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was but me in a sair cholic,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When I was like to die."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'm not deceived," Queen Marie said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"No, no, indeed, not I!<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">So Marie mild, where is the child?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For sure I heard it cry."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She turned down the blankets fine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Likewise the Holland sheet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And underneath, there strangled lay<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A lovely baby sweet.<!-- Page 330 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O cruel mother," said the Queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Some fiend possessed thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I will hang thee for this deed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My Marie tho' thou be!"<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When she cam to the Nether-Bow Port,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She laugh't loud laughters three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when she cam to the gallows foot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The saut tear blinded her ee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yestreen the Queen had four Maries,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The night she'll hae but three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was Marie Seton, and Marie Beaton,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Marie Carmichael and me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye mariners, ye mariners,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That sail upon the sea,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let not my father or mother wit<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The death that I maun die.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I was my parents' only hope,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They ne'er had ane but me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They little thought when I left hame,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">They should nae mair me see!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 331 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="SIR_HUGH_OR_THE_JEWS_DAUGHTER" id="SIR_HUGH_OR_THE_JEWS_DAUGHTER"></a>SIR HUGH, OR THE JEW'S DAUGHTER.<br />See p. <a href="#Page_136">136</a>.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Motherwell's <i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. 51; taken down from recitation.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yesterday was brave Hallowday,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And, above all days of the year,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The schoolboys all got leave to play,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And little Sir Hugh was there.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He kicked the ball with his foot,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And kepped it with his knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And even in at the Jew's window<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He gart the bonnie ba' flee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out then came the Jew's daughter,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Will ye come in and dine?"<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I winna come in and I canna come in<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till I get that ball of mine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Throw down that ball to me, maiden,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Throw down the ball to me."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I winna throw down your ball, Sir Hugh,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till ye come up to me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She pu'd the apple frae the tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It was baith red and green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She gave it unto little Sir Hugh,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 332 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span><span class="i2">With that his heart did win.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She wiled him into ae chamber,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She wiled him into twa,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She wiled him into the third chamber,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And that was warst o't a'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She took out a little penknife,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hung low down by her spare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She twined this young thing o' his life,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a word he ne'er spak mair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And first came out the thick, thick blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And syne came out the thin,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And syne came out the bonnie heart's blood,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There was nae mair within.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She laid him on a dressing table,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She dress'd him like a swine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says, "Lie ye there, my bonnie Sir Hugh,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' ye're apples red and green!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She put him in a case of lead,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says, "Lie ye there and sleep!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She threw him into the deep draw-well<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was fifty fathom deep.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A schoolboy walking in the garden<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Did grievously hear him moan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He ran away to the deep draw-well<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fell down on his knee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Says, "Bonnie Sir Hugh, and pretty Sir Hugh,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I pray you speak to me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you speak to any body in this world,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I pray you speak to me."<!-- Page 333 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When bells were rung and mass was sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And every body went hame,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then every lady had her son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But Lady Helen had nane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She rolled her mantle her about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sore, sore did she weep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She ran away to the Jew's castle,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">When all were fast asleep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She cries, "Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I pray you speak to me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you speak to any body in this world,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I pray you speak to me."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lady Helen, if ye want your son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll tell ye where to seek;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lady Helen, if ye want your son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He's in the well sae deep."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She ran away to the deep draw-well,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she fell down on her knee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saying, "Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I pray ye speak to me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If ye speak to any body in the world,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I pray ye speak to me."<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oh! the lead it is wondrous heavy, mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The well it is wondrous deep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The little penknife sticks in my throat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I downa to ye speak.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But lift me out o' this deep draw-well,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bury me in yon churchyard;<!-- Page 334 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Put a Bible at my head," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"And a testament at my feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pen and ink at every side,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I'll lie still and sleep.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And go to the back of Maitland town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bring me my winding sheet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For it's at the back of Maitland town<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That you and I shall meet."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The broom that makes full sore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A woman's mercy is very little,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But a man's mercy is more.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 335 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="SIR_HUGH_See_p_136" id="SIR_HUGH_See_p_136"></a>SIR HUGH. See p. <a href="#Page_136">136</a>.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Hume's <i>Sir Hugh of Lincoln</i>, p. 35; obtained from +recitation, in Ireland.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas on a summer's morning,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Some scholars were playing at ball;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When out came the Jew's daughter<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lean'd her back against the wall.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She said unto the fairest boy,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Come here to me, Sir Hugh."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"No! I will not," said he,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Without my playfellows too."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She took an apple out of her pocket,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And trundled it along the plain;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And who was readiest to lift it,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was little Sir Hugh, again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She took him by the milk-white han',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' led him through many a hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until they came to one stone chamber,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where no man might hear his call.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She sat him in a goolden chair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And jagg'd him with a pin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And called for a goolden cup<br /></span> +<!-- Page 336 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span><span class="i2">To houl' his heart's blood in.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She tuk him by the yellow hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' also by the feet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' she threw him in the deep draw well,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It was fifty fadom deep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Day bein' over, the night came on,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the scholars all went home;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then every mother had her son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But little Sir Hugh's had none.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She put her mantle about her head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tuk a little rod in her han',<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' she says, "Sir Hugh, if I fin' you here,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I will bate you for stayin' so long."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">First she went to the Jew's door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But they were fast asleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' then she went to the deep draw-well,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That was fifty fadom deep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She says, "Sir Hugh, if you be here,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I suppose you be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If ever the dead or quick arose,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Arise and spake to me."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yes, mother dear, I am here,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I know I have staid very long;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a little penknife was stuck in my heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till the stream ran down full strong.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And mother dear, when you go home,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tell my playfellows all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I lost my life by leaving them<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When playing that game of ball.<!-- Page 337 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And ere another day is gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My winding-sheet prepare,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bury me in the green churchyard<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where the flowers are bloomin' fair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lay my Bible at my head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My testament at my feet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The earth and worms shall be my bed,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till Christ and I shall meet.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 338 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="SIR_PATRICK_SPENS_See_p_147" id="SIR_PATRICK_SPENS_See_p_147"></a>SIR PATRICK SPENS. See p. <a href="#Page_147">147</a>.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Buchan's <i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i>, i. 1.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The King sits in Dunfermline town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A-drinking at the wine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says, "Where will I get a good skipper<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will sail the saut seas fine?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out it speaks an eldren knight<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Amang the companie,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Young Patrick Spens is the best skipper<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ever sail'd the sea."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The king he wrote a braid letter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And seal'd it wi' his ring;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says, "Ye'll gi'e that to Patrick Spens:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">See if ye can him find."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He sent this, not wi' an auld man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor yet a simple boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the best o' nobles in his train<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">This letter did convoy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When Patrick look'd the letter upon<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A light laugh then ga'e he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ere he read it till an end,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 339 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span><span class="i2">The tear blinded his e'e.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll eat and drink, my merry men a',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' see ye be weell thorn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For blaw it weet, or blaw it wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My guid ship sails the morn."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out it speaks a guid auld man,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A guid death mat he dee,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Whatever ye do, my guid master,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tak' God your guide to bee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For late yestreen I saw the new moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The auld moon in her arm."<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ohon, alas!" says Patrick Spens,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That bodes a deadly storm.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But I maun sail the seas the morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And likewise sae maun you;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Noroway, wi' our king's daughter,—<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A chosen queen she's now.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But I wonder who has been sae base,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As tauld the king o' mee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even tho' hee ware my ae brither,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An ill death mat he dee."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now Patrick he rigg'd out his ship,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sailed ower the faem;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But mony a dreary thought had hee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While hee was on the main.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They hadna sail'd upon the sea<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A day but barely three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till they came in sight o' Noroway,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's there where they must bee.<!-- Page 340 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They hadna stayed into that place<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A month but and a day,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till he caus'd the flip in mugs gae roun',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And wine in cans sae gay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The pipe and harp sae sweetly play'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The trumpets loudly soun';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In every hall where in they stay'd,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' their mirth did reboun'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out it speaks an auld skipper,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An inbearing dog was hee,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ye've stay'd ower lang in Noroway,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Spending your king's monie."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out it speaks Sir Patrick Spens,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"O how can a' this bee?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I ha'e a bow o' guid red gowd<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Into my ship wi' mee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But betide me well, betide me wae,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">This day I'se leave the shore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And never spend my king's monie<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Mong Noroway dogs no more."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Young Patrick hee is on the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And even on the faem,<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wi' five-an-fifty Scots lords' sons,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That lang'd to bee at hame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They hadna sail'd upon the sea<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A day but barely three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till loud and boistrous grew the wind,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And stormy grew the sea.<!-- Page 341 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O where will I get a little wee boy<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will tak' my helm in hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till I gae up to my tapmast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And see for some dry land?"<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He hadna gane to his tapmast<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A step but barely three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere thro' and thro' the bonny ship's side,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He saw the green haw sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There are five-an-fifty feather beds<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Well packed in ae room;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ye'll get as muckle guid canvas<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As wrap the ship a' roun';<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll pict her well, and spare her not,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And mak' her hale and soun'."<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ere he had the word well spoke<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The bonny ship was down.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O laith, laith were our guid lords' sons<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To weet their milk-white hands;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But lang ere a' the play was ower<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">They wat their gowden bands.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O laith, laith were our Scots lords' sons<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To weet their coal-black shoon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But lang ere a' the play was ower<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They wat their hats aboon.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It's even ower by Aberdour<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's fifty fathoms deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yonder lies Sir Patrick Spens,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a's men at his feet.<!-- Page 342 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It's even ower by Aberdour,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">There's mony a craig and fin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yonder lies Sir Patrick Spens,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' mony a guid lord's son.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lang, lang will the ladyes look<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Into their morning weed,<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before they see young Patrick Spens<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come sailing ower the fleed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lang, lang will the ladyes look<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' their fans in their hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before they see him, Patrick Spens,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come sailing to dry land.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 343 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LORD_LIVINGSTON" id="LORD_LIVINGSTON"></a>LORD LIVINGSTON.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Buchan's <i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i>, ii. 39.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It fell about the Lammas time,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When wightsmen won their hay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A' the squires in merry Linkum,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Went a' forth till a play.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They play'd until the evening tide,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The sun was gaeing down;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lady thro' plain fields was bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A lily leesome thing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Two squires that for this lady pledged,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In hopes for a renown;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The one was call'd the proud Seaton,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The other Livingston.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"When will ye, Michaell o' Livingston,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wad for this lady gay?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"To-morrow, to-morrow," said Livingston,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"To-morrow, if you may."<!-- Page 344 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then they hae wadded their wagers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And laid their pledges down;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the high castle o' Edinbro'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They made them ready boun'.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The chamber that they did gang in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There it was daily dight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The kipples were like the gude red gowd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As they stood up in hight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the roof-tree like the siller white,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And shin'd like candles bright.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The lady fair into that ha'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was comely to be seen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her kirtle was made o' the pa',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her gowns seem'd o' the green.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her gowns seem'd like green, like green,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her kirtle o' the pa';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A siller wand intill her hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She marshall'd ower them a'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She gae every knight a lady bright,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And every squire a may;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her own sell chose him, Livingston,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They were a comely tway.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then Seaton started till his foot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The fierce flame in his e'e:<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"On the next day, wi' sword in hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On plain fields, meet ye me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When bells were rung, and mass was sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a' man bound for bed;<!-- Page 345 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord Livingston and his fair dame<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">In bed were sweetly laid.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The bed, the bed, where they lay in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was cover'd wi' the pa';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A covering o' the gude red gowd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lay nightly ower the twa.<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So they lay there, till on the morn<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The sun shone on their feet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then up it raise him, Livingston,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To draw to him a weed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The first an' weed that he drew on,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was o' the linen clear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The next an' weed that he drew on,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It was a weed o' weir.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The niest an' weed that he drew on,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was gude iron and steel;<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twa gloves o' plate, a gowden helmet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Became that hind chiel weel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out it speaks that lady gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A little forbye stood she;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I'll dress mysell in men's array,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gae to the fields for thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O God forbid," said Livingston,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That e'er I dree the shame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My lady slain in plain fields,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I coward knight at hame!"<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He scarcely travelled frae the town<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A mile but barely twa,<!-- Page 346 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till he met wi' a witch woman,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I pray to send her wae.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"This is too gude a day, my lord,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To gang sae far frae town;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is too gude a day, my lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On field to make you boun'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I dream'd a dream concerning thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O read ill dreams to guid!<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your bower was full o' milk-white swans,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your bride's bed full o' bluid."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O bluid is gude," said Livingston,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"To bide it whoso may;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I be frae yon plain fields,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nane knew the plight I lay."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then he rade on to plain fields,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As swift's his horse cou'd hie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there he met the proud Seaton,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come boldly ower the lee.<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come on to me now, Livingston,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or then take foot and flee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is the day that we must try<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who gains the victorie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then they fought with sword in hand,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till they were bluidy men;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But on the point o' Seaton's sword<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Brave Livingston was slain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His lady lay ower castle wa',<br /></span> +<!-- Page 347 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span><span class="i2">Beholding dale and down,<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Blenchant brave, his gallant steed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Came prancing to the town.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O where is now my ain gude lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He stays sae far frae me?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O dinna ye see your ain gude lord,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Stand bleeding by your knee?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O live, O live, Lord Livingston,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The space o' ae half hour;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's nae a leech in Edinbro' town<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But I'll bring to your door."<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Awa' wi' your leeches, lady," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Of them I'll be the waur;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's nae a leech in Edinbro' town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That can strong death debar.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll take the lands o' Livingston,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And deal them liberallie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the auld that may not, the young that cannot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And blind that does na see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And help young maidens' marriages,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That has nae gear to gie."<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My mother got it in a book,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The first night I was born,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wou'd be wedded till a knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And him slain on the morn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But I will do for my love's sake<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">What ladies woudna thole;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere seven years shall hae an end,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nae shoe's gang on my sole.<!-- Page 348 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There's never lint gang on my head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor kame gang in my hair,<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor ever coal nor candle light,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shine in my bower mair."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When seven years were near an end,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The lady she thought lang;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wi' a crack her heart did brake,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sae this ends my sang.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 349 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CLERK_TAMAS" id="CLERK_TAMAS"></a>CLERK TAMAS.</h3> + +<p class="center">Buchan's <i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i>, i. 43.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Clerk Tamas lov'd her, fair Annie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As well as Mary lov'd her son;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now he hates her, fair Annie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And hates the lands that she lives in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ohon, alas!" said fair Annie,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Alas! this day I fear I'll die;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I will on to sweet Tamas,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And see gin he will pity me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As Tamas lay ower his shott-window,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Just as the sun was gaen down,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There he beheld her, fair Annie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As she came walking to the town.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O where are a' my well-wight men,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wat that I pay meat and fee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For to lat a' my hounds gang loose,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To hunt this vile whore to the sea!"<!-- Page 350 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The hounds they knew the lady well,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And nane o' them they wou'd her bite;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Save ane that is ca'd Gaudy-where,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wat he did the lady smite.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O wae mat worth ye, Gaudy-where,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An ill reward this is to me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ae bit that I gae the lave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'm very sure I've gi'en you three.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For me, alas! there's nae remeid,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Here comes the day that I maun die;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I ken ye lov'd your master well,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sae, alas for me, did I!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A captain lay ower his ship window,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Just as the sun was gaen down;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There he beheld her, fair Annie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As she was hunted frae the town.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gin ye'll forsake father and mither,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sae will ye your friends and kin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin ye'll forsake your lands sae broad,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then come and I will take you in."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yes, I'll forsake baith father and mither,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sae will I my friends and kin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes, I'll forsake my lands sae broad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And come, gin ye will take me in."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then a' thing gaed frae fause Tamas,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And there was naething byde him wi';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then he thought lang for Arrandella,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It was fair Annie for to see.<!-- Page 351 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"How do ye now, ye sweet Tamas?<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And how gaes a' in your countrie?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I'll do better to you than ever I've done,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fair Annie, gin ye'll come an' see."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O Guid forbid," said fair Annie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That e'er the like fa' in my hand;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wou'd I forsake my ain gude lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And follow you, a gae-through-land?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yet nevertheless now, sweet Tamas,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye'll drink a cup o' wine wi' me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And nine times in the live lang day,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your fair claithing shall changed be."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair Annie pat it till her cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae did she till her milk-white chin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sae did she till her flattering lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But never a drap o' wine gaed in.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tamas pat it till his cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae did he till his dimpled chin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He pat it till his rosy lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And then the well o' wine gaed in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"These pains," said he, "are ill to bide;<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Here is the day that I maun die;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O take this cup frae me, Annie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For o' the same I am weary."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And sae was I, o' you, Tamas,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When I was hunted to the sea;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I'se gar bury you in state,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which is mair than ye'd done to me."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 352 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="JOHN_THOMSON_AND_THE_TURK" id="JOHN_THOMSON_AND_THE_TURK"></a>JOHN THOMSON AND THE TURK.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Motherwell's <i>Minstrelsy</i>, Appendix, p. ix. The same +in Buchan's collection, ii. 159.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">John Thomson fought against the Turks<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Three years, intill a far countrie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all that time, and something mair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was absent from his gay ladie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But it fell ance upon a time,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As this young chieftain sat alane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He spied his lady in rich array,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As she walk'd ower a rural plain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What brought ye here, my lady gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So far awa from your ain countrie?<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've thought lang, and very lang,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And all for your fair face to see."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For some days she did with him stay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till it fell ance upon a day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Fareweel, for a time," she said,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"For now I must boun hame away."<!-- Page 353 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's gi'en to her a jewel fine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was set with pearl and precious stane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says, "My love, beware of these savages bold<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That's in your way as ye gang hame.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll tak the road, my lady fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That leads you fair across the lea:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That keeps you from wild Hind Soldan,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And likewise from base Violentrie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wi' heavy heart thir twa did pairt,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">She mintet as she wuld gae hame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hind Soldan by the Greeks was slain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But to base Violentrie she's gane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When a twelvemonth had expired,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">John Thomson he thought wondrous lang,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he has written a braid letter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sealed it weel wi' his ain hand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He sent it with a small vessel<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That there was quickly gaun to sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sent it on to fair Scotland,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To see about his gay ladie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the answer he received again,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The lines did grieve his heart right sair:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nane of her friends there had her seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For a twelvemonth and something mair.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then he put on a palmer's weed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And took a pike-staff in his hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Violentrie's castell he hied;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But slowly, slowly he did gang.<!-- Page 354 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When within the hall he came,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He jooked and couch'd out ower his tree:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"If ye be lady of this hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Some of your good bountith gie me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What news, what news, palmer," she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"And from what countrie cam ye?"<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I'm lately come from Grecian plains,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where lies some of the Scots armie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If ye be come from Grecian plains,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Some mair news I will ask of thee,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of one of the chieftains that lies there,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">If he has lately seen his gay ladie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It is twa months, and something mair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Since we did pairt on yonder plain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now this knight has began to fear<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One of his foes he has her ta'en."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He has not ta'en me by force nor slight;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It was a' by my ain free will;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He may tarry into the fight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For here I mean to tarry still.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And if John Thomson ye do see,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tell him I wish him silent sleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His head was not so coziely,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor yet sae weel, as lies at my feet."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With that he threw aff his strange disguise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Laid by the mask that he had on;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said, "Hide me now, my lady fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For Violentrie will soon be hame."<!-- Page 355 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For the love I bore thee ance,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll strive to hide you, if I can:"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then she put him down in a dark cellar<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where there lay many a new slain man.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But he hadna in the cellar been,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Not an hour but barely three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then hideous was the noise he heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When in at the gate cam Violentrie.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Says, "I wish you well, my lady fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's time for us to sit to dine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, serve me with the good white bread,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And likewise with the claret wine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"That Scots chieftain, our mortal fae,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae aft frae the field has made us flee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ten thousand zechins this day I'll give<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That I his face could only see."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Of that same gift wuld ye give me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If I wuld bring him unto thee?<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I fairly hold you at your word;—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come ben, John Thomson, to my lord."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then from the vault John Thomson came,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wringing his hands most piteouslie:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"What would ye do," the Turk he cried,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"If ye had me as I hae thee?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If I had you as ye have me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll tell ye what I'd do to thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd hang you up in good greenwood,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 356 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span><span class="i2">And cause your ain hand wale the tree.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I meant to stick you with my knife<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For kissing my beloved ladie:"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But that same weed ye've shaped for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It quickly shall be sewed for thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then to the wood they baith are gane;<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">John Thomson clamb frae tree to tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And aye he sighed and said, "Och hone!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Here comes the day that I must die."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He tied a ribbon on every branch,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Put up a flag his men might see;<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But little did his false faes ken<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He meant them any injurie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He set his horn unto his mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he has blawn baith loud and schill:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then three thousand armed men<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cam tripping all out ower the hill.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Deliver us our chief," they all did cry;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"It's by our hand that ye must die;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Here is your chief," the Turk replied,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With that fell on his bended knee.<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O mercy, mercy, good fellows all,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mercy I pray you'll grant to me;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Such mercy as ye meant to give,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Such mercy we shall give to thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This Turk they in his castel burnt,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That stood upon yon hill so hie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">John Thomson's gay ladie they took<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And hanged her on yon greenwood tree.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 357 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LORD_THOMAS_STUART" id="LORD_THOMAS_STUART"></a>LORD THOMAS STUART.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Maidment's <i>North Countrie Garland</i>, p. 1.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thomas Stuart was a lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A lord of mickle land;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He used to wear a coat of gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But now his grave is green.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now he has wooed the young countess,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Countess of Balquhin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' given her for a morning gift,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Strathboggie and Aboyne.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But women's wit is aye willful,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Alas! that ever it was sae;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">She longed to see the morning gift<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That her gude lord to her gae.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When steeds were saddled an' weel bridled,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' ready for to ride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There came a pain on that gude lord,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">His back, likewise his side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He said, "Ride on, my lady fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">May goodness be your guide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'm sae sick an' weary that<br /></span> +<!-- Page 358 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span><span class="i2">No farther can I ride."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now ben did come his father dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wearing a golden band;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says, "Is there nae leech in Edinburgh,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Can cure my son from wrang?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O leech is come, an' leech is gane,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet, father, I'm aye waur;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's not a leech in Edinbro'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Can death from me debar.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But be a friend to my wife, father,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Restore to her her own;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Restore to her my morning gift,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Strathboggie and Aboyne.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It had been gude for my wife, father,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To me she'd born a son;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He would have got my land an' rents,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where they lie out an' in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It had been gude for my wife, father,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To me she'd born an heir;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He would have got my land an' rents,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where they lie fine an' fair."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The steeds they strave into their stables,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The boys could'nt get them bound;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hounds lay howling on the leech,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Cause their master was behind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I dreamed a dream since late yestreen,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wish it may be good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That our chamber was full of swine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' our bed full of blood.<!-- Page 359 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I saw a woman come from the West,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Full sore wringing her hands,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And aye she cried, 'Ohon alas!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My good lord's broken bands.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"As she came by my good lord's bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Saw mony black steeds an' brown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm feared it be mony unco lords<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Havin' my love from town."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As she came by my gude lord's bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Saw mony black steeds an' grey;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I'm feared its mony unco lords<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Havin' my love to the clay."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 360 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_SPANISH_VIRGIN" id="THE_SPANISH_VIRGIN"></a>THE SPANISH VIRGIN.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Percy's <i>Reliques</i>, iii. 316.</p> + + +<p>The three following pieces are here inserted merely +as specimens of a class of tales, horrible in their incidents +but feeble in their execution, of which whole +dreary volumes were printed and read about two centuries +ago. They were all of them, probably, founded +on Italian novels.</p> + +<p>"The subject of this ballad is taken from a folio +collection of tragical stories, entitled, <i>The Theatre of +God's Judgments, by Dr. Beard and Dr. Taylor</i>, 1642. +Pt. 2, p. 89. The text is given (with corrections) +from two copies; one of them in black-letter in the +Pepys Collection. In this every stanza is accompanied +with the following distich by way of burden:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Oh jealousie! thou art nurst in hell:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Depart from hence, and therein dwell."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All tender hearts, that ake to hear<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of those that suffer wrong;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All you that never shed a tear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Give heed unto my song.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair Isabella's tragedy<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">My tale doth far exceed:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas, that so much cruelty<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In female hearts should breed!<!-- Page 361 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In Spain a lady liv'd of late,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who was of high degree;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose wayward temper did create<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Much woe and misery.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Strange jealousies so filled her head<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With many a vain surmize,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She thought her lord had wrong'd her bed,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And did her love despise.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A gentlewoman passing fair<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Did on this lady wait;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With bravest dames she might compare;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her beauty was compleat.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her lady cast a jealous eye<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon this gentle maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And taxt her with disloyaltye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And did her oft upbraid.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In silence still this maiden meek<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her bitter taunts would bear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While oft adown her lovely cheek<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Would steal the falling tear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In vain in humble sort she strove<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her fury to disarm;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">As well the meekness of the dove<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The bloody hawke might charm.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her lord, of humour light and gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And innocent the while,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As oft as she came in his way,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Would on the damsell smile.<!-- Page 362 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And oft before his lady's face,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As thinking her her friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He would the maiden's modest grace<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And comeliness commend.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All which incens'd his lady so,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She burnt with wrath extreame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At length the fire that long did glow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Burst forth into a flame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For on a day it so befell,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">When he was gone from home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lady all with rage did swell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And to the damsell come.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And charging her with great offence<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And many a grievous fault,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">She bade her servants drag her thence,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Into a dismal vault,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That lay beneath the common-shore,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A dungeon dark and deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where they were wont, in days of yore,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Offenders great to keep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There never light of chearful day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dispers'd the hideous gloom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But dank and noisome vapours play<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Around the wretched room:<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And adders, snakes, and toads therein,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As afterwards was known,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long in this loathsome vault had bin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And were to monsters grown.<!-- Page 363 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Into this foul and fearful place,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The fair one innocent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was cast, before her lady's face;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her malice to content.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This maid no sooner enter'd is,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But strait, alas! she hears<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The toads to croak, and snakes to hiss:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then grievously she fears.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Soon from their holes the vipers creep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fiercely her assail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which makes the damsel sorely weep,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And her sad fate bewail.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With her fair hands she strives in vain<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her body to defend;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With shrieks and cries she doth complain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But all is to no end.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A servant listning near the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Struck with her doleful noise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strait ran his lady to implore;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But she'll not hear his voice.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With bleeding heart he goes agen<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To mark the maiden's groans;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And plainly hears, within the den,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How she herself bemoans.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Again he to his lady hies,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With all the haste he may;<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">She into furious passion flies,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And orders him away.<!-- Page 364 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Still back again does he return<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To hear her tender cries;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The virgin now had ceas'd to mourn,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which fill'd him with surprize.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In grief, and horror, and affright,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He listens at the walls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But finding all was silent quite,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He to his lady calls.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Too sure, O lady," now quoth he,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Your cruelty hath sped;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make haste, for shame, and come and see;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I fear the virgin's dead."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She starts to hear her sudden fate,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And does with torches run;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But all her haste was now too late,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For death his worst had done.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The door being open'd, strait they found<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The virgin stretch'd along;<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two dreadful snakes had wrapt her round,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which her to death had stung.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One round her legs, her thighs, her waist,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Had twin'd his fatal wreath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The other close her neck embrac'd,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And stopt her gentle breath.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The snakes being from her body thrust,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Their bellies were so fill'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That with excess of blood they burst,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 365 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span><span class="i2">Thus with their prey were kill'd.<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wicked lady, at this sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With horror strait ran mad;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So raving dy'd, as was most right,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Cause she no pity had.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let me advise you, ladies all,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of jealousy beware:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It causeth many a one to fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And is the devil's snare.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 366 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_LADY_ISABELLAS_TRAGEDY" id="THE_LADY_ISABELLAS_TRAGEDY"></a>THE LADY ISABELLA'S TRAGEDY.</h3> + + +<p>"This ballad is given from an old black-letter copy +in the Pepys Collection, collated with another in the +British Museum, H. 263, folio. It is there entitled, +<i>The Lady Isabella's Tragedy, or the Step-Mother's Cruelty; +being a relation of a lamentable and cruel murther, +committed on the body of the Lady Isabella, the +only daughter of a noble Duke, &c. To the tune of +The Lady's Fall</i>. To some copies are annexed eight +more modern stanzas, entitled, <i>The Dutchess's and +Cook's Lamentation</i>." Percy's <i>Reliques</i>, iii. 199.</p> + +<p>The copy in Durfey's <i>Pills to Purge Melancholy</i>, +v. 53, is nearly <i>verbatim</i> the same.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There was a lord of worthy fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a hunting he would ride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Attended by a noble traine<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of gentrye by his side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And while he did in chase remaine,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To see both sport and playe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His ladye went, as she did feigne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Unto the church to praye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This lord he had a daughter deare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whose beauty shone so bright,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">She was belov'd, both far and neare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of many a lord and knight.<!-- Page 367 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair Isabella was she call'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A creature faire was shee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She was her fathers only joye;<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As you shall after see.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Therefore her cruel step-mother<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Did envye her so much,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That daye by daye she sought her life,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her malice it was such.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She bargain'd with the master-cook<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To take her life awaye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And taking of her daughter's book,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She thus to her did saye:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Go home, sweet daughter, I thee praye,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Go hasten presentlie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tell unto the master-cook<br /></span> +<span class="i2">These wordes that I tell thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And bid him dresse to dinner streight<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That faire and milk-white doe<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That in the parke doth shine so bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There's none so faire to showe."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This ladye fearing of no harme,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Obey'd her mothers will;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And presentlye she hasted home,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her pleasure to fulfill.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She streight into the kitchen went,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her message for to tell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there she spied the master-cook,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 368 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span><span class="i2">Who did with malice swell.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nowe, master-cook, it must be soe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Do that which I thee tell:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You needes must dresse the milk-white doe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which you do knowe full well."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then streight his cruell bloodye hands,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He on the ladye layd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who quivering and shaking stands,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While thus to her he sayd:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thou art the doe that I must dresse;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">See here, behold my knife;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For it is pointed presently<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To ridd thee of thy life."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O then," cried out the scullion-boye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As loud as loud might bee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O save her life, good master-cook,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And make your pyes of mee!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For pityes sake do not destroye<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My ladye with your knife;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You know shee is her father's joye;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For Christes sake save her life!"<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I will not save her life," he sayd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Nor make my pyes of thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet if thou dost this deed bewraye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy butcher I will bee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now when this lord he did come home<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For to sitt down and eat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He called for his daughter deare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To come and carve his meat.<!-- Page 369 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now sit you downe," his ladye sayd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"O sit you downe to meat;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into some nunnery she is gone;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your daughter deare forget."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then solemnlye he made a vowe<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before the companie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he would neither eat nor drinke,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Until he did her see.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O then bespake the scullion-boye.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With a loud voice so hye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"If now you will your daughter see,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My lord, cut up that pye:<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Wherein her fleshe is minced small,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And parched with the fire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All caused by her step-mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who did her death desire.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And cursed bee the master-cook,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">O cursed may he bee!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I proffered him my own heart's blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From death to set her free."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then all in blacke this lord did mourne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And for his daughters sake,<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He judged her cruell step-mother<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To be burnt at a stake.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Likewise he judg'd the master-cook<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In boiling lead to stand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And made the simple scullion-boye<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The heire of all his land.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 370 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_CRUEL_BLACK" id="THE_CRUEL_BLACK"></a>THE CRUEL BLACK.</h3> + + +<p><i>A Collection of Old Ballads</i>, (1723,) ii. 152: also +Evans's <i>Old Ballads</i>, iii. 232. Entered in the Stationers' +<i>Registers, 1569-70</i>. A writer in the <i>British Bibliographer</i>, +(iv. 182,) has pointed out that this is only +one of Bandello's novels versified. The novel is the +21st of the Third Part, (London, 1792.)</p> + +<p><i>A lamentable Ballad of the tragical End of a gallant +Lord and virtuous Lady; together with the untimely +Death of their two Children: wickedly performed by a +Heathenish and Blood-thirsty Black-a-moor, their Servant; +the like of which Cruelty and Murder was never +before heard of.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In Rome a nobleman did wed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A virgin of great fame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fairer creature never did<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dame Nature ever frame:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By whom he had two children fair,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whose beauty did excel;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They were their parents only joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They lov'd them both so well.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The lord he lov'd to hunt the buck,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 371 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span><span class="i2">The tiger, and the boar;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still for swiftness always took<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With him a black-a-moor:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which black-a-moor within the wood<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His lord he did offend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For which he did him then correct,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">In hopes he would amend.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The day it grew unto an end;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then homewards he did haste,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where with his lady he did rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Until the night was past.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then in the morning he did rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And did his servants call;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hunting he provides to go:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Straight they were ready all<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To cause the toyl the lady did<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Intreat him not to go:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Alas, good lady," then quoth he,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Why art thou grieved so?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Content thyself, I will return<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With speed to thee again."<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Good father," quoth the little babes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"With us here still remain."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Farewel, dear children, I will go<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A fine thing for to buy;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But they, therewith nothing content,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Aloud began to cry.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mother takes them by the hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Saying, "Come, go with me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unto the highest tower, where<br /></span> +<!-- Page 372 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span><span class="i2">Your father you shall see."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The black-a-moor, perceiving now,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who then did stay behind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His lord to be a hunting gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Began to call to mind:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My master he did me correct,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">My fault not being great;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now of his wife I'll be reveng'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She shall not me intreat."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The place was moated round about;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The bridge he up did draw;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gates he bolted very fast;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of none he stood in awe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He up into the tower went,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The lady being there;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, when she saw his countenance grim,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">She straight began to fear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But now my trembling heart it quakes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To think what I must write;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My senses all begin to fail,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My soul it doth affright.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet must I make an end of this<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which here I have begun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which will make sad the hardest heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before that I have done.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This wretch unto the lady went,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And her with speed did will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His lust forthwith to satisfy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His mind for to fulfil.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lady she amazed was,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 373 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span><span class="i2">To hear the villain speak;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Alas," quoth she, "what shall I do?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With grief my heart will break."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With that he took her in his arms;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She straight for help did cry;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Content yourself, lady," he said,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Your husband is not nigh:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bridge is drawn, the gates are shut,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Therefore come lie with me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or else I do protest and vow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy butcher I will be."<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The crystal tears ran down her face,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her children cried amain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sought to help their mother dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But all it was in vain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For that egregious filthy rogue<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her hands behind her bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then perforce with all his might,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He threw her on the ground.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With that she shriek'd, her children cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And such a noise did make,<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That town-folks, hearing her laments,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Did seek their parts to take:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But all in vain; no way was found<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To help the lady's need,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who cried to them most piteously,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"O help! O help with speed!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some run into the forest wide,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her lord home for to call;<!-- Page 374 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they that stood still did lament<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This gallant lady's fall.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With speed her lord came posting home;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He could not enter in;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His lady's cries did pierce his heart;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To call he did begin:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O hold thy hand, thou savage moor,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To hurt her do forbear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or else be sure, if I do live,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wild horses shall thee tear."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With that the rogue ran to the wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He having had his will,<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And brought one child under his arm,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His dearest blood to spill.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The child, seeing his father there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To him for help did call:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O father! help my mother dear,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">We shall be killed all."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then fell the lord upon his knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And did the moor intreat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To save the life of this poor child,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whose fear was then so great.<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But this vile wretch the little child<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By both the heels did take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dash'd his brains against the wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whilst parent's hearts did ake:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That being done, straightway he ran<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The other child to fetch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pluck'd it from the mother's breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Most like a cruel wretch.<!-- Page 375 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Within one hand a knife he brought,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The child within the other;<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And holding it over the wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Saying, "Thus shall die thy mother,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With that he cut the throat of it;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then to the father he did call,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To look how he the head did cut,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And down the head did fall.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This done, he threw it down the wall<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Into the moat so deep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which made the father wring his hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And grievously to weep.<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then to the lady went this rogue,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who was near dead with fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet this vile wretch most cruelly<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Did drag her by the hair;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And drew her to the very wall,<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which when her lord did see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then presently he cried out,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fell upon his knee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quoth he, "If thou wilt save her life,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whom I do love so dear,<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will forgive thee all is past,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Though they concern me near.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O save her life, I thee beseech;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O save her, I thee pray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I will grant thee what thou wilt<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Demand of me this day."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Well," quoth the moor, "I do regard<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The moan that thou dost make:<!-- Page 376 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thou wilt grant me what I ask,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll save her for thy sake."<span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O save her life, and then demand<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of me what thing thou wilt."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Cut off thy nose, and not one drop<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of her blood shall be spilt."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With that the lord presently took<span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A knife within his hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then his nose he quite cut off,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In place where he did stand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now I have bought my lady's life,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He to the moor did call;<span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Then take her," quoth this wicked rogue,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And down he let her fall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which when her gallant lord did see,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His senses all did fail;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet many sought to save his life,<span class="linenum">175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But nothing could prevail.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When as the moor did see him dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then did he laugh amain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At them who for their gallant lord<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lady did complain:<span class="linenum">180</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quoth he, "I know you'll torture me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If that you can me get,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But all your threats I do not fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor yet regard one whit.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Wild horses shall my body tear,<span class="linenum">185</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I know it to be true,<!-- Page 377 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I prevent you of that pain:"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And down himself he threw.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Too good a death for such a wretch,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A villain void of fear!<span class="linenum">190</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thus doth end as sad a tale<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As ever man did hear.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 378 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="BOOK_IV_b" id="BOOK_IV_b"></a>BOOK IV.</h2> + + + +<hr /> +<h3><a name="KING_MALCOLM_AND_SIR_COLVIN_See" id="KING_MALCOLM_AND_SIR_COLVIN_See"></a>KING MALCOLM AND SIR COLVIN.<br /> +See p. <a href="#Page_173">173</a>.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Buchan's <i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i>, ii. 6.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There ance liv'd a king in fair Scotland,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">King Malcolm called by name;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom ancient history gives record,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For valour, worth, and fame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And it fell ance upon a day,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The king sat down to dine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then he miss'd a favourite knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whose name was Sir Colvin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But out it speaks another knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ane o' Sir Colvin's kin;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He's lyin' in bed, right sick in love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All for your daughter Jean."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O waes me," said the royal king,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I'm sorry for the same;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She maun take bread and wine sae red,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Give it to Sir Colvin."<!-- Page 379 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then gently did she bear the bread,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her page did carry the wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And set a table at his bed;—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Sir Colvin, rise and dine."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O well love I the wine, lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come frae your lovely hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But better love I your fair body,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than all fair Scotland's strand."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O hold your tongue now, Sir Colvin,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let all your folly be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My love must be by honour won,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or nane shall enjoy me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But on the head o' Elrick's hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Near by yon sharp hawthorn,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where never a man with life e'er came,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sin our sweet Christ was born;—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O ye'll gang there and walk a' night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And boldly blaw your horn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With honour that ye do return,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye'll marry me the morn."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up it raise him, Sir Colvin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dress'd in armour keen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he is on to Elrick's hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Without light of the meen.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At midnight mark the meen upstarts;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The knight walk'd up and down;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While loudest cracks o' thunder roar'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Out ower the bent sae brown.<!-- Page 380 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then by the twinkling of an e'e<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He spied an armed knight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fair lady bearing his brand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' torches burning bright.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then he cried high, as he came nigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Coward, thief, I bid you flee!<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is not ane comes to this hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But must engage wi' me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll best take road before I come,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And best take foot and flee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here is a sword baith sharp and broad,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will quarter you in three."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sir Colvin said, "I'm not afraid<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of any here I see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You hae not ta'en your God before;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Less dread hae I o' thee."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sir Colvin then he drew his sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His foe he drew his brand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they fought there on Elrick's hill<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till they were bluidy men.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The first an' stroke the knight he strake,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gae Colvin a slight wound;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The next an' stroke Lord Colvin strake,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Brought's foe unto the ground.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I yield, I yield," the knight he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I fairly yield to thee;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nae ane came e'er to Elrick-hill<br /></span> +<span class="i2">E'er gain'd such victorie.<!-- Page 381 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I and my forbears here did haunt<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Three hundred years and more;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm safe to swear a solemn oath,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">We were never beat before."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"An asking," said the lady gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"An asking ye'll grant me:"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ask on, ask on," said Sir Colvin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"What may your asking be?"<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll gie me hame my wounded knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let me fare on my way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'se ne'er be seen on Elrick's hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By night, nor yet by day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to this place we'll come nae mair,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cou'd we win safe away;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"To trouble any Christian one<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lives in the righteous law,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We'll come nae mair unto this place,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cou'd we win safe awa'."<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O ye'se get hame your wounded knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye shall not gang alane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I maun hae a wad o' him,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before that we twa twine."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sir Colvin being a book-learn'd man,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae gude in fencing tee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's drawn a stroke behind his hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And followed in speedilie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sae fierce a stroke Sir Colvin's drawn,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 382 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span><span class="i2">And followed in speedilie,<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The knight's brand and sword hand<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the air he gar'd them flee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It flew sae high into the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lighted on the ground;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rings that were on these fingers<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Were worth five hundred pound.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up he has ta'en that bluidy hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Set it before the king;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the morn it was Wednesday,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When he married his daughter Jean.<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 383 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="SKIOEN_ANNA_FAIR_ANNIE_See_p_191" id="SKIOEN_ANNA_FAIR_ANNIE_See_p_191"></a>SKIŒN ANNA; FAIR ANNIE, See p. <a href="#Page_191">191</a>.</h3> + + +<p>Translated in Jamieson's <i>Popular Ballads</i>, ii. +103, from Syv's <i>Kjœmpe Viser</i>. See another copy in +Nyerup's <i>Danske Viser</i>, iv. 59.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The reivers they wad a stealing gang,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To steal sae far frae hame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stown ha'e they the king's daughter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fair Annie hight by name.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They've carried her into fremmit lands,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To a duke's son of high degree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he has gie'n for Fair Annie<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mickle goud and white money.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And eight lang years o' love sae leal<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Had past atween them twae;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now a bonny bairntime<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O' seven fair sons had they.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That lord he was of Meckelborg land,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of princely blood and stemme;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for his worth and curtesy<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That lord a king became.<!-- Page 384 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But little wist that noble king,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As little his barons bald,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That it was the king of England's daughter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Had sae to him been sald!<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And eight lang years sae past and gane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fair Annie now may rue;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For now she weets in fremmit lands<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Anither bride he'll wooe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair Annie's till his mither gane;<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fell low down on her knee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"A boon, a boon, now lady mither,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye grant your oys and me!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If ever ye kist, if ever ye blest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bade them thrive and thee,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O save them now frae scaith and scorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O save your oys and me!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Their father's pride may yet relent;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His mither's rede he'll hear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor for anither break the heart<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ance to him was dear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He had my love and maiden pride;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I had nae mair to gi'e;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He well may fa' a brighter bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But nane that lo'es like me."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A brighter bride he ne'er can fa';<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A richer well he may;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But daughter dearer nor Fair Annie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His mither ne'er can ha'e."<!-- Page 385 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That princess stood her son before:<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"My lord the king," said she,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Fy on the lawless life ye lead,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dishonour'd as ye be!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Its Annie's gude, and Annie's fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dearly she lo'es thee;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the brightest gems in a' your crown<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your seven fair sons wad be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Her love, her life, her maiden fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' you she shar'd them a';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now share wi' her your bridal bed;<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her due she well may fa'."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"To my bridal bed, my mither dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fair Annie ne'er can win;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I coft her out of fremmit lands,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor ken her kith or kin."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he's gard write a braid letter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His wedding to ordein;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to betrothe anither bride<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To be his noble queen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair Annie up at her bower window<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Heard a' that knight did say:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O God, my heavenly Father! gif<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My heart mat brast in twae!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair Annie stood at her bower window,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And heard that knight sae bald:<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O God, my heavenly Father! gif<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I mat my dearest hald!"<!-- Page 386 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That lord is to Fair Annie gane:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says, "Annie, thou winsome may,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O whatten a gude gift will ye gi'e<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">My bride on her bridal day?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'll gi'e her a gift, and a very gude gift,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a dear-bought gift to me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'll gi'e her my seven fair sons,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her pages for to be."<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O that is a gift, but nae gude gift,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Frae thee, Fair Annie, I ween;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ye maun gi'e some richer gift<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Befitting a noble queen."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'll gi'e her a gift, and a dear, dear gift,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a gift I brook wi' care;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'll gi'e her my dearest life,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That I dow brook nae mair."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O that is a gift, but a dowie gift,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Now, Annie, thou winsome may;<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye maun gi'e her your best goud girdle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her gude will for to ha'e."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oh na, that girdle she ne'er shall fa';<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That I can never bear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The luckless morn I gave you a',<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye gae me that girdle to wear."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That lord before his bride gan stand:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"My noble bride and queen!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O whatten a gift to my lemman Annie<br /></span> +<!-- Page 387 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</a></span><span class="i2">Will now by you be gi'en?"<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'll gi'e her a gift, and a very gude gift,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My lord the king," said she;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"For I'll gi'e her my auld shoe to wear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Best fitting her base degree."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O that is a gift, but nae gude gift,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">My noble bride and queen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ye maun gi'e her anither gift,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If you'll my favour win."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then I'll gi'e her a very gude gift,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My lord the king," said she;<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I'll gie her my millers seven, that lig<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae far ayont the sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Well are they fed, well are they clad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And live in heal and weal;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And well they ken to measure out<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The wheat, but and caneel."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair Annie says, "My noble lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This boon ye grant to me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let me gang up to the bridal bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your young bride for to see."<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O gangna, Annie, gangna, there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor come that bower within;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye maunna come near that bridal bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wad ye my favour win."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair Annie is till his mither gane:<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"O lady mither," said she,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"May I gang to the bridal bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My lord's new bride to see?"<!-- Page 388 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[Pg 388]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"That well ye may," his mither said;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But see that ye're buskit bra',<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And clad ye in your best cleading,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' your bower maidens a'."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair Annie she's gaen to the bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' heart fu' sair and sad;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wi' a' her seven sons her before,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the red scarlet clad.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair Annie's taen a silver can,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Afore the bride to skink;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And down her cheeks the tears ay run,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon hersell to think.<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The bride gan stand her lord before:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Now speak, and dinna spare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whare is this fair young lady frae?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whareto greets she sae sair?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O hear ye now, dear lady mine,<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The truth I tell to thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is but a bonny niece of mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That is come o'er the sea."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O wae is me, my lord," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"To hear you say sic wrang;<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">It can be nane but your auld lemman;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">God rede whare she will gang!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then till her sorrow, and till her wae,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll tell the truth to thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For she was sald frae fremmit lands,<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For mickle goud to me.<!-- Page 389 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[Pg 389]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Her bairntime a' stand her before,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her seven young sons sae fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they maun now your pages be,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That maks her heart sae sair."<span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A little sister ance I had,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A sister that hight Ann;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By reivers she was stown awa',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sald in fremmit land.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"She was a bairn when she was stown,<span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet in her tender years;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sair her parents mourn'd for her,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' mony sighs and tears.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Art thou fair Annie, sister mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thou noble violet flower?<span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her mither never smil'd again<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Frae Annie left her bower!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O thou art she! a sister's heart<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wants nane that tale to tell!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there he is, thy ain true lord;<span class="linenum">175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">God spare ye lang and well!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And gladness through the palace spread,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' mickle game and glee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And blythe were a' for fair Annie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her bridal day to see.<span class="linenum">180</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now untill her father's land<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This young bride she is gane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And her sister Annie's youngest son<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She hame wi' her has ta'en.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 390 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[Pg 390]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LADY_MARGARET_See_p_205" id="LADY_MARGARET_See_p_205"></a>LADY MARGARET. See p. <a href="#Page_205">205</a>.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Kinloch's <i>Ancient Scottish Ballads</i>, p. 180.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The corn is turning ripe, Lord John,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The nuts are growing fu',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ye are bound for your ain countrie;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fain wad I go wi' you."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Wi me, Marg'ret, wi me, Marg'ret,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">What wad ye do wi' me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've mair need o' a pretty little boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To wait upon my steed."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It's I will be your pretty little boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To wait upon your steed;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ilka town that we come to,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A pack of hounds I'll lead."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My hounds will eat o' the bread o' wheat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ye of the bread of bran:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then you will sit and sigh,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That e'er ye loed a man."<!-- Page 391 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[Pg 391]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The first water that they cam to,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I think they call it Clyde,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He saftly unto her did say,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Lady Marg'ret, will ye ride?"<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The first step that she steppit in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She steppit to the knee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says, "Wae be to ye, waefu' water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For through ye I maun be."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The second step that she steppit in,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">She steppit to the middle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sigh'd, and said, Lady Margaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I've stain'd my gowden girdle."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The third step that she steppit in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She steppit to the neck;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pretty babe within her sides,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The cauld it garr'd it squake.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lie still my babe, lie still my babe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lie still as lang's ye may,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For your father rides on horseback high,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cares little for us twae."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It's whan she cam to the other side,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She sat doun on a stane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says, "Them that made me, help me now,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For I am far frae hame.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"How far is it frae your mither's bouer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gude Lord John tell to me?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It's therty miles, Lady Margaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's therty miles and three:<!-- Page 392 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[Pg 392]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ye'se be wed to ane o' her serving men,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For ye'se get na mair o' me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up bespak the wylie parrot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As it sat on the tree;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ye lee, ye lee, Lord John," it said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Sae loud as I hear ye lee.<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye say it's thirty miles frae your mither's bouer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whan it's but barely three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she'll ne'er be wed to a serving man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For she'll be your ain ladie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Monie a lord and fair ladie<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Met Lord John in the closs,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But the bonniest face amang them a',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was hauding Lord John's horse.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Monie a lord and gay ladie<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sat dining in the ha',<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the bonniest face that was there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was waiting on them a'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O up bespak Lord John's sister,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A sweet young maid was she:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My brither has brought a bonnie young page,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">His like I ne'er did see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the red flits fast frae his cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the tear stands in his ee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But up bespak Lord John's mither,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 393 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[Pg 393]</a></span><span class="i2">She spak wi' meikle scorn:<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He's liker a woman gret wi' bairn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than onie waiting-man."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It's ye'll rise up, my bonnie boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And gie my steed the hay:"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O that I will, my dear master,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As fast as I can gae."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She took the hay aneath her arm,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The corn intil her hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But atween the stable door and the staw,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lady Marg'ret made a stand.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"O open the door, Lady Margaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O open and let me in;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I want to see if my steed be fed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or my grey hounds fit to rin."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'll na open the door, Lord John," she said,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I'll na open it to thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till ye grant to me my ae request,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a puir ane it's to me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll gie to me a bed in an outhouse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For my young son and me,<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the meanest servant in a' the place,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To wait on him and me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I grant, I grant, Lady Marg'ret," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"A' that, and mair frae me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The very best bed in a' the place<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To your young son and thee:<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my mither, and my sister dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To wait on him and thee.<!-- Page 394 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[Pg 394]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And a' thae lands, and a' thae rents,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They sall be his and thine;<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our wedding and our kirking day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They sall be all in ane."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he has tane Lady Margaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And row'd her in the silk;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he has tane his ain young son,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And wash'd him in the milk.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 395 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="EARL_RICHARD_B_See_p_260" id="EARL_RICHARD_B_See_p_260"></a>EARL RICHARD (B). See p. 260.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Kinloch's <i>Ancient Scottish Ballads</i>, p. 15.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There was a shepherd's dochter<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Kept sheep on yonder hill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bye cam a knicht frae the king's court,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he wad hae his will.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whan he had got his wills o' her,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">His will as he has tane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Wad ye be sae gude and kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As tell to me your name?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Some ca's me Jock, some ca's me John,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Some disna ken my name;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But whan I'm in the king's court,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mitchcock is my name."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Mitchcock! hey!" the lady did say,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And spelt it oure again;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"If that's your name in the Latin tongue,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Earl Richard is your name!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O jumpt he upon his horse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And said he wad gae ride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kilted she her green claithing,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 396 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</a></span><span class="i2">And said she wad na bide.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he was never sae discreet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As bid her loup on and ride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she was ne'er sae meanly bred,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As for to bid him bide.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And whan they cam to yon water,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">It was running like a flude;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I've learnt it in my mither's bouer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I've learnt it for my gude,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I can soum this wan water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like a fish in a flude.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I've learnt it in my father's bouer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ive learnt it for my better,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I will soum this wan water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As tho' I was ane otter."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Jump on behind, ye weill-faur'd may,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or do ye chuse to ride?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"No, thank ye, sir," the lady said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I wad rather chuse to wyde;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And afore that he was 'mid-water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She was at the ither side.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Turn back, turn back, ye weill-faur'd may,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My heart will brak in three;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And sae did mine, on yon bonnie hill-side,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whan ye wad na let me be."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Whare gat ye that gay claithing,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">This day I see on thee?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My mither was a gude milk-nurse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a gude nourice was she,<!-- Page 397 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[Pg 397]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">She nurs'd the Earl o' Stockford's ae dochter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And gat a' this to me."<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whan she cam to the king's court,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She rappit wi' a ring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sae ready was the king himsel'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To lat the lady in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gude day, gude day, my liege the king,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gude day, gude day, to thee;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Gude day," quo' he, "my lady fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What is't ye want wi' me?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There is a knicht into your court,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This day has robbed me;"<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O has he tane your gowd," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Or has he tane your fee?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He has na tane my gowd," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Nor yet has he my fee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he has tane my maiden-head,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The flow'r o' my bodie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O gin he be a single man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His body I'll gie thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But gin he be a married man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll hang him on a tree."<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out bespak the queen hersel',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wha sat by the king's knee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"There's na a knicht in a' our court<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wad hae dune that to thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unless it war my brither, Earl Richard,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And forbid it, it war he!"<!-- Page 398 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[Pg 398]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Wad ye ken your fause love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Amang a hundred men?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I wad," said the bonnie ladie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Amang five hundred and ten."<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The king made a' his merry men pass,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By ane, by twa, and three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earl Richard us'd to be the first man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But was hindmost man that day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He cam hauping on ae foot,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And winking wi' ae ee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ha! ha!" cried the bonnie ladie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That same young man are ye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He has pou'd out a hundred pounds,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Weel lockit in a glove;<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Gin ye be a courteous may,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye'll chose anither love."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What care I for your hundred pounds?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nae mair than ye wad for mine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What's a hundred pounds to me,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To a marriage wi' a king!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'll hae nane o' your gowd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor either o' your fee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I will hae your ain bodie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The king has grantit me."<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O was ye gentle gotten, maid?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or was ye gentle born?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or hae ye onie gerss growin'?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or hae ye onie corn?<!-- Page 399 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[Pg 399]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Or hae ye onie lands or rents<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lying at libertie?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or hae ye onie education,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To dance alang wi' me?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I was na gentle gotten, madam,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor was I gentle born;<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Neither hae I gerss growin',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor hae I onie corn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I hae na onie lands or rents,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lying at libertie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor hae I onie education,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To dance along wi' thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whan the marriage it was oure,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ilk ane took their horse,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It never sat a beggar's brat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At na knicht's back to be."<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He lap on ae milk-white steed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she lap on anither,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And syne the twa rade out the way<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like sister and like brither.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The ladie met wi' a beggar-wife,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And gied her half o' crown—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Tell a' your neebours whan ye gae hame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That Earl Richard's your gude-son."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O haud your tongue, ye beggar's brat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My heart will brak in three;"<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And sae did mine on yon bonnie hill-side,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whan ye wad na lat me be."<!-- Page 400 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[Pg 400]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whan she cam to yon nettle-dyke—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"An my auld mither was here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sae weill as she wad ye pou;<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">She wad boil ye weill, and butter ye weill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sup till she war fou,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Syne laye her head upo' her dish doup,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sleep like onie sow."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And whan she cam to Tyne's water,<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">She wylilie did say—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Fareweil, ye mills o' Tyne's water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With thee I bid gude-day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Fareweil, ye mills o' Tyne's water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To you I bid gude-een;<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whare monie a time I've fill'd my pock,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At mid-day and at een."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hoch! had I drank the well-water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whan first I drank the wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never a mill-capon<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wad hae been a love o' mine."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whan she cam to Earl Richard's house,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The sheets war Hollan' fine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O haud awa thae linen sheets,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bring to me the linsey clouts,<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hae been best used in."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O haud your tongue, ye beggar's brat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My heart will brak in three;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And sae did mine on yon bonnie hill-side,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 401 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[Pg 401]</a></span><span class="i2">Whan ye wadna lat me be."<span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I wish I had drank the well-water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whan first I drank the beer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ever a shepherd's dochter<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shou'd hae been my only dear!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll turn about, Earl Richard,<span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And mak some mair o' me:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An ye mak me lady o' ae puir plow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I can mak you laird o' three."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If ye be the Earl o' Stockford's dochter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I've some thouchts ye be,<span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aft hae I waited at your father's yett,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But your face I ne'er could see."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whan they cam to her father's yett,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She tirled on the pin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And an auld belly-blind man was sittin' there,<span class="linenum">175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As they were entering in:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The meetest marriage," the belly-blind did cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Atween the ane and the ither;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Atween the Earl o' Stockford's ae dochter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the Queen o' England's brither."<span class="linenum">180</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 403 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[Pg 403]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="GLOSSARY" id="GLOSSARY"></a>GLOSSARY.</h2> + +<p class="center"><a title="right pointing hand">☞</a> Figures placed after words denote the pages in which +they occur.</p> + + +<ul> +<li>aboon, aboun, abune, <i>above</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1"><a href="#Page_151">151</a>, above the surface of the water.</li> + +<li>ackward stroke, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>, <i>cross or back stroke</i>.</li> + +<li>acton, <i>a leather jacket worn under a coat of mail</i>.</li> + +<li>ae, <i>only</i>.</li> + +<li>airts, <i>quarters</i>, <i>points of the compass</i>.</li> + +<li>an, <i>one</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1">an ae, <i>one single</i>.</li> + +<li>aneath, <i>beneath</i>.</li> + +<li>anes, <i>once</i>.</li> + +<li>asking, <i>boon</i>.</li> + +<li>aughts, <i>owns</i>.</li> + +<li>aukeward stroke, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <i>cross or back stroke</i>.</li> + +<li>auld son, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>. "<i>Young Son</i> and <i>Auld Son</i> are phrases used only to denote the comparative ages of children. The <i>young son</i> is perhaps the child now in the nurse's arms;</li> + <li class="indent1">the <i>auld son</i>, he who has just begun to walk without leading-strings."—<i>Chambers.</i></li> + +<li>ava, <i>of all</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1"><a href="#Page_287">287</a>, <i>at all</i>.</li> + +<li>avowe, <i>vow</i>.</li> + +<li>ayont, <i>beyond</i>.</li> +</ul> + +<ul> +<li>baffled, <i>disgraced</i>.</li> + +<li>bairntime, <i>brood of children</i>.</li> + +<li>bale-fire, <i>bonfire</i>.</li> + +<li>band, <i>agreement</i>.</li> + +<li>bane-fire, <i>bonfire</i>.</li> + +<li>bedeene, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <i>immediately?</i> <i>continuously?</i></li> + +<li>bedight, <i>furnished</i>.</li> + +<li>beforne, <i>before</i>.</li> + +<li>belive, <i>soon</i>.</li> + +<li>belly blind, <a href="#Page_365">365</a>, <i>stone blind</i>.</li> + +<li>ben, <i>in</i>.</li> + +<li>bent, <i>a field where the coarse grass so named grows</i>.</li> + +<li>big, <i>build</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1">biggit, <i>built</i>.</li> + +<li>bigly, <i>spacious</i>, <i>commodious</i>.</li> + +<li>billie, <i>comrade</i>, <i>brother</i>, <i>a term of affection</i>.</li> + +<li><!-- Page 404 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[Pg 404]</a></span>binna, <i>be not</i>.<br /></li> + +<li>birk, <i>birch</i>.</li> + +<li>birl, <i>drink</i>, <i>pour out drink</i>, <i>ply with drink</i>.</li> + +<li>blanne, <i>stopped</i>.</li> + +<li>blee, <i>complexion</i>.</li> + +<li>bleid, <i>blood</i>.</li> + +<li>blint, <i>blinded</i>.</li> + +<li>bookin, bo'kin, <i>bodkin</i>, <i>small dagger</i>.</li> + +<li>bookesman, <i>clerk</i>, <i>secretary</i>.</li> + +<li>bore, <i>crevice</i>, <i>hole</i>.</li> + +<li>borrow, <i>ransom</i>.</li> + +<li>bouer, <i>chamber</i>.</li> + +<li>boun, <a href="#Page_334">334</a>, <i>go</i>.</li> + +<li>boun, <i>ready</i>.</li> + +<li>bountith, <i>bounties</i>.</li> + +<li>boustouslie, <i>threateningly</i>.</li> + +<li>bout, <i>bolt</i>.</li> + +<li>bow, <i>bole</i>, <i>two bushels</i>.</li> + +<li>bower, <i>chamber</i>.</li> + +<li>bowne, <i>ready</i>.</li> + +<li>brae, <i>hill-side</i>.</li> + +<li>bragged, <i>defied</i>.</li> + +<li>braid letter, <i>an open letter</i>, <i>or</i> <i>letter patent</i>.</li> + +<li>brash, <i>sickness</i>.</li> + +<li>brast, <i>burst</i>.</li> + +<li>braw, <i>brave</i>, <i>handsome</i>.</li> + +<li>breast, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <i>make a horse spring up or forward</i>?</li> + +<li>brechan, <i>tartan</i>, <i>plaid</i>.</li> + +<li>brenne, <i>burn</i>.</li> + +<li>bricht, <i>bright</i>.</li> + +<li>brodinge, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>, <i>pricking</i>.</li> + +<li>bully, <i>see</i> billie.</li> + +<li>burd, <i>lady</i>.</li> + +<li>busk, <i>dress</i>, <i>make ready</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1"> busk on, <i>put on for dress</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1"> buskit, <i>dressed</i>.</li> + +<li>but and, <i>and also</i>.</li> +</ul> + +<ul> +<li>can, <i>used as an auxiliary with the infinitive mood</i>, <i>to form an imperfect tense</i>.</li> + +<li>caneel, <i>cinnamon</i>.</li> + +<li>cannie, <i>handily</i>, <i>gently</i>.</li> + +<li>caps, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>, <i>bowls</i>.</li> + +<li>carle, <i>churl</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1">carline, <i>feminine of churl</i>, <i>old woman</i>.</li> + +<li>carlish, <i>churlish</i>.</li> + +<li>châmer, <i>chamber</i>.</li> + +<li>chapp'd, <i>rap</i>, <i>tapped</i>.</li> + +<li>cheer, <i>countenance</i>.</li> + +<li>cheer, <i>entertainment</i>.</li> + +<li>chive, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>, <i>mouthfull</i>?</li> + +<li>cleiding, <i>clothing</i>.</li> + +<li>close, <i>enclosure</i>.</li> + +<li>coble, <i>boat</i>.</li> + +<li>coffer, <i>coif</i>, <i>head-dress</i>, <i>cap</i>?</li> + +<li>coft, <i>bought</i>.</li> + +<li>corbies, <i>ravens</i>.</li> + +<li>cosh, <i>quiet</i>.</li> + +<li>counsayl, <i>secret</i>.</li> + +<li>craps, <i>tops</i>.</li> + +<li>cryance, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>, <i>apparently for recreance</i>, <i>cowardice</i>.</li> + +<li>cuist cavels, <i>cast lots</i>.</li> +</ul> + + +<ul><li>daigh, <i>dough</i>.</li> + +<li>darna, <i>dares not</i>.</li> + +<li>dawing, <i>dawn</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1">daws, <i>dawns</i>.</li> + +<li>decaye, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>, <i>destruction</i>.</li> + +<li>dee, <i>die</i>.</li> + +<li>deemed, <i>adjudged</i>.</li> + +<li>deid, <i>death</i>.</li> + +<li>den, <i>hollow</i>, <i>small valley</i>.</li> + +<li>descreeve, <i>impart</i>.</li> + +<li><!-- Page 405 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[Pg 405]</a></span>dight, <a href="#Page_174">174</a>, <i>prepared for</i>.<br /></li> + +<li>dill, <i>dole</i>, <i>grief</i>.</li> + +<li>dinge, <i>strike</i>.</li> + +<li>discreet, <i>civil</i>.</li> + +<li>disna, <i>does not</i>.</li> + +<li>dochter, <i>daughter</i>.</li> + +<li>dole, <i>grief</i>.</li> + +<li>doubte, <i>dread</i>.</li> + +<li>douk, <i>dive</i>.</li> + +<li>dounae, <i>cannot</i>.</li> + +<li>doup, <i>bottom</i>.</li> + +<li>dow, <i>can</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1">downa, <i>cannot</i>.</li> + +<li>dow, <i>dove</i>.</li> + +<li>dowie, <i>sad</i>.</li> + +<li>dree, drye, <i>bear</i>, <i>suffer</i>.</li> + +<li>dyne, <i>dinner</i>.</li> +</ul> + +<ul> +<li>eerie, <a href="#Page_273">273</a>, <i>dreary</i>, <i>cheerless</i>.</li> + +<li>eldern, <i>old</i>.</li> + +<li>Eldridge, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, (Elriche, Elrick, &c.,) <i>ghostly</i>, <i>spectral</i>:</li> + <li class="indent1"><a href="#Page_179">179</a>, hill <i>seems to be omitted</i>.</li> + +<li>even ower, <i>half over</i>.</li> +</ul> + +<ul> +<li>fa', <i>obtain as one's lot</i>.</li> + +<li>faem, <i>foam</i>.</li> + +<li>fail-dyke, <i>a wall built of sods</i>.</li> + +<li>faine, <i>glad</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1">fainly, <i>gladly</i>.</li> + +<li>farden, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <i>fared</i>, <i>appeared</i>.</li> + +<li>fare, <i>go</i>.</li> + +<li>fecht, <i>fight</i>.</li> + +<li>fee, <i>possessions</i>, <i>property</i>.</li> + +<li>feres, <i>comrades</i>.</li> + +<li>fey fowk, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <i>people doomed to die</i>.</li> + +<li>ficht, <i>fight</i>.</li> + +<li>fin, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>?</li> + +<li>fitt, <i>strain</i>.</li> + +<li>flatter'd, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>, <i>fluttered</i>, <i>floated</i>.</li> + +<li>forbears, <i>ancestors</i>.</li> + +<li>forbye, <i>beyond</i>, <i>near</i>.</li> + +<li>fou, <i>full</i>.</li> + +<li>frae, <a href="#Page_353">353</a>, <i>from the time</i>.</li> + +<li>free, <i>noble</i>.</li> + +<li>fremmit, <i>foreign</i>.</li> + +<li>fund, <i>found</i>.</li> +</ul> + +<ul> +<li>gae, <i>gave</i>.</li> + +<li>gae-through-land, <i>vagabond</i>.</li> + +<li>gane, <i>suffice</i>.</li> + +<li>gar, <i>cause</i>, <i>make</i>.</li> + +<li>gare, below her, <i>below the</i> [<i>gore in the edge of the</i>] <i>skirt</i>?</li> + +<li>gear, <i>goods</i>.</li> + +<li>gen, <i>against</i>.</li> + +<li>gerss, <i>grass</i>.</li> + +<li>gif, <i>if</i>.</li> + +<li>gin, <i>if</i>.</li> + +<li>gin, <i>trick</i>, <i>snare</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1"><a href="#Page_221">221</a>, <i>the device</i> (<i>necessary to open the door</i>).</li> + +<li>girds, <i>hoops</i>.</li> + +<li>glore, <i>glory</i>.</li> + +<li>God before, <i>God help me!</i></li> + +<li>good-brother, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <i>brother-in-law</i>.</li> + +<li>gorgett, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>, <i>a kerchief to cover the bosom</i>.</li> + +<li>graith, <i>caparisons</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1">graith'd, <i>caparisoned</i>.</li> + +<li>gramarye, <i>grammar</i>, <i>abstruse or magical learning</i>.</li> + +<li>grat, <i>cried</i>, <i>wept</i>.</li> + +<li>greeting, <i>weeping</i>, <i>crying</i>.</li> + +<li>gresse, <i>grass</i>.</li> + +<li>grew, <i>gray</i>.</li> + +<li>grype, <i>griffin</i>.</li> + +<li><!-- Page 406 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[Pg 406]</a></span>gude-mother, <i>mother-in-law</i>.</li> + +<li>gude-son, <i>son-in-law</i>.</li> + +<li>gurly, <i>troubled</i>, <i>stormy</i>.</li> +</ul> + +<ul> +<li>ha', <i>hall</i>.</li> + +<li>had, <i>hold</i>, <i>keep</i>.</li> + +<li>had, <i>taken</i>.</li> + +<li>hained, <i>enclosed</i>, <i>surrounded with a hedge</i>.</li> + +<li>half-fou, <i>half bushel</i>.</li> + +<li>hantle, <i>much</i>, <i>great deal</i>.</li> + +<li>happ'd, <i>covered</i>.</li> + +<li>hart-rote, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <i>a term of endearment</i>, <i>sweet-heart</i>.</li> + +<li>haud, <i>hold</i>.</li> + +<li>haugh, <i>low flat ground by a river-side</i>.</li> + +<li>hauping, <i>limping</i>.</li> + +<li>hause, <i>neck</i>.</li> + +<li>have owre, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>, <i>half over</i>.</li> + +<li>haw, <i>azure</i>.</li> + +<li>hawberke, <i>cuirass</i>, <i>coat of mail</i>.</li> + +<li>heading-hill, <i>beheading hill</i>.</li> + +<li>heal, <i>conceal</i>.</li> + +<li>heal, <i>health</i>.</li> + +<li>hech, <i>a forcible expiration of breath</i>, <i>as in striking a heavy blow</i>.</li> + +<li>heiding-hill, <i>the beheading hill</i>.</li> + +<li>hend, <i>gentle</i>.</li> + +<li>het, <i>hot</i>.</li> + +<li>hewberke, <i>cuirass</i>, <i>coat of mail</i>.</li> + +<li>hichts, <i>heights</i>.</li> + +<li>hight, <i>promised</i>.</li> + +<li>hind-chiel, <i>young stripling</i>.</li> + +<li>hinging, <i>hanging</i>.</li> + +<li>hollin, <i>holly</i>.</li> + +<li>hooly, <i>slowly</i>, <i>softly</i>.</li> + +<li>houl', <i>hold</i>.</li> + +<li>houms, <i>flat grounds near water</i>.</li> + +<li>houzle, <i>give the sacrament</i>.</li> +</ul> + +<ul> +<li>ilka, <i>each</i>.</li> + +<li>inbearing, <i>forth-putting</i>.</li> + +<li>iwis, iwysse, <i>certainly</i>, <i>truly</i>.</li> +</ul> + +<ul> +<li>jack, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <i>a coat of mail</i>.</li> + +<li>jagged, <i>pierced</i>.</li> + +<li>jess, <i>a leather strap for a hawk's leg, by which it was fastened to the leash</i>.</li> + +<li>jooked, <i>bowed</i>, <i>made obeisance</i>.</li> +</ul> + +<ul> +<li>kail, <i>broth</i>.</li> + +<li>kame, <i>comb</i>.</li> + +<li>keckle-pin, <a href="#Page_300">300</a>, should be heckle-pin, <i>the tooth of a heckle or flax-comb</i>.</li> + +<li>kell, <i>a dress of net-work for a woman's head</i>.</li> + +<li>kempes, <i>soldiers</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1">kemperye man, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>, <i>soldier-man</i>.</li> + +<li>kepped, keppit, <i>intercepted received when falling</i>.</li> + +<li>kevils, <i>lots</i>.</li> + +<li>kiest, <i>cast</i>.</li> + +<li>kilted, <i>tucked up</i>.</li> + +<li>kipples, <i>rafters</i>.</li> + +<li>kirkin, <i>churching</i>.</li> + +<li>kirk-shot, <i>see</i> shot.</li> + +<li>knet, <i>knitted</i>.</li> + +<li>knicht, <i>knight</i>.</li> + +<li>knot, <a href="#Page_274">274</a>, <i>tie up</i>.</li> + +<li>knowe, <i>knoll</i>.</li> +</ul> + +<ul> +<li><!-- Page 407 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[Pg 407]</a></span>lack, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <i>loss</i>.</li> + +<li>laigh, <i>low</i>.</li> + +<li>lake, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <i>hollow place</i>, <i>grave</i>?</li> + +<li>lamer, <i>amber</i>.</li> + +<li>lane, your lane, &c., <i>alone</i>.</li> + +<li>lap, <i>leapt</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1"><a href="#Page_154">154</a>, <i>sprang</i>.</li> + +<li>lauch, <i>laugh</i>.</li> + +<li>lauchters, <i>laughters</i>.</li> + +<li>lave, <i>rest</i>.</li> + +<li>lawing, <i>reckoning</i>.</li> + +<li>laye, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>, <i>law</i>.</li> + +<li>lay gowd, <i>embroider in gold</i>.</li> + +<li>lay-land, <i>lea-land</i>, <i>unploughed</i>, <i>green sward</i>.</li> + +<li>leafu', <i>lawful</i>.</li> + +<li>leal, <i>loyal</i>, <i>true</i>.</li> + +<li>leech, <i>leash</i>.</li> + +<li>leesome, <i>pleasant</i>, <i>lovely</i>.</li> + +<li>lemin, <i>gleaming</i>.</li> + +<li>lere, <i>countenance</i>.</li> + +<li>lethal, <i>deadly</i>.</li> + +<li>licht, <i>light</i>.</li> + +<li>lieve, <i>dear</i>.</li> + +<li>lift, <i>air</i>.</li> + +<li>lift, <i>carry off</i>.</li> + +<li>lig, <i>lie</i>.</li> + +<li>lighter, <i>delivered</i>.</li> + +<li>limmer, <i>mean</i>, <i>scoundrel</i>, <i>wretch</i>.</li> + +<li>linkin', <i>riding briskly</i>.</li> + +<li>linn, <i>the pool beneath a cataract</i>.</li> + +<li>lither, <i>lazy</i>, <i>wicked</i>.</li> + +<li>lodlye, <i>loathly</i>.</li> + +<li>loon, <i>clown</i>, <i>rascal</i>, <i>low fellow</i>.</li> + +<li>loot, <i>let</i>.</li> + +<li>louted, <i>bowed</i>, <i>bent</i>.</li> +</ul> + +<ul> +<li>make, <i>mate</i>.</li> + +<li>mane, <i>moan</i>, <i>lament</i>.</li> + +<li>mannot, <i>may not</i>.</li> + +<li>maries, <i>maids</i>.</li> + +<li>mark, <i>murky</i>.</li> + +<li>marrow, <i>mate</i>, <i>husband</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1"><a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <i>antagonist</i>, <i>match</i>.</li> + +<li>mat, <i>might</i>.</li> + +<li>mavis, <i>thrush</i>.</li> + +<li>maw, <i>mew</i>.</li> + +<li>may, <i>maid</i>.</li> + +<li>meen, <i>moon</i>.</li> + +<li>mell, <a href="#Page_70">70</a>, <i>milt</i>, <i>spleen</i>.</li> + +<li>micht, <i>might</i>.</li> + +<li>mill-capon, <i>a poor person who asks charity at mills from those who have grain grinding</i>.</li> + +<li>millering, <a href="#Page_273">273</a>, <i>dust of the mill</i>.</li> + +<li>min', <i>mind</i>.</li> + +<li>min', minnie, <i>mother</i>, <i>love</i>, <i>dear</i>.</li> + +<li>minged, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>, <i>named</i>, <i>mentioned</i>.</li> + +<li>mintet, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>, <i>took the direction or course</i>.</li> + +<li>mirk, <i>dark</i>.</li> + +<li>monand, <i>moaning</i>.</li> + +<li>moodie hill, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <i>mole-hill</i>.</li> + +<li>morning-gift, <i>the gift made a wife by her husband, the morning after marriage</i>.</li> + +<li>mun, <i>must</i>.</li> +</ul> + +<ul> +<li>nee, <i>nigh</i>.</li> + +<li>nicked of naye, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>, <i>denied</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1">should be <i>with naye</i>.</li> + +<li>niest, <i>next</i>.</li> + +<li>nurice, <i>nurse</i>.</li> +</ul> + +<ul> +<li><!-- Page 408 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[Pg 408]</a></span>o'erword, <i>refrain</i>.</li> + +<li>ohon, <i>an exclamation of sorrow</i>, <i>alas</i>.</li> + +<li>onbethought, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <i>thought upon</i>.</li> + +<li>or, <i>before</i>.</li> + +<li>out o'hand, <i>at once</i>.</li> + +<li>owre, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>, <i>or</i>, <i>ere</i>.</li> + +<li>oys, <i>grandsons</i>.</li> +</ul> + +<ul> +<li>Pa, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>. Qy. <i>Is this a contraction of pall, and is pall, an alley or mall in which games of ball are played?</i></li> + +<li>pall, <i>a kind of rich cloth</i>.</li> + +<li>Pasche, <i>Easter</i>.</li> + +<li>pat, <i>put</i>.</li> + +<li>paughty, <i>insolent</i>.</li> + +<li>pearlings, <i>thread laces</i>.</li> + +<li>pict, <i>pitch</i>.</li> + +<li>pike, <i>pick</i>.</li> + +<li>pin, <i>summit</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1">gallows pin, <i>top of the gallows</i>?</li> + +<li>pine, <i>sorrow</i>.</li> + +<li>pitten, <i>put</i>.</li> + +<li>plat, <i>interwove</i>.</li> + +<li>play-feres, <i>play-fellows</i>.</li> + +<li>plight, <i>pledge</i>.</li> + +<li>plooky, <i>pimpled</i>.</li> + +<li>poin'd, <i>seized</i>.</li> + +<li>poke, <i>bag</i>.</li> + +<li>pot, <i>a deep place scooped in a rock or river-bed by the eddies</i>.</li> + +<li>pou, <i>pull</i>.</li> + +<li>prestlye, <i>quickly</i>.</li> + +<li>pricked, <i>rode smartly</i>.</li> + +<li>prime, <i>six o'clock</i>.</li> + +<li>prude, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <i>proud</i>?</li> + +<li>put down, putten down, <i>executed</i>, <i>killed</i>.</li> +</ul> + +<ul> +<li>quair, <i>choir</i>.</li> + +<li>quha, <i>who</i>.</li> + +<li>quick, <i>alive</i>.</li> +</ul> + +<ul> +<li>raw, <i>row</i>.</li> + +<li>reade, <i>advise</i>.</li> + +<li>reave, <i>deprive</i>.</li> + +<li>removde, <a href="#Page_174">174</a>, <i>stirred up</i>, <i>excited</i>.</li> + +<li>renish, renisht, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>?</li> + +<li>rievers, <i>marauders</i>, <i>robbers</i>.</li> + +<li>rigg, <i>ridge</i>.</li> + +<li>rive, <i>riven</i>.</li> + +<li>roode, <i>cross</i>.</li> + +<li>room, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>, <i>make room</i>.</li> + +<li>roudes, <i>haggard</i>.</li> + +<li>round tables, <i>a game much played in the 15th & 16th century</i>.</li> + +<li>row, <i>roll</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1">rowd, <i>rolled</i>.</li> +</ul> + +<ul> +<li>sackless, <i>guiltless</i>.</li> + +<li>sald, <i>sold</i>.</li> + +<li>sark, <i>shirt</i>, <i>shift</i>.</li> + +<li>sat, <i>fitted</i>.</li> + +<li>saye, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>, <i>essay</i>, <i>try</i>.</li> + +<li>scale, <i>scatter</i>, <i>disperse</i>.</li> + +<li>scath, <i>injury</i>.</li> + +<li>scoup, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <i>go or fly</i>.</li> + +<li>scuttle dishes, <a href="#Page_273">273</a>, <i>wooden platters</i>.</li> + +<li>sea-maw, <i>sea-mew</i>.</li> + +<li>see, (save and see,) <i>protect</i></li> + +<li>sell, <i>good</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1">sell gude, <i>right good</i>.</li> + +<li>sen, <a href="#Page_280">280</a>, <i>sent</i>.</li> + +<li>sen, <i>since</i>.</li> + +<li>send, <i>message</i>.</li> + +<li><!-- Page 409 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[Pg 409]</a></span>shanna, <i>shall not</i>.</li> + +<li>shaw'd, <i>showed</i>.</li> + +<li>sheen, <i>bright</i>.</li> + +<li>shent, <i>disgraced</i>, <i>injured</i>.</li> + +<li>shope, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <i>shaped</i>, <i>assumed</i>.</li> + +<li>shot, <i>plot of land</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1">also, <i>a place where fishermen let out their nets</i>.</li> + +<li>shot-window, <i>a projected</i>, <i>over-hanging window</i>.<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a></li> + +<li>sicker, sickerly, <i>sure</i>, <i>surely</i>.</li> + +<li>side, <i>long</i>.</li> + +<li>sindry, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>, <i>peculiar</i>.</li> + +<li>skeely, <i>skilful</i>.</li> + +<li>skink, <i>serve drink</i>.</li> + +<li>slode, <i>slid</i>, <i>split</i>.</li> + +<li>sloe, <i>slay</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1">slone, <i>slain</i>.</li> + +<li>smit, <i>a clashing noise</i>.</li> + +<li>soum, <i>swim</i>.</li> + +<li>spare, <i>the opening in a woman's gown</i>.</li> + +<li>spille, <i>destroy</i>, <i>perish</i></li> + +<li>sta', <i>stall</i>.</li> + +<li>staf, <i>stuff</i>.</li> + +<li>stark and stoor, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>, <i>strong</i>, <i>and big</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1">here we may say, <i>rough and rude</i>.</li> + +<li>staw, <i>stole</i>.</li> + +<li>steek, <i>stitch</i>, <i>thread</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1">steeking, <i>stitching</i>.</li> + +<li>steeked, <i>fastened</i>.</li> + +<li>step-minnie, <i>step-mother</i>.</li> + +<li>sterte, <i>started</i>.</li> + +<li>stickit, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <i>cut the throat</i>.</li> + +<li>stock, <i>the forepart of a bed</i>.</li> + +<li>stoups, <i>flagons</i>.</li> + +<li>stour, stower, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>, <i>fight</i>, <i>disturbance</i>.</li> + +<li>stown, <i>stolen</i>.</li> + +<li>streekit, <i>stretched</i>, <i>struck down</i>.</li> + +<li>stythe, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <i>sty</i>.</li> + +<li>suld, <i>should</i>.</li> + +<li>swaird, <i>sword</i>.</li> + +<li>sweven, <i>dream</i>.</li> + +<li>swith, <i>quickly</i>.</li> + +<li>syne, <i>then</i>, <i>afterwards</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1">ere syne, <i>before now</i>.</li> +</ul> + +<ul> +<li>tee, <i>too</i>.</li> + +<li>tein, <i>suffering</i>, <i>grief</i>.</li> + +<li>thae, <i>these</i>.</li> + +<li>theek, theekit, <i>thatch</i>, <i>thatched</i>.</li> + +<li>think lang, <i>feel weary</i>, <i>ennuyé</i>.</li> + +<li>thir, <i>these</i>.</li> + +<li>thocht lang, <i>grew weary</i>, <i>felt ennui</i>.</li> + +<li>thole, <i>endure</i>.</li> + +<li><!-- Page 410 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[Pg 410]</a></span>thorn, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>, (and thorn'd, ii. 335,) <i>refreshed with food</i>?</li> + +<li>thouch, <i>though</i>.</li> + +<li>thought lang, <i>grew weary</i>, <i>felt ennui</i>.</li> + +<li>thoust, <i>thou shouldst</i>.</li> + +<li>thraw, <i>twist</i>.</li> + +<li>till, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, <i>entice</i>.</li> + +<li>till, <i>to</i>.</li> + +<li>tine, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <i>lose</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1">tint, <i>lost</i>.</li> + +<li>tint, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_227">227</a>, <i>apparently misused by Percy</i>, for tine, <i>lose</i>.</li> + +<li>tippit, <i>lock (of hair)</i>.</li> + +<li>tirled at the pin, <i>trilled, or rattled, at the door-latch</i>.</li> + +<li>tolbooth, <i>prison</i>.</li> + +<li>tone, <i>the one</i>, (after the.)</li> + +<li>toom, <i>empty</i>.</li> + +<li>trattles, <i>prattles</i>, <i>tattles</i>.</li> + +<li>trysted, <i>made an appointment with</i>.</li> + +<li>twig, <i>twitch</i>.</li> + +<li>twine, <i>part</i>.</li> + +<li>tyne, <i>lose</i>.</li> +</ul> + +<ul> +<li>ugsome, <i>disgusting</i>, <i>loathsome</i>.</li> + +<li>unco, <i>strange</i>.</li> + +<li>unmacklye, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <i>unshapely</i>.</li> +</ul> + +<ul> +<li>wad, <i>wager</i>.</li> + +<li>wad, <i>would</i>.</li> + +<li>wae, <i>sad</i>.</li> + +<li>wake, <i>watch</i>.</li> + +<li>wale, <i>choose</i>.</li> + +<li>wallowed, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>, <i>withered</i>.</li> + +<li>waly, <i>alas</i>.</li> + +<li>wan, <i>dark</i>, <i>black</i>, <i>gloomy</i>.</li> + +<li>wand, <i>wicker</i>.</li> + +<li>wane, <a href="#Page_221">221</a>, <i>a number of people</i>.</li> + +<li>wantonly, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <i>nimbly</i>.</li> + +<li>wap, <i>wrap</i>.</li> + +<li>warlock, <i>wizard</i>.</li> + +<li>wat, <i>know</i>.</li> + +<li>wat, <i>wet</i>.</li> + +<li>wauked, <i>watched</i>.</li> + +<li>waur, <i>worse</i>.</li> + +<li>weary, <i>causing trouble</i>, <i>sad</i>.</li> + +<li>wed-bed, <i>marriage-bed</i>.</li> + +<li>weets, <i>knows</i>.</li> + +<li>weil-heid, <i>the vortex of a whirlpool</i>.</li> + +<li>weill-faur'd, <i>well-favored</i>.</li> + +<li>weir, <i>war</i>.</li> + +<li>weird, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>, <i>made liable to</i>, <i>exposed to</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1"><a href="#Page_308">308</a>, apparently, <i>foretell that it is important</i>.</li> + +<li>weirdless, <i>unlucky</i>.</li> + +<li>well-wight men, <i>picked strong men</i>.</li> + +<li>westlin, <i>westward</i>.</li> + +<li>whareto, <i>wherefore</i>.</li> + +<li>whin, <i>furze</i>.</li> + +<li>wicht, <i>wight</i>.</li> + +<li>wicker, <i>twist, from being too tightly drawn</i>.</li> + +<li>wight, <i>strong</i>, <i>active</i>.</li> + +<li>wightlye, <i>bravely</i>, <i>quickly</i>.</li> + +<li>wightsmen, <a href="#Page_325">325</a>, <i>husbandmen?</i></li> + +<li>win, <i>come</i>, <i>reach</i>;</li> + <li>win near, <i>come near</i>;</li> + <li>win up, <i>get up</i>.</li> + +<li>winsome, <i>gay</i>, <i>comely</i>.</li> + +<li>win hay, <i>dry or make</i>.</li> + +<li>wit, <i>information</i>.</li> + +<li>wite, <i>blame</i>.</li> + +<li>wode, <i>mad</i>.</li> + +<li>woe, <i>sad</i>.</li> + +<li>won up, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>, <i>get up</i>;</li> + <li class="indent1">should be <i>win up</i>.</li> + +<li>wrocht, <i>wrought</i>.</li> + +<li><!-- Page 411 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[Pg 411]</a></span>wush, <i>washed</i>.</li> + +<li>wyde, <i>wade</i>.</li> + +<li>wyte, <a href="#Page_317">317</a>, <i>blame</i>.</li> + +<li>wyte, <i>know</i>.</li> +</ul> + +<ul> +<li>yate, <i>gate</i>.</li> + +<li>yeard-fast, <i>fixed in the earth</i>.</li> + +<li>yestreen, <i>yesterday</i>.</li> + +<li>yett, <i>gate</i>.</li> + +<li>ying, <i>young</i>.</li> + +<li>young son, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <i>see</i> auld son.</li> + +<li>y-rode, <i>rode</i>.</li> + +<li>y-were, <i>were</i>.</li> +</ul> + +<ul> +<li>zechins, <i>sequins</i>.</li> + +<li>zoung, <i>young</i>.</li> + +<li>Zule, <i>Yule</i>, <i>Christmas</i>.</li> +</ul> + + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> It "meant a certain species of aperture, generally circular, +which used to be common in the stair-cases of old wooden +houses in Scotland, and some specimens of which are yet +to be seen in the Old Town of Edinburgh. It was calculated +to save glass in those parts of the house where light was +required, but where there was no necessity for the exclusion +of the air."—<i>Chambers.</i> +</p><p> +Not always certainly, since persons are sometimes said to +be lying at the shot window.</p></div> + + +<div class="trans-note"> +<h4><a name="Transcribers_Notes" id="Transcribers_Notes"></a>Transcriber's Notes</h4> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_iii">iii</a>: changed "Kinlock" to "Kinloch" (27 b. Laird of Wariestoun, [Kinloch])</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_v">v</a>: changed "Malcom" to "Malcolm" (King Malcolm and Sir Colvin)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_29">29</a>; line 62: changed "this" to "thir" (Till thir twa craps drew near;)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_207">207</a>; line 34: deleted closing quotation mark (Yet let me go with thee:)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_219">219</a>; linenote: changed line reference from "62, 63" to "61, 62"</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_226">226</a>; line 34: changed "countrayc" to "countraye" (Sir John of the north countraye)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_245">245</a>; line 48: added closing quotation mark (And there shalt thou hang on hye.")</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_294">294</a>; line 16: added closing quotation mark (And candles burning bright.")</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_303">303</a>; lines 53, 54: added missing quotation marks ("What ails the king at me," he said, +"What ails the king at me?")</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_303">303</a>; line 57: added opening quotation mark ("Liars will lie on sell gude men,)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_317">317</a>: changed "Wier" to "Weir" (Weir was brought up, at midnight, from the cellar)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_336">336</a>; line 32: changed closing single quote to double quote (I will bate you for stayin' so long.")</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_345">345</a>; line 71: changed "taavelled" to "travelled" (He scarcely travelled frae the town)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_359">359</a>; line 52: removed opening single quote (My good lord's broken bands.')</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_397">397</a>; line 60: changed closing single quote to double (This day has robbed me;")</p> +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of English and Scottish Ballads (volume 3 +of 8), by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENGLISH, SCOTTISH BALLADS, (3 OF 8) *** + +***** This file should be named 38037-h.htm or 38037-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/0/3/38037/ + +Produced by Simon Gardner, Dianna Adair, Louise Davies and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by the Digital & Multimedia +Center, Michigan State University Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: English and Scottish Ballads (volume 3 of 8) + +Author: Various + +Editor: Francis James Child + +Release Date: November 16, 2011 [EBook #38037] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENGLISH, SCOTTISH BALLADS (3 OF 8) *** + + + + +Produced by Simon Gardner, Dianna Adair, Louise Davies and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by the Digital & Multimedia +Center, Michigan State University Libraries.) + + + + + +Transcriber's Notes + +Archaic, dialect and inconsistent spellings have been retained as in the +original. Other than minor changes to format or punctuation, any changes +to the text have been listed at the end of the book. + +In this Plain Text version of the e-book, symbols from the ASCII +character set only are used. The following substitutions are made for +other symbols, accent and diacritics in the text: + + [ae] and [AE] = ae-ligature (upper and lower case). + [^a] = a-circumflex + [:a] = a-umlaut + [oa] = a-ring + [c,] = c-cedilla + ['e] = e-acute + [e'] = e-grave + [~n] = n-tilde + [:o] = o-umlaut + [OE] and [oe] = oe-ligature (upper and lower case). + [S] = section symbol + [:u] = u-umlaut + +Other conventions used to represent the original text are as follows: + + Italic typeface is indicated by _underscores_. + Small caps typeface is represented by UPPER CASE. + Superscript characters are indicated by ^{xx}. + A pointing hand symbol is represented as [hand]. + +Footnotes are numbered in sequence throughout the book and presented at +the end of the section or ballad in which the footnote anchor appears. +Notes with reference to ballad line numbers are presented at the end of +each ballad. + + * * * * * + + ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH + BALLADS. + + EDITED BY + FRANCIS JAMES CHILD. + + VOLUME III. + + BOSTON: + LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY. + M.DCCC.LX. + + + + + Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857 by LITTLE, + BROWN AND COMPANY, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of + Massachusetts. + + RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE: + STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY + H.O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY. + + + + +CONTENTS OF VOLUME THIRD. + + + BOOK III. (continued.) + + Page + + 11 a. Earl Richard, (A) [Scott's version] 3 + 11 b. Earl Richard, [Motherwell's version] 10 + 11 c. Young Redin 13 + 11 d. Lord William 18 + 12 a. Prince Robert 22 + 12 b. Earl Robert 26 + 13. The Weary Coble o' Cargill 30 + 14. Old Robin of Portingale 34 + 15. Fause Foodrage 40 + 16. Bonnie Annie 47 + 17. William Guiseman 50 + 18 a. The Enchanted Ring 53 + 18 b. Bonny Bee-Ho'm 57 + 19 a. The Three Ravens 59 + 19 b. The Twa Corbies, [Scott] 61 + 20 a. The Dowie Dens of Yarrow 63 + 20 b. The Braes o' Yarrow 69 + 21. Sir James the Rose 73 + 22. Gr[ae]me and Bewick 77 + 23. The Lament of the Border Widow 86 + 24. Young Waters 88 + 25. Bonnie George Campbell 92 + 26 a. Lamkin 94 + 26 b. Lambert Linkin 100 + 27 a. The Laird of Waristoun, [Jamieson] 107 + 27 b. Laird of Wariestoun, [Kinloch] 110 + 28 a. The Queen's Marie 113 + 28 b. Mary Hamilton 120 + 29. Bessie Bell and Mary Gray 126 + 30. The Children in the Wood 128 + 31 a. Hugh of Lincoln 136 + 31 b. Sir Hugh 142 + 31 c. The Jew's Daughter 144 + 32 a. Sir Patrick Spence, [Percy] 147 + 32 b. Sir Patrick Spens, [Scott] 152 + + + BOOK IV. + + 1. King Estmere 159 + 2. Sir Cauline 173 + 3 a. Fair Annie, [Scott] 191 + 3 b. Fair Annie, [Motherwell] 198 + 4 a. Child Waters 205 + 4 b. Burd Ellen 213 + 5 a. Erlinton 220 + 5 b. The Child of Elle 224 + 6 a. Sir Aldingar 234 + 6 b. Sir Hugh le Blond 253 + 7 a. The Knight, and Shepherd's Daughter 260 + 7 b. Earl Richard (B) 266 + 8 a. The Gay Goss-Hawk 277 + 8 b. The Jolly Goshawk 285 + + + APPENDIX. + + Young Hunting 295 + Young Waters 301 + Lammikin 307 + Long Lonkin 313 + The Laird of Waristoun 316 + Mary Hamilton, [Kinloch] 324 + Mary Hamilton, [Maidment] 329 + Sir Hugh, or The Jew's Daughter, [Motherwell] 331 + Sir Hugh, [Hume] 335 + Sir Patrick Spens 338 + Lord Livingston 343 + Clerk Tamas 349 + John Thomson and The Turk 352 + Lord Thomas Stuart 357 + The Spanish Virgin 360 + The Lady Isabella's Tragedy 366 + The Cruel Black 370 + King Malcolm and Sir Colvin 378 + Ski[oe]n Anna; Fair Annie 383 + Lady Margaret 390 + Earl Richard (B) 395 + + GLOSSARY 403 + + + + +BOOK III. + +CONTINUED. + + + + +EARL RICHARD. + + +A fragment of this gloomy and impressive romance, (corresponding to v. +21-42,) was published in Herd's _Scottish Songs_, i. 184, from which, +probably, it was copied into Pinkerton's _Scottish Tragic Ballads_, p. +84. The entire ballad was first printed in _The Border Minstrelsy_, +together with another piece, _Lord William_, containing a part of the +same incidents. Of the five versions which have appeared, four are given +in this place, and the remaining one in the Appendix. In the +_Gentleman's Magazine_, 1794, Vol. 64, Part I. p. 553, there is a modern +ballad of extremely perverted orthography and vicious style, (meant for +ancient,) in which the twenty lines of Herd's fragment are interwoven +with an altogether different story. It is printed as authentic in +_Scarce "Ancient" Ballads_, Aberdeen, 1822. + +"There are two ballads in Mr. Herd's MSS. upon the following story, in +one of which the unfortunate knight is termed _Young Huntin'_. [See +Appendix.] The best verses are selected from both copies, and some +trivial alterations have been adopted from tradition." _Minstrelsy of +the Scottish Border_, iii. 184. + + "O Lady, rock never your young son, young, + One hour langer for me; + For I have a sweetheart in Garlioch Wells, + I love far better than thee. + + "The very sole o' that lady's foot 5 + Than thy face is far mair white:" + "But, nevertheless, now, Erl Richard, + Ye will bide in my bower a' night?" + + She birled him with the ale and wine, + As they sat down to sup: 10 + A living man he laid him down, + But I wot he ne'er rose up. + + Then up and spake the popinjay, + That flew aboun her head; + "Lady! keep weel your green cleiding 15 + Frae gude Erl Richard's bleid."-- + + "O better I'll keep my green cleiding + Frae gude Erl Richard's bleid, + Than thou canst keep thy clattering toung, + That trattles in thy head." 20 + + She has call'd upon her bower maidens, + She has call'd them ane by ane; + "There lies a dead man in my bour: + I wish that he were gane!" + + They hae booted him, and spurred him, 25 + As he was wont to ride;-- + A hunting-horn tied round his waist, + A sharpe sword by his side; + And they hae had him to the wan water, + For a' men call it Clyde.[L30] 30 + + Then up and spoke the popinjay + That sat upon the tree-- + "What hae ye done wi' Erl Richard? + Ye were his gay ladye."-- + + "Come down, come down, my bonny bird, 35 + And sit upon my hand; + And thou sall hae a cage o' gowd, + Where thou hast but the wand."-- + + "Awa! awa! ye ill woman! + Nae cage o' gowd for me; 40 + As ye hae done to Erl Richard, + Sae wad ye do to me." + + She hadna cross'd a rigg o' land, + A rigg but barely ane, + When she met wi' his auld father, 45 + Came riding all alane. + + "Where hae ye been, now, ladye fair, + Where hae ye been sae late? + We hae been seeking Erl Richard, + But him we canna get."-- 50 + + "Erl Richard kens a' the fords in Clyde, + He'll ride them ane by ane; + And though the night was ne'er sae mirk, + Erl Richard will be hame." + + O it fell anes, upon a day, 55 + The King was boun to ride; + And he has mist him, Erl Richard, + Should hae ridden on his right side. + + The ladye turn'd her round about, + Wi' mickle mournfu' din-- 60 + "It fears me sair o' Clyde water, + That he is drown'd therein."-- + + "Gar douk, gar douk," the King he cried, + "Gar douk for gold and fee; + O wha will douk for Erl Richard's sake, 65 + Or wha will douk for me?" + + They douked in at ae weil-heid, + And out aye at the other; + "We can douk nae mair for Erl Richard, + Although he were our brother." 70 + + It fell that, in that ladye's castle, + The King was boun to bed; + And up and spake the popinjay, + That flew abune his head. + + "Leave aff your douking on the day, 75 + And douk upon the night; + And where that sackless knight lies slain, + The candles will burn bright."-- + + "O there's a bird within this bower, + That sings baith sad and sweet; 80 + O there's a bird within your bower, + Keeps me frae my night's sleep." + + They left the douking on the day, + And douk'd upon the night; + And where that sackless knight lay slain, 85 + The candles burned bright.[L86] + + The deepest pot in a' the linn,[L87] + They fand Erl Richard in; + A green turf tyed across his breast, + To keep that gude lord down. 90 + + Then up and spake the King himsell, + When he saw the deadly wound-- + "O wha has slain my right-hand man, + That held my hawk and hound?"-- + + Then up and spake the popinjay, 95 + Says--"What needs a' this din? + It was his light leman took his life, + And hided him in the linn." + + She swore her by the grass sae grene, + Sae did she by the corn, 100 + She hadna seen him, Erl Richard, + Since Moninday at morn. + + "Put na the wite on me," she said, + "It was my may Catherine:" + Then they hae cut baith fern and thorn, 105 + To burn that maiden in. + + It wadna take upon her cheik, + Nor yet upon her chin; + Nor yet upon her yellow hair, + To cleanse the deadly sin. 110 + + The maiden touch'd the clay-cauld corpse, + A drap it never bled; + The ladye laid her hand on him, + And soon the ground was red. + + Out they hae ta'en her, may Catherine, 115 + And put her mistress in; + The flame tuik fast upon her cheik, + Tuik fast upon her chin; + Tuik fast upon her faire body-- + She burn'd like hollin-green.[L120] 120 + +30. _Clyde_, in Celtic, means _white_.--LOCKHART. + +86. These are unquestionably the corpse-lights, called in Wales +_Canhwyllan Cyrph_, which are sometimes seen to illuminate the spot +where a dead body is concealed. The Editor is informed, that, some years +ago, the corpse of a man, drowned in the Ettrick, below Selkirk, was +discovered by means of these candles. Such lights are common in +churchyards, and are probably of a phosphoric nature. But rustic +superstition derives them from supernatural agency, and supposes, that, +as soon as life has departed, a pale flame appears at the window of the +house, in which the person had died, and glides towards the churchyard, +tracing through every winding the route of the future funeral, and +pausing where the bier is to rest. This and other opinions, relating to +the "tomb-fires' livid gleam," seem to be of Runic extraction. SCOTT. + +87. The deep holes, scooped in the rock by the eddies of a river, are +called _pots_; the motion of the water having there some resemblance to +a boiling caldron. _Linn_, means the pool beneath a cataract. SCOTT. + +120. The lines immediately preceding, "The maiden touched," &c., and +which are restored from tradition, refer to a superstition formerly +received in most parts of Europe, and even resorted to by judicial +authority, for the discovery of murder. In Germany, this experiment was +called _bahrrecht_, or the law of the bier; because, the murdered body +being stretched upon a bier, the suspected person was obliged to put one +hand upon the wound and the other upon the mouth of the deceased, and, +in that posture, call upon heaven to attest his innocence. If, during +this ceremony, the blood gushed from the mouth, nose, or wound, a +circumstance not unlikely to happen in the course of shifting or +stirring the body, it was held sufficient evidence of the guilt of the +party. SCOTT. + + + + +EARL RICHARD. + + Obtained from recitation by Motherwell, and printed in his + _Minstrelsy_, p. 218. + + + Earl Richard is a hunting gone, + As fast as he could ride; + His hunting-horn hung about his neck, + And a small sword by his side. + + When he came to my lady's gate, 5 + He tirled at the pin; + And wha was sae ready as the lady hersell + To open and let him in? + + "O light, O light, Earl Richard," she says, + "O light and stay a' night; 10 + You shall have cheer wi' charcoal clear, + And candles burning bright." + + "I will not light, I cannot light, + I cannot light at all; + A fairer lady than ten of thee 15 + Is waiting at Richard's-wall." + + He stooped from his milk-white steed, + To kiss her rosy cheek; + She had a penknife in her hand, + And wounded him so deep. 20 + + "O lie ye there, Earl Richard," she says, + "O lie ye there till morn; + A fairer lady than ten of me + Will think lang of your coming home." + + She called her servants ane by ane, 25 + She called them twa by twa: + "I have got a dead man in my bower, + I wish he were awa." + + The ane has ta'en him by the hand, + And the other by the feet; 30 + And they've thrown him in a deep draw well, + Full fifty fathoms deep. + + Then up bespake a little bird, + That sat upon a tree: + "Gae hame, gae hame, ye fause lady, 35 + And pay your maids their fee." + + "Come down, come down, my pretty bird, + That sits upon the tree; + I have a cage of beaten gold, + I'll gie it unto thee." 40 + + "Gae hame, gae hame, ye fause lady, + And pay your maids their fee; + As ye have done to Earl Richard, + Sae wud ye do to me." + + "If I had an arrow in my hand, 45 + And a bow bent on a string; + I'd shoot a dart at thy proud heart, + Among the leaves sae green." + + + + +YOUNG REDIN. + + "From the recitation of Miss E. Beattie, of Edinburgh, a native of + Mearnsshire, who sings it to a plaintive, though somewhat monotonous + air of one measure."--KINLOCH, _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 1. + + + Young Redin's til the huntin gane, + Wi' therty lords and three; + And he has til his true-love gane, + As fast as he could hie. + + "Ye're welcome here, my young Redin, 5 + For coal and candle licht; + And sae are ye, my young Redin, + To bide wi' me the nicht." + + "I thank ye for your licht, ladie, + Sae do I for your coal; 10 + But there's thrice as fair a ladie as thee + Meets me at Brandie's well." + + Whan they were at their supper set, + And merrily drinking wine, + This ladie has tane a sair sickness, 15 + And til her bed has gane. + + Young Redin he has followed her, + And a dowie man was he; + He fund his true-love in her bouer, + And the tear was in her ee. 20 + + Whan he was in her arms laid, + And gieing her kisses sweet, + Then out she's tane a little penknife, + And wounded him sae deep. + + "O lang, lang, is the winter nicht, 25 + And slawly daws the day; + There is a slain knicht in my bouer, + And I wish he war away." + + Then up bespak her bouer-woman, + And she spak ae wi' spite:-- 30 + "An there be a slain knicht in your bouer, + It's yoursel that has the wyte." + + "O heal this deed on me, Meggy, + O heal this deed on me; + The silks that war shapen for me gen Pasche, + They sall be sewed for thee." 35 + + "O I hae heal'd on my mistress + A twalmonth and a day, + And I hae heal'd on my mistress, + Mair than I can say." 40 + + They've booted him, and they've spurred him, + As he was wont to ride:-- + A huntin horn round his neck, + And a sharp sword by his side; + In the deepest place o' Clyde's water, 45 + It's there they've made his bed. + + Sine up bespak the wylie parrot, + As he sat on the tree,-- + "And hae ye kill'd him young Redin, + Wha ne'er had love but thee!" 50 + + "Come doun, come doun, ye wylie parrot, + Come doun into my hand; + Your cage sall be o' the beaten gowd, + When now it's but the wand." + + "I winna come doun, I canna come doun, 55 + I winna come doun to thee; + For as ye've dune to young Redin, + Ye'll do the like to me; + Ye'll thraw my head aff my hause-bane, + And throw me in the sea." 60 + + O there cam seekin young Redin, + Monie a lord and knicht; + And there cam seekin young Redin, + Monie a ladie bricht. + + And they hae til his true-love gane, 65 + Thinking he was wi' her; + * * * * * * * + * * * * * * * + + "I hae na seen him, young Redin, + Sin yesterday at noon; 70 + He turn'd his stately steed about, + And hied him through the toun. + + "But ye'll seek Clyde's water up and doun, + Ye'll seek it out and in-- + I hae na seen him, young Redin, 75 + Sin yesterday at noon." + + Then up bespak young Redin's mither, + And a dowie woman was scho;-- + "There's na a place in a Clyde's water, + But my son wad gae through." 80 + + They've sought Clyde's water up and doun, + They've sought it out and in, + And the deepest place o' Clyde's water + They fund young Redin in. + + O white, white, war his wounds washen, 85 + As white as a linen clout; + But as the traitor she cam near, + His wounds they gushed out! + + "It's surely been my bouer-woman, + O ill may her betide; 90 + I ne'er wad slain him young Redin, + And thrown him in the Clyde." + + Then they've made a big bane-fire, + The bouer-woman to brin; + It tuke na on her cheek, her cheek, 95 + It tuke na on her chin, + But it tuke on the cruel hands + That put young Redin in. + + Then they're tane out the bouer-woman, + And put the ladie in: 100 + It tuke na on her cheek, her cheek, + It tuke na on her chin, + But it tuke on the fause, fause arms, + That young Redin lay in. + + + + +LORD WILLIAM. + +_Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 23. + + +This ballad was communicated to Sir Walter Scott by Mr. James Hogg, +accompanied with the following note:-- + +"I am fully convinced of the antiquity of this song; for, although much +of the language seems somewhat modernized, this must be attributed to +its currency, being much liked, and very much sung in this +neighbourhood. I can trace it back several generations, but cannot hear +of its ever having been in print. I have never heard it with any +considerable variation, save that one reciter called the dwelling of the +feigned sweet-heart, _Castleswa_." + + Lord William was the bravest knight + That dwalt in fair Scotland, + And though renown'd in France and Spain, + Fell by a ladie's hand. + + As she was walking maid alone, 5 + Down by yon shady wood, + She heard a smit o' bridle reins, + She wish'd might be for good. + + "Come to my arms, my dear Willie, + You're welcome hame to me; 10 + To best o' cheer and charcoal red,[L11] + And candle burning free."-- + + "I winna light, I darena light, + Nor come to your arms at a'; + A fairer maid than ten o' you 15 + I'll meet at Castle-law."-- + + "A fairer maid than me, Willie! + A fairer maid than me! + A fairer maid than ten o' me + Your eyes did never see."-- 20 + + He louted ower his saddle lap, + To kiss her ere they part, + And wi' a little keen bodkin, + She pierced him to the heart. + + "Ride on, ride on, Lord William now, 25 + As fast as ye can dree! + Your bonny lass at Castle-law + Will weary you to see."-- + + Out up then spake a bonny bird, + Sat high upon a tree,-- 30 + "How could you kill that noble lord? + He came to marry thee."-- + + "Come down, come down, my bonny bird, + And eat bread aff my hand! + Your cage shall be of wiry goud, 35 + Whar now it's but the wand."-- + + "Keep ye your cage o' goud, lady, + And I will keep my tree; + As ye hae done to Lord William, + Sae wad ye do to me."-- 40 + + She set her foot on her door step, + A bonny marble stane, + And carried him to her chamber, + O'er him to make her mane. + + And she has kept that good lord's corpse 45 + Three quarters of a year, + Until that word began to spread; + Then she began to fear. + + Then she cried on her waiting maid, + Aye ready at her ca'; 50 + "There is a knight into my bower, + 'Tis time he were awa."-- + + The ane has ta'en him by the head, + The ither by the feet, + And thrown him in the wan water, 55 + That ran baith wide and deep. + + "Look back, look back, now, lady fair, + On him that lo'ed ye weel! + A better man than that blue corpse + Ne'er drew a sword of steel."-- 60 + +11. _Charcoal red._ This circumstance marks the antiquity of the poem. +While wood was plenty in Scotland, charcoal was the usual fuel in the +chambers of the wealthy. SCOTT. + + + + +PRINCE ROBERT + + +Was first published in the _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. +269, and was obtained from the recitation of Miss Christian Rutherford. +Another copy, also from recitation, is subjoined. + + Prince Robert has wedded a gay ladye, + He has wedded her with a ring: + Prince Robert has wedded a gay ladye, + But he darna bring her hame. + + "Your blessing, your blessing, my mother dear! 5 + Your blessing now grant to me!"-- + "Instead of a blessing ye sall have my curse, + And you'll get nae blessing frae me."-- + + She has call'd upon her waiting-maid, + To fill a glass of wine; 10 + She has call'd upon her fause steward, + To put rank poison in. + + She has put it to her roudes lip, + And to her roudes chin; + She has put it to her fause, fause mouth, 15 + But the never a drap gaed in. + + He has put it to his bonny mouth, + And to his bonny chin, + He's put it to his cherry lip, + And sae fast the rank poison ran in. 20 + + "O ye hae poison'd your ae son, mother, + Your ae son and your heir; + O ye hae poison'd your ae son, mother, + And sons you'll never hae mair. + + "O where will I get a little boy, 25 + That will win hose and shoon, + To rin sae fast to Darlinton, + And bid fair Eleanor come?"-- + + Then up and spake a little boy, + That wad win hose and shoon,-- 30 + "O I'll away to Darlinton, + And bid fair Eleanor come."-- + + O he has run to Darlinton, + And tirled at the pin; + And wha was sae ready as Eleanor's sell 35 + To let the bonny boy in. + + "Your gude-mother has made ye a rare dinour, + She's made it baith gude and fine; + Your gude-mother has made ye a gay dinour, + And ye maun cum till her and dine."-- 40 + + It's twenty lang miles to Sillertoun town, + The langest that ever were gane: + But the steed it was wight, and the ladye was light, + And she cam linkin' in. + + But when she came to Sillertoun town, 45 + And into Sillertoun ha', + The torches were burning, the ladies were mourning, + And they were weeping a'. + + "O where is now my wedded lord, + And where now can he be? 50 + O where is now my wedded lord? + For him I canna see."-- + + "Your wedded lord is dead," she says, + "And just gane to be laid in the clay: + Your wedded lord is dead," she says, 55 + "And just gane to be buried the day. + + "Ye'se get nane o' his gowd, ye'se get nane o' his gear, + Ye'se get nae thing frae me; + Ye'se no get an inch o' his gude braid land, + Though your heart suld burst in three."-- 60 + + "I want nane o' his gowd, I want nane o' his gear, + I want nae land frae thee: + But I'll hae the rings that's on his finger, + For them he did promise to me."-- + + "Ye'se no get the rings that's on his finger, 65 + Ye'se no get them frae me; + Ye'se no get the rings that's on his finger, + An your heart suld burst in three."-- + + She's turn'd her back unto the wa', + And her face unto a rock; 70 + And there, before the mother's face, + Her very heart it broke. + + The tane was buried in Marie's kirk, + The tother in Marie's quair; + And out o' the tane there sprang a birk, 75 + And out o' the tother a brier. + + And thae twa met, and thae twa plat, + The birk but and the brier; + And by that ye may very weel ken + They were twa lovers dear. 80 + + + + +EARL ROBERT. + + +"Given," says Motherwell, "from the recitation of an old woman, a native +of Bonhill, in Dumbartonshire; and it is one of the earliest songs she +remembers of having heard chanted on the classic banks of the Water of +Leaven."--_Minstrelsy_, p. 200. + +Another copy is noted by the same editor as containing the following +stanzas:-- + + Lord Robert and Mary Florence, + They wer twa children ying; + They were scarce seven years of age + Till luve began to spring. + Lord Robert loved Mary Florence, + And she lov'd him above power; + But he durst not for his cruel mither + Bring her intill his bower. + + * * * * * + + It's fifty miles to Sittingen's rocks, + As ever was ridden or gane; + And Earl Robert has wedded a wife, + But he dare na bring her hame. + _And Earl Robert has wedded a wife_, &c. 5 + + His mother, she call'd to her waiting-maid: + "O bring me a pint of wine, + For I dinna weel ken what hour of this day + That my son Earl Robert shall dine." + + She's put it to her fause, fause cheek, + But an' her fause, fause chin; 10 + She's put it to her fause, fause lips; + But never a drap went in. + + But he's put it to his bonny cheek, + Aye and his bonny chin; + He's put it to his red rosy lips, 15 + And the poison went merrily down. + + "O where will I get a bonny boy, + That will win hose and shoon,-- + That will gang quickly to Sittingen's rocks, + And bid my lady come?" 20 + + It's out then speaks a bonny boy, + To Earl Robert was something akin: + "Many a time have I run thy errand, + But this day with the tears I'll rin." + + O when he cam to Sittingen's rocks, 25 + To the middle of a' the ha', + There were bells a ringing, and music playing, + And ladies dancing a'. + + "What news, what news, my bonny boy, + What news have ye to me? 30 + Is Earl Robert in very good health, + And the ladies of your countrie?" + + "O Earl Robert's in very good health, + And as weel as a man can be; + But his mother this night has a drink to be druken, 35 + And at it you must be." + + She called to her waiting-maid, + To bring her a riding weed; + And she called to her stable groom, + To saddle her milk-white steed. 40 + + But when she came to Earl Robert's bouir, + To the middle of a' the ha', + There were bells a ringing and sheets down hinging, + And ladies murning a'. + + "I've come for none of his gold," she said, 45 + "Nor none of his white monie; + Excepting a ring of his smallest finger, + If that you will grant me." + + "Thou'll no get none of his gold," she said. + "Nor none of his white monie; 50 + Thou'll no get a ring of his smallest finger, + Tho' thy heart should break in three." + + She set her foot unto a stone, + Her back unto a tree; + She set her foot unto a stone, 55 + And her heart did break in three! + + The one was buried in Mary's kirk, + The other in Mary's quier; + Out of the one there grew a bush, + From the other a bonnie brier. 60 + + And thir twa grew, and thir twa threw, + Till thir twa craps drew near; + So all the world may plainly see + That they lov'd each other dear. + + + + +THE WEARY COBLE O' CARGILL. + +From Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 230. + + +"This local ballad, which commemorates some real event, is given from +the recitation of an old woman, residing in the neighbourhood of Cambus +Michael, Perthshire. It possesses the elements of good poetry, and, had +it fallen into the hands of those who make no scruple of interpolating +and corrupting the text of oral song, it might have been made, with +little trouble, a very interesting and pathetic composition. + +"Kercock and Balathy are two small villages on the banks of the Tay; the +latter is nearly opposite Stobhall. According to tradition, the +ill-fated hero of the ballad had a leman in each of these places; and it +was on the occasion of his paying a visit to his Kercock love, that the +jealous dame in Balathy Toun, from a revengeful feeling, scuttled the +boat in which he was to recross the Tay to Stobhall." MOTHERWELL. + + David Drummond's destinie, + Gude man o' appearance o' Cargill; + I wat his blude rins in the flude, + Sae sair against his parents' will. + + She was the lass o' Balathy toun, 5 + And he the butler o' Stobhall; + And mony a time she wauked late, + To bore the coble o' Cargill. + + His bed was made in Kercock ha', + Of gude clean sheets and of the hay; 10 + He wudna rest ae nicht therein, + But on the prude waters he wud gae. + + His bed was made in Balathy toun, + Of the clean sheets and of the strae; + But I wat it was far better made, 15 + Into the bottom o' bonnie Tay. + + She bored the coble in seven pairts, + I wat her heart might hae been sae sair; + For there she got the bonnie lad lost, + Wi' the curly locks and the yellow hair. 20 + + He put his foot into the boat, + He little thocht o' ony ill: + But before that he was mid waters, + The weary coble began to fill. + + "Woe be to the lass o' Balathy toun, 25 + I wat an ill death may she die; + For she bored the coble in seven pairts, + And let the waters perish me! + + "O help, O help I can get nane, + Nae help o' man can to me come!" 30 + This was about his dying words, + When he was choaked up to the chin. + + "Gae tell my father and my mother, + It was naebody did me this ill; + I was a-going my ain errands, 35 + Lost at the coble o' bonnie Cargill." + + She bored the boat in seven pairts, + I wat she bored it wi' gude will; + And there they got the bonnie lad's corpse, + In the kirk-shot o' bonnie Cargill. 40 + + O a' the keys o' bonnie Stobha', + I wat they at his belt did hing; + But a' the keys of bonnie Stobha', + They now ly low into the stream. + + A braver page into his age 45 + Ne'er set a foot upon the plain; + His father to his mother said, + "O sae sune as we've wanted him! + + "I wat they had mair luve than this, + When they were young and at the scule; 50 + But for his sake she wauked late, + And bored the coble o' bonnie Cargill. + + "There's ne'er a clean sark gae on my back, + Nor yet a kame gae in my hair; + There's neither coal nor candle licht 55 + Shall shine in my bouer for ever mair. + + "At kirk nor market I'se ne'er be at, + Nor yet a blythe blink in my ee; + There's ne'er a ane shall say to anither, + That's the lassie gar'd the young man die." 60 + + Between the yetts o' bonnie Stobha', + And the kirkstyle o' bonnie Cargill, + There is mony a man and mother's son + That was at my luve's burial. + + + + +OLD ROBIN OF PORTINGALE. + +Percy's _Reliques of English Poetry_, iii. 88. + + +"From an ancient copy in the Editor's folio MS., which was judged to +require considerable corrections. + +"In the former edition the hero of this piece had been called Sir Robin, +but that title not being in the MS. is now omitted. + +"Giles, steward to a rich old merchant trading to Portugal, is qualified +with the title of _Sir_, not as being a knight, but rather, I conceive, +as having received an inferior order of priesthood." PERCY. + + Let never again soe old a man + Marrye soe yonge a wife, + As did old Robin of Portingale; + Who may rue all the dayes of his life. + + For the mayors daughter of Lin, God wott 5 + He chose her to his wife, + And thought with her to have lived in love, + But they fell to hate and strife. + + They scarce were in their wed-bed laid, + And scarce was hee asleepe, 10 + But upp shee rose, and forth shee goes, + To the steward, and gan to weepe. + + "Sleepe you, wake you, faire Sir Gyles? + Or be you not within? + Sleepe you, wake you, faire Sir Gyles, 15 + Arise and let me inn." + + "O I am waking, sweete," he said, + "Sweete ladye, what is your will?" + "I have onbethought me of a wile[L19] + How my wed lord weel spill. 20 + + "Twenty-four good knights," shee sayes, + "That dwell about this towne, + Even twenty-four of my next cozens + Will helpe to dinge him downe." + + All that beheard his litle footepage, 25 + As he watered his masters steed; + And for his masters sad perille + His verry heart did bleed. + + He mourned, sighed and wept full sore; + I sweare by the holy roode, 30 + The teares he for his master wept + Were blent water and bloude.[L32] + + And that beheard his deare master + As he stood at his garden pale: + Sayes, "Ever alacke, my litle foot-page, 35 + What causes thee to wail? + + "Hath any one done to thee wronge, + Any of thy fellowes here? + Or is any of thy good friends dead, + That thou shedst manye a teare? 40 + + "Or, if it be my head bookes-man, + Aggrieved he shal bee: + For no man here within my howse + Shall doe wrong unto thee." + + "O it is not your head bookes-man, 45 + Nor none of his degree: + But, on to-morrow ere it be noone[L47] + All deemed to die are yee: + "And of that bethank your head steward, + And thank your gay ladye." 50 + + "If this be true, my litle foot-page, + The heyre of my land thoust bee:" + + "If it be not true, my dear master, + No good death let me die:" + "If it be not true, thou litle foot-page, 55 + A dead corse shalt thou bee. + + "O call now downe my faire ladye, + O call her downe to mee; + And tell my ladye gay how sicke, + And like to die I bee." 60 + + Downe then came his ladye faire, + All clad in purple and pall: + The rings that were on her fingers, + Cast light thorrow the hall. + + "What is your will, my own wed-lord? 65 + "What is your will with mee?" + "O see, my ladye deere, how sicke, + And like to die I bee." + + "And thou be sicke, my own wed-lord, + Soe sore it grieveth me: 70 + But my five maydens and myselfe + Will make the bedde for thee. + + "And at the waking of your first sleepe, + We will a hott drinke make; + And at the waking of your next sleepe,[L75] 75 + Your sorrowes we will slake." + + He put a silk cote on his backe, + And mail of manye a fold; + And hee putt a steele cap on his head, + Was gilt with good red gold. 80 + + He layd a bright browne sword by his side, + And another att his feete: + [And twentye good knights he placed at hand, + To watch him in his sleepe.] + + And about the middle time of the night, 85 + Came twentye-four traitours inn; + Sir Giles he was the foremost man, + The leader of that ginn. + + Old Robin with his bright browne sword, + Sir Gyles head soon did winn; 90 + And scant of all those twenty-four + Went out one quick agenn. + + None save only a litle foot-page, + Crept forth at a window of stone; + And he had two armes when he came in, 95 + And he went back with one. + + Upp then came that ladie gaye, + With torches burning bright; + She thought to have brought Sir Gyles a drinke, + Butt she found her owne wedd knight. 100 + + The first thinge that she stumbled on + It was Sir Gyles his foote; + Sayes, "Ever alacke, and woe is mee! + Here lyes my sweete hart-roote." + + The next thinge that she stumbled on 105 + It was Sir Gyles his heade; + Sayes, "Ever alacke, and woe is me! + Heere lyes my true love deade." + + Hee cutt the pappes beside her brest, + And didd her body spille; 110 + He cutt the eares beside her heade, + And bade her love her fille. + + He called up then up his litle foot-page, + And made him there his heyre; + And sayd, "Henceforth my worldlye goodes, 115 + And countrie I forsweare." + + He shope the crosse on his right shoulder,[L117] + Of the white clothe and the redde,[L118] + And went him into the holy land, + Wheras Christ was quicke and dead. 120 + +19, unbethought. + +MS. 32, blend. + +47, or to-morrow. + +MS. 75, first. + +117. Every person who went on a Croisade to the Holy Land usually wore a +cross on his upper garment, on the right shoulder, as a badge of his +profession. Different nations were distinguished by crosses of different +colors: the English wore white, the French red, &c. This circumstance +seems to be confounded in the ballad. PERCY. + +MS. 118, fleshe. + + + + +FAUSE FOODRAGE. + +First published in _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 220. + + +"This ballad has been popular in many parts of Scotland. It is chiefly +given from Mrs. Brown of Falkland's MSS. The expression, + + "The boy stared wild like a gray goss-hawk," _v._ 31, + +strongly resembles that in _Hardyknute_, + + "Norse e'en like gray goss-hawk stared wild;" + +a circumstance which led the Editor to make the strictest inquiry into +the authenticity of the song. But every doubt was removed by the +evidence of a lady of high rank, who not only recollected the ballad, as +having amused her infancy, but could repeat many of the verses, +particularly those beautiful stanzas from the 20th to the 25th. The +Editor is, therefore, compelled to believe, that the author of +_Hardyknute_ copied the old ballad, if the coincidence be not altogether +accidental." SCOTT. + + King Easter has courted her for her lands, + King Wester for her fee, + King Honour for her comely face, + And for her fair bodie. + + They had not been four months married, 5 + As I have heard them tell, + Until the nobles of the land + Against them did rebel. + + And they cast kevils them amang, + And kevils them between; 10 + And they cast kevils them amang, + Wha suld gae kill the king. + + O some said yea, and some said nay, + Their words did not agree; + Till up and got him, Fause Foodrage, 15 + And swore it suld be he. + + When bells were rung, and mass was sung, + And a' men bound to bed, + King Honour and his gay ladye + In a high chamber were laid. 20 + + Then up and raise him, Fause Foodrage, + When a' were fast asleep, + And slew the porter in his lodge, + That watch and ward did keep. + + O four and twenty silver keys 25 + Hang hie upon a pin; + And aye as ae door he did unlock, + He has fasten'd it him behind. + + Then up and raise him, King Honour, + Says--"What means a' this din? 30 + Or what's the matter, Fause Foodrage, + Or wha has loot you in?"-- + + "O ye my errand weel sall learn, + Before that I depart."-- + Then drew a knife, baith lang and sharp, 35 + And pierced him to the heart. + + Then up and got the Queen hersell, + And fell low down on her knee, + "O spare my life, now, Fause Foodrage! + For I never injured thee. 40 + + "O spare my life, now, Fause Foodrage! + Until I lighter be! + And see gin it be lad or lass, + King Honour has left me wi'."-- + + "O gin it be a lass," he says, 45 + "Weel nursed it sall be; + But gin it be a lad bairn, + He sall be hanged hie. + + "I winna spare for his tender age, + Nor yet for his hie, hie kin; 50 + But soon as e'er he born is, + He sall mount the gallows pin."-- + + O four-and-twenty valiant knights + Were set the Queen to guard; + And four stood aye at her bour door, 55 + To keep both watch and ward. + + But when the time drew near an end, + That she suld lighter be, + She cast about to find a wile, + To set her body free. 60 + + O she has birled these merry young men + With the ale but and the wine, + Until they were a' deadly drunk + As any wild-wood swine. + + "O narrow, narrow is this window, 65 + And big, big am I grown!"-- + Yet through the might of Our Ladye, + Out at it she is gone. + + She wander'd up, she wander'd down, + She wander'd out and in; 70 + And, at last, into the very swine's stythe, + The Queen brought forth a son. + + Then they cast kevils them amang, + Which suld gae seek the Queen; + And the kevil fell upon Wise William, 75 + And he sent his wife for him. + + O when she saw Wise William's wife, + The Queen fell on her knee: + "Win up, win up, madam!" she says: + "What needs this courtesie?"-- 80 + + "O out o' this I winna rise, + Till a boon ye grant to me; + To change your lass for this lad bairn, + King Honour left me wi'. + + "And ye maun learn my gay goss-hawk 85 + Right weel to breast a steed; + And I sall learn your turtle dow + As weel to write and read. + + "And ye maun learn my gay goss-hawk + To wield both bow and brand; 90 + And I sall learn your turtle dow + To lay gowd wi' her hand. + + "At kirk and market when we meet, + We'll dare make nae avowe, + But--'Dame, how does my gay goss-hawk?' 95 + 'Madame, how does my dow?'" + + When days were gane, and years came on, + Wise William he thought lang; + And he has ta'en King Honour's son + A-hunting for to gang. 100 + + It sae fell out, at this hunting, + Upon a simmer's day, + That they came by a bonny castell, + Stood on a sunny brae. + + "O dinna ye see that bonny castell, 105 + Wi' halls and towers sae fair? + Gin ilka man had back his ain, + Of it you suld be heir." + + "How I suld be heir of that castell, + In sooth, I canna see; 110 + For it belangs to Fause Foodrage, + And he is na kin to me."-- + + "O gin ye suld kill him, Fause Foodrage, + You would do but what was right; + For I wot he kill'd your father dear, 115 + Or ever ye saw the light. + + "And gin ye suld kill him, Fause Foodrage, + There is no man durst you blame; + For he keeps your mother a prisoner, + And she darna take ye hame."-- 120 + + The boy stared wild like a gray goss-hawk, + Says,--"What may a' this mean?" + "My boy, ye are King Honour's son, + And your mother's our lawful queen." + + "O gin I be King Honour's son, 125 + By our Ladye I swear, + This night I will that traitor slay, + And relieve my mother dear!"-- + + He has set his bent bow to his breast, + And leaped the castell wa'; 130 + And soon he has seized on Fause Foodrage, + Wha loud for help 'gan ca'. + + "O haud your tongue, now, Fause Foodrage, + Frae me ye shanna flee;"-- + Syne pierced him through the fause, fause heart, 135 + And set his mother free. + + And he has rewarded Wise William + Wi' the best half o' his land; + And sae has he the turtle dow + Wi' the truth o' his right hand. 140 + + + + +BONNIE ANNIE. + +From Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 123. + + +"There is a prevalent belief among seafaring people, that if a person +who has committed any heinous crime be on ship-board, the vessel, as if +conscious of its guilty burden, becomes unmanageable, and will not sail +till the offender be removed: to discover whom, they usually resort to +the trial of those on board, by casting lots; and the individual upon +whom the lot falls, is declared the criminal, it being believed that +Divine Providence interposes in this manner to point out the guilty +person."--KINLOCH. + +Motherwell is inclined to think this an Irish ballad, though popular in +Scotland. + +With Bonnie Annie may be compared _Jon Rimaards[:o]ns Skriftemaal_, +_Danske Viser_, ii. 220; or, _Herr Peders Sj[:o]resa, Svenska +Folk-Visor_, ii. 31, Arwiddson, ii. 5 (translated in _Literature and +Romance of Northern Europe_, 276). + + There was a rich lord, and he lived in Forfar, + He had a fair lady, and one only dochter. + O she was fair, O dear! she was bonnie, + A ship's captain courted her to be his honey. + + There cam a ship's captain out owre the sea sailing, 5 + He courted this young thing till he got her wi' bairn:-- + "Ye'll steal your father's gowd, and your mother's money, + And I'll mak ye a lady in Ireland bonnie." + + She's stown her father's gowd and her mother's money, + But she was never a lady in Ireland bonnie. 10 + * * * * + + "There's fey fowk in our ship, she winna sail for me, + There's fey fowk in our ship, she winna sail for me." + They've casten black bullets twice six and forty, + And ae the black bullet fell on bonnie Annie. + + "Ye'll tak me in your arms twa, lo, lift me cannie, 15 + Throw me out owre board, your ain dear Annie." + He has tane her in his arms twa, lo, lifted her cannie, + He has laid her on a bed of down, his ain dear Annie. + + "What can a woman do, love, I'll do for ye;" + "Muckle can a woman do, ye canna do for me.-- + Lay about, steer about, lay our ship cannie, 21 + Do all you can to save my dear Annie." + + "I've laid about, steer'd about, laid about cannie, + But all I can do, she winna sail for me. + Ye'll tak her in your arms twa, lo, lift her cannie, 25 + And throw her out owre board, your ain dear Annie." + + He has tane her in his arms twa, lo, lifted her cannie, + He has thrown her out owre board, his ain dear Annie: + As the ship sailed, bonnie Annie she swam, + And she was at Ireland as soon as them. 30 + + They made his love a coffin of the gowd sae yellow, + And they buried her deep on the high banks of Yarrow.[L32] + +32. The last two lines are derived from Motherwell, p. xcix. +The text in Kinloch is corrupt, and stands thus:-- + + He made his love a coffin off the Goats of Yerrow, + And buried his bonnie love doun in a sea valley. + + + + +WILLIAM GUISEMAN. + +From Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 156. + + + "My name is William Guiseman, + In London I do dwell; + I have committed murder, + And that is known right well; + I have committed murder, 5 + And that is known right well, + And it's for mine offence I must die. + + "I lov'd a neighbour's dochter, + And with her I did lie; + I did dissemble with her 10 + Myself to satisfy; + I did dissemble with her + Myself to satisfy, + And it's for mine offence I must die. + + "Sae cunningly's I kept her, 15 + Until the fields war toom; + Sae cunningly's I trysted her + Unto yon shade o' broom; + And syne I took my wills o' her, + And then I flang her doun, 20 + And it's for mine offence I must die. + + "Sae cunningly's I killed her, + Who should have been my wife; + Sae cursedly's I killed her, + And with my cursed knife; 25 + Sae cursedly's I killed her, + Who should have been my wife, + And it's for mine offence I must die. + + "Six days she lay in murder, + Before that she was found; 30 + Six days she lay in murder, + Upon the cursed ground; + Six days she lay in murder, + Before that she was found, + And it's for mine offence I must die. 35 + + "O all the neighbours round about, + They said it had been I; + I put my foot on gude shipboard, + The county to defy; + The ship she wadna sail again, 40 + But hoisted to and fro, + And it's for mine offence I must die. + + "O up bespak the skipper-boy, + I wat he spak too high; + 'There's sinful men amongst us, 45 + The seas will not obey;' + O up bespak the skipper-boy, + I wat he spak too high, + And it's for mine offence I must die. + + "O we cuist cavels us amang, 50 + The cavel fell on me; + O we cuist cavels us amang, + The cavel fell on me; + O we cuist cavels us amang, + The cavel fell on me, 55 + And it's for mine offence I must die. + + "I had a loving mother + Who of me took gret care; + She wad hae gien the gold sae red, + To have bought me from that snare; 60 + But the gold could not be granted, + The gallows pays a share, + And it's for mine offence I must die." + + + + +THE ENCHANTED RING + + +Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 169. Annexed is a +fragment published by Jamieson, under the title of _Bonny Bee-Ho'm_. + + In Lauderdale I chanc'd to walk, + And heard a lady's moan, + Lamenting for her dearest dear, + And aye she cried, ohon! + + "Sure never a maid that e'er drew breath 5 + Had harder fate than me; + I'd never a lad but one on earth, + They forc'd him to the sea. + + "The ale shall ne'er be brewin o' malt, + Neither by sea nor land, 10 + That ever mair shall cross my hause, + Till my love comes to hand. + + A handsome lad wi' shoulders broad, + Gold yellow was his hair; + None of our Scottish youths on earth 15 + That with him could compare. + + She thought her love was gone to sea, + And landed in Bahome; + But he was in a quiet chamber, + Hearing his lady's moan. 20 + + "Why make ye all this moan, lady? + Why make ye all this moan? + For I'm deep sworn on a book, + I must go to Bahome. + + "Traitors false for to subdue, 25 + O'er seas I'll make me boun', + That have trepan'd our kind Scotchmen, + Like dogs to ding them down." + + "Weell, take this ring, this royal thing, + Whose virtue is unknown; 30 + As lang's this ring's your body on, + Your blood shall ne'er be drawn. + + "But if this ring shall fade or stain, + Or change to other hue, + Come never mair to fair Scotland, 35 + If ye're a lover true." + + Then this couple they did part + With a sad heavy moan; + The wind was fair, the ship was rare, + They landed in Bahome. 40 + + But in that place they had not been + A month but barely one, + Till he look'd on his gay gold ring,[L43] + And riven was the stone. + + Time after this was not expir'd 45 + A month but scarcely three, + Till black and ugly was the ring, + And the stone was burst in three.[L48] + + "Fight on, fight on, you merry men all, + With you I'll fight no more; 50 + I will gang to some holy place, + Pray to the King of Glore." + + Then to the chapel he is gone, + And knelt most piteouslie, + For seven days and seven nights, 55 + Till blood ran frae his knee. + + "Ye'll take my jewels that's in Bahome, + And deal them liberallie, + To young that cannot, and old that mannot, + The blind that does not see. 60 + + "Give maist to women in child-bed laid, + Can neither fecht nor flee: + I hope she's in the heavens high, + That died for love of me." + + The knights they wrang their white fingers, 65 + The ladies tore their hair; + The women that ne'er had children born, + In swoon they down fell there. + + But in what way the knight expir'd, + No tongue will e'er declare; 70 + So this doth end my mournful song, + From me ye'll get nae mair. + +43, they look'd. + +48, And stone. + + + + +BONNY BEE-HO'M. + + +Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, i. 184, from Mrs. Brown's MS., the +interpolations of the editor being omitted. + + By Arthur's dale as late I went, + I heard a heavy moan; + I heard a lady lamenting sair. + And ay she cried "ohon!" + + "Ohon, alas! what shall I do, 5 + Tormented night and day? + I never loved a love but ane, + And now he's gone away. + + "But I will do for my true love + What ladies would think sair; 10 + For seven years shall come and gae, + Ere a kaime gae in my hair. + + "There shall neither a shoe gae on my foot, + Nor a kaime gae in my hair, + Nor ever a coal or candle light 15 + Shine in my bower nae mair." + + She thought her love had been on sea, + Fast sailing to Bee-Ho'm; + But he was still in a quiet chamber, + Hearing his lady's moan. 20 + + "Be hush'd, be hush'd, my lady dear, + I pray thee moan not so; + For I am deep sworn on a book + To Bee-Ho'm for to go." + + She's gien him a chain o' the beaten goud, 25 + And a ring with a ruby stone: + "As lang as this chain your body binds, + Your blood can never be drawn. + + "But gin this ring should fade or fail, + Or the stone should change its hue, 30 + Be sure your love is dead and gone, + Or she has proved untrue." + + * * * * * + + He had not been at bonny Bee-Ho'm + A twelvemonth and a day, + Till looking on his gay gold ring, 35 + The stone grew dark and gray. + + "O ye tak my riches to Bee-Ho'm, + And deal them presentlie, + To the young that canna, the old that manna, + The blind that downa see." 40 + + Now Death has come intill his bower, + And split his heart in twain: + Sae their twa sauls flew up to heaven, + And there shall ever remain. + + + + +THE THREE RAVENS. + + +From Ritson's _Ancient English Songs_, ii. 53. It is there reprinted +from Ravenscroft's _Melismata_, 1611. Another copy follows, taken from +Scott's _Minstrelsy_. Motherwell has recast the ballad in modern style, +p. 7 of his collection. + + There were three ravens sat on a tree, + _Downe, a downe, hay downe, hay downe_, + There were three ravens sat on a tree, + _With a downe_, + There were three ravens sat on a tree, + They were as blacke as they might be, + _With a downe, derrie, derrie, derrie, downe, downe_. + + The one of them said to his mate, + "Where shall we our breakefast take?"-- + + "Downe in yonder greene field, 5 + There lies a knight slain under his shield. + + "His hounds they lie downe at his feete, + So well they their master keepe. + + "His haukes they flie so eagerly, + There's no fowle dare him com nie." 10 + + Downe there comes a fallow doe, + As great with yong as she might goe. + + She lift up his bloudy hed, + And kist his wounds that were so red. + + She got him up upon her backe, 15 + And carried him to earthen lake. + + She buried him before the prime, + She was dead herselfe ere even-song time. + + God send every gentleman, + Such haukes, such houndes, and such a leman. 20 + + + + +THE TWA CORBIES. + + +From _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, ii. 359. It was communicated +to Scott by Mr. Sharpe, as written down, from tradition, by a lady. + + As I was walking all alane, + I heard twa corbies making a mane; + The tane unto the t'other say, + "Where sall we gang and dine to-day?"-- + + "In behint yon auld fail dyke, 5 + I wot there lies a new-slain knight; + And naebody kens that he lies there, + But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair. + + "His hound is to the hunting gane, + His hawk, to fetch the wild-fowl hame, 10 + His lady's ta'en another mate, + So we may mak our dinner sweet. + + "Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane, + And I'll pick out his bonny blue een: + Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair 15 + We'll theek our nest when it grows bare. + + "Mony a one for him makes mane, + But nane sall ken where he is gane: + O'er his white banes, when they are bare, + The wind sall blaw for evermair."-- 20 + + + + +THE DOWIE DENS OF YARROW. + +_Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 143. + + +"This ballad, which is a very great favourite among the inhabitants of +Ettrick Forest, is universally believed to be founded in fact. I found +it easy to collect a variety of copies; but very difficult indeed to +select from them such a collated edition as might, in any degree, suit +the taste of 'these more light and giddy-paced times.' + +"Tradition places the event, recorded in the song, very early; and it is +probable that the ballad was composed soon afterwards, although the +language has been gradually modernized, in the course of its +transmission to us, through the inaccurate channel of oral tradition. +The bard does not relate particulars, but barely the striking outlines +of a fact, apparently so well known when he wrote, as to render minute +detail as unnecessary as it is always tedious and unpoetical. + +"The hero of the ballad was a knight of great bravery, called Scott, who +is said to have resided at Kirkhope, or Oakwood Castle, and is, in +tradition, termed the Baron of Oakwood. The estate of Kirkhope belonged +anciently to the Scotts of Harden: Oakwood is still their property, and +has been so from time immemorial. The Editor was, therefore, led to +suppose that the hero of the ballad might have been identified with John +Scott, sixth son of the Laird of Harden, murdered in Ettrick Forest by +his kinsmen, the Scotts of Gilmanscleugh. (See notes to _Jamie Telfer_.) +This appeared the more probable, as the common people always affirm that +this young man was treacherously slain, and that, in evidence thereof, +his body remained uncorrupted for many years; so that even the roses on +his shoes seemed as fresh as when he was first laid in the family vault +at Hassendean. But from a passage in Nisbet's Heraldry, he now believes +the ballad refers to a duel fought at Deucharswyre, of which Annan's +Treat is a part, betwixt John Scott of Tushielaw and his brother-in-law, +Walter Scott, third son of Robert of Thirlestane, in which the latter +was slain. + +"In ploughing Annan's Treat, a huge monumental stone, with an +inscription, was discovered; but being rather scratched than engraved, +and the lines being run through each other, it is only possible to read +one or two Latin words. It probably records the event of the combat. The +person slain was the male ancestor of the present Lord Napier. + +"Tradition affirms, that the hero of the song (be he who he may) was +murdered by the brother, either of his wife or betrothed bride. The +alleged cause of malice was the lady's father having proposed to endow +her with half of his property, upon her marriage with a warrior of such +renown. The name of the murderer is said to have been Annan, and the +place of combat is still called Annan's Treat. It is a low muir, on the +banks of the Yarrow, lying to the west of Yarrow Kirk. Two tall unhewn +masses of stone are erected, about eighty yards distant from each other; +and the least child, that can herd a cow, will tell the passenger, that +there lie 'the two lords, who were slain in single combat.' + +"It will be, with many readers, the greatest recommendation of these +verses, that they are supposed to have suggested to Mr. Hamilton of +Bangour, the modern ballad, beginning, + + 'Busk ye, busk ye, my bonny bonny bride.' + +"A fragment, apparently regarding the story of the following ballad, but +in a different measure, occurs in Mr. Herd's MS., and runs thus:-- + + 'When I look east, my heart is sair, + But when I look west, it's mair and mair; + For then I see the braes o' Yarrow, + And there, for aye, I lost my marrow.'" + +We have added an uncollated copy from Buchan's _Ballads of the North of +Scotland_. Another is furnished by Motherwell, _Minstrelsy_, p. 252. +Some of Scott's verses are also found in Herd's fragment, (_Scottish +Songs_, i. 202,) and Buchan's _Haughs o' Yarrow_, ii. 211. _The Dowy +Den_, in Evans's collection, iii. 342, is the _caput mortuum_ of this +spirited ballad. + + Late at e'en, drinking the wine, + And ere they paid the lawing, + They set a combat them between, + To fight it in the dawing. + + "O stay at hame, my noble lord, 5 + O stay at hame, my marrow! + My cruel brother will you betray + On the dowie houms of Yarrow."-- + + "O fare ye weel, my ladye gaye! + O fare ye weel, my Sarah! 10 + For I maun gae, though I ne'er return + Frae the dowie banks o' Yarrow." + + She kiss'd his cheek, she kaim'd his hair, + As oft she had done before, O; + She belted him with his noble brand, 15 + And he's away to Yarrow. + + As he gaed up the Tennies bank,[L17] + I wot he gaed wi' sorrow, + Till, down in a den, he spied nine arm'd men, + On the dowie houms of Yarrow. 20 + + "O come ye here to part your land, + The bonnie Forest thorough? + Or come ye here to wield your brand, + On the dowie houms of Yarrow?"-- + + "I come not here to part my land, 25 + And neither to beg nor borrow; + I come to wield my noble brand, + On the bonnie banks of Yarrow. + + "If I see all, ye're nine to ane; + And that's an unequal marrow; 30 + Yet will I fight, while lasts my brand, + On the bonnie banks of Yarrow." + + Four has he hurt, and five has slain, + On the bloody braes of Yarrow, + Till that stubborn knight came him behind, 35 + And ran his body thorough. + + "Gae hame, gae hame, good-brother John, + And tell your sister Sarah, + To come and lift her leafu' lord; + He's sleepin sound on Yarrow."-- 40 + + "Yestreen I dream'd a dolefu' dream; + I fear there will be sorrow! + I dream'd I pu'd the heather green, + Wi' my true love, on Yarrow. + + "O gentle wind, that bloweth south, 45 + From where my love repaireth, + Convey a kiss from his dear mouth, + And tell me how he fareth! + + "But in the glen strive armed men; + They've wrought me dole and sorrow; 50 + They've slain--the comeliest knight they've slain-- + He bleeding lies on Yarrow." + + As she sped down yon high high hill, + She gaed wi' dole and sorrow, + And in the den spied ten slain men, 55 + On the dowie banks of Yarrow. + + She kissed his cheek, she kaim'd his hair, + She searched his wounds all thorough, + She kiss'd them, till her lips grew red, + On the dowie houms of Yarrow. 60 + + "Now haud your tongue, my daughter dear! + For a' this breeds but sorrow; + I'll wed ye to a better lord, + Than him ye lost on Yarrow."-- + + "O haud your tongue, my father dear! 65 + Ye mind me but of sorrow; + A fairer rose did never bloom + Than now lies cropp'd on Yarrow." + +17. _The Tennies_ is the name of a farm of the Duke of Buccleuch's, a +little below Yarrow Kirk. + + + + +THE BRAES O' YARROW. + + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 203. Repeated in +the xviith volume of the Percy Society Publications. + + Ten lords sat drinking at the wine, + Intill a morning early; + There fell a combat them among, + It must be fought,--nae parly. + + "O stay at hame, my ain gude lord, 5 + O stay, my ain dear marrow." + "Sweetest min', I will be thine, + And dine wi' you to-morrow." + + She's kiss'd his lips, and comb'd his hair, + As she had done before, O; 10 + Gied him a brand down by his side, + And he is on to Yarrow. + + As he gaed ower yon dowie knowe, + As aft he'd dune before, O; + Nine armed men lay in a den, 15 + Upo' the braes o' Yarrow. + + "O came ye here to hunt or hawk, + As ye hae dune before, O? + Or came ye here to wiel' your brand, + Upo' the braes o' Yarrow?" 20 + + "I came na here to hunt nor hawk, + As I hae dune before, O; + But I came here to wiel' my brand, + Upon the braes o' Yarrow." + + Four he hurt, and five he slew, 25 + Till down it fell himsell, O; + There stood a fause lord him behin', + Who thrust him thro' body and mell, O. + + "Gae hame, gae hame, my brother John, + And tell your sister sorrow; 30 + Your mother to come take up her son, + Aff o' the braes o' Yarrow." + + As he gaed ower yon high, high hill, + As he had dune before, O; + There he met his sister dear, 35 + Came rinnin fast to Yarrow. + + "I dreamt a dream last night," she says, + "I wish it binna sorrow; + I dreamt I was pu'ing the heather green,[L39] + Upo' the braes o' Yarrow." 40 + + "I'll read your dream, sister," he says, + "I'll read it into sorrow; + Ye're bidden gae take up your love, + He's sleeping sound on Yarrow." + + She's torn the ribbons frae her head, 45 + They were baith thick and narrow; + She's kilted up her green claithing, + And she's awa' to Yarrow. + + She's taen him in her arms twa, + And gien him kisses thorough, 50 + And wi' her tears she bath'd his wounds, + Upo' the braes o' Yarrow. + + Her father looking ower his castle wa', + Beheld his daughter's sorrow; + "O had your tongue, daughter," he says, 55 + "And let be a' your sorrow, + I'll wed you wi' a better lord, + Than he that died on Yarrow." + + "O had your tongue, father," she says, + "And let be till to-morrow; 60 + A better lord there cou'dna be + Than he that died on Yarrow." + + She kiss'd his lips, and comb'd his hair, + As she had dune before, O; + Then wi' a crack her heart did brack, 65 + Upon the braes o' Yarrow. + +39. To dream of any thing green is regarded in Scotland as unlucky. + + + + +SIR JAMES THE ROSE. + + +Pinkerton first published this piece in his _Scottish Tragic Ballads_, +p. 61. In a note, it is said to have been taken "from a modern edition +in one sheet, 12mo. after the old copy." Motherwell gives another +version "as it occurs in early stall prints," (_Minstrelsy_, p. 321,) +and suspects a few conjectural emendations in Pinkerton's text. The +passage from v. 51 to v. 59 is apparently defective, and has, probably, +been tampered with; but Pinkerton's copy is on the whole much better +than Motherwell's, or than Whitelaw's, (_Scottish Ballads_, 39,) which +professes to be given chiefly from oral recitations. + +Michael Bruce's _Sir James the Rose_ will be found in another part of +this collection. In Caw's _Museum_ (p. 290) is a ballad in the worst +possible taste, styled _Elfrida and Sir James of Perth_, which seems to +be a mere disfiguration of Bruce's. + + O heard ye o' Sir James the Rose, + The young heir o' Buleighan? + For he has kill'd a gallant squire, + Whase friends are out to tak him. + + Now he has gane to the house o' Mar, 5 + Whar nane might seik to find him; + To see his dear he did repair, + Weining she wold befreind him. + + "Whar are ye gaing Sir James," she said, + "O whar awa are ye riding?" 10 + "I maun be bound to a foreign land, + And now I'm under hiding. + + "Whar sall I gae, whar sall I rin, + Whar sall I rin to lay me? + For I ha kill'd a gallant squire, 15 + And his friends seik to slay me." + + "O gae ye down to yon laigh house, + I sall pay there your lawing; + And as I am your leman trew, + I'll meet ye at the dawing." 20 + + He turned him richt and round about, + And rowd him in his brechan: + And laid him doun to tak a sleip, + In the lawlands o' Buleighan. + + He was nae weil gane out o' sicht, 25 + Nor was he past Milstrethen, + Whan four and twenty belted knichts + Cam riding owr the Leathen. + + "O ha ye seen Sir James the Rose, + The young heir o' Buleighan? 30 + For he has kill'd a gallant squire, + And we are sent to tak him." + + "Yea, I ha seen Sir James," she said, + "He past by here on Monday; + Gin the steed be swift that he rides on, 35 + He's past the Hichts of Lundie." + + But as wi speid they rade awa, + She leudly cryd behind them; + "Gin ye'll gie me a worthy meid, + I'll tell ye whar to find him." 40 + + "O tell fair maid, and on our band, + Ye'se get his purse and brechan." + "He's in the bank aboon the mill, + In the lawlands o' Buleighan." + + Than out and spak Sir John the Graham, 45 + Who had the charge a keiping, + "It's neer be said, my stalwart feres, + We kill'd him whan a sleiping." + + They seized his braid sword and his targe, + And closely him surrounded: 50 + "O pardon! mercy! gentlemen," + He then fou loudly sounded. + + "Sic as ye gae, sic ye sall hae, + Nae grace we shaw to thee can." + "Donald my man, wait till I fa, 55 + And ye sall hae my brechan; + Ye'll get my purse thouch fou o' gowd + To tak me to Loch Lagan." + + Syne they take out his bleiding heart, + And set it on a speir; 60 + Then tuke it to the house o' Mar, + And shawd it to his deir. + + "We cold nae gie Sir James's purse, + We cold nae gie his brechan; + But ye sall ha his bleeding heart, 65 + Bot and his bleeding tartan." + + "Sir James the Rose, O for thy sake + My heart is now a breaking, + Curs'd be the day I wrocht thy wae, + Thou brave heir of Buleighan!" 70 + + Then up she raise, and furth she gaes, + And, in that hour o' tein, + She wanderd to the dowie glen, + And nevir mair was sein. + + + + +GR[AE]ME AND BEWICK. + + +From _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 69. A single improved +reading is adopted from a Newcastle chap-book. + + "Given, in the first edition, from the recitation of a gentleman, + who professed to have forgotten some verses. These have, in the + present edition, been partly restored, from a copy obtained by the + recitation of an ostler in Carlisle, which has also furnished some + slight alterations." + + "The ballad is remarkable, as containing, probably, the very latest + allusion to the institution of brotherhood in arms, which was held + so sacred in the days of chivalry, and whose origin may be traced up + to the Scythian ancestors of Odin." SCOTT. + + Gude Lord Gr[ae]me is to Carlisle gane, + Sir Robert Bewick there met he, + And arm in arm to the wine they did go, + And they drank till they were baith merrie. + + Gude Lord Gr[ae]me has ta'en up the cup, 5 + "Sir Robert Bewick, and here's to thee! + And here's to our twae sons at hame! + For they like us best in our ain countrie."-- + + "O were your son a lad like mine, + And learn'd some books that he could read, 10 + They might hae been twae brethren bauld, + And they might hae bragged the Border side. + + "But your son's a lad, and he is but bad, + And billie to my son he canna be;" + * * * * + + "I sent him to the schools, and he wadna learn;[L15] 15 + I bought him books, and he wadna read;[L16] + But my blessing shall he never earn, + Till I see how his arm can defend his head."-- + + Gude Lord Gr[ae]me has a reckoning call'd, + A reckoning then called he; 20 + And he paid a crown, and it went roun', + It was all for the gude wine and free.[L22] + + And he has to the stable gane, + Where there stude thirty steeds and three; + He's ta'en his ain horse amang them a', 25 + And hame he rade sae manfullie. + + "Welcome, my auld father!" said Christie Gr[ae]me, + "But where sae lang frae hame were ye?"-- + "It's I hae been at Carlisle town, + And a baffled man by thee I be. 30 + + "I hae been at Carlisle town, + Where Sir Robert Bewick, he met me; + He says ye're a lad, and ye are but bad, + And billie to his son ye canna be. + + "I sent ye to the schools, and ye wadna learn; 35 + I bought ye books, and ye wadna read; + Therefore my blessing ye shall never earn, + Till I see with Bewick thou save thy head." + + "Now, God forbid, my auld father, + That ever sic a thing suld be! 40 + Billie Bewick was my master, and I was his scholar,[L41] + And aye sae weel as he learned me." + + "O hald thy tongue, thou limmer loon, + And of thy talking let me be! + If thou does na end me this quarrel soon, 45 + There is my glove, I'll fight wi' thee." + + Then Christie Gr[ae]me he stooped low + Unto the ground, you shall understand;-- + "O father, put on your glove again, + The wind has blown it from your hand?" 50 + + "What's that thou says, thou limmer loon? + How dares thou stand to speak to me? + If thou do not end this quarrel soon, + There's my right hand thou shalt fight with me."-- + + Then Christie Gr[ae]me's to his chamber gane, 55 + To consider weel what then should be; + Whether he should fight with his auld father, + Or with his billie Bewick, he. + + "If I suld kill my billie dear, + God's blessing I shall never win; 60 + But if I strike at my auld father, + I think 'twald be a mortal sin. + + "But if I kill my billie dear, + It is God's will, so let it be; + But I make a vow, ere I gang frae hame, 65 + That I shall be the next man's die."-- + + Then he's put on's back a gude auld jack, + And on his head a cap of steel, + And sword and buckler by his side; + O gin he did not become them weel! 70 + + We'll leave off talking of Christie Gr[ae]me, + And talk of him again belive; + And we will talk of bonny Bewick, + Where he was teaching his scholars five. + + When he had taught them well to fence, 75 + And handle swords without any doubt, + He took his sword under his arm, + And he walk'd his father's close about. + + He look'd atween him and the sun, + And a' to see what there might be, 80 + Till he spied a man in armour bright, + Was riding that way most hastilie. + + "O wha is yon, that came this way, + Sae hastilie that hither came? + I think it be my brother dear, 85 + I think it be young Christie Gr[ae]me. + + "Ye're welcome here, my billie dear, + And thrice ye're welcome unto me!"-- + "But I'm wae to say, I've seen the day, + When I am come to fight wi' thee. 90 + + "My father's gane to Carlisle town, + Wi' your father Bewick there met he: + He says I'm a lad, and I am but bad, + And a baffled man I trow I be. + + "He sent me to schools, and I wadna learn; 95 + He gae me books, and I wadna read; + Sae my father's blessing I'll never earn, + Till he see how my arm can guard my head." + + "O God forbid, my billie dear, + That ever such a thing suld be! 100 + We'll take three men on either side, + And see if we can our fathers agree." + + "O hald thy tongue, now, billie Bewick, + And of thy talking let me be! + But if thou'rt a man, as I'm sure thou art, 105 + Come o'er the dyke, and fight wi' me." + + "But I hae nae harness, billie, on my back,[L107] + As weel I see there is on thine."-- + "But as little harness as is on thy back, + As little, billie, shall be on mine."-- 110 + + Then he's thrown aff his coat o' mail, + His cap of steel away flung he; + He stuck his spear into the ground, + And he tied his horse unto a tree. + + Then Bewick has thrown aff his cloak, 115 + And's psalter-book frae's hand flung he; + He laid his hand upon the dyke, + And ower he lap most manfullie. + + O they hae fought for twae lang hours; + When twae lang hours were come and gane, 120 + The sweat drapp'd fast frae aff them baith, + But a drap of blude could not be seen. + + Till Gr[ae]me gae Bewick an ackward stroke, + Ane ackward stroke strucken sickerlie; + He has hit him under the left breast, 125 + And dead-wounded to the ground fell he. + + "Rise up, rise up, now, billie dear, + Arise and speak three words to me! + Whether thou's gotten thy deadly wound, + Or if God and good leeching may succour thee?" 130 + + "O horse, O horse, now, billie Gr[ae]me, + And get thee far from hence with speed; + And get thee out of this country, + That none may know who has done the deed."-- + + "O I have slain thee, billie Bewick, 135 + If this be true thou tellest to me; + But I made a vow, ere I came frae hame, + That aye the next man I wad be." + + He has pitch'd his sword in a moodie-hill, + And he has leap'd twenty lang feet and three, 140 + And on his ain sword's point he lap, + And dead upon the ground fell he. + + 'Twas then came up Sir Robert Bewick, + And his brave son alive saw he; + "Rise up, rise up, my son," he said, 145 + "For I think ye hae gotten the victorie." + + "O hald your tongue, my father dear, + Of your prideful talking let me be! + Ye might hae drunken your wine in peace, + And let me and my billie be. 150 + + "Gae dig a grave, baith wide and deep, + And a grave to hald baith him and me; + But lay Christie Gr[ae]me on the sunny side, + For I'm sure he wan the victorie." + + "Alack! a wae!" auld Bewick cried, 155 + "Alack! was I not much to blame? + I'm sure I've lost the liveliest lad + That e'er was born unto my name." + + "Alack! a wae!" quo' gude Lord Gr[ae]me, + "I'm sure I hae lost the deeper lack! 160 + I durst hae ridden the Border through, + Had Christie Gr[ae]me been at my back. + + "Had I been led through Liddesdale, + And thirty horsemen guarding me, + And Christie Gr[ae]me been at my back, 165 + Sae soon as he had set me free! + + "I've lost my hopes, I've lost my joy, + I've lost the key but and the lock; + I durst hae ridden the world round, + Had Christie Gr[ae]me been at my back." 170 + +15, Scott, Ye sent; + +16, Ye bought. + +22. Newcastle C. B., and hay. + +41, 42. + + Shall I venture my body in field to fight + With a man that's faith and troth to me? + + N. C. B. + +107-118. Instead of this passage, the Newcastle copy has the +following stanzas:-- + + He flang his cloak from off his shoulders, + His psalm-book from his pouch flang he, + He clapped his hand upon the hedge, + And o'er lap he right wantonly. + + When Graham did see his bully come, + The salt tears stood long in his ee; + "Now needs must I say thou art a man, + That dare venture thy body to fight with me. + + "Nay, I have a harness on my back; + I know that thou hast none on thine; + But as little as thou hast on thy back, + As little shall there be on mine." + + He flang his jacket from off his back, + His cap of steel from his head flang he; + He's taken his spear into his hand, + He's ty'd his horse unto a tree. + + + + +THE LAMENT OF THE BORDER WIDOW. + +_Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 94. + + +This fragment was obtained from recitation in Ettrick Forest, where it +is said to refer to the execution of Cockburne, of Henderland, a +freebooter, hanged by James V. over the gate of his own tower. There is +another version in Johnson's _Museum_, (_Oh Ono Chrio_, p. 90,) which, +Dr. Blacklock informed Burns, was composed on the massacre of Glencoe. +But in fact, these verses seem to be, as Motherwell has remarked, only a +portion (expanded, indeed,) of _The Famous Flower of Serving Men_: see +vol. iv. p. 174. + +There are some verbal differences between Scott's copy and the one in +Chambers's _Scottish Songs_, i. 174. + + My love he built me a bonny bower, + And clad it a' wi' lilye flour, + A brawer bower ye ne'er did see, + Than my true love he built for me. + + There came a man, by middle day, 5 + He spied his sport, and went away; + And brought the King that very night, + Who brake my bower, and slew my knight. + + He slew my knight, to me sae dear; + He slew my knight, and poin'd his gear; 10 + My servants all for life did flee, + And left me in extremitie. + + I sew'd his sheet, making my mane; + I watch'd the corpse, myself alane; + I watch'd his body, night and day; 15 + No living creature came that way. + + I tuk his body on my back, + And whiles I gaed, and whiles I sat; + I digg'd a grave, and laid him in, + And happ'd him with the sod sae green. 20 + + But think na ye my heart was sair, + When I laid the moul' on his yellow hair; + O think na ye my heart was wae, + When I turn'd about, away to gae? + + Nae living man I'll love again, 25 + Since that my lovely knight is slain; + Wi' ae lock of his yellow hair + I'll chain my heart for ever mair. + + + + +YOUNG WATERS. + + +First published on an octavo sheet, by Lady Jean Home, about the middle +of the last century, and from this copy reprinted in Percy's _Reliques_, +(ii. 227.) Buchan has a version (i. 15) twenty-five stanzas longer than +the present, which is given in our Appendix. This ballad has been +supposed to refer to the fate of the Earl of Murray, (see _post_, _The +Bonny Earl of Murray_.) The additional circumstances furnished by +Buchan's copy, however, have led Chambers to suggest that the +unfortunate hero was Walter Stuart, second son of the Duke of Albany. In +support of his conjecture, he adduces "the name, which may be a +corruption of Walter; the mention of the Heading (beheading) Hill of +Stirling, which is known to have been the very scene of Walter Stuart's +execution; the relationship which Young Waters claims with the king; and +the sympathy expressed by the people, in the last verse, for the fate of +the young knight, which exactly tallies with what is told us by the +Scottish historians, regarding the popular feeling expressed in favour +of the numerous nobles and princes of his own blood, whom the king saw +it necessary to sacrifice." We do not consider these coincidences +sufficient to establish the historical character of the piece. + + About Zule, quhen the wind blew cule, + And the round tables began, + A'! there is cum to our kings court + Mony a well-favourd man. + + The queen luikt owre the castle wa', 5 + Beheld baith dale and down, + And then she saw zoung Waters + Cum riding to the town. + + His footmen they did rin before, + His horsemen rade behind; 10 + Ane mantel of the burning gowd + Did keip him frae the wind. + + Gowden graith'd his horse before, + And siller shod behind; + The horse zoung Waters rade upon 15 + Was fleeter than the wind. + + But then spake a wylie lord, + Unto the queen said he: + "O tell me quha's the fairest face + Rides in the company?" 20 + + "I've sene lord, and I've sene laird, + And knights of high degree, + Bot a fairer face than zoung Waters + Mine eyne did never see." + + Out then spaek the jealous king 25 + (And an angry man was he): + "O if he had been twice as fair, + Zou micht have excepted me." + + "Zou're neither laird nor lord," she says, + "Bot the king that wears the crown; 30 + There is not a knight in fair Scotland, + Bot to thee maun bow down." + + For a' that she could do or say, + Appeasd he wade nae bee; + Bot for the words which she had said, 35 + Zoung Waters he maun dee. + + They hae taen zoung Waters, and + Put fetters to his feet; + They hae taen zoung Waters, and + Thrown him in dungeon deep. 40 + + "Aft I have ridden thro' Stirling town, + In the wind bot and the weit; + Bot I neir rade thro' Stirling town + Wi' fetters at my feet. + + "Aft have I ridden thro' Stirling town, 45 + In the wind bot and the rain; + Bot I neir rade thro' Stirling town + Neir to return again." + + They hae taen to the heiding-hill + His zoung son in his craddle; 50 + And they hae taen to the heiding-hill + His horse bot and his saddle. + + They hae taen to the heiding-hill + His lady fair to see; + And for the words the queen had spoke 55 + Zoung Waters he did dee. + + + + +BONNIE GEORGE CAMPBELL. + +Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 44. + + +This, says Motherwell, "is probably a lament for one of the adherents of +the house of Argyle, who fell in the battle of Glenlivat, stricken on +Thursday, the third day of October, 1594 years." It is printed, somewhat +differently, in Smith's _Scottish Minstrel_, v. 42. Finlay gives eight +lines of this ballad in the Preface to his first volume, p. xxxiii. + + Hie upon Hielands, + And low upon Tay, + Bonnie George Campbell + Rade out on a day. + Saddled and bridled 5 + And gallant rade he; + Hame cam his gude horse, + But never cam he! + + Out cam his auld mither + Greeting fu' sair, 10 + And out cam his bonnie bride + Rivin' her hair. + Saddled and bridled + And booted rade he; + Toom hame cam the saddle, 15 + But never cam he! + + "My meadow lies green, + And my corn is unshorn; + My barn is to big, + And my babie's unborn." 20 + Saddled and bridled + And booted rade he; + Toom hame cam the saddle, + But never cam he! + + + + +LAMKIN. + + +The following is believed to be a correct account of the various printed +forms of this extremely popular ballad. In the second edition of Herd's +_Scottish Songs_ (1776) appeared a fragment of eighteen stanzas, called +_Lammikin_, embellished in a puerile style by some modern hand. Jamieson +published the story in a complete and authentic shape in his _Popular +Ballads_, in 1806. Finlay's collection (1808) furnishes us with two more +copies, the first of which (ii. 47) is made up in part of Herd's +fragment, and the second (ii. 57) taken from a MS. "written by an old +lady." Another was given, from recitation, in Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, +(1827,) with the more intelligible title of _Lambert Linkin_. An English +fragment, called _Long Lonkin_, taken down from the recitation of an old +woman, is said to have been inserted by Miss Landon, in the +_Drawing-Room Scrap-Book_, for 1837. This was republished in +Richardson's _Borderer's Table-Book_, 1846, vol. viii. 410, and the +editor of that miscellany, who ought to have learned to be skeptical in +such matters, urges the circumstantial character of local tradition as +strong evidence that the real scene of the cruel history was in +Northumberland. Lastly, we have to note a version resembling +Motherwell's, styled _Bold Rankin_, printed in _A New Book of Old +Ballads_, (p. 73,) and in Whitelaw's _Book of Scottish Ballads_, (p. +246,) and an imperfect ballad (_Long Lankyn_) in _Notes and Queries_, +New Series, ii. 324. + +We have printed Jamieson's, Motherwell's, the longer of Finlay's +versions, and the English fragment: the last two in the Appendix. The +following is from Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, i. 176. "This piece was +transmitted to the Editor by Mrs. Brown." + + "O pay me now, Lord Wearie; + Come, pay me out o' hand." + "I canna pay you, Lamkin, + Unless I sell my land." + + "O gin ye winna pay me, 5 + I here sall mak a vow, + Before that ye come hame again, + Ye sall ha'e cause to rue." + + Lord Wearie got a bonny ship, + To sail the saut sea faem; 10 + Bade his lady weel the castle keep, + Ay till he should come hame. + + But the nourice was a fause limmer + As e'er hung on a tree; + She laid a plot wi' Lamkin, 15 + Whan her lord was o'er the sea. + + She laid a plot wi' Lamkin, + When the servants were awa'; + Loot him in at a little shot window, + And brought him to the ha'. 20 + + "O whare's a' the men o' this house, + That ca' me Lamkin?" + "They're at the barn well thrashing, + 'Twill be lang ere they come in." + + "And whare's the women o' this house, 25 + That ca' me Lamkin?" + "They're at the far well washing; + 'Twill be lang ere they come in." + + "And whare's the bairns o' this house, + That ca' me Lamkin?" 30 + "They're at the school reading; + 'Twill be night or they come hame." + + O whare's the lady o' this house, + That ca's me Lamkin?" + "She's up in her bower sewing, 35 + But we soon can bring her down." + + Then Lamkin's tane a sharp knife, + That hang down by his gaire, + And he has gi'en the bonny babe + A deep wound and a sair. 40 + + Then Lamkin he rocked, + And the fause nourice sang, + Till frae ilkae bore o' the cradle + The red blood out sprang. + + Then out it spak the lady, 45 + As she stood on the stair, + "What ails my bairn, nourice, + That he's greeting sae sair? + + "O still my bairn, nourice; + O still him wi' the pap!" 50 + "He winna still, lady, + For this, nor for that." + + "O still my bairn, nourice; + "O still him wi' the wand!" + "He winna still, lady, 55 + For a' his father's land." + + "O still my bairn, nourice, + O still him wi' the bell!" + "He winna still, lady, + Till ye come down yoursel." 60 + + O the firsten step she steppit, + She steppit on a stane; + But the neisten step she steppit, + She met him, Lamkin. + + "O mercy, mercy, Lamkin! 65 + Ha'e mercy upon me! + Though you've ta'en my young son's life, + Ye may let mysel be." + + "O sall I kill her, nourice? + Or sall I lat her be?" 70 + "O kill her, kill her, Lamkin, + For she ne'er was good to me." + + "O scour the bason, nourice, + And mak it fair and clean, + For to keep this lady's heart's blood, 75 + For she's come o' noble kin." + + "There need nae bason, Lamkin; + Lat it run through the floor; + What better is the heart's blood + O' the rich than o' the poor?" 80 + + But ere three months were at an end, + Lord Wearie came again; + But dowie dowie was his heart + When first he came hame. + + "O wha's blood is this," he says, 85 + "That lies in the ch[^a]mer?" + "It is your lady's heart's blood; + 'Tis as clear as the lamer." + + "And wha's blood is this," he says, + "That lies in my ha'?" 90 + "It is your young son's heart's blood; + 'Tis the clearest ava." + + O sweetly sang the black-bird + That sat upon the tree; + But sairer grat Lamkin, 95 + When he was condemn'd to die. + + And bonny sang the mavis + Out o' the thorny brake; + But sairer grat the nourice, + When she was tied to the stake. 100 + + + + +LAMBERT LINKIN. + + +"The present copy is given from recitation, and though it could have +received additions, and perhaps improvements, from another copy, +obtained from a similar source, and of equal authenticity, in his +possession, the Editor did not like to use a liberty which is liable to +much abuse. To some, the present set of the ballad may be valuable, as +handing down both name and nickname of the revengeful builder of Prime +Castle; for there can be little doubt that the epithet _Linkin_ Mr. +Lambert acquired from the secrecy and address with which he insinuated +himself into that notable strength. Indeed, all the names of +Lammerlinkin, Lammikin, Lamkin, Lankin, Linkin, Belinkin, can easily be +traced out as abbreviations of Lambert Linkin. In the present set of the +ballad, Lambert Linkin and Belinkin are used indifferently, as the +measure of the verse may require; in the other recited copy, to which +reference has been made, it is Lammerlinkin and Lamkin; and the nobleman +for whom he "built a house" is stated to be "Lord Arran." No allusion, +however, is made here to the name of the owner of Prime Castle. +Antiquaries, peradventure, may find it as difficult to settle the +precise locality of this fortalice, as they have found it to fix the +topography of Troy." Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 291. + +In Finlay's second copy, the murderer's name is Balcanqual, "which," +observes the editor, "is an ancient Scottish surname, and is sometimes +corrupted, for the more agreeable sound, into Beluncan." It is more +likely that Belinkin has suggested Balcanqual, than that Balcanqual has +been corrupted into Lamkin. + + Belinkin was as gude a mason + As e'er pickt a stane; + He built up Prime Castle, + But payment gat nane. + + The lord said to his lady, 5 + When he was going abroad, + "O beware of Belinkin, + For he lyes in the wood." + + The gates they were bolted, + Baith outside and in; 10 + At the sma' peep of a window + Belinkin crap in. + + "Gude morrow, gude morrow," + Said Lambert Linkin. + "Gude morrow to yoursell, sir," 15 + Said the fause nurse to him. + + "O whare is your gude lord?" + Said Lambert Linkin. + "He's awa to New England, + To meet with his king." 20 + + "O where is his auld son?" + Said Lambert Linkin. + "He's awa to buy pearlings, + Gin our lady ly in." + + "Then she'll never wear them," 25 + Said Lambert Linkin. + "And that is nae pity," + Said the fause nurse to him. + + "O where is your lady?" + Said Lambert Linkin. 30 + "She's in her bouir sleepin'," + Said the fause nurse to him. + + "How can we get at her?" + Said Lambert Linkin. + "Stab the babe to the heart 35 + Wi' a silver bo'kin." + + "That wud be a pity," + Said Lambert Linkin. + "Nae pity, nae pity," + Said the fause nurse to him. 40 + + Belinkin he rocked, + And the fause nurse she sang, + Till a' the tores o' the cradle[L43] + Wi' the red blude down ran. + + "O still my babe, nurice, 45 + O still him wi' the knife." + "He'll no be still, lady, + Tho' I lay down my life." + + "O still my babe, nurice, + O still him wi' the kame." 50 + "He'll no be still, lady, + Till his daddy come hame." + + "O still my babe, nurice, + O still him wi' the bell." + "He'll no be still, lady, 55 + Till ye come down yoursell." + + "It's how can I come doun, + This cauld frosty nicht, + Without e'er a coal + Or a clear candle licht?" 60 + + "There's twa smocks in your coffer, + As white as a swan; + Put ane o' them about you, + It will shew you licht doun." + + She took ane o' them about her, 65 + And came tripping doun; + But as soon as she viewed, + Belinkin was in. + + "Gude morrow, gude morrow," + Said Lambert Linkin. 70 + "Gude morrow to yoursell, sir," + Said the lady to him. + + "O save my life, Belinkin, + Till my husband come back, + And I'll gie ye as much red gold 75 + As ye'll haud in your hat." + + "I'll not save your life, lady, + Till your husband come back, + Tho' you wud gie me as much red gold + As I could haud in a sack. 80 + + "Will I kill her?" quo' Belinkin, + "Will I kill her, or let her be?" + "You may kill her," said the fause nurse, + "She was ne'er gude to me; + And ye'll be laird o' the Castle, 85 + And I'll be ladye." + + Then he cut aff her head + Fra her lily breast bane, + And he hung 't up in the kitchen, + It made a' the ha' shine. 90 + + The lord sat in England + A-drinking the wine: + "I wish a' may be weel + Wi' my lady at hame; + For the rings o' my fingers 95 + They're now burst in twain!" + + He saddled his horse, + And he came riding doun; + But as soon as he viewed, + Belinkin was in. 100 + + He hadna weel stepped + Twa steps up the stair, + Till he saw his pretty young son + Lying dead on the floor. + + He hadna weel stepped 105 + Other twa up the stair, + Till he saw his pretty lady + Lying dead in despair. + + He hanged Belinkin + Out over the gate; 110 + And he burnt the fause nurice, + Being under the grate. + +43. _Tores._ The projections or knobs at the corners of +old-fashioned cradles, and the ornamented balls commonly found +surmounting the backs of old chairs. MOTHERWELL. + + + + +THE LAIRD OF WARISTOUN. + + +Jamieson and Kinloch have each published a highly dramatic fragment of +this terrible story. Both of these are here given, and in the Appendix +may be seen Buchan's more extensive, but far less poetical version. With +this last, we have printed Mr. Chambers's account of the events on which +these ballads are founded. + +Jamieson's copy was taken down by Sir Walter Scott, from the recitation +of his mother. _Popular Ballads_, i. 109. + + Down by yon garden green + Sae merrily as she gaes; + She has twa weel-made feet, + And she trips upon her taes. + + She has twa weel-made feet; 5 + Far better is her hand; + She's as jimp in the middle + As ony willow-wand. + + "Gif ye will do my bidding, + At my bidding for to be, 10 + It's I will make you lady + Of a' the lands you see." + + * * * * * + + He spak a word in jest; + Her answer wasna good; + He threw a plate at her face, 15 + Made it a' gush out o' blood. + + She wasna frae her chamber + A step but barely three, + When up and at her richt hand + There stood Man's Enemy. 20 + + "Gif ye will do my bidding, + At my bidding for to be; + I'll learn you a wile + Avenged for to be." + + The Foul Thief knotted the tether; 25 + She lifted his head on hie; + The nourice drew the knot + That gar'd lord Waristoun die. + + Then word is gane to Leith, + Also to Edinburgh town, 30 + That the lady had kill'd the laird, + The laird o' Waristoun. + + * * * * * + + "Tak aff, tak aff my hood, + But lat my petticoat be; + Put my mantle o'er my head; 35 + For the fire I downa see. + + "Now, a' ye gentle maids, + Tak warning now by me, + And never marry ane + But wha pleases your e'e. 40 + + "For he married me for love, + But I married him for fee; + And sae brak out the feud + That gar'd my dearie die." + + + + +LAIRD OF WARIESTOUN. + +Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 53. + + + It was at dinner as they sat, + And when they drank the wine, + How happy were the laird and lady + Of bonnie Wariestoun. + + The lady spak but ae word, 5 + The matter to conclude; + The laird strak her on the mouth, + Till she spat out o' blude. + + She did not know the way + Her mind to satisfy, 10 + Till evil cam into her head + All by the Enemy. + + * * * * * * * + + "At evening when ye sit + And when ye drink the wine, + See that ye fill the glass well up 15 + To the laird o' Wariestoun." + + * * * * * * + + So at table as they sat, + And when they drank the wine, + She made the glass aft gae round + To the laird o' Wariestoun. 20 + + The nurice she knet the knot, + And O she knet it sicker; + The ladie did gie it a twig, + Till it began to wicker. + + But word has gane doun to Leith, 25 + And up to Embro toun, + That the lady she has slain the laird, + The laird o' Wariestoun. + + Word's gane to her father, the great Duniepace, + And an angry man was he; 30 + Cries, "Fy! gar mak a barrel o' pikes, + And row her doun some brae." + + She said, "Wae be to ye, Wariestoun, + I wish ye may sink for ain; + For I hae been your gudwife 35 + These nine years, running ten; + And I never loved ye sae weill + As now when you're lying slain." + + * * * * * + + "But tak aff this gowd brocade, + And let my petticoat be, 40 + And tie a handkerchief round my face, + That the people may not see." + + + + +THE QUEEN'S MARIE. + + +Of this affecting ballad different editions have appeared in Scott's +_Minstrelsy_, Sharpe's _Ballad Book_, p. 18, Kinloch's _Scottish +Ballads_, and Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_. There is also a fragment in +Maidment's _North Countrie Garland_, which has been reprinted in +Buchan's _Gleanings_, p. 164, and a very inferior version, with a +different catastrophe, in Buchan's larger collection, (ii. 190,) called +_Warenston and the Duke of York's Daughter_. Kinloch's copy may be found +with Maidment's fragment, in the Appendix to this volume: Motherwell's +immediately after the present. + +Sir Walter Scott conceives the ballad to have had its foundation in an +event which took place early in the reign of Mary Stuart, described by +Knox as follows: "In the very time of the General Assembly, there comes +to public knowledge a haynous murther, committed in the court; yea, not +far from the Queen's lap; for a French woman, that served in the Queen's +chamber, had played the whore with the Queen's own apothecary. The woman +conceived and bare a childe, whom, with common consent, the father and +mother murthered; yet were the cries of a new-borne childe hearde, +searche was made, the childe and the mother were both apprehended, and +so were the man and the woman condemned to be hanged in the publicke +street of Edinburgh. The punishment was suitable, because the crime was +haynous. But yet was not the court purged of whores and whoredoms, which +was the fountaine of such enormities: for it was well known that shame +hasted marriage betwixt John Sempill, called the Dancer, and Mary +Levingston, sirnamed the Lusty. What bruit the Maries, and the rest of +the dancers of the court had, _the ballads of that age_ doe witnesse, +which we for modestie's sake omit. KNOX'S _History of the Reformation_, +p. 373. + +"Such," Sir Walter goes on to say, "seems to be the subject of the +following ballad, as narrated by the stern apostle of Presbytery. It +will readily strike the reader, that the tale has suffered great +alterations, as handed down by tradition; the French waiting woman being +changed into Mary Hamilton, and the Queen's apothecary into Henry +Darnley. Yet this is less surprising, when we recollect, that one of the +heaviest of the Queen's complaints against her ill-fated husband, was +his infidelity, and that even with her personal attendants." + +Satisfactorily as the circumstances of Knox's story may agree with those +of the ballads, a coincidence no less striking, and extending even to +the name, is presented by an incident which occurred at the court of +Peter the Great. "During the reign of the Czar Peter," observes Mr. C. +K. Sharpe, "one of his Empress's attendants, a Miss Hamilton, was +executed for the murder of a natural child,--not her first crime in that +way, as was suspected; and the Emperor, whose admiration of her beauty +did not preserve her life, stood upon the scaffold till her head was +struck off, which he lifted by the ears and kissed on the lips. I cannot +help thinking that the two stories have been confused in the ballad; +for, if Marie Hamilton was executed in Scotland, it is not likely that +her relations resided beyond seas; and we have no proof that Hamilton +was really the name of the woman who made the slip with the Queen's +apothecary." + +Scott's edition of _Mary Hamilton_, (the first ever published,) was made +up by him, from various copies. See _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, +iii. 294. + + Marie Hamilton's to the kirk gane, + Wi' ribbons in her hair; + The King thought mair o' Marie Hamilton, + Than ony that were there. + + Marie Hamilton's to the kirk gane, 5 + Wi' ribbons on her breast; + The King thought mair o' Marie Hamilton, + Than he listen'd to the priest. + + Marie Hamilton's to the kirk gane, + Wi' gloves upon her hands; 10 + The King thought mair o' Marie Hamilton, + Than the Queen and a' her lands. + + She hadna been about the King's court + A month, but barely one, + Till she was beloved by a' the King's court, 15 + And the King the only man. + + She hadna been about the King's court + A month, but barely three, + Till frae the King's court Marie Hamilton, + Marie Hamilton durstna be. 20 + + The King is to the Abbey gane, + To pu' the Abbey tree, + To scale the babe frae Marie's heart; + But the thing it wadna be. + + O she has row'd it in her apron, 25 + And set it on the sea,-- + "Gae sink ye, or swim ye, bonny babe, + Ye's get nae mair o' me."-- + + Word is to the kitchen gane, + And word is to the ha', 30 + And word is to the noble room, + Amang the ladyes a', + That Marie Hamilton's brought to bed, + And the bonny babe's mist and awa'. + + Scarcely had she lain down again, 35 + And scarcely fa'en asleep, + When up then started our gude Queen, + Just at her bed-feet; + Saying--"Marie Hamilton, where's your babe? + For I am sure I heard it greet."-- 40 + + "O no, O no, my noble Queen! + Think no such thing to be; + 'Twas but a stitch into my side, + And sair it troubles me."-- + + "Get up, get up, Marie Hamilton: 45 + Get up and follow me; + For I am going to Edinburgh town, + A rich wedding for to see."-- + + O slowly, slowly raise she up, + And slowly put she on; 50 + And slowly rode she out the way, + Wi' mony a weary groan. + + The Queen was clad in scarlet, + Her merry maids all in green; + And every town that they cam to, 55 + They took Marie for the Queen. + + "Ride hooly, hooly, gentlemen, + Ride hooly now wi' me! + For never, I am sure, a wearier burd + Rade in your cumpanie."-- 60 + + But little wist Marie Hamilton, + When she rade on the brown, + That she was ga'en to Edinburgh town, + And a' to be put down. + + "Why weep ye so, ye burgess wives, 65 + Why look ye so on me? + O I am going to Edinburgh town, + A rich wedding for to see."-- + + When she gaed up the tolbooth stairs, + The corks frae her heels did flee; 70 + And lang or e'er she cam down again, + She was condemn'd to die. + + When she cam to the Netherbow port,[L73] + She laughed loud laughters three; + But when she cam to the gallows foot, 75 + The tears blinded her ee. + + "Yestreen the Queen had four Maries, + The night she'll hae but three; + There was Marie Seaton, and Marie Beaton, + And Marie Carmichael, and me.[L80] 80 + + "O often have I dress'd my Queen, + And put gold upon her hair; + But now I've gotten for my reward + The gallows to be my share. + + "Often have I dress'd my Queen, 85 + And often made her bed; + But now I've gotten for my reward + The gallows tree to tread. + + "I charge ye all, ye mariners, + When ye sail ower the faem, 90 + Let neither my father nor mother get wit, + But that I'm coming hame. + + "I charge ye all, ye mariners, + That sail upon the sea, + Let neither my father nor mother get wit 95 + This dog's death I'm to die. + + "For if my father and mother got wit, + And my bold brethren three, + O mickle wad be the gude red blude + This day wad be spilt for me! 100 + + "O little did my mother ken, + That day she cradled me, + The lands I was to travel in, + Or the death I was to die!" + +73. The Netherbow port was the gate which divided the city of Edinburgh +from the suburb, called the Canongate. S. + +80. The Queen's Maries were four young ladies of the highest families in +Scotland, who were sent to France in her train, and returned with her to +Scotland. Keith gives us their names, p. 55. "The young Queen, Mary, +embarked at Dunbarton for France, ... and with her went ... and four +young virgins, all of the name of Mary, viz. Livingston, Fleming, +Seatoun, and Beatoun." Neither Mary Livingston, nor Mary Fleming, are +mentioned in the ballad; nor are the Mary Hamilton, and Mary Carmichael, +of the ballad, mentioned by Keith. But if this corps continued to +consist of young virgins, as when originally raised, it could hardly +have subsisted without occasional recruits; especially if we trust our +old bard, and John Knox. + +The Queen's Maries are mentioned in many ballads, and the name seems to +have passed into a general denomination for female attendants.--SCOTT. + + + + +MARY HAMILTON. + +From Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 311. + + +"In this set of the ballad, from its direct allusion to the use of the +Savin-tree, a clue is, perhaps, afforded for tracing how the poor +mediciner mentioned by Knox should be implicated in the crime of Mary +Hamilton. It may also be noted as a feature in this version of the +ballad, which does not occur in any heretofore printed, the unfortunate +heroine's proud and indignant spurning at life after her character had +been tainted by the infamy of a sentence of condemnation. In another +copy of the ballad, also obtained from recitation, this sentiment is, +perhaps, still more forcibly expressed; at any rate, it is more +appropriate as being addressed to the King. The whole concluding verses +of this copy, differing as they somewhat do from the version adopted for +a text, it has been thought worth while to preserve. + + "But bring to me a cup," she says, + "A cup bot and a can, + And I will drink to all my friends, + And they'll drink to me again. + Here's to you, all travellers, + Who travel by land or sea; + Let na wit to my father nor mother + The death that I must die. + Here's to you, all travellers, + That travel on dry land; + Let na wit to my father or mother + But I am coming hame. + O little did my mother think, + First time she cradled me, + What land I was to travel on, + Or what death I would die. + O little did my mother think, + First time she tied my head, + What land I was to tread upon, + Or whare I would win my bread. + Yestreen Queen Mary had four Maries; + This night she'll hae but three; + She had Mary Seaton, and Mary Beaton, + And Mary Carmichael, and me. + Yestreen I wush Queen Mary's feet, + And bore her till her bed; + This day she's given me my reward, + The gallows tree to tread. + Cast aff, cast aff my gown," she said, + "But let my petticoat be; + And tye a napkin on my face, + For that gallows I downa see." + By and cam the King himsell, + Look'd up wi' a pitiful ee: + "Come down, come down, Mary Hamilton; + This day thou wilt dine with me." + "Hold your tongue, my sovereign liege, + And let your folly be; + An ye had had a mind to save my life, + Ye should na hae shamed me here!" + +"The copy of the ballad from which the above extract is given, begins +with this verse: + + "There were three ladies, they lived in a bower, + And O but they were fair; + The youngest o' them is to the King's court, + To learn some unco lair." + +"There is another version in which the heroine is named Mary Myles, or +Myle; but Myle is probably a corruption of the epithet 'mild,' which +occurs in the fragment given in the _North Countrie Garland_." +MOTHERWELL. + + There lived a knight into the North, + And he had daughters three: + The ane of them was a barber's wife, + The other a gay ladie; + + And the youngest o' them to Scotland is gane 5 + The Queen's Mary to be; + And for a' that they could say or do, + Forbidden she wouldna be. + + The prince's bed it was sae saft, + The spices they were sae fine, 10 + That out of it she could not lye + While she was scarce fifteen. + + She's gane to the garden gay + To pu' of the savin tree; + But for a' that she could say or do, 15 + The babie it would not die. + + She's rowed it in her handkerchief, + She threw it in the sea: + Says,--"Sink ye, swim ye, my bonnie babe, + For ye'll get nae mair of me." 20 + + Queen Mary came tripping down the stair, + Wi' the gold strings in her hair: + "O whare's the little babie," she says, + "That I heard greet sae sair?" + + "O hald your tongue, Queen Mary, my dame, 25 + Let all those words go free; + It was mysell wi' a fit o' the sair colic, + I was sick just like to die." + + "O hald your tongue, Mary Hamilton, + Let all those words go free; 30 + O where is the little babie + That I heard weep by thee?" + + "I rowed it in my handkerchief, + And threw it in the sea; + I bade it sink, I bade it swim, 35 + It would get nae mair o' me." + + "O wae be to thee, Mary Hamilton, + And an ill deid may you die; + For if you had saved the babie's life, + It might hae been an honour to thee. 40 + + "Busk ye, busk ye, Mary Hamilton, + O busk ye to be a bride; + For I am going to Edinburgh town + Your gay wedding to bide. + + "You must not put on your robes of black, 45 + Nor yet your robes of brown; + But you must put on your yellow gold stuffs, + To shine thro' Edinburgh town." + + "I will not put on my robes of black, + Nor yet my robes of brown; 50 + But I will put on my yellow gold stuffs, + To shine thro' Edinburgh town." + + As she went up the Parliament Close, + A riding on her horse, + There she saw many a burgess' lady 55 + Sit greeting at the cross. + + "O what means a' this greeting? + I'm sure it's nae for me; + For I'm come this day to Edinburgh town, + Weel wedded for to be." 60 + + When she gade up the Parliament stair, + She gied loud lauchters three; + But ere that she had come down again, + She was condemned to die. + + "O little did my mother think, 65 + The day she prinned my gown, + That I was to come sae far frae hame + To be hanged in Edinburgh town. + + "O what'll my poor father think, + As he comes through the town, 70 + To see the face of his Molly fair + Hanging on the gallows pin? + + "Here's a health to the mariners + That plough the raging main; + Let neither my mother nor father ken 75 + But I'm coming hame again. + + "Here's a health to the sailors + That sail upon the sea; + Let neither my mother nor father ken + That I came here to die. 80 + + "Yestreen the Queen had four Maries, + This night she'll hae but three; + There was Mary Beaton, and Mary Seaton, + And Mary Carmichael and me." + + "O hald your tongue, Mary Hamilton, 85 + Let all those words go free; + This night ere ye be hanged + Ye shall gang hame wi' me." + + "O hald your tongue, Queen Mary, my dame, + Let all those words go free; 90 + Since I have come to Edinburgh town, + It's hanged I shall be; + For it shall ne'er be said that in your court + I was condemned to die." + + + + +BESSIE BELL AND MARY GRAY. + + +From Lyle's _Ancient Ballads and Songs_, p. 160, where it was printed as +collated "from the singing of two aged persons, one of them a native of +Perthshire." There are two versions slightly differing from the +present;--one in Cunningham's _Songs of Scotland_, iii. 60, obtained +from Sir Walter Scott, and another in Mr. Kirkpatrick Sharpe's _Ballad +Book_, p. 62. + +Allan Ramsay wrote a song with the same title, beginning with the first +stanza of the ballad, (_Tea Table Miscellany_, i. 70.) + +The story of the unfortunate heroines is thus given by Chambers: "Bessie +Bell and Mary Gray were the daughters of two country gentlemen in the +neighborhood of Perth; and an intimate friendship subsisted between +them. Bessie Bell, daughter of the Laird of Kinnaird, happening to be on +a visit to Mary Gray, at her father's house of Lynedoch, when the plague +of 1666 broke out, to avoid the infection, the two young ladies built +themselves a bower in a very retired and romantic spot, called the +Burn-braes, about three quarters of a mile westward from Lynedoch House; +where they resided for some time, supplied with food, it is said, by a +young gentleman of Perth, who was in love with them both. The disease +was unfortunately communicated to them by their lover, and proved fatal; +when, according to custom in cases of the plague, they were not buried +in the ordinary parochial place of sepulture, but in a sequestered spot, +called the Dronach Haugh, at the foot of a brae of the same name, upon +the banks of the River Almond." + + O Bessy Bell an' Mary Gray, + They were twa bonnie lassies; + They biggit a house on yon burn-brae, + An' theekit it o'er wi' rashes. + + They theekit it o'er wi' birk and brume, 5 + They theekit it o'er wi' heather, + Till the pest cam frae the neib'rin town + An' streekit them baith thegither. + + They were na' buried in Meffen kirk-yard, + Amang the rest o' their kin; 10 + But they were buried by Dornoch haugh, + On the bent before the sun. + + Sing, Bessy Bell an' Mary Gray, + They were twa bonnie lasses, + Wha' biggit a bower on yon burn-brae, 15 + An' theekit it o'er wi' thrashes. + + + + +THE CHILDREN IN THE WOOD. + + +_The Children in the Wood_ is perhaps the most popular of all English +ballads. Its merit is attested by the favor it has enjoyed with so many +generations, and was vindicated to a cold and artificial age by the +kindly pen of Addison. The editor of the _Reliques_ thought that the +subject was taken from an old play, published in 1601, "of a young child +murthered in a wood by two ruffins, with the consent of his unkle," but +Ritson discovered that the ballad was entered in the Stationers' +Registers in 1595. The plot of the play was undoubtedly derived from the +Italian, and the author of the ballad may have taken a hint from the +same source. + +Percy's edition, (_Reliques_, iii. 218,) which we have adopted, was +printed from two old copies, one of them in black-letter, in the Pepys +collection. The full title is, _The Children in the Wood, or, The +Norfolk Gentleman's Last Will and Testament_. _To the Tune of Rogero_, +&c. Copies slightly varying from Percy's may be seen in _A Collection of +Old Ballads_, (1723,) i. 221; Ritson's _Ancient Songs_, ii. 150; _The +Book of British Ballads_, p. 13; and Moore's _Pictorial Book of Ancient +Ballad Poetry_, p. 263. + + Now ponder well, you parents deare, + These wordes which I shall write; + A doleful story you shall heare, + In time brought forth to light. + A gentleman of good account 5 + In Norfolke dwelt of late, + Who did in honour far surmount + Most men of his estate. + + Sore sicke he was, and like to dye, + No helpe his life could save; 10 + His wife by him as sicke did lye, + And both possest one grave. + No love between these two was lost, + Each was to other kinde; + In love they liv'd, in love they dyed, 15 + And left two babes behinde: + + The one a fine and pretty boy, + Not passing three yeares olde; + The other a girl more young than he, + And fram'd in beautyes molde. 20 + The father left his little son, + As plainlye doth appeare, + When he to perfect age should come, + Three hundred poundes a yeare. + + And to his little daughter Jane 25 + Five hundred poundes in gold, + To be paid downe on marriage-day, + Which might not be controll'd: + But if the children chance to dye, + Ere they to age should come, 30 + Their uncle should possesse their wealth; + For so the wille did run. + + "Now, brother," said the dying man, + "Look to my children deare; + Be good unto my boy and girl, 35 + No friendes else have they here: + To God and you I recommend + My children deare this daye; + But little while be sure we have + Within this world to staye. 40 + + "You must be father and mother both, + And uncle all in one; + God knowes what will become of them, + When I am dead and gone." + With that bespake their mother deare, 45 + "O brother kinde," quoth shee, + "You are the man must bring our babes + To wealth or miserie: + + "And if you keep them carefully, + Then God will you reward; 50 + But if you otherwise should deal, + God will your deedes regard." + With lippes as cold as any stone, + They kist their children small: + "God bless you both, my children deare;" 55 + With that the teares did fall. + + These speeches then their brother spake + To this sicke couple there: + "The keeping of your little ones, + Sweet sister, do not feare. 60 + God never prosper me nor mine, + Nor aught else that I have, + If I do wrong your children deare, + When you are layd in grave." + + The parents being dead and gone, 65 + The children home he takes, + And bringes them straite unto his house, + Where much of them he makes. + He had not kept these pretty babes + A twelvemonth and a daye, 70 + But, for their wealth, he did devise + To make them both awaye. + + He bargain'd with two ruffians strong, + Which were of furious mood, + That they should take these children young, 75 + And slaye them in a wood. + He told his wife an artful tale. + He would the children send + To be brought up in faire London, + With one that was his friend. 80 + + Away then went those pretty babes, + Rejoycing at that tide, + Rejoycing with a merry minde, + They should on cock-horse ride. + They prate and prattle pleasantly, 85 + As they rode on the waye, + To those that should their butchers be, + And work their lives decaye: + + So that the pretty speeche they had, + Made Murder's heart relent: 90 + And they that undertooke the deed, + Full sore did now repent. + Yet one of them more hard of heart, + Did vowe to do his charge, + Because the wretch, that hired him, 95 + Had paid him very large. + + The other won't agree thereto, + So here they fall to strife; + With one another they did fight, + About the childrens life: 100 + And he that was of mildest mood, + Did slaye the other there, + Within an unfrequented wood; + The babes did quake for feare! + + He took the children by the hand, 105 + Teares standing in their eye, + And bad them straitwaye follow him, + And look they did not crye: + And two long miles he ledd them on, + While they for food complaine: 110 + "Staye here," quoth he, "I'll bring you bread, + When I come back againe." + + These pretty babes, with hand in hand, + Went wandering up and downe; + But never more could see the man 115 + Approaching from the towne: + Their prettye lippes with blackberries, + Were all besmear'd and dyed, + And when they sawe the darksome night, + They sat them downe and cryed. 120 + + Thus wandered these poor innocents, + Till deathe did end their grief, + In one anothers armes they died, + As wanting due relief: + No burial this pretty pair[L125] 125 + Of any man receives, + Till Robin-red-breast piously + Did cover them with leaves. + + And now the heavy wrathe of God + Upon their uncle fell; 130 + Yea, fearfull fiends did haunt his house, + His conscience felt an hell; + His barnes were fir'd, his goodes consum'd, + His landes were barren made, + His cattle dyed within the field, 135 + And nothing with him stayd. + + And in the voyage of Portugal[L137] + Two of his sonnes did dye; + And to conclude, himselfe was brought + To want and miserye: 140 + He pawn'd and mortgaged all his land + Ere seven years came about, + And now at length this wicked act + Did by this meanes come out: + + The fellowe, that did take in hand 145 + These children for to kill, + Was for a robbery judg'd to dye, + Such was God's blessed will: + Who did confess the very truth, + As here hath been display'd: 150 + Their uncle having dyed in gaol, + Where he for debt was layd. + + You that executors be made, + And overseers eke + Of children that be fatherless, 155 + And infants mild and meek; + Take you example by this thing, + And yield to each his right, + Lest God with such like miserye + Your wicked minds requite. + +125, these ... babes, PP. + +137. "A. D. 1588. Dr. Percy, not knowing that the text alludes to a +particular event, has altered it to _a_ voyage _to_ Portugal." RITSON. + + + + +HUGH OF LINCOLN. + + +In the year 1255, we are told by Matthew Paris, in his account of the +reign of Henry III., the Jews of Lincoln stole a boy, named Hugh, of the +age of eight years, whom, after torturing for ten days, they crucified +before a large council of their people, in contempt of the death of the +founder of Christianity. The boy was sought by his mother in the house +of a Jew, which he had been seen to enter, and his body was found in a +pit. The occupant of the house being seized, acknowledged the crime, and +avowed, besides, that the like was committed nearly every year by his +nation. Notwithstanding the promise of impunity by which this confession +had been obtained, the wretch who made it was tied to the tail of a +horse and dragged to the gallows, and after a judicial investigation, +eighteen of the richest and most distinguished Jews in Lincoln were +hanged for participation in the murder, while many more were detained as +prisoners in the Tower of London. On the other hand, the body of the +child was buried with the honors of a martyr in Lincoln Cathedral, where +a construction, assumed without reason to be his tomb, is still shown. +The remains of a young person, found near this spot in 1791, were at +once taken for granted to be those of the sainted infant, and drawings +were made of the relics, which may be seen among the works of the artist +Grimm in the British Museum. + +Several stories of the same tenor are reported by the English +chroniclers. It may be doubted whether there is a grain of truth in any +of them, although it would be no wonder if the atrocious injuries +inflicted on the Jews should, in an instance or two, have provoked a +bloody retaliation, even from that tribe whose badge has always been +sufferance. The annual sacrifice of a Christian child, in mockery of the +crucifixion of Jesus, is on a par for credibility with the miracles +which are said to have followed the death of those innocents. + +The exquisite tale which Chaucer has put into the mouth of the Prioress +exhibits nearly the same incidents as the following ballad. The legend +of Hugh of Lincoln was widely famous. Michel has published an +Anglo-Norman ballad, (_Hugo de Lincolnia_,) on the subject, which +appears to be almost contemporary with the event recorded by Matthew +Paris, and is certainly of the times of Henry III. The versions of the +English ballad are quite numerous. We give here those of Percy, Herd, +and Jamieson, and two others in the Appendix. Besides these, fragments +have been printed in Sir Egerton Brydges's _Restituta_, i. 381, +Halliwell's _Ballads and Poems respecting Hugh of Lincoln_, (1849,) and +in _Notes and Queries_, vol. viii. 614, ix. 320, xii. 496. The most +complete of all the versions is to be found in the new edition of the +_Musical Museum_, vol. iv. p. 500; but that copy is evidently made up +from others previously published. See, for a collection of most of the +poetry, and of much curious information on the imputed cruelties of the +Jews, Michel's _Hugues de Lincoln_, and Hume's _Sir Hugh of Lincoln_. +The whole subject is critically examined in the _London Athen[ae]um_ for +Dec. 15, 1849. + +"The text of the following edition has been given _verbatim_, as the +editor took it down from Mrs. Brown's recitation; and in it two +circumstances are preserved, which are neither to be found in any of the +former editions, nor in any of the chronicles in which the transaction +is recorded; but which are perfectly in the character of those times, +and tend to enhance the miracles to which the discovery is attributed. +The first of these is, that, in order that the whole of this infamous +sacrifice might be of a piece, and every possible outrage shown to +Christianity, the Jews threw the child's body into a well dedicated to +the Virgin Mary; and tradition says, that it was 'through the might of +Our Ladie,' that the dead body was permitted to speak, and to reveal the +horrid story to the disconsolate mother. The other is, the voluntary +ringing of the bells, &c., at his funeral. The sound of consecrated +bells was supposed to have a powerful effect in driving away evil +spirits, appeasing storms, &c., and they were believed to be inspired +with sentiments and perceptions which were often manifested in a very +miraculous manner." JAMIESON'S _Popular Ballads_, i. 139-156. + + Four and twenty bonny boys + Were playing at the ba'; + And by it came him, sweet Sir Hugh, + And he play'd o'er them a'. + + He kick'd the ba' with his right foot, 5 + And catch'd it wi' his knee; + And throuch-and-thro' the Jew's window, + He gar'd the bonny ba' flee. + + He's doen him to the Jew's castell, + And walk'd it round about; 10 + And there he saw the Jew's daughter + At the window looking out. + + "Throw down the ba', ye Jew's daughter, + Throw down the ba' to me!" + "Never a bit," says the Jew's daughter, 15 + "Till up to me come ye." + + "How will I come up? How can I come up? + How can I come to thee? + For as ye did to my auld father, + The same ye'll do to me." 20 + + She's gane till her father's garden, + And pu'd an apple, red and green; + 'Twas a' to wyle him, sweet Sir Hugh, + And to entice him in. + + She's led him in through ae dark door, 25 + And sae has she thro' nine; + She's laid him on a dressing table, + And stickit him like a swine. + + And first came out the thick, thick blood, + And syne came out the thin; 30 + And syne came out the bonny heart's blood; + There was nae mair within. + + She's row'd him in a cake o' lead, + Bade him lie still and sleep; + She's thrown him in Our Lady's draw well, 35 + Was fifty fathom deep. + + When bells were rung, and mass was sung, + And a' the bairns came hame, + When every lady gat hame her son, + The Lady Maisry gat nane. 40 + + She's ta'en her mantle her about, + Her coffer by the hand; + And she's gane out to seek her son, + And wander'd o'er the land. + + She's doen her to the Jew's castell, 45 + Where a' were fast asleep; + "Gin ye be there, my sweet Sir Hugh, + I pray you to me speak." + + She's doen her to the Jew's garden, + Thought he had been gathering fruit; 50 + "Gin ye be there, my sweet Sir Hugh, + I pray you to me speak." + + She near'd Our Lady's deep draw-well, + Was fifty fathom deep; + "Whare'er ye be, my sweet Sir Hugh, 55 + I pray you to me speak." + + "Gae hame, gae hame, my mither dear; + Prepare my winding sheet; + And, at the back o' merry Lincoln, + The morn I will you meet." 60 + + Now Lady Maisry is gane hame; + Made him a winding sheet; + And, at the back o' merry Lincoln, + The dead corpse did her meet. + + And a' the bells o' merry Lincoln, 65 + Without men's hands were rung; + And a' the books o' merry Lincoln, + Were read without man's tongue; + And ne'er was such a burial + Sin Adam's days begun. 70 + + + + +SIR HUGH. + +From Herd's _Scottish Songs_, i. 157. + + + A' the boys of merry Linkim + War playing at the ba', + An up it stands him sweet Sir Hugh, + The flower among them a'. + + He keppit the ba' than wi' his foot, 5 + And catcht it wi' his knee, + And even in at the Jew's window, + He gart the bonny ba' flee. + + "Cast out the ba' to me, fair maid, + Cast out the ba' to me." 10 + "Ah never a bit of it," she says, + "Till ye come up to me. + + "Come up, sweet Hugh, come up, dear Hugh, + Come up and get the ba';" + "I winna come, I mayna come, 15 + Without my bonny boys a'." + + "Come up, sweet Hugh, come up, dear Hugh, + Come up and speak to me;" + "I mayna come, I winna come, + Without my bonny boys three." 20 + + She's taen her to the Jew's garden, + Whar the grass grew lang and green, + She's pu'd an apple red and white, + To wyle the bonny boy in. + + She's wyled him in through ae chamber, 25 + She's wyled him in through twa, + She's wyled him in till her ain chamber, + The flower out owr them a'. + + She's laid him on a dressin board, + Whar she did often dine; 30 + She stack a penknife to his heart, + And dress'd him like a swine. + + She row'd him in a cake of lead, + Bade him ly still and sleep, + She threw him i' the Jew's draw-well, 35 + It was fifty fathom deep. + + Whan bells were rung, and mass was sung, + And a' man bound to bed, + Every lady got home her son, + But sweet Sir Hugh was dead. + + + + +THE JEW'S DAUGHTER. + + +From Percy's _Reliques_, i. 40; printed from a manuscript copy sent from +Scotland. + +Mirryland toune is a corruption of Merry Lincoln, and not, as Percy +conjectured, of Mailand (Milan) town. In Motherwell's copy we have +Maitland town. + + The rain rins doun through Mirry-land toune, + Sae dois it doune the Pa: + Sae dois the lads of Mirry-land toune, + Quhan they play at the ba'. + + Than out and cam the Jewis dochter, 5 + Said, "Will ye cum in and dine?" + "I winnae cum in, I cannae cum in, + Without my play-feres nine." + + Scho powd an apple reid and white, + To intice the zong thing in: 10 + Scho powd an apple white and reid, + And that the sweit bairne did win. + + And scho has taine out a little pen-knife, + And low down by her gair; + Scho has twin'd the zong thing and his life; 15 + A word he nevir spak mair. + + And out and cam the thick thick bluid, + And out and cam the thin; + And out and cam the bonny herts bluid: + Thair was nae life left in. 20 + + Scho laid him on a dressing borde, + And drest him like a swine, + And laughing said, "Gae nou and pley + With zour sweit play-feres nine." + + Scho rowd him in a cake of lead, 25 + Bade him lie stil and sleip; + Scho cast him in a deip draw-well, + Was fifty fadom deip. + + Quhan bells wer rung, and mass was sung, + And every lady went hame, 30 + Then ilka lady had her zong sonne, + Bot Lady Helen had nane. + + Scho rowd hir mantil hir about, + And sair sair gan she weip, + And she ran into the Jewis cast[e']l, 35 + Quhan they wer all asleip. + + "My bonny Sir Hew, my pretty Sir Hew, + I pray thee to me speik:" + "O lady, rinn to the deip draw-well, + Gin ze zour sonne wad seik." 40 + + Lady Helen ran to the deip draw-well, + And knelt upon her kne: + "My bonny Sir Hew, and ze be here, + I pray thee speik to me." + + "The lead is wondrous heavy, mither, 45 + The well is wondrous deip; + A keen pen-knife sticks in my hert, + A word I dounae speik. + + "Gae hame, gae hame, my mither deir, + Fetch me my windling sheet, 50 + And at the back o' Mirry-land toun, + Its thair we twa sall meet." + + + + +SIR PATRICK SPENCE. + +From Percy's _Reliques_, i. 81. + + +The event upon which this ballad is founded, if it has been rightly +ascertained, belongs to a remote period in Scottish history. Margaret, +the daughter of Alexander III., was, in the year 1281, betrothed to +Eric, prince of Norway. The bride was conducted to her husband by a +splendid convoy of knights and nobles, and in the month of August was +crowned queen. In returning from the celebration of the nuptials, many +of the Scottish escort were lost at sea, and among those who perished +was Sir Patrick Spence, we are to suppose. + +It is in conformity with this view of the origin of the ballad, (the +suggestion of Motherwell,) that in Buchan's version the object of the +voyage is said to be to take the king's daughter, now "a chosen queen," +_to_ Norway. In Scott's edition, on the other hand, Sir Patrick is +deputed _to bring home_ the king of Norway's daughter. To explain this +circumstance in the story, Sir Walter is forced to suppose that an +unsuccessful and unrecorded embassy was sent, when the death of +Alexander III. had left the Scottish throne vacant, to bring the only +daughter of Eric and Margaret, styled by historians the Maid of Norway, +to the kingdom of which, after her grandfather's demise, she became the +heir. That such an embassy, attended with so disastrous consequences to +the distinguished persons who would compose it, should be entirely +unnoticed by the chroniclers is, to say the least, exceedingly +improbable. + +The question concerning the historical basis of the ballad would +naturally lose much of its interest, were any importance attached to the +arguments by which its genuineness has been lately assailed. These are +so trivial as hardly to admit of a statement. The claims of the +composition to a high antiquity are first disputed, (_Musical Museum_, +new ed., iv. 457*,) on the ground that such a piece was never heard of +till it was sent to Percy by some of his correspondents in Scotland, +with other ballads of (assumed) questionable authority. But even the +ballad of _Sir Hugh_ is liable to any impeachment that can be extracted +from these circumstances, since it was first made known by Percy, and +was transmitted to him from Scotland, (for aught we know, in suspicious +company,) while its story dates also from the 13th century. Then, "an +ingenious friend" having remarked to Percy that some of the phrases of +_Hardyknute_ seemed to have been borrowed from _Sir Patrick Spence_ and +_other_ old Scottish songs, this observation, combined with the fact +that the localities of Dunfermline and Aberdour are in the neighborhood +of Sir Henry Wardlaw's estate, leads to a conjecture that Lady Wardlaw +may have been the author of _Sir Patrick Spence_, as she is known to +have been of _Hardyknute_. It could never be deemed fair to argue from +those resemblances which give plausibility to a counterfeit to the +spuriousness of the original, but in fact there is _no_ resemblance in +the two pieces. _Hardyknute_ is recognized at once by an ordinary +critic to be a modern production, and is, notwithstanding the praise it +has received, a tame and tiresome one besides. _Sir Patrick Spence_, on +the other hand, if not ancient, has been always accepted as such by the +most skilful judges, and is a solitary instance of a successful +imitation, in manner and spirit, of the best specimens of authentic +minstrelsy.[1] + +It is not denied that this ballad has suffered, like others, by +corruption and interpolations, and it is not, therefore, maintained that +hats and cork-heeld shoon are of the 13th century. + +We have assigned to Percy's copy the first place, because its brevity +and directness give it a peculiar vigor. Scott's edition follows, made +up from two MS. copies, (one of which has been printed in Jamieson's +_Popular Ballads_, i. 157,) collated with several verses recited by a +friend. Buchan's version, obtained from recitation, is in the Appendix. +The variations in recited copies are numerous: some specimens are given +by Motherwell, p. xlv. + +[1] This controversy has been recently re-opened by R. Chambers, _The +Romantic Scottish Ballads, their Epoch and Authorship_, Edin. 1859; and +in reply, _The Romantic Scottish Ballads and the Lady Wardlaw Heresy_, +by Norval Clyne, Aberdeen, 1859. + + The king sits in Dumferling[2] toune, + Drinking the blude-reid wine: + "O quhar will I get guid sailor, + To sail this schip of mine?" + + Up and spak an eldern knicht, 5 + Sat at the kings richt kne: + "Sir Patrick Spence is the best sailor, + That sails upon the se." + + The king has written a braid letter, + And signd it wi' his hand, 10 + And sent it to Sir Patrick Spence, + Was walking on the sand. + + The first line that Sir Patrick red, + A loud lauch lauched he: + The next line that Sir Patrick red, 15 + The teir blinded his ee. + + "O quha is this has don this deid, + This ill deid don to me; + To send me out this time o' the zeir, + To sail upon the se? 20 + + "Mak hast, mak haste, my mirry men all, + Our guid schip sails the morne." + "O say na sae, my master deir, + For I feir a deadlie storme. + + "Late late yestreen I saw the new moone 25 + Wi' the auld moone in hir arme; + And I feir, I feir, my deir master, + That we will com to harme." + + O our Scots nobles wer richt laith + To weet their cork-heild schoone; 30 + Bot lang owre a' the play wer playd, + Thair hats they swam aboone. + + O lang, lang, may their ladies sit + Wi' thair fans into their hand, + Or eir they se Sir Patrick Spence 35 + Cum sailing to the land. + + O lang, lang, may the ladies stand + Wi' thair gold kems in their hair, + Waiting for thair ain deir lords, + For they'll se thame na mair. 40 + + Have owre, have owre to Aberdour,[L41] + It's fiftie fadom deip: + And thair lies guid Sir Patrick Spence, + Wi' the Scots lords at his feit. + +[2] The palace of Dunfermline was the favorite residence of King +Alexander III. + +41-44. "It is true that the name of Sir Patrick Spens is not mentioned +in history; but I am able to state that tradition has preserved it. In +the little island of Papa Stronsay, one of the Orcadian group, lying +over against Norway, there is a large grave or tumulus, which has been +known to the inhabitants, from time immemorial, as 'The grave of Sir +Patrick Spens.' The Scottish ballads were not early current in Orkney, a +Scandinavian country; so it is very unlikely that the poem could have +originated the name. The people know nothing beyond the traditional +appellation of the spot, and they have no legend to tell." Aytoun, +_Ballads of Scotland_, i. 2.--This passage is cited simply as a piece of +_external_ evidence to the antiquity of the legend of Sir Patrick +Spens,--supposing the matter of fact to be well established, and the +alleged tradition to be of long standing. + + + + +SIR PATRICK SPENS. + +_Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, i. 299. + + +In singing, the interjection O is added to the second and fourth lines. + + The king sits in Dunfermline town, + Drinking the blude-red wine: + "O whare will I get a skeely skipper + To sail this new ship of mine?" + + O up and spake an eldern knight, 5 + Sat at the king's right knee: + "Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor + That ever sailed the sea." + + Our king has written a braid letter, + And sealed it with his hand, 10 + And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens, + Was walking on the strand. + + "To Noroway, to Noroway, + To Noroway o'er the faem; + The king's daughter of Noroway, 15 + 'Tis thou maun bring her hame!" + + The first word that Sir Patrick read, + Sae loud loud laughed he; + The neist word that Sir Patrick read, + The tear blindit his e'e. 20 + + "O wha is this has done this deed, + And tauld the king o' me, + To send us out at this time of the year, + To sail upon the sea? + + "Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail, be it sleet, 25 + Our ship must sail the faem; + The king's daughter of Noroway, + 'Tis we must fetch her hame." + + They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn + Wi' a' the speed they may; 30 + They hae landed in Noroway + Upon a Wodensday. + + They hadna been a week, a week, + In Noroway, but twae, + When that the lords o' Noroway 35 + Began aloud to say: + + "Ye Scottishmen spend a' our king's goud, + And a' our queenis fee." + "Ye lie, ye lie, ye liars loud! + Fu' loud I hear ye lie! 40 + + "For I brought as much white monie + As gane my men and me,-- + And I brought a half-fou o' gude red goud + Out o'er the sea wi' me. + + "Make ready, make ready, my merrymen a'! 45 + Our gude ship sails the morn." + "Now, ever alake! my master dear, + I fear a deadly storm! + + "I saw the new moon, late yestreen, + Wi' the auld moon in her arm; 50 + And if we gang to sea, master, + I fear we'll come to harm." + + They hadna sailed a league, a league, + A league, but barely three, + When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud, 55 + And gurly grew the sea. + + The ankers brak, and the topmasts lap, + It was sic a deadly storm; + And the waves came o'er the broken ship, + Till a' her sides were torn. 60 + + "O where will I get a gude sailor, + To take my helm in hand, + Till I get up to the tall topmast, + To see if I can spy land?" + + "O here am I, a sailor gude, 65 + To take the helm in hand, + Till you go up to the tall topmast,-- + But I fear you'll ne'er spy land." + + He hadna gane a step, a step, + A step, but barely ane, 70 + When a bout flew out of our goodly ship, + And the salt sea it came in. + + "Gae fetch a web o' the silken claith, + Another o' the twine, + And wap them into our ship's side, 75 + And letna the sea come in." + + They fetched a web o' the silken claith, + Another o' the twine, + And they wapped them roun' that gude ship's side, + But still the sea came in. 80 + + "O laith laith were our gude Scots lords + To weet their cork-heeled shoon! + But lang or a' the play was played, + They wat their hats aboon. + + And mony was the feather-bed 85 + That flatter'd on the faem; + And mony was the gude lord's son + That never mair cam hame. + + The ladyes wrang their fingers white, + The maidens tore their hair; 90 + A' for the sake of their true loves, + For them they'll see nae mair. + + O lang lang may the ladyes sit, + Wi' their fans into their hand, + Before they see Sir Patrick Spens 95 + Come sailing to the strand! + + And lang lang may the maidens sit, + Wi' their goud kaims in their hair, + A' waiting for their ain dear loves, + For them they'll see nae mair. 100 + + O forty miles off Aberdeen + 'Tis fifty fathoms deep, + And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens + Wi' the Scots lords at his feet. + + + + +BOOK IV. + + + + +KING ESTMERE. + +From _Reliques of English Poetry_, i. 65. + + +"This romantic legend," says Percy, "is given from two copies, one of +them in the Editor's folio MS., but which contained very great +variations." This second copy has been conjectured to be of Percy's own +making, the ballad never having been heard of by any one else, out of +his manuscript. Judging from the internal evidence, the alterations made +in the printed text were not very serious. + +King Easter and King Wester have appeared in the ballad of _Fause +Foodrage_, (vol. iii. p. 40.) In another version of the same, they are +called the Eastmure king and the Westmure king, (Motherwell's +_Minstrelsy_, p. lix.) There is also a tale cited in the _Complaynt of +Scotland_, (i. 98,) of a king of Estmureland that married the daughter +of the king of Westmureland. This is plausibly supposed by Ritson to +have been a romance of Horn, in which case the two countries should mean +England and Ireland. King Esmer is one of King Diderik's champions (in +the Danish ballad, _Kong Diderik og hans K[ae]mper_), and the father of +Svend Vonved (in _Svend Vonved_). In the Flemish and German romances of +_The Knight of the Swan_, Essmer, or Esmer['e]s, is one of the seven +sons of Oriant, and in _Le Dit de Flourence de Romme_ (Jubinal, _Nouveau +Recueil de Contes_, etc., i. 88), Esm[e']re is a Roman prince. +(Grundtvig, i. 78, 236.) For the nonce, we are told that King Estmere +was an English prince, and we may, perhaps, infer from the eighth stanza +that King Adland's dominions were on the same island. But no subject of +inquiry can be more idle than the geography of the romances. + + Hearken to me, gentlemen, + Come and you shall heare; + Ile tell you of two of the boldest brethren, + That ever born y-were. + + The tone of them was Adler yonge, 5 + The tother was kyng Estmere; + They were as bolde men in their deedes + As any were, farr and neare. + + As they were drinking ale and wine + Within kyng Estmeres halle, 10 + "When will ye marry a wyfe, brother, + A wyfe to gladd us all?" + + Then bespake him kyng Estmere, + And answered him hartilye: + "I knowe not that ladye in any lande, 15 + That is able to marry with mee." + + "Kyng Adland hath a daughter, brother, + Men call her bright and sheene; + If I were kyng here in your stead, + That ladye shold be queene." 20 + + Sayes, "Reade me, reade me, deare brother, + Throughout merry England, + Where we might find a messenger + Betweene us two to sende." + + Sayes, "You shall ryde yourselfe, brother, 25 + Ile beare you companee; + Many throughe fals messengers are deceived,[L27] + And I feare lest soe shold wee." + + Thus they renisht them to ryde + On twoe good renisht steedes, 30 + And when they came to kyng Adlands halle, + Of red golde shone their weedes. + + And when they came to kyng Adlands halle, + Before the goodlye yate, + Ther they found good kyng Adland, 35 + Rearing himselfe theratt. + + "Nowe Christ thee save, good kyng Adland, + Nowe Christ thee save and see:" + Sayd, "You be welcome, kyng Estmere, + Right hartilye to mee." 40 + + "You have a daughter," sayd Adler yonge, + "Men call her bright and sheene; + My brother wold marrye her to his wiffe, + Of Englande to be queene." + + "Yesterdaye was att my dere daughter 45 + The king his sonne of Spayn; + And then she nicked him of naye; + I feare sheele do youe the same." + + "The kyng of Spayne is a foule paynim, + And 'leeveth on Mahound, 50 + And pitye it were that fayre ladye + Shold marrye a heathen hound." + + "But grant to me," sayes kyng Estmere, + "For my love I you praye, + That I may see your daughter dere 55 + Before I goe hence awaye." + + "Althoughe itt is seven yeare and more + Syth my daughter was in halle, + She shall come downe once for your sake, + To glad my guest[e']s alle." 60 + + Downe then came that mayden fayre, + With ladyes lacede in pall, + And halfe a hondred of bolde knightes, + To bring her from bowre to hall, + And eke as manye gentle squieres, 65 + To waite upon them all. + + The talents of golde were on her head sette, + Hunge lowe downe to her knee; + And everye rynge on her small finger + Shone of the chrystall free. 70 + + Sayes, "Christ you save, my deare madame," + Sayes, "Christ you save and see:" + Sayes, "You be welcome, kyng Estmere, + Right welcome unto mee. + + "And iff you love me, as you saye, 75 + So well and hartilee, + All that ever you are comen about + Soone sped now itt may bee." + + Then bespake her father deare, + "My daughter, I saye naye; 80 + Remember well the kyng of Spayne, + What he sayd yesterdaye. + + "He wold pull downe my halles and castles, + And reave me of my lyfe: + And ever I feare that paynim kyng, 85 + Iff I reave him of his wyfe." + + "Your castles and your towres, father, + Are stronglye built aboute; + And therefore of that foule paynim + Wee neede not stande in doubte. 90 + + "Plyght me your troth nowe, kyng Estmere, + By heaven and your righte hande, + That you will marrye me to your wyfe, + And make me queene of your land." + + Then kyng Estmere he plight his troth 95 + By heaven and his righte hand, + That he wolde marrye her to his wyfe, + And make her queene of his land. + + And he tooke leave of that ladye fayre, + To goe to his owne countree, 100 + To fetche him dukes and lordes and knightes, + That marryed they might bee. + + They had not ridden scant a myle, + A myle forthe of the towne, + But in did come the kynge of Spayne, 105 + With kemp[e']s many a one: + + But in did come the kyng of Spayne, + With manye a grimme barone, + Tone day to marrye kyng Adlands daughter, + Tother daye to carrye her home. 110 + + Then shee sent after kyng Estmere, + In all the spede might bee, + That he must either returne and fighte, + Or goe home and lose his ladye. + + One whyle then the page he went, 115 + Another whyle he ranne; + Till he had oretaken king Estmere, + Iwis he never blanne. + + "Tydinges, tydinges, kyng Estmere!" + "What tydinges nowe, my boye?" 120 + "O tydinges I can tell to you, + That will you sore annoye. + + "You had not ridden scant a myle, + A myle out of the towne, + But in did come the kyng of Spayne 125 + With kemp[e']s many a one: + + "But in did come the kyng of Spayne + With manye a grimme barone, + Tone day to marrye kyng Adlands daughter, + Tother daye to carrye her home. 130 + + "That ladye fayre she greetes you well, + And ever-more well by mee: + You must either turne againe and fighte, + Or goe home and lose your ladye." + + Sayes, "Reade me, reade me, deare brother, 135 + My reade shall ryse at thee,[L136] + Whiche way we best may turne and fighte, + To save this fayre ladye." + + "Now hearken to me," sayes Adler yonge, + "And your reade must rise at me; 140 + I quicklye will devise a waye + To sette thy ladye free. + + "My mother was a westerne woman, + And learned in gramarye, + And when I learned at the schole, 145 + Something shee taught itt me. + + "There groweth an hearbe within this fielde, + And iff it were but knowne, + His color which is whyte and redd, + It will make blacke and browne. 150 + + "His color which is browne and blacke, + Itt will make redd and whyte; + That sword is not in all Englande, + Upon his coate will byte. + + "And you shal be a harper, brother, 155 + Out of the north countree; + And Ile be your boye, so faine of fighte, + To beare your harpe by your knee. + + "And you shall be the best harper + That ever tooke harpe in hand; 160 + And I will be the best singer + That ever sung in this land. + + "Itt shal be written in our forheads, + All and in grammarye, + That we towe are the boldest men 165 + That are in all Christentye." + + And thus they renisht them to ryde, + On towe good renish steedes; + And whan they came to king Adlands hall, + Of redd gold shone their weedes. 170 + + And whan they came to kyng Adlands hall, + Untill the fayre hall yate, + There they found a proud porter, + Rearing himselfe theratt. + + Sayes, "Christ thee save, thou proud porter," 175 + Sayes, "Christ thee save and see:" + "Nowe you be welcome," sayd the porter, + "Of what land soever ye bee." + + "We been harpers," sayd Adler yonge, + "Come out of the northe countree; 180 + We beene come hither untill this place, + This proud weddinge for to see." + + Sayd, "And your color were white and redd, + As it is blacke and browne, + Ild saye king Estmere and his brother 185 + Were comen untill this towne." + + Then they pulled out a ryng of gold,[L187] + Layd itt on the porters arme: + "And ever we will thee, proud porter, + Thow wilt saye us no harme." 190 + + Sore he looked on kyng Estmere, + And sore he handled the ryng, + Then opened to them the fayre hall yates, + He lett for no kind of thyng. + + Kyng Estmere he light off his steede, 195 + Up att the fayre hall board; + The frothe that came from his brydle bitte + Light on kyng Bremors beard. + + Sayes, "Stable thy steede, thou proud harper, + Go stable him in the stalle; 200 + Itt doth not beseeme a proud harper + To stable him in a kyngs halle." + + "My ladd he is so lither," he sayd, + "He will do nought that's meete; + And aye that I cold but find the man, 205 + Were able him to beate." + + "Thou speakst proud words," sayd the paynim king, + "Thou harper, here to mee; + There is a man within this halle, + That will beate thy lad and thee." 210 + + "O lett that man come downe," he sayd, + "A sight of him wold I see; + And whan hee hath beaten well my ladd, + Then he shall beate of mee." + + Downe then came the kemperye man, 215 + And looked him in the eare; + For all the gold that was under heaven, + He durst not neigh him neare. + + "And how nowe, kempe," sayd the kyng of Spayne, + "And how what aileth thee?" 220 + He sayes, "Itt is written in his forhead, + All and in gramarye, + That for all the gold that is under heaven, + I dare not neigh him nye." + + Kyng Estmere then pulled forth his harpe, 225 + And played thereon so sweete: + Upstarte the ladye from the kynge, + As hee sate at the meate. + + "Now stay thy harpe, thou proud harper, + Now stay thy harpe, I say; 230 + For an thou playest as thou beginnest, + Thou'lt till my bride awaye." + + He strucke upon his harpe agayne, + And playd both fayre and free; + The ladye was so pleasde theratt, 235 + She laught loud laughters three. + + "Nowe sell me thy harpe," sayd the kyng of Spayne, + "Thy harpe and stryngs eche one, + And as many gold nobles thou shalt have, + As there be stryngs thereon." 240 + + "And what wold ye doe with my harpe," he sayd, + Iff I did sell it yee?" + "To playe my wiffe and me a fitt, + When abed together we bee." + + "Now sell me," quoth hee, "thy bryde soe gay, 245 + As shee sitts laced in pall, + And as many gold nobles I will give, + As there be rings in the hall." + + "And what wold ye doe with my bryde soe gay, + Iff I did sell her yee? 250 + More seemelye it is for her fayre bodye + To lye by mee than thee." + + Hee played agayne both loud and shrille, + And Adler he did syng, + "O ladye, this is thy owne true love; 255 + Noe harper, but a kyng. + + "O ladye, this is thy owne true love, + As playnlye thou mayest see; + And Ile rid thee of that foule paynim, + Who partes thy love and thee." 260 + + The ladye looked, the ladye blushte, + And blushte and lookt agayne, + While Adler he hath drawne his brande, + And hath the Sowdan slayne. + + Up then rose the kemperye men, 265 + And loud they gan to crye: + "Ah! traytors, yee have slayne our kyng, + And therefore yee shall dye." + + Kyng Estmere threwe the harpe asyde, + And swith he drew his brand; 270 + And Estmere he, and Adler yonge, + Right stiffe in stour can stand. + + And aye their swordes soe sore can byte, + Through helpe of gramarye, + That soone they have slayne the kempery men, 275 + Or forst them forth to flee. + + Kyng Estmere tooke that fayre ladye, + And marryed her to his wiffe, + And brought her home to merrye England, + With her to leade his life. 280 + +27. MS. Many a man ... is. + +136. MS. ryde, but see v. 140. + +v. 187. + + Then they pulled out a ryng of gold, + Layd itt on the porters arme. + +The rings so often used in ballads to conciliate the porter would seem +to be not personal ornaments, but coins. For an account of Ring Money, +see the paper of Sir William Betham, in the seventeenth volume of the +_Transactions of the Royal Irish Academy_. + + + + +SIR CAULINE. + +From _Reliques of English Poetry_, i. 44. + + +"This old romantic tale," says Percy, "was preserved in the Editor's +folio MS., but in so very defective and mutilated a condition, (not from +any chasm in the MS., but from great omission in the transcript, +probably copied from the faulty recitation of some illiterate minstrel,) +that it was necessary to supply several stanzas in the first part, and +still more in the second, to connect and complete the story." + +Many of the interpolations acknowledged in such general terms might with +some confidence be pointed out. Among them are certainly most, if not +all, of the last twelve stanzas of the Second Part, which include the +catastrophe to the story. It is difficult to believe that this charming +romance had so tragic and so sentimental a conclusion. + +The first part of this ballad is preserved in Scotland, under the title +of _King Malcolm and Sir Colvin_, and is printed in our Appendix from +Buchan's collection. In this, Sir Colvin weds the princess after his +victory over the Elrick knight. + + +THE FIRST PART. + + In Ireland, ferr over the sea, + There dwelleth a bonnye kinge; + And with him a yong and comlye knighte, + Men call him Syr Cauline. + + The kinge had a ladye to his daughter, 5 + In fashyon she hath no peere; + And princely wightes that ladye wooed + To be theyr wedded feere. + + Syr Cauline loveth her best of all, + But nothing durst he saye, 10 + Ne descreeve his counsayl to no man, + But deerlye he lovde this may. + + Till on a daye it so beffell + Great dill to him was dight; + The maydens love removde his mynd, 15 + To care-bed went the knighte. + + One while he spred his armes him fro, + One while he spred them nye: + "And aye! but I winne that ladyes love, + For dole now I mun dye." 20 + + And whan our parish-masse was done, + Our kinge was bowne to dyne: + He sayes, "Where is Syr Cauline, + That is wont to serve the wyne?" + + Then aunswerde him a courteous knighte, 25 + And fast his handes gan wringe: + "Syr Cauline is sicke, and like to dye, + Without a good leechinge." + + "Fetche me downe my daughter deere, + She is a leeche fulle fine; 30 + Goe take him doughe and the baken bread, + And serve him with the wyne soe red: + Lothe I were him to tine." + + Fair Christabelle to his chaumber goes, + Her maydens followyng nye: 35 + "O well," she sayth, "how doth my lord?" + "O sicke, thou fayr ladye." + + "Nowe ryse up wightlye, man, for shame, + Never lye soe cowardlee; + For it is told in my fathers halle 40 + You dye for love of mee." + + "Fayre ladye, it is for your love + That all this dill I drye: + For if you wold comfort me with a kisse, + Then were I brought from bale to blisse, 45 + No lenger wold I lye." + + "Sir knighte, my father is a kinge, + I am his onlye heire; + Alas! and well you knowe, syr knighte, + I never can be youre fere." 50 + + "O ladye, thou art a kinges daughter, + And I am not thy peere; + But let me doe some deedes of armes, + To be your bacheleere." + + "Some deedes of armes if thou wilt doe, 55 + My bacheleere to bee, + (But ever and aye my heart wold rue, + Giff harm shold happe to thee,) + + "Upon Eldridge hill there groweth a thorne, + Upon the mores brodinge; 60 + And dare ye, syr knighte, wake there all nighte, + Untile the fayre morninge? + + "For the Eldridge knighte, so mickle of mighte, + Will examine you beforne; + And never man bare life awaye, 65 + But he did him scath and scorne. + + "That knighte he is a foul paynim, + And large of limb and bone; + And but if heaven may be thy speede, + Thy life it is but gone." 70 + + "Nowe on the Eldridge hilles Ile walke, + For thy sake, fair ladie; + And Ile either bring you a ready token, + Or Ile never more you see." + + The lady has gone to her own chaumbere, 75 + Her maydens following bright; + Syr Cauline lope from care-bed soone, + And to the Eldridge hills is gone, + For to wake there all night. + + Unto midnight, that the moone did rise, 80 + He walked up and downe; + Then a lightsome bugle heard he blowe + Over the bents soe browne; + Quoth hee, "If cryance come till my heart, + I am ffar from any good towne." 85 + + And soone he spyde on the mores so broad + A furyous wight and fell; + A ladye bright his brydle led, + Clad in a fayre kyrtell: + + And soe fast he called on Syr Cauline, 90 + "O man, I rede thee flye, + For but if cryance come till thy heart,[L92] + I weene but thou mun dye." + + He sayth, "No cryance comes till my heart,[L94] + Nor, in faith, I wyll not flee; 95 + For, cause thou minged not Christ before, + The less me dreadeth thee." + + The Eldridge knighte, he pricked his steed; + Syr Cauline bold abode: + Then either shooke his trustye speare, 100 + And the timber these two children bare + Soe soone in sunder slode. + + Then tooke they out theyr two good swordes, + And layden on full faste, + Till helme and hawberke, mail and sheelde, 105 + They all were well-nye brast. + + The Eldridge knight was mickle of might, + And stiffe in stower did stande; + But Syr Cauline with an aukeward stroke + He smote off his right-hand; 110 + That soone he, with paine and lacke of bloud, + Fell downe on that lay-land. + + Then up Syr Cauline lift his brande + All over his head so hye: + "And here I sweare by the holy roode, 115 + Nowe, caytiffe, thou shalt dye." + + Then up and came that ladye brighte, + Faste ringing of her hande: + "For the maydens love, that most you love, + Withhold that deadlye brande: 120 + + "For the maydens love that most you love, + Now smyte no more I praye; + And aye whatever thou wilt, my lord, + He shall thy hests obaye." + + "Now sweare to mee, thou Eldridge knighte, 125 + And here on this lay-land, + That thou wilt believe on Christ his laye, + And therto plight thy hand: + + "And that thou never on Eldridge [hill] come + To sporte, gamon, or playe; 130 + And that thou here give up thy armes + Until thy dying daye." + + The Eldridge knighte gave up his armes, + With many a sorrowfulle sighe; + And sware to obey Syr Caulines hest, 135 + Till the tyme that he shold dye. + + And he then up, and the Eldridge knighte + Sett him in his saddle anone; + And the Eldridge knighte and his ladye, + To theyr castle are they gone. 140 + + Then he tooke up the bloudy hand, + That was so large of bone, + And on it he founde five ringes of gold, + Of knightes that had be slone. + + Then he tooke up the Eldridge sworde, 145 + As hard as any flint; + And he tooke off those ringes five, + As bright as fyre and brent. + + Home then pricked Syr Cauline, + As light as leafe on tree; 150 + I-wys he neither stint ne blanne, + Till he his ladye see. + + Then downe he knelt upon his knee, + Before that lady gay: + "O ladye, I have bin on the Eldridge hills; 155 + These tokens I bring away." + + "Now welcome, welcome, Syr Cauline, + Thrice welcome unto mee, + For now I perceive thou art a true knighte, + Of valour bolde and free." 160 + + "O ladye, I am thy own true knighte, + Thy hests for to obaye; + And mought I hope to winne thy love!"-- + No more his tonge colde say. + + The ladye blushed scarlette redde, 165 + And fette a gentill sighe: + "Alas! syr knight, how may this bee, + For my degree's soe highe? + + "But sith thou hast hight, thou comely youth, + To be my batchilere, 170 + Ile promise, if thee I may not wedde, + I will have none other fere." + + Then shee held forthe her liley-white hand + Towards that knighte so free; + He gave to it one gentill kisse, 175 + His heart was brought from bale to blisse, + The teares sterte from his ee. + + "But keep my counsayl, Syr Cauline, + Ne let no man it knowe; + For, and ever my father sholde it ken, 180 + I wot he wolde us sloe." + + From that daye forthe, that ladye fayre + Lovde Syr Cauline the knighte; + From that daye forthe, he only joyde + Whan shee was in his sight. 185 + + Yea, and oftentimes they mette + Within a fayre arboure, + Where they, in love and sweet daliaunce, + Past manye a pleasaunt houre. + +92, MS. For if. + +94, No inserted. + + +THE SECOND PART. + + Everye white will have its blacke, + And everye sweete its sowre: + This founde the Ladye Christabelle + In an untimely howre. + + For so it befelle, as Syr Cauline 5 + Was with that ladye faire, + The kinge, her father, walked forthe + To take the evenyng aire: + + And into the arboure as he went + To rest his wearye feet, 10 + He found his daughter and Syr Cauline + There sette in daliaunce sweet. + + The kinge hee sterted forthe, i-wys, + And an angrye man was hee: + "Nowe, traytoure, thou shalt hange or drawe 15 + And rewe shall thy ladie." + + Then forthe Syr Cauline he was ledde, + And throwne in dungeon deepe: + And the ladye into a towre so hye, + There left to wayle and weepe. 20 + + The queene she was Syr Caulines friend, + And to the kinge sayd shee: + "I praye you save Syr Caulines life, + And let him banisht bee." + + "Now, dame, that traitor shall be sent 25 + Across the salt sea fome: + But here I will make thee a band, + If ever he come within this land, + A foule deathe is his doome." + + All woe-begone was that gentil knight 30 + To parte from his ladye; + And many a time he sighed sore, + And cast a wistfulle eye: + "Faire Christabelle, from thee to parte, + Farre lever had I dye." 35 + + Fair Christabelle, that ladye bright, + Was had forthe of the towre; + But ever shee droopeth in her minde, + As, nipt by an ungentle winde, + Doth some faire lillye flowre. 40 + + And ever shee doth lament and weepe, + To tint her lover soe: + "Syr Cauline, thou little think'st on mee, + But I will still be true." + + Manye a kinge, and manye a duke, 45 + And lorde of high degree, + Did sue to that fayre ladye of love; + But never shee wolde them nee. + + When manye a daye was past and gone, + Ne comforte she colde finde, 50 + The kynge proclaimed a tourneament, + To cheere his daughters mind. + + And there came lords, and there came knights, + Fro manye a farre countrye, + To break a spere for theyr ladyes love, 55 + Before that faire ladye. + + And many a ladye there was sette, + In purple and in palle; + But faire Christabelle, soe woe-begone, + Was the fayrest of them all. 60 + + Then manye a knighte was mickle of might, + Before his ladye gaye; + But a stranger wight, whom no man knewe, + He wan the prize eche daye. + + His acton it was all of blacke, 65 + His hewberke and his sheelde; + Ne noe man wist whence he did come, + Ne noe man knewe where he did gone, + When they came out the feelde.[L69] + + And now three days were prestlye past 70 + In feates of chivalrye, + When lo, upon the fourth morninge, + A sorrowfulle sight they see: + + A hugye giaunt stiffe and starke, + All foule of limbe and lere, 75 + Two goggling eyen like fire farden, + A mouthe from eare to eare. + + Before him came a dwarffe full lowe, + That waited on his knee; + And at his backe five heads he bare, 80 + All wan and pale of blee. + + "Sir," quoth the dwarffe, and louted lowe, + "Behold that hend Soldain! + Behold these heads I beare with me! + They are kings which he hath slain. 85 + + "The Eldridge knight is his own cousine, + Whom a knight of thine hath shent; + And hee is come to avenge his wrong: + And to thee, all thy knightes among, + Defiance here hath sent. 90 + + "But yette he will appease his wrath, + Thy daughters love to winne; + And, but thou yeelde him that fayre mayd, + Thy halls and towers must brenne. + + "Thy head, syr king, must goe with mee, 95 + Or else thy daughter deere: + Or else within these lists soe broad, + Thou must finde him a peere." + + The king he turned him round aboute, + And in his heart was woe: 100 + "Is there never a knighte of my round table + This matter will undergoe? + + "Is there never a knighte amongst yee all + Will fight for my daughter and mee? + Whoever will fight yon grimme Soldan, 105 + Right fair his meede shall bee. + + "For hee shall have my broad lay-lands, + And of my crowne be heyre; + And he shall winne fayre Christabelle + To be his wedded fere." 110 + + But every knighte of his round table + Did stand both still and pale; + For, whenever they lookt on the grim Soldan, + It made their hearts to quail. + + All woe-begone was that fayre ladye, 115 + When she sawe no helpe was nye: + She cast her thought on her owne true-love, + And the teares gusht from her eye. + + Up then sterte the stranger knighte, + Sayd, "Ladye, be not affrayd; 120 + Ile fight for thee with this grimme Soldan, + Thoughe he be unmacklye made. + + "And if thou wilt lend me the Eldridge sworde, + That lyeth within thy bowre, + I truste in Christe for to slay this fiende, 125 + Thoughe he be stiff in stowre." + + "Goe fetch him downe the Eldridge sworde," + The kinge he cryde, "with speede: + Nowe, heaven assist thee, courteous knighte; + My daughter is thy meede." 130 + + The gyaunt he stepped into the lists, + And sayd, "Awaye, awaye! + I sweare, as I am the hend Soldan, + Thou lettest me here all daye." + + Then forthe the stranger knight he came, 135 + In his blacke armoure dight: + The ladye sighed a gentle sighe, + "That this were my true knighte!" + + And nowe the gyaunt and knight be mett + Within the lists soe broad; 140 + And now, with swordes soe sharpe of steele, + They gan to lay on load. + + The Soldan strucke the knighte a stroke + That made him reele asyde: + Then woe-begone was that fayre ladye, 145 + And thrice she deeply sighde. + + The Soldan strucke a second stroke, + And made the bloude to flowe: + All pale and wan was that ladye fayre, + And thrice she wept for woe. 150 + + The Soldan strucke a third fell stroke, + Which brought the knighte on his knee: + Sad sorrow pierced that ladyes heart, + And she shriekt loud shriekings three. + + The knighte he leapt upon his feete, 155 + All recklesse of the pain: + Quoth hee, "But heaven be now my speede, + Or else I shall be slaine." + + He grasped his sworde with mayne and mighte, + And spying a secrette part, 160 + He drave it into the Soldans syde, + And pierced him to the heart. + + Then all the people gave a shoute, + Whan they sawe the Soldan falle: + The ladye wept, and thanked Christ 165 + That had reskewed her from thrall. + + And nowe the kinge, with all his barons, + Rose uppe from offe his seate, + And downe he stepped into the listes + That curteous knighte to greete. 170 + + But he, for payne and lacke of bloude, + Was fallen into a swounde, + And there, all walteringe in his gore, + Lay lifelesse on the grounde. + + "Come downe, come downe, my daughter deare, 175 + Thou art a leeche of skille; + Farre lever had I lose halfe my landes + Than this good knighte sholde spille." + + Downe then steppeth that fayre ladye, + To helpe him if she maye: 180 + But when she did his beavere raise, + "It is my life, my lord!" she sayes, + And shriekte and swound awaye. + + Sir Cauline juste lifte up his eyes, + When he heard his ladye crye: 185 + "O ladye, I am thine owne true love; + For thee I wisht to dye." + + Then giving her one partinge looke, + He closed his eyes in death, + Ere Christabelle, that ladye milde, 190 + Begane to drawe her breathe. + + But when she found her comelye knighte + Indeed was dead and gone, + She layde her pale, cold cheeke to his, + And thus she made her moane: 195 + + "O staye, my deare and onlye lord, + For mee, thy faithfulle feere; + 'Tis meet that I shold followe thee, + Who hast bought my love so deare." + + Then fayntinge in a deadlye swoune, 200 + And with a deep-fette sighe + That burst her gentle heart in twayne, + Fayre Christabelle did dye. + +69. "Syr Cauline here acts up to the genuine spirit of perfect chivalry. +In old romances no incident is of more frequent occurrence than this, of +knights already distinguished for feats of arms laying aside their +wonted cognizances, and, under the semblance of stranger knights, +manfully performing right worshipful and valiant deeds. How often is the +renowned Arthur, in such exhibitions, obliged to exclaim, "O Jhesu, what +knight is that arrayed all in grene (or as the case may be)? he justeth +myghtily!" The Emperor of Almaine, in like manner, after the timely +succor afforded him by Syr Gowghter, is anxious to learn the name of his +modest but unknown deliverer." [So in the romance of _Roswall and +Lillian_, &c.]--MOTHERWELL. + + + + +FAIR ANNIE. + +_Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 252. + + +The story of _Fair Annie_ is widely disseminated. The substance of it is +found in the beautiful romance of Marie de France, the _Lai le Frein_, +of which an ancient English translation is printed in Weber's _Metrical +Romances_, i. 357. The Swedish and Danish ballads go under the same name +of _Fair Anna_, and may be seen in Arwidsson's _Svenska Forns[oa]nger_, +i. 291; Geijer's _Svenska Folk-Visor_, i. 24; and Nyerup's _Danske +Viser_, iv. 59. Jamieson has rendered the Danish ballad very skilfully, +in the Scottish dialect, from Syv's edition of the _K[ae]mpe Viser_. In +Dutch, the characters are Maid Adelhaid and King Alewijn (Hoffmann's +_Holl[:a]ndische Volkslieder_, 164.) The story as we have found it in +German is considerably changed. See _Die wiedergefundene +K[:o]nigstochter_, in _Des Knaben Wunderhorn_, ii. 274, and _S[:u]deli_, +Uhland's _Volkslieder_, i. 273. + +The Scottish versions of _Fair Annie_ are quite numerous. A fragment of +eight stanzas was published in Herd's collection, (_Wha will bake my +bridal bread_, ed. 1776, i. 167.) Sir Walter Scott gave a complete +copy, from recitation in the _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_. Two +other copies, also from oral tradition, were inserted by Jamieson in the +Appendix to his _Popular Ballads_, (_Lady Jane_, ii. 371, _Burd Helen_, +ii. 376,) and from these he constructed the edition of _Lady Jane_, +printed at p. 73 of the same volume. Motherwell (_Minstrelsy_) affords +still another variety, and Chambers has compiled a ballad from all these +sources and a manuscript furnished by Mr. Kinloch, (_Scottish Ballads_, +p. 186.) + +In this collection we have adopted the versions of Scott and Motherwell, +giving Jamieson's translation of _Skj[oe]n Anna_ in our Appendix. + + "It's narrow, narrow, make your bed, + And learn to lie your lane; + For I'm gaun o'er the sea, Fair Annie, + A braw bride to bring hame. + Wi' her I will get gowd and gear; 5 + Wi' you I ne'er got nane. + + "But wha will bake my bridal bread, + Or brew my bridal ale? + And wha will welcome my brisk bride, + That I bring o'er the dale?"-- 10 + + "It's I will bake your bridal bread, + And brew your bridal ale; + And I will welcome your brisk bride, + That you bring o'er the dale."-- + + "But she that welcomes my brisk bride 15 + Maun gang like maiden fair; + She maun lace on her robe sae jimp, + And braid her yellow hair."-- + + "But how can I gang maiden-like, + When maiden I am nane? 20 + Have I not born seven sons to thee, + And am with child again?"-- + + She's ta'en her young son in her arms, + Another in her hand; + And she's up to the highest tower, 25 + To see him come to land. + + "Come up, come up, my eldest son, + And look o'er yon sea-strand, + And see your father's new-come bride, + Before she come to land."-- 30 + + "Come down, come down, my mother dear, + Come frae the castle wa'! + I fear, if langer ye stand there, + Ye'll let yoursell down fa'."-- + + And she gaed down, and farther down, 35 + Her love's ship for to see; + And the topmast and the mainmast + Shone like the silver free. + + And she's gane down, and farther down, + The bride's ship to behold; 40 + And the topmast and the mainmast + They shone just like the gold. + + She's ta'en her seven sons in her hand; + I wot she didna fail! + She met Lord Thomas and his bride, 45 + As they came o'er the dale. + + "You're welcome to your house, Lord Thomas; + You're welcome to your land; + You're welcome, with your fair ladye, + That you lead by the hand. 50 + + "You're welcome to your ha's, ladye, + Your welcome to your bowers; + You're welcome to your hame, ladye, + For a' that's here is yours."-- + + "I thank thee, Annie; I thank thee, Annie; 55 + Sae dearly as I thank thee; + You're the likest to my sister Annie, + That ever I did see. + + "There came a knight out o'er the sea, + And steal'd my sister away; 60 + The shame scoup in his company, + And land where'er he gae!"-- + + She hang ae napkin at the door, + Another in the ha'; + And a' to wipe the trickling tears, 65 + Sae fast as they did fa'. + + And aye she served the lang tables + With white bread and with wine; + And aye she drank the wan water, + To had her colour fine. 70 + + And aye she served the lang tables, + With white bread and with brown; + And ay she turn'd her round about, + Sae fast the tears fell down. + + And he's ta'en down the silk napkin, 75 + Hung on a silver pin; + And aye he wipes the tear trickling + Adown her cheek and chin. + + And aye he turn'd him round about, + And smiled amang his men, 80 + Says--"Like ye best the old ladye, + Or her that's new come hame?"-- + + When bells were rung, and mass was sung, + And a' men bound to bed, + Lord Thomas and his new-come bride, 85 + To their chamber they were gaed. + + Annie made her bed a little forbye, + To hear what they might say; + "And ever alas!" fair Annie cried, + "That I should see this day! 90 + + "Gin my seven sons were seven young rats, + Running on the castle wa', + And I were a grey cat mysell, + I soon would worry them a'. + + "Gin my seven sons were seven young hares, 95 + Running o'er yon lilly lee, + And I were a grew hound mysell, + Soon worried they a' should be."-- + + And wae and sad fair Annie sat, + And drearie was her sang; 100 + And ever, as she sobb'd and grat, + "Wae to the man that did the wrang!"-- + + "My gown is on," said the new-come bride, + "My shoes are on my feet, + And I will to fair Annie's chamber, 105 + And see what gars her greet.-- + + "What ails ye, what ails ye, Fair Annie, + That ye make sic a moan? + Has your wine barrels cast the girds, + Or is your white bread gone? 110 + + "O wha was't was your father, Annie, + Or wha was't was your mother? + And had you ony sister, Annie, + Or had you ony brother?"-- + + "The Earl of Wemyss was my father, 115 + The Countess of Wemyss my mother; + And a' the folk about the house, + To me were sister and brother."-- + + "If the Earl of Wemyss was your father, + I wot sae was he mine; 120 + And it shall not be for lack o' gowd, + That ye your love sall tyne. + + "For I have seven ships o' mine ain, + A' loaded to the brim; + And I will gie them a' to thee, 125 + Wi' four to thine eldest son. + But thanks to a' the powers in heaven + That I gae maiden hame!" + + + + +FAIR ANNIE. + +Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 327. Obtained from recitation. + + + "Learn to mak your bed, Annie, + And learn to lie your lane; + For I maun owre the salt seas gang, + A brisk bride to bring hame. + + "Bind up, bind up your yellow hair, 5 + And tye it in your neck; + And see you look as maiden-like + As the day that we first met." + + "O how can I look maiden-like, + When maiden I'll ne'er be; 10 + When seven brave sons I've born to thee, + And the eighth is in my bodie? + + "The eldest of your sons, my lord, + Wi' red gold shines his weed; + The second of your sons, my lord, 15 + Rides on a milk-white steed. + + "And the third of your sons, my lord, + He draws your beer and wine; + And the fourth of your sons, my lord, + Can serve you when you dine. 20 + + "And the fift of your sons, my lord, + He can both read and write; + And the sixth of your sons, my lord, + Can do it most perfyte. + + "And the sevent of your sons, my lord, 25 + Sits on the nurse's knee: + And how can I look maiden-like, + When a maid I'll never be? + + "But wha will bake your wedding bread, + And brew your bridal ale? 30 + Or wha will welcome your brisk bride + That you bring owre the dale?" + + "I'll put cooks in my kitchen, + And stewards in my hall, + And I'll have bakers for my bread, 35 + And brewers for my ale; + But you're to welcome my brisk bride + That I bring owre the dale." + + He set his feet into his ship, + And his cock-boat on the main; 40 + He swore it would be year and day + Or he returned again. + + When year and day was past and gane, + Fair Annie she thocht lang; + And she is up to her bower head, 45 + To behold both sea and land. + + "Come up, come up, my eldest son, + And see now what you see; + O yonder comes your father dear, + And your stepmother to be." 50 + + "Cast off your gown of black, mother, + Put on your gown of brown, + And I'll put off my mourning weeds, + And we'll welcome him home." + + She's taken wine into her hand, 55 + And she has taken bread, + And she is down to the water side + To welcome them indeed. + + "You're welcome, my lord, you're welcome, my lord, + You're welcome home to me; 60 + So is every lord and gentleman + That is in your companie. + + "You're welcome, my lady, you're welcome, my lady, + You're welcome home to me; + So is every lady and gentleman 65 + That's in your companie." + + "I thank you, my girl, I thank you, my girl, + I thank you heartily; + If I live seven years about this house, + Rewarded you shall be." 70 + + She serv'd them up, she serv'd them down, + With the wheat bread and the wine; + But aye she drank the cauld water, + To keep her colour fine. + + She serv'd them up, she serv'd them down, + With the wheat bread and the beer; 75 + But aye she drank the cauld water, + To keep her colour clear. + + When bells were rung and mass was sung, + And all were boune for rest, 80 + Fair Annie laid her sons in bed, + And a sorrowfu' woman she was. + + "Will I go to the salt, salt seas, + And see the fishes swim? + Or will I go to the gay green wood, 85 + And hear the small birds sing?" + + Out and spoke an aged man, + That stood behind the door,-- + "Ye will not go to the salt, salt seas, + To see the fishes swim; 90 + Nor will ye go to the gay green wood, + To hear the small birds sing: + + "But ye'll take a harp into your hand, + Go to their chamber door, + And aye ye'll harp and aye ye'll murn, 95 + With the salt tears falling o'er." + + She's ta'en a harp into her hand, + Went to their chamber door, + And aye she harped and aye she murn'd, + With the salt tears falling o'er. 100 + + Out and spak the brisk young bride, + In bride-bed where she lay,-- + "I think I hear my sister Annie, + And I wish weel it may; + For a Scotish lord staw her awa, 105 + And an ill death may he die." + + "Wha was your father, my girl," she says, + "Or wha was your mother? + Or had you ever a sister dear, + Or had you ever a brother?" 110 + + "King Henry was my father dear, + Queen Esther was my mother, + Prince Henry was my brother dear, + And Fanny Flower my sister." + + "If King Henry was your father dear, 115 + And Queen Esther was your mother, + If Prince Henry was your brother dear, + Then surely I'm your sister. + + "Come to your bed, my sister dear, + It ne'er was wrang'd for me, 120 + Bot an ae kiss of his merry mouth, + As we cam owre the sea." + + "Awa, awa, ye forenoon bride, + Awa, awa frae me; + I wudna hear my Annie greet, 125 + For a' the gold I got wi' thee." + + "There were five ships of gay red gold + Cam owre the seas with me; + It's twa o' them will tak me hame, + And three I'll leave wi' thee. 130 + + "Seven ships o' white monie + Came owre the seas wi' me; + Five o' them I'll leave wi' thee, + And twa will take me hame; + And my mother will make my portion up, 135 + When I return again." + + + + +CHILD WATERS. + + +First published by Percy from his folio MS., _Reliques_, iii. 94. +Several traditionary versions have since been printed, of which we give +_Burd Ellen_ from Jamieson's, and in the Appendix, _Lady Margaret_ from +Kinloch's collection. Jamieson also furnishes a fragment, and Buchan, +(_Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 30,) a complete copy of another +version of _Burd Ellen_, and Chambers (_Scottish Ballads_, 193,) makes +up an edition from all the copies, which we mention here because he has +taken some lines from a manuscript supplied by Mr. Kinloch. + + Childe Waters in his stable stoode + And stroakt his milke-white steede; + To him a fayre yonge ladye came + As ever ware womans weede. + + Sayes, "Christ you save, good Childe Waters," 5 + Sayes, "Christ you save and see; + My girdle of gold that was too longe, + Is now too short for mee. + + "And all is with one childe of yours + I feele sturre at my side; 10 + My gowne of greene it is too straighte; + Before, it was too wide." + + "If the child be mine, faire Ellen," he sayd,[L13] + "Be mine, as you tell mee, + Then take you Cheshire and Lancashire both, 15 + Take them your owne to bee. + + "If the childe be mine, faire Ellen," he sayd, + "Be mine, as you doe sweare, + Then take you Cheshire and Lancashire both, + And make that child your heyre." 20 + + Shee sayes, "I had rather have one kisse, + Childe Waters, of thy mouth, + Than I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire both, + That lye by north and southe. + + "And I had rather have one twinkling, 25 + Childe Waters, of thine ee, + Than I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire both, + To take them mine owne to bee." + + "To morrowe, Ellen, I must forth ryde + Farr into the north countree; 30 + The fayrest lady that I can finde, + Ellen, must goe with mee." + + "Thoughe I am not that ladye fayre,[L33] + Yet let me go with thee: + And ever I pray you, Childe Waters, 35 + Your foot-page let me bee." + + "If you will my foot-page bee, Ellen, + As you doe tell to mee, + Then you must cut your gowne of greene + An inch above your knee: 40 + + "Soe must you doe your yellowe lockes, + An inch above your ee; + You must tell no man what is my name; + My foot-page then you shall bee." + + Shee, all the long daye Childe Waters rode, 45 + Ran barefoote by his syde, + Yet was he never soe courteous a knighte, + To say, "Ellen, will you ryde?" + + Shee, all the long daye Childe Waters rode, + Ran barefoote thorow the broome, 50 + Yett was hee never soe courteous a knighte, + To say, "put on your shoone." + + "Ride softlye," shee sayd, "O Childe Waters: + Why doe you ryde so fast? + The childe, which is no mans but thine, 55 + My bodye itt will brast." + + Hee sayth, "seest thou yond water, Ellen, + That flows from banke to brimme?" + "I trust to God, O Childe Waters, + You never will see me swimme." 60 + + But when shee came to the water side, + She sayled to the chinne: + "Now the Lord of heaven be my speede, + For I must learne to swimme." + + The salt waters bare up her clothes, 65 + Our Ladye bare up her chinne; + Childe Waters was a woe man, good Lord, + To see faire Ellen swimme! + + And when shee over the water was, + Shee then came to his knee: 70 + Hee sayd, "Come hither, thou fayre Ellen, + Loe yonder what I see. + + "Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen? + Of redd gold shines the yate: + Of twenty foure faire ladyes there, 75 + The fairest is my mate. + + "Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen? + Of redd golde shines the towre: + There are twenty four fayre ladyes there, + The fayrest is my paramoure." 80 + + "I see the hall now, Childe Waters, + Of redd golde shines the yate: + God give you good now of yourselfe, + And of your worldlye mate. + + "I see the hall now, Childe Waters, 85 + Of redd golde shines the towre: + God give you good now of yourselfe, + And of your paramoure." + + There twenty four fayre ladyes were + A playing at the ball, 90 + And Ellen, the fayrest ladye there, + Must bring his steed to the stall. + + There twenty four fayre ladyes were + A playinge at the chesse, + And Ellen, the fayrest ladye there, 95 + Must bring his horse to gresse. + + And then bespake Childe Waters sister, + These were the wordes sayd shee: + "You have the prettyest page, brother, + That ever I did see; 100 + + "But that his bellye it is soe bigge, + His girdle stands soe hye; + And ever, I pray you, Childe Waters, + Let him in my chamber lye." + + "It is not fit for a little foot-page, 105 + That has run throughe mosse and myre, + To lye in the chamber of any ladye, + That weares soe riche attyre. + + "It is more meete for a little foot-page, + That has run throughe mosse and myre, 110 + To take his supper upon his knee, + And lye by the kitchen fyre." + + Now when they had supped every one, + To bedd they tooke theyr waye: + He sayd, "Come hither, my little foot-page, 115 + And hearken what I saye. + + "Goe thee downe into yonder towne, + And lowe into the streete; + The fayrest ladye that thou canst finde, + Hyre in mine armes to sleepe; 120 + And take her up in thine armes twaine, + For filing of her feete." + + Ellen is gone into the towne, + And lowe into the streete; + The fayrest ladye that shee colde finde, 125 + She hyred in his armes to sleepe; + And tooke her up in her armes twayne, + For filing of her feete. + + "I praye you nowe, good Childe Waters, + Let mee lye at your feete; + For there is noe place about this house, 130 + Where I may saye a sleepe." + + He gave her leave, and faire Ellen[L133] + Down at his beds feet laye; + This done the nighte drove on apace, 135 + And when it was neare the daye, + + Hee sayd, "Rise up, my little foot-page, + Give my steede corne and haye; + And give him nowe the good black oats, + To carry mee better awaye." 140 + + Up then rose the faire Ellen, + And gave his steede corne and hay; + And soe shee did the good black oates, + To carry him the better awaye. + + She leaned her back to the manger side, 145 + And grievouslye did groane; + She leaned her back to the manger side, + And there shee made her moane. + + And that beheard his mother deare, + Shee heard her woefull woe:[L150] 150 + Shee sayd, "Rise up, thou Childe Waters, + And into thy stable goe. + + "For in thy stable is a ghost, + That grievouslye doth grone; + Or else some woman laboures with childe, 155 + Shee is so woe-begone." + + Up then rose Childe Waters soone, + And did on his shirte of silke; + And then he put on his other clothes, + On his bodye as white as milke. 160 + + And when he came to the stable dore, + Full still there hee did stand, + That hee mighte heare his fayre Ellen, + Howe shee made her monand. + + She sayd, "Lullabye, mine own dear childe, 165 + Lullabye, deare childe, deare; + I wolde thy father were a kinge, + Thy mothere layd on a biere." + + "Peace nowe," hee sayd, "good, faire Ellen, + Bee of good cheere, I praye; 170 + And the bridale and the churchinge bothe + Shall bee upon one daye. + +13, MS. be inne. + +33, 34, supplied by Percy. + +133, 134, supplied by Percy. + +150, her woefull woe, Percy! + + + + +BURD ELLEN. + + +Printed from Mrs. Brown's recitation, in Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, +i. 117. We have restored the text by omitting some interpolations of the +editor, and three concluding stanzas by the same, which, contrary to all +authority, gave a tragic turn to the story. + + Lord John stood in his stable door, + Said he was boun to ride; + Burd Ellen stood in her bower door, + Said she'd rin by his side. + + He's pitten on his cork-heel'd shoon, 5 + And fast awa rade he; + She's clad hersel in page array, + And after him ran she: + + Till they came till a wan water, + And folks do call it Clyde; 10 + Then he's lookit o'er his left shoulder, + Says, "Lady, will ye ride?" + + "O I learnt it wi' my bower woman, + And I learnt it for my weal, + Whanever I cam to wan water, 15 + To swim like ony eel." + + But the firsten stap the lady stappit, + The water came till her knee; + "Ochon, alas!" said the lady, + "This water's o'er deep for me." 20 + + The nexten stap the lady stappit, + The water came till her middle; + And sighin says that gay lady, + "I've wat my gouden girdle." + + The thirden stap the lady stappit, 25 + The water came till her pap; + And the bairn that was in her twa sides + For cauld began to quake. + + "Lie still, lie still, my ain dear babe; + Ye work your mother wae: 30 + Your father rides on high horse back, + Cares little for us twae." + + O about the midst o' Clyde's water + There was a yeard-fast stane; + He lightly turn'd his horse about, 35 + And took her on him behin. + + "O tell me this now, good lord John, + And a word ye dinna lie, + How far it is to your lodgin, + Whare we this night maun be?" 40 + + "O see na ye yon castell, Ellen, + That shines sae fair to see? + There is a lady in it, Ellen, + Will sinder you and me. + + "There is a lady in that castell 45 + Will sinder you and I"-- + "Betide me weal, betide me wae, + I sall gang there and try." + + "My dogs shall eat the good white bread, + And ye shall eat the bran; 50 + Then will ye sigh, and say, alas! + That ever I was a man!" + + "O I shall eat the good white bread, + And your dogs shall eat the bran; + And I hope to live to bless the day, 55 + That ever ye was a man." + + "O my horse shall eat the good white meal, + And ye sall eat the corn; + Then will ye curse the heavy hour + That ever your love was born." 60 + + ["O I shall eat the good white meal, + And your horse shall eat the corn;][L62] + I ay sall bless the happy hour + That ever my love was born." + + O four and twenty gay ladies 65 + Welcom'd lord John to the ha', + But a fairer lady than them a' + Led his horse to the stable sta.' + + O four and twenty gay ladies + Welcom'd lord John to the green; 70 + But a fairer lady than them a' + At the manger stood alane. + + When bells were rung, and mass was sung, + And a' men boun to meat, + Burd Ellen was at the bye-table 75 + Amang the pages set. + + "O eat and drink, my bonny boy, + The white bread and the beer."-- + "The never a bit can I eat or drink, + My heart's sae fu' o' fear." 80 + + "O eat and drink, my bonny boy, + The white bread and the wine."-- + "O how sall I eat or drink, master, + Wi' heart sae fu' o' pine?" + + But out and spak lord John's mother, 85 + And a wise woman was she: + "Whare met ye wi' that bonny boy, + That looks sae sad on thee? + + Sometimes his cheek is rosy red, + And sometimes deadly wan; 90 + He's liker a woman big wi' bairn, + Than a young lord's serving man." + + "O it makes me laugh, my mother dear, + Sic words to hear frae thee; + He is a squire's ae dearest son, 95 + That for love has followed me. + + "Rise up, rise up, my bonny boy, + Gi'e my horse corn and hay."-- + "O that I will, my master dear, + As quickly as I may." 100 + + She's ta'en the hay under her arm, + The corn intill her hand, + And she's gane to the great stable, + As fast as e'er she can. + + "O room ye round, my bonny brown steeds, 105 + O room ye near the wa'; + For the pain that strikes me through my sides + Full soon will gar me fa'." + + She lean'd her back against the wa'; + Strong travel came her on; 110 + And e'en amang the great horse feet + Burd Ellen brought forth her son. + + Lord Johnis mither intill her bower + Was sitting all alane, + When, in the silence o' the nicht, 115 + She heard Burd Ellen's mane. + + "Won up, won up, my son," she says, + "Gae see how a' does fare; + For I think I hear a woman's groans, + And a bairnie greetin' sair." 120 + + O hastily he gat him up, + Staid neither for hose nor shoon, + And he's doen him to the stable door + Wi' the clear light o' the moon. + + He strack the door hard wi' his foot, 125 + Sae has he wi' his knee, + And iron locks and iron bars + Into the floor flung he: + "Be not afraid, Burd Ellen," he says, + "There's nane come in but me. 130 + + "Tak up, tak up my bonny young son; + Gar wash him wi' the milk; + Tak up, tak up my fair lady, + Gar row her in the silk. + + "And cheer thee up, Burd Ellen," he says, 135 + "Look nae mair sad nor wae; + For your marriage and your kirkin too + Sall baith be in ae day." + +62,63, according to Jamieson, the same as vv. 54, 55, but here formed on +their model, from 57, 58. + + + + +ERLINTON. + + +First published in the _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, ii. +351,--"from the collation of two copies obtained from recitation." + +_Erlinton_ and _The Child of Elle_ are corrupt varieties of _The Douglas +Tragedy_. The passage referred to in vol. ii. p. 114, is remarked on in +a note at the end of the ballad. + + Erlinton had a fair daughter; + I wat he weird her in a great sin, + For he has built a bigly bower, + An' a' to put that lady in. + + An' he has warn'd her sisters six, 5 + An' sae has he her brethren se'en, + Outher to watch her a' the night, + Or else to seek her morn an e'en. + + She hadna been i' that bigly bower, + Na not a night, but barely ane, 10 + Till there was Willie, her ain true love, + Chapp'd at the door, cryin', "Peace within!" + + "O whae is this at my bower door, + That chaps sae late, or kens the gin?" + "O it is Willie, your ain true love, 15 + I pray you rise an' let me in!" + + "But in my bower there is a wake, + An' at the wake there is a wane; + But I'll come to the green-wood the morn, + Whar blooms the brier, by mornin' dawn." 20 + + Then she's gane to her bed again, + Where she has layen till the cock crew thrice, + Then she said to her sisters a', + "Maidens, 'tis time for us to rise." + + She pat on her back her silken gown, 25 + An' on her breast a siller pin, + An' she's ta'en a sister in ilka hand, + An' to the green-wood she is gane. + + She hadna walk'd in the green-wood, + Na not a mile but barely ane, 30 + Till there was Willie, her ain true love, + Wha frae her sisters has her ta'en. + + He took her sisters by the hand, + He kiss'd them baith, an' sent them hame, + An' he's ta'en his true love him behind, 35 + And through the green-wood they are gane. + + They hadna ridden in the bonnie green-wood, + Na not a mile but barely ane, + When there came fifteen o' the boldest knights, + That ever bare flesh, blood, or bane. 40 + + The foremost was an aged knight, + He wore the grey hair on his chin: + Says, "Yield to me thy lady bright, + An' thou shalt walk the woods within." + + "For me to yield my lady bright 45 + To such an aged knight as thee, + People wad think I war gane mad, + Or a' the courage flown frae me." + + But up then spake the second knight, + I wat he spake right boustouslie: 50 + "Yield me thy life, or thy lady bright, + Or here the tane of us shall die." + + "My lady is my warld's meed;[L53] + My life I winna yield to nane; + But if ye be men of your manhead, 55 + Ye'll only fight me ane by ane." + + He lighted aff his milk-white steed, + An' gae his lady him by the head, + Say'n, "See ye dinna change your cheer, + Untill ye see my body bleed." 60 + + He set his back unto an aik, + He set his feet against a stane, + An' he has fought these fifteen men, + An' kill'd them a' but barely ane; + For he has left that aged knight, 65 + An' a' to carry the tidings hame. + + When he gaed to his lady fair, + I wat he kiss'd her tenderlie: + "Thou art mine ain love, I have thee bought; + Now we shall walk the green-wood free." 70 + +53, Should we not read _warld's mate_? + +NOTE to v. 59, 60. + + "Say'n, 'See ye dinna change your cheer, + Untill ye see my body bleed.'" + +As has been remarked (vol. ii. p. 114), _Erlinton_ retains an important, +and even fundamental trait of the older forms of the story, which is not +found in any other of the English versions of the _Douglas Tragedy_. It +was a northern superstition that to call a man by name while he was +engaged in fight was a fatal omen, and hence a phrase, "to +name-to-death." To avert this danger, Ribolt, in nearly all the +Scandinavian ballads, entreats Guldborg not to _pronounce his name_, +even if she sees him bleeding or struck down. In her agony at seeing the +last of her brothers about to be slain, Guldborg forgets her lover's +injunction, calls on him by name to stop, and thus brings about the +catastrophe. Ignorant reciters have either dropped the corresponding +passage in the English ballad, or (as in this case) have so corrupted +it, that its significance is only to be made out by comparison with the +ancient copies. + + + + +THE CHILD OF ELLE. + + +"From a fragment in the Editor's folio MS., which, though extremely +defective and mutilated, appeared to have so much merit, that it excited +a strong desire to attempt the completion of the story. The reader will +easily discover the supplemental stanzas by their inferiority, and at +the same time be inclined to pardon it, when he considers how difficult +it must be to imitate the affecting simplicity and artless beauties of +the original." PERCY, _Reliques_, i. 113. (See vol. ii. p. 114.) + +It must be acknowledged that this truly modest apology was not +altogether uncalled for. So extensive are Percy's alterations and +additions, that the reader will have no slight difficulty in detecting +the few traces that are left of the genuine composition. Nevertheless, +Sir Walter Scott avers that the corrections are "in the true style of +Gothic embellishment!" + + On yonder hill a castle standes, + With walles and towres bedight, + And yonder lives the Child of Elle, + A younge and comely knighte. + + The Child of Elle to his garden wente, 5 + And stood at his garden pale, + Whan, lo! he beheld fair Emmelines page + Come trippinge downe the dale. + + The Child of Elle he hyed him thence, + Ywis he stoode not stille, 10 + And soone he mette faire Emmelines page + Come climbing up the hille. + + "Nowe Christe thee save, thou little foot-page, + Now Christe thee save and see! + Oh telle me how does thy ladye gaye, 15 + And what may thy tydinges bee?" + + "My lady shee is all woe-begone, + And the teares they falle from her eyne; + And aye she laments the deadlye feude + Betweene her house and thine." 20 + + "And here shee sends thee a silken scarfe, + Bedewde with many a teare, + And biddes thee sometimes thinke on her, + Who loved thee so deare. + + "And here shee sends thee a ring of golde, 25 + The last boone thou mayst have, + And biddes thee weare it for her sake, + Whan she is layde in grave. + + "For, ah! her gentle heart is broke, + And in grave soone must shee bee, 30 + Sith her father hath chose her a new, new love, + And forbidde her to think of thee. + + "Her father hath brought her a carlish knight, + Sir John of the north countraye, + And within three dayes shee must him wedde, 35 + Or he vowes he will her slaye." + + "Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page, + And greet thy ladye from mee, + And telle her that I, her owne true love, + Will dye, or sette her free. 40 + + "Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page, + And let thy fair ladye know, + This night will I bee at her bowre-windowe, + Betide me weale or woe." + + The boye he tripped, the boye he ranne, 45 + He neither stint ne stayd, + Untill he came to fair Emmelines bowre, + Whan kneeling downe he sayd: + + "O ladye, Ive been with thy own true love, + And he greets thee well by mee; 50 + This night will he bee at thy bowre-windowe, + And dye or sette thee free." + + Nowe daye was gone, and night was come, + And all were fast asleepe, + All save the ladye Emmeline, 55 + Who sate in her bowre to weepe: + + And soone shee heard her true loves voice + Lowe whispering at the walle: + "Awake, awake, my deare ladye, + Tis I, thy true love, call. 60 + + "Awake, awake, my ladye deare, + Come, mount this faire palfraye: + This ladder of ropes will lette thee downe, + Ile carrye thee hence awaye." + + "Nowe nay, nowe nay, thou gentle knight, 65 + Nowe nay, this may not bee; + For aye sould I tint my maiden fame, + If alone I should wend with thee." + + "O ladye, thou with a knight so true + Mayst safelye wend alone; 70 + To my ladye mother I will thee bringe, + Where marriage shall make us one." + + "My father he is a baron bolde, + Of lynage proude and hye; + And what would he saye if his daughter 75 + Awaye with a knight should fly? + + "Ah! well I wot, he never would rest, + Nor his meate should doe him no goode, + Till he had slayne thee, Child of Elle, + And seene thy deare hearts bloode." 80 + + "O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette, + And a little space him fro, + I would not care for thy cruel father, + Nor the worst that he could doe. + + "O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette, 85 + And once without this walle, + I would not care for thy cruel father, + Nor the worst that might befalle." + + Faire Emmeline sighed, faire Emmeline wept, + And aye her heart was woe: 90 + At length he seizde her lilly-white hand, + And downe the ladder he drewe. + + And thrice he claspde her to his breste, + And kist her tenderlie: + The teares that fell from her fair eyes, 95 + Ranne like the fountayne free. + + Hee mounted himselfe on his steede so talle, + And her on a faire palfraye, + And slung his bugle about his necke, + And roundlye they rode awaye. 100 + + All this beheard her owne damselle, + In her bed whereas shee ley; + Quoth shee, "My lord shall knowe of this, + Soe I shall have golde and fee. + + "Awake, awake, thou baron bolde! 105 + Awake, my noble dame! + Your daughter is fledde with the Childe of Elle, + To doe the deede of shame." + + The baron he woke, the baron he rose, + And called his merrye men all: 110 + "And come thou forth, Sir John the knighte; + The ladye is carried to thrall." + + Fair Emmeline scant had ridden a mile, + A mile forth of the towne, + When she was aware of her fathers men 115 + Come galloping over the downe. + + And foremost came the carlish knight, + Sir John of the north countraye: + "Nowe stop, nowe stop, thou false traitoure, + Nor carry that ladye awaye. 120 + + "For she is come of hye lynage, + And was of a ladye borne, + And ill it beseems thee, a false churles sonne, + To carrye her hence to scorne." + + "Nowe loud thou lyest, Sir John the knight, 125 + Nowe thou doest lye of mee; + A knight mee gott, and a ladye me bore, + Soe never did none by thee. + + "But light nowe downe, my ladye faire, + Light downe, and hold my steed, 130 + While I and this discourteous knighte + Doe trye this arduous deede. + + "But light now downe, my deare ladye, + Light downe, and hold my horse; + While I and this discourteous knight 135 + Doe trye our valours force." + + Fair Emmeline sighde, fair Emmeline wept, + And aye her heart was woe, + While twixt her love and the carlish knight + Past many a baleful blowe. 140 + + The Child of Elle hee fought soe well, + As his weapon he wavde amaine, + That soone he had slaine the carlish knight, + And layde him upon the plaine. + + And nowe the baron, and all his men 145 + Full fast approached nye: + Ah! what may ladye Emmeline doe? + Twere now no boote to flye. + + Her lover he put his horne to his mouth, + And blew both loud and shrill, 150 + And soone he saw his owne merry men + Come ryding over the hill. + + "Nowe hold thy hand, thou bold baron, + I pray thee, hold thy hand, + Nor ruthless rend two gentle hearts, 155 + Fast knit in true loves band. + + "Thy daughter I have dearly lovde + Full long and many a day; + But with such love as holy kirke + Hath freelye sayd wee may. 160 + + "O give consent shee may be mine, + And blesse a faithfull paire; + My lands and livings are not small, + My house and lynage faire. + + "My mother she was an earles daughter, 165 + And a noble knyght my sire----" + The baron he frownde, and turnde away + With mickle dole and ire. + + Fair Emmeline sighde, faire Emmeline wept, + And did all tremblinge stand; 170 + At lengthe she sprange upon her knee, + And held his lifted hand. + + "Pardon, my lorde and father deare, + This faire yong knyght and mee: + Trust me, but for the carlish knyght, 175 + I never had fled from thee. + + "Oft have you callde your Emmeline + Your darling and your joye; + O let not then your harsh resolves + Your Emmeline destroye." 180 + + The baron he stroakt his dark-brown cheeke, + And turnde his heade asyde, + To wipe awaye the starting teare, + He proudly strave to hyde. + + In deepe revolving thought he stoode, 185 + And musde a little space; + Then raisde faire Emmeline from the grounde, + With many a fond embrace. + + "Here take her, Child of Elle," he sayd, + And gave her lillye hand; 190 + "Here take my deare and only child, + And with her half my land. + + "Thy father once mine honour wrongde, + In dayes of youthful pride; + Do thou the injurye repayre 195 + In fondnesse for thy bride. + + "And as thou love her and hold her deare, + Heaven prosper thee and thine; + And nowe my blessing wend wi' thee, + My lovelye Emmeline." 200 + + + + +SIR ALDINGAR. + + +Of this very remarkable ballad two copies have been printed in English, +_Sir Aldingar_, from the Percy MS. (_Reliques_, ii. 53), "with +conjectural emendations and the insertion of some additional stanzas," +and _Sir Hugh Le Blond_, by Scott, from recitation. The corresponding +Danish ballad, _Ravengaard og Memering_, first published by Grundtvig, +is extant in not less than five copies, the oldest derived from a MS. of +the middle of the 16th century, the others from recent recitations. With +these Grundtvig has given an Icelandic version, from a MS. of the 17th +century, another in the dialect of the Faroe Islands, and a third half +Danish, half Faroish, both as still sung by the people. The ballad was +also preserved, not long ago, in Norway.--_Danmarks Gamle Folkeviser_, +i. 177-213, ii. 640-645. + +All these ballads contain a story one and the same in the essential +features--a story which occurs repeatedly in connection with historical +personages, in Germany, France, Italy, and Spain, as well as +England,--and which has also furnished the theme for various modern +romances, poems, and tragedies. The connection of the different forms +of the legend has been investigated by the Danish editor at considerable +length and with signal ability; and we shall endeavor to present the +principal results of his wide research in the few pages which our narrow +limits allow us to give to such questions. + +The names of the characters in the Danish ballads are Henry (called Duke +of Brunswick and of Schleswig in the oldest), Gunild (of Spires, called +also Gunder), Ravengaard, and Memering. To these correspond, in the +English story, King Henry, Queen Eleanor, Sir Aldingar (the resemblance +of this name to Ravengaard will be noted), and a boy, to whom no name is +assigned. Eleanor, it hardly need be remarked, is a queen's name +somewhat freely used in ballads (see vol. vi. 209, and vol. vii. 291), +and it is possible that the consort of Henry II. is here intended, +though her reputation both in history and in song hardly favors that +supposition. + +The occurrence of Spires in the old Danish ballad would naturally induce +us to look for the origin of the story in the annals of the German +emperors of the Franconian line, who held their court at Spires, and are +most of them buried in the cathedral at that place. A very promising +clue is immediately found in the history of King (afterwards Emperor) +Henry III., son of the Emperor Conrad II. Salicus. This Henry was +married, in the year 1036, to Gunhild, daughter of Canute the Great. An +English chronicler, William of Malmesbury, writing in the first half of +the 12th century, tells us that after this princess had lived many years +in honorable wedlock, she was accused of adultery. Being forced to clear +herself by wager of battle, she found in all her retinue no one who was +willing to risk a combat with her accuser, a man of gigantic stature, +save a little boy whom she had brought with her from England. The issue +of the duel established her innocence,--her diminutive champion +succeeding by some miracle in ham-stringing his huge adversary; but it +is alleged that the queen refused to return to her husband, and passed +the rest of a long life in a monastery.[3] + +[3] "Although there are seven centuries between William and our times," +says Grundtvig, "and the North Sea between Jutland and the land of his +birth, it almost seems as if he had taken his account from the very +ballad which is at this day sung on the little island of Fuur in the Lym +Fiord." + +A Norman-French _Life of Edward the Confessor_, written about 1250, +repeats this story, and adds the champion's name.[4] + +[4] We have substituted this paragraph instead of a later chronicle +cited by Grundtvig. The translation is that of the English editor: +_Lives of Edward the Confessor_ (p. 39, 193), recently published by +authority of the British government. + + "A daughter had the king, + Who was not so beautiful as clever. + Gunnild her name; and he gave her + To him who with love had asked for her,-- + The noble Emperor Henry. + She remained not long with him, + Because by felons, who had no reason + To blame her calumniously, + She was charged with shame: + To the Emperor was she accused. + According to the custom of the empire, + It behoved her to clear herself from shame + By battle; and she takes much trouble + To find one to be her champion: + But finds no one, for very huge was + The accuser,--as a giant. + But a dwarf, whom she had brought up, + Undertook the fight with him. + At the first blow he hamstrung him; + At the second he cut off his feet. + Mimecan was the dwarf's name, + Who was so good a champion, + As the history, which is written, + Says of him. The lady was freed from blame, + But the lady the emperor + No more will have as her lord." + +Finally, John Brompton, writing two hundred years after William of +Malmesbury, repeats his account, and gives the names of _both_ the +combatants,--"a youth called Mimicon, and a man of gigantic size, by +name Roddyngar" (Raadengard = the Danish Ravengaard). + +The story of William of Malmesbury and the rest, though it is +sufficiently in accordance with the Danish and English ballads, is in +direct opposition to the testimony of contemporary German chroniclers, +who represent Queen Gunhild as living on the best terms with her +husband, and instead of growing old in God's service in a nunnery, as +dying of the plague in Italy two years after her marriage, and hardly +twenty years of age. It is manifest, therefore, that the English +chroniclers derived their accounts from ballads current at their day,[5] +which, as they were not founded on any real passages in the life of +Gunhild, require us to look a little further for their origin. + +[5] William of Malmesbury refers to ballads which were made on the +splendid nuptial procession, by which Gunhild was conducted to the ship +that was to bear her to her husband, as still sung about the streets in +his time. + +The empress Gunhild was called by the German chroniclers of her day by +various names--as Cunihild, Chunihild, Chunelind, and _Cunigund_, which +last name she is said to have assumed at her coronation. This change of +Gunhild's name accounts for the unfounded scandals which were in +circulation about her in her native land, scarcely a hundred years after +her death. Cunigund, wife of Henry III., was in fact confounded with a +contemporary German queen and empress, _St. Cunigund_, widow of the +Emperor Henry II. This mistake, which has been made more than once, will +be acknowledged to be a very natural one (especially for foreigners), +when it is considered that both queens not only bore the same name, but +were married each to an emperor of the same name (Henry), both of whom +again were sons of Conrads.[6] + +[6] An argument in confirmation of what is here said is afforded by a +German annalist of the 14th century, who states, under the date 1038, +that the empress Cunigund died the 3d of March, and was buried at +Spires. Now St. Cunigund actually did die the 3d of March, and that day +is dedicated to her in the Roman calendar, but the year was 1040, and +she was buried at Bamberg, while Gunhild died in 1038 (July 18), and was +buried in the monastery of Limburg, near Spires. + +Referring now to the history of St. Cunigund, we read in the papal bull +of Innocent III., by which she was canonized in the year 1200, that "she +consecrated her virginity to the Lord, and preserved it intact,--so +that when at one time by the instigation of the enemy of mankind a +suspicion had been raised against her, she, to prove her innocence, +walked with bare feet over burning ploughshares, and came off +unscathed." Again, we read in a slightly more recent German chronicle, +as follows: "The Devil, who hates all the righteous, and is ever seeking +to bring them to shame, stirred up the Emperor against his wife, +persuading him, through a certain duke, that in contempt of her husband +she had committed adultery with another man. The empress offered to +undergo an ordeal, and a great many bishops came to see it carried out. +Whereupon seven glowing ploughshares were laid on the ground, over which +the empress was forced to walk in bare feet, to attest her innocence, +... which, when the king saw, he prostrated himself before her with all +his nobles." Adalbert's Life of St. Henry (which is, at the latest, of +the 12th century), agreeing in all essentials with these accounts, adds +an important particular, explaining how it was that the Devil brought +the queen's honor into question, namely, that he was seen by many to go +in and out of her private chamber, in the likeness of a handsome young +man.--St. Cunigund is said to have undergone the ordeal at Bamberg, in +the year 1017. The story, however, is without foundation, not being +mentioned by any contemporary writers, but first appearing in various +legends, towards the year 1200. + +But St. Cunigund is by no means the first German empress of whom the +story under consideration is told. A writer contemporary with her, who +has nothing to say about the miracle just recounted, relates something +very similar of _another_ empress, one hundred and thirty years earlier, +namely, of Richardis, wife of Charles III. The tale runs that this +Charles, in the year 887, accused his queen of unlawful connection with +a Bishop. Her Majesty offered to subject herself to the Judgment of God, +either by duel or by the ordeal of burning ploughshares. It is not said +that either test was applied, but only that the queen retired into a +cloister which she had herself founded. This is the contemporary +account. A century and a half later we are told that an ordeal by +_water_ was actually undergone, which again is changed by later writers +into an ordeal by _fire_,--the empress passing through the flames in a +waxed garment, without receiving the least harm; in memory of which, a +day was kept, five centuries after, in honor of St. Richardis, in the +monastery to which she withdrew. + +Several other similar cases might be mentioned, but it will suffice to +refer to only one more, more ancient than any of those already cited. +Paulus Diaconus (who wrote about the year 800) relates that a Lombard +queen, Gundiberg (of the 7th century), having been charged with +infidelity, one of her servants asked permission of the king to fight in +the lists for his mistress's honor, and conquered his antagonist in the +presence of all the people. The same story is told, more in detail, by +Aimoin, a somewhat more recent writer, of another Gundeberg, likewise of +the 7th century. A Lombard nobleman makes insolent proposals to his +queen, and meets with a most emphatic repulse. Upon this he goes to the +king with a story that the queen has been three days conspiring to +poison her husband, and put her accomplice in his place. The tale is +believed, and the queen shut up in prison. The Frankish king, a relation +of the injured woman, remonstrates on the injustice of condemnation +without trial, and the king consents to submit the question to a duel. +The champion of innocence is victorious, and the real criminal is +condignly punished. This form of the legend, the oldest of all that have +been cited, approaches very near to the Danish and English ballads. + +Our conclusion would therefore be, with Grundtvig, that the ballads of +_Sir Aldingar_, _Ravengaard and Memering_, and the rest, are of common +derivation with the legends of St. Cunigund, Gundeberg, &c., and that +all these are offshoots of a story which, "beginning far back in the +infancy of the Gothic race and their poetry, is continually turning up, +now here and now there, without having a proper home in any definite +time or assignable place." Many circumstances corroborative of this view +might be added, but we must content ourselves with obviating a possible +objection. An invariable feature in the story is the _judicium Dei_ by +which the innocence of the accused wife is established, but there is +much difference in the various forms of the legend as to the _kind_ of +ordeal employed, and some minds may here find difficulty. A close +observation, however, will show such a connection between the different +accounts as to prove an original unity. Even the earlier legends of St. +Cunigund do not agree on this point; one makes her to have walked over +burning ploughshares, another to have carried red-hot iron in her hands. +The Icelandic copy of the ballad has both of these: the queen "carries +iron and walks on steel"; and there is also a "judgment by iron bands." +All these three tests are found in the Faroe ballad, which brings in +Memering besides, and thus furnishes a transition to the Danish, which +says nothing about the trial by fire, and has only the duel. Finally the +English ballad completes the circle with the pile at which the queen was +to be burned, in case she should not be able to prove her innocence by +the duel. + +At a time uncertain, but earlier than the 14th century, this legend was +transplanted into the literature of Southern Europe. It is found in +various Spanish chronicles, the earliest the _Historia de Catalu[~n]a_ +of Bernardo Desclot, written about 1300; also in a Proven[c,]al and a +French chronicle of the 17th century. In most of these the part of the +queen's champion is assigned to the well-known Raimund Berengar, Count +of Barcelona, who, in the year 1113, took Majorca from the Moors. The +popularity of the story is further proved by the Spanish romance, _El +Conde de Barcelona y la Emperatriz de Alemania_; the French romance +_L'Histoire de Palanus, Comte de Lyon_; and a novel of Bandello, the +44th of the Second Part. This last was re-written and published in 1713, +with slight changes, as an original tale, by M^{me} de Fontaines +(_Histoire de la Comtesse de Savoie_), whence Voltaire borrowed +materials for two of his tragedies, _Tancr[e']de_ and _Art['e]mire_. + +By the circuitous route of Spain the story returns to England in a +romance of the 15th century, _The Erle of Tolous_ (Ritson, _Metr. Rom._ +iii. p. 93). Nearly related with this romance is the German story-book +(derived from the French) on which Hans Sachs founded his tragedy, _Der +Ritter Golmi mit der Herzogin auss Britanien_. Another German popular +story-book, _Hirlanda_, exhibits a close resemblance to our ballad of +_Sir Aldingar_.[7] + +[7] In [S] v. of his Introduction to _Ravengaard og Memering_, Grundtvig +seeks to show that this ballad, though independent in its origin, was at +one time, like many others, woven into the great South-Gothic epic of +Diderik of Bern, and then, having divided the legend into two +portions,--the Accusation and its Cause, the Vindication and its +Mode,--he, in [S] vi. vii. traces out with wonderful learning and +penetration the extensive ramifications of the first part, taken by +itself, through the romance of the Middle Ages. The whole essay is +beyond praise. + +"This old fabulous legend is given from the editor's folio MS., with +conjectural emendations, and the insertion of some additional stanzas to +supply and complete the story. It has been suggested to the editor that +the author of the poem seems to have had in his eye the story of +Gunhilda, who is sometimes called Eleanor (?), and was married to the +emperor (here called king) Henry."--PERCY. + + Our king he kept a false stewarde, + Sir Aldingar they him call; + A falser steward than he was one, + Servde not in bower nor hall. + + He wolde have layne by our comelye queene, 5 + Her deere worshippe to betraye; + Our queene she was a good woman, + And evermore said him naye. + + Sir Aldingar was wrothe in his mind, + With her hee was never content, 10 + Till traiterous meanes he colde devyse, + In a fyer to have her brent. + + There came a lazar to the kings gate, + A lazar both blinde and lame; + He tooke the lazar upon his backe, 15 + Him on the queenes bed has layne. + + "Lye still, lazar, wheras thou lyest, + Looke thou goe not hence away; + Ile make thee a whole man and a sound + In two howers of the day." 20 + + Then went him forth Sir Aldingar, + And hyed him to our king: + "If I might have grace, as I have space, + Sad tydings I could bring." + + "Say on, say on, Sir Aldingar, 25 + Saye on the soothe to mee." + "Our queene hath chosen a new, new love, + And shee will have none of thee. + + "If shee had chosen a right good knight, + The lesse had beene her shame; 30 + But she hath chose her a lazar man, + A lazar both blinde and lame." + + "If this be true, thou Aldingar, + The tyding thou tellest to me, + Then will I make thee a rich, rich knight, 35 + Rich both of golde and fee. + + "But if it be false, Sir Aldingar, + As God nowe grant it bee! + Thy body, I sweare by the holye rood, + Shall hang on the gallows tree." 40 + + He brought our king to the queenes chamber, + And opend to him the dore: + "A lodlye love," King Harry says, + "For our queene," dame Elinore! + + "If thou were a man, as thou art none, 45 + Here on my sword thoust dye; + But a payre of new gallowes shall be built, + And there shalt thou hang on hye." + + Forth then hyed our king, iwysse, + And an angry man was hee, 50 + And soone he found queene Elinore, + That bride so bright of blee. + + "Now God you save, our queene, madame, + And Christ you save and see! + Here you have chosen a newe, newe love, 55 + And you will have none of mee. + + "If you had chosen a right good knight, + The lesse had been your shame; + But you have chose you a lazar man, + A lazar both blinde and lame. 60 + + "Therfore a fyer there shall be built, + And brent all shalt thou bee."-- + "Now out, alacke!" said our comly queene, + "Sir Aldingar's false to mee. + + "Now out, alacke!" sayd our comlye queene, 65 + "My heart with griefe will brast: + I had thought swevens had never been true, + I have proved them true at last. + + "I dreamt in my sweven on Thursday eve, + In my bed wheras I laye, 70 + I dreamt a grype and a grimlie beast + Had carryed my crowne awaye; + + "My gorgett and my kirtle of golde, + And all my faire head-geere; + And he wold worrye me with his tush, 75 + And to his nest y-beare: + + "Saving there came a little gray hawke, + A merlin him they call, + Which untill the grounde did strike the grype, + That dead he downe did fall. 80 + + "Giffe I were a man, as now I am none, + A battell wold I prove, + To fight with that traitor Aldingar: + Att him I cast my glove. + + "But seeing Ime able noe battell to make, 85 + My liege, grant me a knight + To fight with that traitor, Sir Aldingar, + To maintaine me in my right." + + "Now forty dayes I will give thee + To seeke thee a knight therin: 90 + If thou find not a knight in forty dayes, + Thy bodye it must brenn." + + Then shee sent east, and shee sent west, + By north and south bedeene; + But never a champion colde she find, 95 + Wolde fight with that knight soe keene. + + Now twenty dayes were spent and gone, + Noe helpe there might be had; + Many a teare shed our comelye queene, + And aye her hart was sad. 100 + + Then came one of the queenes damselles, + And knelt upon her knee: + Cheare up, cheare up, my gracious dame, + I trust yet helpe may be. + + "And here I will make mine avowe, 105 + And with the same me binde, + That never will I return to thee, + Till I some helpe may finde." + + Then forth she rode on a faire palfraye, + Oer hill and dale about; 110 + But never a champion colde she finde, + Wolde fighte with that knight so stout. + + And nowe the daye drewe on apace, + When our good queene must dye; + All woe-begone was that fair damselle, 115 + When she found no helpe was nye. + + All woe-begone was that faire damselle, + And the salt teares fell from her eye; + When lo! as she rode by a rivers side, + She met with a tinye boye. 120 + + A tinye boy she mette, God wot, + All clad in mantle of golde; + He seemed noe more in mans likenesse, + Then a childe of four yeere olde. + + "Why grieve you, damselle faire?" he sayd, 125 + "And what doth cause you moane?" + The damsell scant wolde deigne a looke, + But fast she pricked on. + + "Yet turne againe, thou faire damselle, + And greete thy queene from mee; 130 + When bale is at hyest, boote is nyest; + Nowe helpe enoughe may bee. + + "Bid her remember what she dreamt, + In her bedd wheras shee laye; + How when the grype and the grimly beast 135 + Wolde have carried her crowne awaye, + + "Even then there came the little gray hawke, + And saved her from his clawes: + Then bidd the queene be merry at hart, + For heaven will fende her cause." 140 + + Back then rode that fair damselle, + And her hart it lept for glee: + And when she told her gracious dame, + A gladd woman then was shee. + + But when the appointed day was come, 145 + No helpe appeared nye; + Then woeful woeful was her hart, + And the teares stood in her eye. + + And nowe a fyer was built of wood, + And a stake was made of tree; 150 + And now queene Elinor forth was led, + A sorrowful sight to see. + + Three times the herault he waved his hand, + And three times spake on hye; + "Giff any good knight will fende this dame, 155 + Come forth, or shee must dye." + + No knight stood forth, no knight there came, + No helpe appeared nye; + And now the fyer was lighted up, + Queene Elinor she must dye. 160 + + And now the fyer was lighted up, + As hot as hot might bee; + When riding upon a little white steed, + The tinye boye they see. + + "Away with that stake, away with those brands, 165 + And loose our comelye queene: + I am come to fight with Sir Aldingar, + And prove him a traitor keene." + + Forth then stood Sir Aldingar; + But when he saw the chylde, 170 + He laughed, and scoffed, and turned his backe, + And weened he had been beguylde. + + "Now turne, now turne thee, Aldingar, + And eyther fighte or flee; + I trust that I shall avenge the wronge, 175 + Thoughe I am so small to see." + + The boye pulld forth a well good sworde, + So gilt it dazzled the ee; + The first stroke stricken at Aldingar + Smote off his leggs by the knee. 180 + + "Stand up, stand up, thou false traitor, + And fighte upon thy feete, + For, and thou thrive as thou beginst, + Of height wee shall be meete." + + "A priest, a priest," sayes Aldingar, 185 + "While I am a man alive; + "A priest, a priest," sayes Aldingar, + "Me for to houzle and shrive. + + "I wolde have laine by our comlie queene, + But shee wolde never consent; 190 + Then I thought to betraye her unto our kinge, + In a fyer to have her brent. + + "There came a lazar to the kings gates, + A lazar both blind and lame; + I tooke the lazar upon my backe, 195 + And on her bedd had him layne. + + "Then ranne I to our comlye king, + These tidings sore to tell: + But ever alacke!" sayes Aldingar, + "Falsing never doth well. 200 + + "Forgive, forgive me, queene, madame, + The short time I must live:" + "Nowe Christ forgive thee, Aldingar, + As freely I forgive." + + "Here take thy queene, our King Harrye, 205 + And love her as thy life, + For never had a king in Christentye + A truer and fairer wife." + + King Harrye ran to claspe his queene, + And loosed her full sone; 210 + Then turnd to look for the tinye boye:-- + The boye was vanisht and gone. + + But first he had touchd the lazar man, + And stroakt him with his hand; + The lazar under the gallowes tree 215 + All whole and sounde did stand. + + The lazar under the gallowes tree + Was comelye, straight, and tall; + King Henrye made him his head stewarde, + To wayte withinn his hall. 220 + + + + +SIR HUGH LE BLOND. + +_Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 51. + + +"The tradition, upon which the ballad is founded, is universally current +in the Mearns; and the Editor is informed, that, till very lately, the +sword, with which Sir Hugh le Blond was believed to have defended the +life and honour of the Queen, was carefully preserved by his +descendants, the Viscounts of Arbuthnot. That Sir Hugh of Arbuthnot +lived in the thirteenth century, is proved by his having, 1282, bestowed +the patronage of the church of Garvoch upon the Monks of Aberbrothwick, +for the safety of his soul.--_Register of Aberbrothwick, quoted by +Crawford in Peerage._ + +"I was favoured with the following copy of _Sir Hugh le Blond_, by K. +Williamson Burnet, Esq. of Monboddo, who wrote it down from the +recitation of an old woman, long in the service of the Arbuthnot +family. Of course, the diction is very much humbled, and it has, in all +probability, undergone many corruptions; but its antiquity is +indubitable, and the story, though indifferently told, is in itself +interesting. It is believed that there have been many more verses." +SCOTT. + + The birds sang sweet as ony bell, + The world had not their make, + The Queen she's gone to her chamber, + With Rodingham to talk. + + "I love you well, my Queen, my dame, 5 + 'Bove land and rents so clear, + And for the love of you, my Queen, + Would thole pain most severe."-- + + "If well you love me, Rodingham, + I'm sure so do I thee: 10 + I love you well as any man, + Save the King's fair bodye."-- + + "I love you well, my Queen, my dame; + 'Tis truth that I do tell: + And for to lye a night with you, 15 + The salt seas I would sail."-- + + "Away, away, O Rodingham! + You are both stark and stoor; + Would you defile the King's own bed, + And make his Queen a whore? 20 + + "To-morrow you'd be taken sure, + And like a traitor slain; + And I'd be burned at a stake, + Although I be the Queen."-- + + He then stepp'd out at her room door, 25 + All in an angry mood: + Until he met a leper-man, + Just by the hard way-side. + + He intoxicate the leper-man, + With liquors very sweet: 30 + And gave him more and more to drink, + Until he fell asleep. + + He took him in his armis twa, + And carried him along, + Till he came to the Queen's own bed, 35 + And there he laid him down. + + He then stepp'd out of the Queen's bower, + As swift as any roe, + 'Till he came to the very place + Where the King himself did go. 40 + + The King said unto Rodingham, + "What news have you to me?"-- + He said, "Your Queen's a false woman, + As I did plainly see."-- + + He hasten'd to the Queen's chamber, 45 + So costly and so fine, + Until he came to the Queen's own bed, + Where the leper-man was lain. + + He looked on the leper-man, + Who lay on his Queen's bed; 50 + He lifted up the snaw-white sheets, + And thus he to him said:-- + + "Plooky, plooky, are your cheeks, + And plooky is your chin, + And plooky are your armis twa, 55 + My bonny Queen's layne in. + + "Since she has lain into your arms, + She shall not lye in mine; + Since she has kiss'd your ugsome mouth, + She never shall kiss mine."-- 60 + + In anger he went to the Queen, + Who fell upon her knee; + He said, "You false, unchaste woman, + What's this you've done to me?" + + The Queen then turn'd herself about, 65 + The tear blinded her ee-- + "There's not a knight in a' your court + Dare give that name to me." + + He said, "'Tis true that I do say; + For I a proof did make: 70 + You shall be taken from my bower, + And burned at a stake. + + "Perhaps I'll take my word again, + And may repent the same, + If that you'll get a Christian man 75 + To fight that Rodingham."-- + + "Alas! alas!" then cried our Queen, + "Alas, and woe to me! + There's not a man in all Scotland + Will fight with him for me."-- 80 + + She breathed unto her messengers, + Sent them south, east, and west; + They could find none to fight with him, + Nor enter the contest. + + She breathed on her messengers, 85 + She sent them to the north; + And there they found Sir Hugh le Blond, + To fight him he came forth. + + When unto him they did unfold + The circumstance all right, 90 + He bade them go and tell the Queen, + That for her he would fight. + + The day came on that was to do + That dreadful tragedy; + Sir Hugh le Blond was not come up 95 + To fight for our ladye. + + "Put on the fire," the monster said: + "It is twelve on the bell." + "'Tis scarcely ten, now," said the King; + "I heard the clock mysell."-- 100 + + Before the hour the Queen is brought, + The burning to proceed; + In a black velvet chair she's set, + A token for the dead. + + She saw the flames ascending high, 105 + The tears blinded her ee: + "Where is the worthy knight," she said, + "Who is to fight for me?"-- + + Then up and spak the King himsell, + "My dearest, have no doubt, 110 + For yonder comes the man himsell, + As bold as e'er set out."-- + + They then advanced to fight the duel + With swords of temper'd steel, + Till down the blood of Rodingham 115 + Came running to his heel. + + Sir Hugh took out a lusty sword, + 'Twas of the metal clear, + And he has pierced Rodingham + Till's heart-blood did appear. 120 + + "Confess your treachery, now," he said, + "This day before you die!"-- + "I do confess my treachery, + I shall no longer lye: + + "I like to wicked Haman am, 125 + This day I shall be slain."-- + The Queen was brought to her chamber, + A good woman again. + + The Queen then said unto the King, + "Arbattle's near the sea; 130 + Give it unto the northern knight, + That this day fought for me." + + Then said the King, "Come here, Sir Knight, + And drink a glass of wine; + And, if Arbattle's not enough,[L135] 135 + To it we'll Fordoun join." + +135. Arbattle is the ancient name of the barony of Arbuthnot. Fordun has +long been the patrimony of the same family. S. + + + + +THE KNIGHT, AND SHEPHERD'S DAUGHTER. + + +"This ballad (given from an old black-letter copy, with some +corrections) was popular in the time of Queen Elizabeth, being usually +printed with her picture before it, as Hearne informs us in his preface +to Gul. Neubrig, _Hist. Oxon_, 1719, 8vo. vol. i. p. lxx. It is quoted +in Fletcher's comedy of the _Pilgrim_, act 4, sc. 2." PERCY'S +_Reliques_, iii. 114. + +The Scottish ballad corresponding to Percy's has been printed by +Kinloch, p. 25. Besides this, however, there are three other Scottish +versions, superior to the English in every respect, and much longer. +They are _Earl Richard_, Motherwell, p. 377; (also in Buchan's _Ballads +of the North of Scotland_, ii. 81;) a ballad with the same title in +Kinloch's collection, p. 15; and _Earl Lithgow_, Buchan, ii. 91. In all +these, the futile attempts of the knight to escape marrying the lady, +and the devices by which she aggravates his reluctance to enter into the +match, are managed with no little humour. We give Motherwell's edition a +place next to Percy's, and refer the reader for Kinloch's to the +Appendix. + + There was a shepherds daughter + Came tripping on the waye, + And there by chance a knighte shee mett, + Which caused her to staye. + + "Good morrowe to you, beauteous maide," 5 + These words pronounced hee; + "O I shall dye this daye," he sayd, + "If Ive not my wille of thee." + + "The Lord forbid," the maide replyd, + "That you shold waxe so wode!" 10 + But for all that shee could do or saye,[L11] + He wold not be withstood. + + "Sith you have had your wille of mee, + And put me to open shame, + Now, if you are a courteous knighte, 15 + Tell me what is your name?" + + "Some do call mee Jacke, sweet heart, + And some do call mee Jille; + But when I come to the kings faire courte, + They calle me Wilfulle Wille." 20 + + He sett his foot into the stirrup, + And awaye then he did ride; + She tuckt her girdle about her middle, + And ranne close by his side. + + But when she came to the brode water, 25 + She sett her brest and swamme; + And when she was got out againe, + She tooke to her heels and ranne. + + He never was the courteous knighte, + To saye, "Faire maide, will ye ride?" 30 + And she was ever too loving a maide + To saye, "Sir knighte, abide." + + When she came to the kings faire courte, + She knocked at the ring; + So readye was the king himself 35 + To let this faire maide in. + + "Now Christ you save, my gracious liege, + Now Christ you save and see; + You have a knighte within your courte + This daye hath robbed mee." 40 + + "What hath he robbed thee of, sweet heart? + Of purple or of pall? + Or hath he took thy gaye gold ring + From off thy finger small?" + + "He hath not robbed mee, my liege, 45 + Of purple nor of pall; + But he hath gotten my maidenhead, + Which grieves mee worst of all." + + "Now if he be a batchelor, + His bodye Ile give to thee; 50 + But if he be a married man, + High hanged he shall bee." + + He called downe his merrye men all, + By one, by two, by three; + Sir William used to bee the first, 55 + But nowe the last came hee. + + He brought her downe full fortye pounde, + Tyed up withinne a glove: + "Faire maid, Ile give the same to thee; + Go, seeke thee another love." 60 + + "O Ile have none of your gold," she sayde, + "Nor Ile have none of your fee; + But your faire bodye I must have, + The king hath granted mee." + + Sir William ranne and fetchd her then 65 + Five hundred pound in golde, + Saying, "Faire maide, take this to thee, + Thy fault will never be tolde." + + "Tis not the gold that shall mee tempt," + These words then answered shee, 70 + "But your own bodye I must have, + The king hath granted mee." + + "Would I had drunke the water cleare, + When I did drinke the wine, + Rather than any shepherds brat 75 + Shold bee a ladye of mine! + + "Would I had drank the puddle foule, + When I did drink the ale, + Rather than ever a shepherds brat + Shold tell me such a tale!" 80 + + "A shepherds brat even as I was, + You mote have let mee bee; + I never had come to the kings faire courte, + To crave any love of thee." + + He sett her on a milk-white steede, 85 + And himself upon a graye; + He hung a bugle about his necke, + And soe they rode awaye. + + But when they came unto the place, + Where marriage-rites were done, 90 + She proved herself a dukes daughter, + And he but a squires sonne. + + "Now marrye me, or not, sir knight, + Your pleasure shall be free: + If you make me ladye of one good towne, 95 + Ile make you lord of three." + + "Ah! cursed bee the gold," he sayd; + "If thou hadst not been trewe, + I shold have forsaken my sweet love, + And have changed her for a newe." 100 + + And now their hearts being linked fast, + They joyned hand in hande: + Thus he had both purse, and person too, + And all at his commande. + +11, 12, Percy's. + + + + +EARL RICHARD (B). + +Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 377. From recitation. + + + Earl Richard once on a day, + And all his valiant men so wight, + He did him down to Barnisdale, + Where all the land is fair and light. + + He was aware of a damosel, 5 + I wot fast on she did her bound, + With towers of gold upon her head, + As fair a woman as could be found. + + He said, "Busk on you, fair ladye, + The white flowers and the red; 10 + For I would give my bonnie ship, + To get your maidenhead." + + "I wish your bonnie ship rent and rive, + And drown you in the sea; + For all this would not mend the miss 15 + That ye would do to me." + "The miss is not so great, ladye, + Soon mended it might be. + + "I have four-and-twenty mills in Scotland, + Stands on the water Tay; 20 + You'll have them, and as much flour + As they'll grind in a day." + + "I wish your bonnie ship rent and rive, + And drown you in the sea; + For all that would not mend the miss 25 + That ye would do for me." + "The miss is not so great, lady, + Soon mended it will be. + + "I have four-and-twenty milk-white cows, + All calved in a day; 30 + You'll have them, and as much hained grass + As they all on can gae." + + "I wish your bonnie ship rent and rive, + And drown ye in the sea; + For all that would not mend the miss 35 + That ye would do to me." + "The miss is not so great, ladye, + Soon mended it might be. + + "I have four-and-twenty milk-white steeds, + All foaled in one year; 40 + You'll have them, and as much red gold + As all their backs can bear." + + She turned her right and round about, + And she swore by the mold, + "I would not be your love," said she, 45 + "For that church full of gold." + + He turned him right and round about, + And he swore by the mass, + Says,--"Lady, ye my love shall be, + And gold ye shall have less." 50 + + She turned her right and round about, + And she swore by the moon, + "I would not be your love," says she, + "For all the gold in Rome." + + He turned him right and round about, 55 + And he swore by the moon, + Says,--"Lady, ye my love shall be, + And gold ye shall have none." + + He caught her by the milk-white hand, + And by the grass-green sleeve; 60 + And there has taken his will of her, + Wholly without her leave. + + The lady frowned and sadly blushed, + And oh! but she thought shame: + Says,--"If you are a knight at all, 65 + You surely will tell me your name." + + "In some places they call me Jack, + In other some they call me John; + But when into the Queen's Court, + Oh then Lithcock it is my name." 70 + + "Lithcock! Lithcock!" the lady said, + And oft she spelt it over again; + "Lithcock! it's Latin," the lady said, + "Richard's the English of that name." + + The Knight he rode, the lady ran,[L75] 75 + A live long summer's day; + Till they came to the wan water + That all men do call Tay. + + He set his horse head to the water, + Just thro' it for to ride; 80 + And the lady was as ready as him + The waters for to wade. + + For he had never been as kind-hearted + As to bid the lady ride; + And she had never been so low-hearted 85 + As for to bid him bide. + + But deep into the wan water + There stands a great big stone; + He turned his wight horse head about, + Said, "Lady fair, will ye loup on?" 90 + + She's taken the wand was in her hand, + And struck it on the foam, + And before he got the middle stream, + The lady was on dry land. + "By help of God and our Lady, 95 + My help lyes not in your hand. + + "I learned it from my mother dear,-- + Few is there that has learned better-- + When I came to a deep water, + I can swim thro' like ony otter. 100 + + "I learned it from my mother dear,-- + I find I learned it for my weel; + When I came to a deep water, + I can swim thro' like ony eel." + + "Turn back, turn back, you lady fair, 105 + You know not what I see; + There is a lady in that castle, + That will burn you and me." + "Betide me weal, betide me wae, + That lady will I see." 110 + + She took a ring from her finger, + And gave't the porter for his fee: + Says, "Tak you that, my good porter, + And bid the Queen speak to me." + + And when she came before the Queen, 115 + There she fell low down on her knee: + Says, "There is a knight into your court, + This day has robbed me." + + "O has he robbed you of your gold, + Or has he robbed you of your fee?" 120 + "He has not robbed me of my gold, + He has not robbed me of my fee; + He has robbed me of my maidenhead, + The fairest flower of my bodie." + + "There is no knight in all my court, 125 + That thus has robbed thee, + But you'll have the truth of his right hand, + Or else for your sake he'll die, + Tho' it were Earl Richard, my own brother; + And oh forbid that it be!" 130 + Then, sighing, said the lady fair, + "I wot the samen man is he." + + The Queen called on her merry men, + Even fifty men and three; + Earl Richard used to be the first man, 135 + But now the hindmost was he. + + He's taken out one hundred pounds, + And told it in his glove: + Says, "Tak you that, my lady fair, + And seek another love." 140 + + "Oh no, oh no," the lady cried, + "That's what shall never be; + I'll have the truth of your right hand, + The Queen it gave to me." + + "I wish I had drunk of your water, sister, 145 + When I did drink your wine; + That for a carle's fair daughter, + It does gar me dree all this pine." + + "May be I am a carle's daughter, + And may be never nane; 150 + When ye met me in the green wood, + Why did you not let me alane?" + + "Will you wear the short clothes, + Or will you wear the side; + Or will you walk to your wedding, 155 + Or will you till it ride?" + + "I will not wear the short clothes, + But I will wear the side; + I will not walk to my wedding, + But I to it will ride." 160 + + When he was set upon the horse, + The lady him behind, + Then cauld and eerie were the words + The twa had them between. + + She said, "Good e'en, ye nettles tall, 165 + Just there where ye grow at the dike; + If the auld carline my mother was here, + Sae weel's she would your pates pike. + + "How she would stap you in her poke, + I wot at that she wadna fail; 170 + And boil ye in her auld brass pan, + And of ye mak right gude kail. + + "And she would meal you with millering + That she gathers at the mill, + And mak you thick as any daigh; 175 + And when the pan was brimful, + + "Would mess you up in scuttle dishes, + Syne bid us sup till we were fou; + Lay down her head upon a poke, + Then sleep and snore like any sow." 180 + + "Away! away! you bad woman, + For all your vile words grieveth me; + When ye heed so little for yourself, + I'm sure ye'll heed far less for me. + + "I wish I had drunk your water, sister, 185 + When that I did drink of your wine; + Since for a carle's fair daughter, + It aye gars me dree all this pine." + + "May be I am a carle's daughter, + And may be never nane; 190 + When ye met me in the good green wood, + Why did you not let me alane? + + "Gude e'en, gude e'en, ye heather berries, + As ye're growing on yon hill; + If the auld carle and his bags were here, 195 + I wot he would get meat his fill. + + "Late, late at night I knit our pokes, + With even four-and-twenty knots; + And in the morn at breakfast time, + I'll carry the keys of an earl's locks. 200 + + "Late, late at night I knit our pokes, + With even four-and-twenty strings; + And if you look to my white fingers, + They have as many gay gold rings." + + "Away! away! ye ill woman, 205 + And sore your vile words grieveth me; + When you heed so little for yourself, + I'm sure ye'll heed far less for me. + + "But if you are a carle's daughter, + As I take you to be, 210 + How did you get the gay clothing, + In green wood ye had on thee?" + + "My mother she's a poor woman, + She nursed earl's children three; + And I got them from a foster sister, 215 + For to beguile such sparks as thee." + + "But if you be a carle's daughter, + As I believe you be, + How did ye learn the good Latin, + In green wood ye spoke to me?" 220 + + "My mother she's a mean woman, + She nursed earl's children three; + I learned it from their chapelain, + To beguile such sparks as ye." + + When mass was sung, and bells were rung, 225 + And all men boune for bed, + Then Earl Richard and this ladye + In ane bed they were laid. + + He turned his face to the stock, + And she hers to the stane; 230 + And cauld and dreary was the luve + That was thir twa between. + + Great was the mirth in the kitchen, + Likewise intill the ha'; + But in his bed lay Earl Richard, 235 + Wiping the tears awa'. + + He wept till he fell fast asleep, + Then slept till licht was come; + Then he did hear the gentlemen + That talked in the room: 240 + + Said,--"Saw ye ever a fitter match, + Betwixt the ane and ither; + The King o' Scotland's fair dochter, + And the Queen of England's brither?" + + "And is she the King o' Scotland's fair dochter? 245 + This day, oh, weel is me! + For seven times has my steed been saddled, + To come to court with thee; + And with this witty lady fair, + How happy must I be!" 250 + +75 et seq. This passage has something in common with _Child Waters_ and +_Burd Ellen_. + + + + +THE GAY GOSS-HAWK. + +From _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 151. + + +"This Ballad is published, partly from one under this title, in Mrs. +Brown's collection, and partly from a MS. of some antiquity, _penes_ +Edit. The stanzas appearing to possess most merit have been selected +from each copy."--SCOTT. + +Annexed is another version from Motherwell's collection. A third, longer +than either, is furnished by Buchan, _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, +ii. 245, _The Scottish Squire_. + + "O waly, waly, my gay goss-hawk, + Gin your feathering be sheen!" + "And waly, waly, my master dear, + Gin ye look pale and lean! + + "O have ye tint, at tournament, 5 + Your sword, or yet your spear? + Or mourn ye for the southern lass, + Whom ye may not win near?" + + "I have not tint, at tournament, + My sword nor yet my spear; 10 + But sair I mourn for my true love, + Wi' mony a bitter tear. + + "But weel's me on ye, my gay goss-hawk, + Ye can baith speak and flee; + Ye sall carry a letter to my love, 15 + Bring an answer back to me." + + "But how sall I your true love find, + Or how suld I her know? + I bear a tongue ne'er wi' her spake, + An eye that ne'er her saw." 20 + + "O weel sall ye my true love ken, + Sae sune as ye her see; + For, of a' the flowers of fair England, + The fairest flower is she. + + "The red, that's on my true love's cheek, 25 + Is like blood-drops on the snaw; + The white, that is on her breast bare, + Like the down o' the white sea-maw + + "And even at my love's bouer-door + There grows a flowering birk; 30 + And ye maun sit and sing thereon + As she gangs to the kirk. + + "And four-and-twenty fair ladyes + Will to the mass repair; + But weel may ye my ladye ken, 35 + The fairest ladye there." + + Lord William has written a love-letter, + Put it under his pinion gray; + And he is awa to southern land + As fast as wings can gae. 40 + + And even at the ladye's bour + There grew a flowering birk; + And he sat down and sung thereon + As she gaed to the kirk. + + And weel he kent that ladye fair 45 + Amang her maidens free; + For the flower that springs in May morning + Was not sae sweet as she. + + He lighted at the ladye's yate, + And sat him on a pin; 50 + And sang fu' sweet the notes o' love, + Till a' was cosh within. + + And first he sang a low, low note, + And syne he sang a clear; + And aye the o'erword o' the sang 55 + Was--"Your love can no win here."-- + + "Feast on, feast on, my maidens a', + The wine flows you amang, + While I gang to my shot-window, + And hear yon bonny bird's sang. 60 + + "Sing on, sing on, my bonny bird, + The sang ye sung yestreen; + For weel I ken, by your sweet singing, + Ye are frae my true love sen." + + O first he sang a merry sang, 65 + And syne he sang a grave; + And syne he pick'd his feathers gray, + To her the letter gave. + + "Have there a letter from Lord William; + He says he's sent ye three; 70 + He canna wait your love langer, + But for your sake he'll die."-- + + "Gae bid him bake his bridal bread, + And brew his bridal ale; + And I shall meet him at Mary's kirk, 75 + Lang, lang ere it be stale." + + The lady's gane to her chamber, + And a moanfu' woman was she; + As gin she had ta'en a sudden brash, + And were about to die. 80 + + "A boon, a boon, my father deir, + A boon I beg of thee!"-- + "Ask not that paughty Scottish lord, + For him you ne'er shall see: + + "But, for your honest asking else, 85 + Weel granted it shall be."-- + "Then, gin I die in Southern land, + In Scotland gar bury me. + + "And the first kirk that ye come to, + Ye's gar the mass be sung; 90 + And the next kirk that ye come to, + Ye's gar the bells be rung. + + "And when you come to St. Mary's kirk, + Ye's tarry there till night." + And so her father pledg'd his word, 95 + And so his promise plight. + + She has ta'en her to her bigly bour + As fast as she could fare; + And she has drank a sleepy draught, + That she had mix'd wi' care. 100 + + And pale, pale, grew her rosy cheek, + That was sae bright of blee, + And she seem'd to be as surely dead + As any one could be. + + Then spake her cruel step-minnie, 105 + "Tak ye the burning lead, + And drap a drap on her bosome, + To try if she be dead." + + They took a drap o' boiling lead, + They drapp'd it on her breast; 110 + "Alas! alas!" her father cried, + "She's dead without the priest." + + She neither chatter'd with her teeth, + Nor shiver'd with her chin; + "Alas! alas!" her father cried, 115 + "There is nae breath within." + + Then up arose her seven brethren, + And hew'd to her a bier; + They hew'd it frae the solid aik, + Laid it o'er wi' silver clear. 120 + + Then up and gat her seven sisters, + And sewed to her a kell; + And every steek that they put in + Sewed to a siller bell. + + The first Scots kirk that they cam to, 125 + They garr'd the bells be rung; + The next Scots kirk that they cam to, + They garr'd the mass be sung. + + But when they cam to St. Mary's kirk, + There stude spearmen all on a raw; 130 + And up and started Lord William, + The chieftane amang them a.' + + "Set down, set down the bier," he said, + "Let me look her upon:" + But as soon as Lord William touch'd her hand, + Her colour began to come. 136 + + She brightened like the lily flower, + Till her pale colour was gone; + With rosy cheek, and ruby lip, + She smiled her love upon. 140 + + "A morsel of your bread, my lord, + And one glass of your wine; + For I hae fasted these three lang days, + All for your sake and mine.-- + + "Gae hame, gae hame, my seven bauld brothers, + Gae hame and blaw your horn! 146 + I trow ye wad hae gi'en me the skaith, + But I've gi'en you the scorn. + + "Commend me to my grey father, + That wished my saul gude rest; 150 + But wae be to my cruel step-dame, + Garr'd burn me on the breast."-- + + "Ah! woe to you, you light woman! + An ill death may ye die! + For we left father and sisters at hame 155 + Breaking their hearts for thee." + + +v. 26. This simile resembles a passage in a MS. translation of an Irish +Fairy tale, called _The Adventures of Faravla, Princess of Scotland, and +Carral O'Daly, Son of Donogho More O'Daly, Chief Bard of Ireland_. +"Faravla, as she entered her bower, cast her looks upon the earth, which +was tinged with the blood of a bird which a raven had newly killed: +'Like that snow,' said Faravla, 'was the complexion of my beloved, his +cheeks like the sanguine traces thereon; whilst the raven recalls to my +memory the colour of his beautiful locks.'" There is also some +resemblance in the conduct of the story, betwixt the ballad and the tale +just quoted. The Princess Faravla, being desperately in love with Carral +O'Daly, despatches in search of him a faithful confidante, who, by her +magical art, transforms herself into a hawk, and, perching upon the +windows of the bard, conveys to him information of the distress of the +Princess of Scotland. SCOTT. + + + + +THE JOLLY GOSHAWK. + +Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 353. + + + "O well is me, my jolly goshawk, + That ye can speak and flee; + For ye can carry a love-letter + To my true love from me." + + "O how can I carry a letter to her, 5 + When her I do not know? + I bear the lips to her never spak, + And the eyes that her never saw." + + "The thing of my love's face that's white + Is that of dove or maw; 10 + The thing of my love's face that's red + Is like blood shed on snaw. + + "And when you come to the castel, + Light on the bush of ash; + And sit you there and sing our loves, 15 + As she comes from the mass. + + "And when she gaes into the house, + Sit ye upon the whin; + And sit you there and sing our loves, + As she goes out and in." 20 + + And when he flew to that castel, + He lighted on the ash; + And there he sat and sung their loves, + As she came from the mass. + + And when she went into the house, 25 + He flew unto the whin; + And there he sat and sung their loves, + As she went out and in. + + "Come hitherward, my maidens all, + And sip red wine anon, 30 + Till I go to my west window, + And hear a birdie's moan." + + She's gane unto her west window, + And fainly aye it drew; + And soon into her white silk lap 35 + The bird the letter threw. + + "Ye're bidden send your love a send, + For he has sent you twa; + And tell him where he can see you, + Or he cannot live ava." 40 + + "I send him the rings from my white fingers, + The garlands off my hair; + I send him the heart that's in my breast: + What would my love have mair? + And at the fourth kirk in fair Scotland, 45 + Ye'll bid him meet me there." + + She hied her to her father dear, + As fast as gang could she: + "An asking, an asking, my father dear, + An asking ye grant me,-- 50 + That, if I die in fair England, + In Scotland gar bury me. + + "At the first kirk of fair Scotland, + You cause the bells be rung; + At the second kirk of fair Scotland, 55 + You cause the mass be sung; + + "At the third kirk of fair Scotland, + You deal gold for my sake; + And at the fourth kirk of fair Scotland, + Oh there you'll bury me at! 60 + + "And now, my tender father dear, + This asking grant you me:" + "Your asking is but small," he said, + "Weel granted it shall be." + + [_The lady asks the same boon and receives a similar answer, first + from her mother, then from her sister, and lastly from her seven + brothers._] + + Then down as dead that lady drapp'd, 65 + Beside her mother's knee; + Then out it spak an auld witch wife, + By the fire-side sat she: + + Says,--"Drap the het lead on her cheek, + And drap it on her chin, 70 + And drap it on her rose red lips, + And she will speak again: + For much a lady young will do, + To her true love to win." + + They drapp'd the het lead on her cheek, 75 + So did they on her chin; + They drapp'd it on her red rose lips, + But they breathed none again. + + Her brothers they went to a room, + To make to her a bier; 80 + The boards of it were cedar wood, + And the plates on it gold so clear. + + Her sisters they went to a room, + To make to her a sark; + The cloth of it was satin fine, 85 + And the steeking silken wark. + + "But well is me, my jolly goshawk, + That ye can speak and flee; + Come shew to me any love tokens + That you have brought to me." 90 + + "She sends you the rings from her fingers, + The garlands from her hair; + She sends you the heart within her breast: + And what would you have mair? + And at the fourth kirk of fair Scotland, 95 + She bids you meet her there." + + "Come hither, all my merry young men, + And drink the good red wine; + For we must on to fair England, + To free my love from pine." 100 + + At the first kirk of fair Scotland, + They gart the bells be rung; + At the second kirk of fair Scotland, + They gart the mass be sung. + + At the third kirk of fair Scotland, 105 + They dealt gold for her sake; + And the fourth kirk of fair Scotland + Her true love met them at. + + "Set down, set down the corpse," he said, + "Till I look on the dead; 110 + The last time that I saw her face, + She ruddy was and red; + But now, alas, and woe is me! + She's wallowed like a weed." + + He rent the sheet upon her face, 115 + A little aboon her chin; + With lily white cheek, and lemin' eyne, + She lookt and laugh'd to him. + + "Give me a chive of your bread, my love, + A bottle of your wine; 120 + For I have fasted for your love, + These weary lang days nine; + There's not a steed in your stable, + But would have been dead ere syne. + + "Gae hame, gae hame, my seven brothers, 125 + Gae hame and blaw the horn; + For you can say in the South of England, + Your sister gave you a scorn. + + "I came not here to fair Scotland, + To lye amang the meal; 130 + But I came here to fair Scotland, + To wear the silks so weel. + + "I came not here to fair Scotland, + To lye amang the dead; + But I came here to fair Scotland, 135 + To wear the gold so red." + + + + +APPENDIX. + + + + +YOUNG HUNTING. See p. 3. + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 118. + + + Lady Maisry forth from her bower came, + And stood on her tower head; + She thought she heard a bridle ring, + The sound did her heart guid. + + She thought it was her first true love, 5 + Whom she loved ance in time; + But it was her new love, Hunting, + Come frae the hunting o' the hyn'. + + "Gude morrow, gude morrow, Lady Maisry, + God make you safe and free! 10 + I'm come to take my last farewell, + And pay my last visit to thee." + + "O stay, O stay then, young Hunting, + O stay with me this night; + Ye shall ha'e cheer, an' charcoal clear, 15 + And candles burning bright." + + "Have no more cheer, you lady fair, + An hour langer for me; + I have a lady in Garmouth town + I love better than thee." 20 + + "O if your love be changed, my love, + Since better canno' be, + Nevertheless, for auld lang syne, + Ye'll stay this night wi' me. + + "Silver, silver shall be your wage, 25 + And gowd shall be your fee; + And nine times nine into the year, + Your weed shall changed be. + + "Will ye gae to the cards or dice, + Or to a tavern fine? 30 + Or will ye gae to a table forebye, + And birl baith beer and wine?" + + "I winna gang to the cards nor dice, + Nor to a tavern fine; + But I will gang to a table forebye, 35 + And birl baith beer and wine." + + Then she has drawn for young Hunting + The beer but and the wine, + Till she got him as deadly drunk + As ony unhallowed swine. 40 + + Then she's ta'en out a trusty brand, + That hang below her gare; + Then she's wounded him, young Hunting, + A deep wound and a sair. + + Then out it speaks her comrade, 45 + Being in the companie: + "Alas! this deed that ye ha'e done, + Will ruin baith you and me." + + "Heal well, heal well, you Lady Katharine, + Heal well this deed on me; 50 + The robes that were shapen for my bodie, + They shall be sewed for thee." + + "Tho' I wou'd heal it never sae well, + And never sae well," said she, + "There is a God above us baith, 55 + That can baith hear and see." + + They booted him and spurred him, + As he'd been gaun to ride; + A hunting-horn about his neck, + A sharp sword by his side. 60 + + And they rode on, and farther on, + All the lang summer's tide, + Until they came to wan water, + Where a' man ca's it Clyde. + + The deepest pot in Clyde's water,[L65] 65 + There they flang him in,[L66] + And put a turf on his breast bane, + To had young Hunting down. + + O out it speaks a little wee bird, + As she sat on the brier: 70 + "Gae hame, gae hame, ye Lady Maisry, + And pay your maiden's hire." + + "O I will pay my maiden's hire, + And hire I'll gi'e to thee; + If ye'll conceal this fatal deed, 75 + Ye's ha'e gowd for your fee." + + Then out it speaks a bonny bird, + That flew aboon their head; + "Keep well, keep well your green claithing + Frae ae drap o' his bluid." 80 + + "O I'll keep well my green claithing + Frae ae drap o' his bluid, + Better than I'll do your flattering tongue, + That flutters in your head. + + "Come down, come down, my bonny bird, 85 + Light down upon my hand; + For ae gowd feather that's in your wing, + I wou'd gi'e a' my land." + + "How shall I come down, how can I come down, + How shall I come down to thee? 90 + The things ye said to young Hunting, + The same ye're saying to me." + + But it fell out on that same day, + The king was going to ride, + And he call'd for him, young Hunting, 95 + For to ride by his side. + + Then out it speaks the little young son, + Sat on the nurse's knee, + "It fears me sair," said that young babe, + "He's in bower wi' yon ladie." 100 + + Then they ha'e call'd her, Lady Katharine, + And she sware by the thorn, + That she saw not him, young Hunting, + Sin' yesterday at morn. + + Then they ha'e call'd her, Lady Maisry, 105 + And she sware by the moon, + That she saw not him, young Hunting, + Sin' yesterday at noon. + + "He was playing him at the Clyde's water, + Perhaps he has fa'en in:" 110 + The king he call'd his divers all, + To dive for his young son. + + They div'd in thro' the wan burn-bank, + Sae did they out thro' the other: + "We'll dive nae mair," said these young men, 115 + "Suppose he were our brother." + + Then out it spake a little bird, + That flew aboon their head: + "Dive on, dive on, ye divers all, + For there he lies indeed. 120 + + "But ye'll leave aff your day diving, + And ye'll dive in the night; + The pot where young Hunting lies in, + The candles they'll burn bright. + + "There are twa ladies in yon bower, 125 + And even in yon ha', + And they ha'e kill'd him, young Hunting, + And casten him awa'. + + "They booted him and spurred him, + As he'd been gaun to ride; 130 + A hunting horn tied round his neck, + A sharp sword by his side. + + "The deepest pot o' Clyde's water, + There they flang him in, + Laid a turf on his breast bane, 135 + To had young Hunting down." + + Now they left aff their day diving, + And they dived on the night; + The pot that young Hunting lay in, + The candles were burning bright. 140 + + The king he call'd his hewers all, + To hew down wood and thorn, + For to put up a strong bale-fire, + These ladies for to burn. + + And they ha'e ta'en her, Lady Katharine, 145 + And they ha'e pitten her in; + But it wadna light upon her cheek, + Nor wou'd it on her chin, + But sang the points o' her yellow hair, + For healing the deadly sin. 150 + + Then they ha'e ta'en her, Lady Maisry, + And they ha'e put her in: + First it lighted on her cheek, + And syne upon her chin, + And sang the points o' her yellow hair, 155 + And she burnt like keckle-pin. + +65, And the. + +66, And there. See 133, 134. + + + + +YOUNG WATERS.--See p. 88. + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. p. 15. + + + It fell about the gude Yule time, + When caps and stoups gaed roun', + Down it came him young Waters, + To welcome James, our king. + + The great, the great, rade a' together, 5 + The sma' came a' behin'; + But wi' young Waters, that brave knight, + There came a gay gatherin'. + + The horse young Waters rade upon, + It cost him hunders nine; 10 + For he was siller shod before, + And gowd graith had behin'. + + At ilka tippit o' his horse mane + There hang a siller bell; + The wind was loud, the steed was proud, 15 + And they gae a sindry knell. + + The king he lay ower's castle wa', + Beheld baith dale and down; + And he beheld him, young Waters, + Come riding to the town. 20 + + He turn'd him right and round about, + And to the queen said he,-- + "Who is the bravest man, my dame, + That ever your een did see?" + + "I've seen lairds, and I've seen lords, 25 + And knights o' high degree; + But a braver man than young Waters + My e'en did never see." + + He turn'd him right and roun' about, + And ane angry man was he; 30 + "O wae to you, my dame, the queen; + Ye might ha'e excepted me!" + + "Ye are nae laird, ye are nae lord, + Ye are the king that wears the crown; + There's nae a lord in fair Scotland, 35 + But unto you maun a' bow down." + + "O lady, for your love choicing, + Ye shall win to your will; + The morn, or I eat or drink, + Young Waters I'll gar kill." 40 + + And nevertheless, the king cou'd say, + "Ye might ha'e excepted me; + Yea for yea," the king cou'd say, + "Young Waters he shall die. + + "Likewise for your ill-wyled words 45 + Ye sall ha'e cause to mourn; + Gin ye hadna been sae big wi' child, + Ye on a hill su'd burn." + + Young Waters came before the King, + Fell low down on his knee; 50 + "Win up, win up, young Waters, + What's this I hear o' thee?" + + "What ails the king at me," he said, + "What ails the king at me?" + "It is tauld me the day, sir knight, 55 + Ye've done me treasonie." + + "Liars will lie on sell gude men, + Sae will they do on me; + I wudna wish to be the man + That liars on wudna lie." 60 + + Nevertheless, the king cou'd say, + "In prison strang gang ye; + O yea for yea," the king cou'd say, + "Young Waters, ye shall die." + + Syne they ha'e ta'en him, young Waters, 65 + Laid him in prison strang, + And left him there wi' fetters boun', + Making a heavy mane. + + "Aft ha'e I ridden thro' Striveling town + Thro' heavy wind and weet; 70 + But ne'er rade I thro' Striveling town + Wi' fetters on my feet. + + "Aft ha'e I ridden thro' Striveling town, + Thro' heavy wind and rain; + But ne'er rade I thro' Striveling town 75 + But thought to ridden't again." + + They brought him to the heading-hill, + His horse, bot and his saddle; + And they brought to the heading-hill + His young son in his cradle. 80 + + And they brought to the heading-hill, + His hounds intill a leish; + And they brought till the heading-hill, + His gos-hawk in a jess. + + King James he then rade up the hill, 85 + And mony a man him wi', + And called on his trusty page, + To come right speedilie. + + "Ye'll do' ye to the Earl o' Mar, + For he sits on yon hill; 90 + Bid him loose the brand frae his bodie, + Young Waters for to kill." + + "O gude forbid," the Earl he said, + "The like su'd e'er fa' me, + My bodie e'er su'd wear the brand 95 + That gars young Waters die." + + Then he has loos'd his trusty brand, + And casten't in the sea; + Says, "Never lat them get a brand, + Till it come back to me." 100 + + The scaffold it prepared was, + And he did mount it hie; + And a' spectators that were there, + The saut tears blint their e'e. + + "O had your tongues, my brethren dear, 105 + And mourn nae mair for me; + Ye're seeking grace frae a graceless face, + For there is nane to gie. + + "Ye'll tak' a bit o' canvas claith, + And pit it ower my ee; 110 + And Jack, my man, ye'll be at hand, + The hour that I su'd die. + + "Syne aff ye'll tak' my bluidy sark, + Gie it fair Margaret Grahame; + For she may curse the dowie dell 115 + That brought King James him hame. + + "Ye'll bid her mak' her bed narrow, + And mak' it naeways wide; + For a brawer man than young Waters + Will ne'er streek by her side. 120 + + "Bid her do weel to my young son, + And gie him nurses three; + For gin he live to be a man, + King James will gar him die." + + He call'd upon the headsman then, 125 + A purse o' gowd him gae; + Says, "Do your office, headsman, boy, + And mak' nae mair delay." + + "O head me soon, O head me clean, + And pit me out o' pine; 130 + For it is by the king's command; + Gang head me till his min'. + + "Tho' by him I'm condemn'd to die, + I'm lieve to his ain kin; + And for the truth, I'll plainly tell, 135 + I am his sister's son." + + "Gin ye're my sister's son," he said, + "It is unkent to me." + "O mindna ye on your sister Bess, + That lives in the French countrie?" 140 + + "Gin Bess then be your mither dear, + As I trust well she be, + Gae hame, gae hame, young Waters, + Ye'se ne'er be slain by me." + + But he lay by his napkin fine, 145 + Was saft as ony silk, + And on the block he laid his neck, + Was whiter than the milk. + + Says, "Strike the blow, ye headsman, boy, + And that right speedilie; 150 + It's never be said here gaes a knight, + Was ance condemn'd to die." + + The head was ta'en frae young Waters, + And mony tears for him shed; + But mair did mourn for fair Margaret, 155 + As raving she lyes mad. + + + + +LAMMIKIN. See p. 94. + +Finlay's _Scottish Ballads_, ii. 47. + + + Lammikin was as gude a mason + As ever hewed a stane; + He biggit Lord Weire's castle, + But payment gat he nane. + + "Sen ye winna gie me my guerdon, lord, 5 + Sen ye winna gie me my hire, + This gude castle, sae stately built, + I sall gar rock wi' fire. + + "Sen ye winna gie me my wages, lord, + Ye sall hae cause to rue:" 10 + And syne he brewed a black revenge, + And syne he vowed a vow. + + The Lammikin sair wroth, sair wroth, + Returned again to Downe; + But or he gaed, he vow'd and vow'd, 15 + The castle should sweep the ground. + + "O byde at hame, my gude Lord Weire, + I weird ye byde at hame; + Gang na to this day's hunting, + To leave me a' alane. 20 + + "Yae night, yae night, I dreamt this bower + O red, red blude was fu'; + Gin ye gang to this black hunting, + I sall hae cause to rue." + + "Wha looks to dreams, my winsome dame? 25 + Nae cause hae ye to fear:" + And syne he kindly kissed her cheek, + And syne the starting tear. + + Now to the gude green-wood he's gane, + She to her painted bower; 30 + But first she closed the windows and doors + Of the castle, ha', and tower. + + They steeked doors, they steeked yetts, + Close to the cheek and chin; + They steeked them a' but a wee wicket, 35 + And Lammikin crap in. + + "Where are the lads o' this castle?" + Says the Lammikin; + "They are a' wi Lord Weire, hunting," + The false nourice did sing. 40 + + "Where are the lasses o' this castle?" + Says the Lammikin; + "They are a' out at the washing," + The false nourice did sing. + + "But where's the lady o' this castle?" 45 + Says the Lammikin; + "She is in her bower sewing," + The false nourice did sing. + + "Is this the bairn o' this house?" + Says the Lammikin; 50 + "The only bairn Lord Weire aughts," + The false nourice did sing. + + Lammikin nipped the bonnie babe, + While loud false nourice sings; + Lammikin nipped the bonnie babe, 55 + Till high the red blude springs. + + "Still my bairn, nourice, + O still him if ye can:" + "He will not still, madam, + For a' his father's lan'." 60 + + "O gentle nourice, still my bairn, + O still him wi' the keys:" + "He will not still, fair lady, + Let me do what I please." + + "O still my bairn, kind nourice, 65 + O still him wi' the ring:" + "He will not still, my lady, + Let me do any thing." + + "O still my bairn, gude nourice, + O still him wi' the knife:" 70 + "He will not still, dear mistress mine, + Gin I'd lay down my life." + + "Sweet nourice, loud, loud cries my bairn, + O still him wi' the bell:" + "He will not still, dear lady, 75 + Till ye cum down yoursell." + + The first step she stepped, + She stepped on a stane, + The next step she stepped, + She met the Lammikin. 80 + + And when she saw the red, red blude, + A loud skriech skrieched she: + "O monster, monster, spare my child, + Who never skaithed thee! + + "O spare, if in your bluidy breast 85 + Abides not heart of stane! + O spare, an' ye sall hae o' gold + That ye can carry hame!" + + "I carena for your gold," he said, + "I carena for your fee: 90 + I hae been wranged by your lord, + Black vengeance ye sall drie. + + "Here are nae serfs to guard your haa's, + Nae trusty spearmen here; + In yon green wood they sound the horn, 95 + And chace the doe and deer. + + "Tho merry sounds the gude green wood + Wi' huntsmen, hounds, and horn, + Your lord sall rue ere sets yon sun + He has done me skaith and scorn." 100 + + "O nourice, wanted ye your meat, + Or wanted ye your fee, + Or wanted ye for any thing, + A fair lady could gie?" + + "I wanted for nae meat, ladie, 105 + I wanted for nae fee; + But I wanted for a hantle + A fair lady could gie." + + Then Lammikin drew his red, red sword, + And sharped it on a stane, 110 + And through and through this fair ladie, + The cauld, cauld steel is gane. + + Nor lang was't after this foul deed, + Till Lord Weire cumin' hame, + Thocht he saw his sweet bairn's bluid 115 + Sprinkled on a stane. + + "I wish a' may be weel," he says, + "Wi' my ladie at hame; + For the rings upon my fingers + Are bursting in twain." 120 + + But mair he look'd, and dule saw he, + On the door at the trance, + Spots o' his dear ladys bluid + Shining like a lance. + + "There's bluid in my nursery, 125 + There's bluid in my ha', + There's bluid in my fair lady's bower, + An' that's warst of a'." + + O sweet, sweet sang the birdie, + Upon the bough sae hie, 130 + But little cared false nourice for that, + For it was her gallows tree. + + Then out he set, and his braw men + Rode a' the country roun'; + Ere lang they faud the Lammikin 135 + Had sheltered near to Downe. + + They carried him a' airts o' wind, + And mickle pain had he, + At last before Lord Weire's gate + They hanged him on the tree. 140 + + + + +LONG LONKIN. See p. 94. + +From Richardson's _Borderer's Table-Book_, viii. 410. + + + The lord said to his ladie, + As he mounted his horse, + "Beware of Long Lonkin + That lies in the moss." + + The lord said to his ladie, 5 + As he rode away, + "Beware of Long Lonkin + That lies in the clay." + + "What care I for Lonkin, + Or any of his gang? 10 + My doors are all shut + And my windows penned in." + + There are six little windows, + And they were all shut, + But one little window, 15 + And that was forgot. + + * * * * * * + * * * * * * + And at that little window + Long Lonkin crept in. + + "Where's the lord of the hall?" + Says the Lonkin; 20 + "He's gone up to London," + Says Orange to him. + + "Where's the men of the hall?" + Says the Lonkin; + "They're at the field ploughing," 25 + Says Orange to him. + + "Where's the maids of the hall?" + Says the Lonkin; + "They're at the well washing," + Says Orange to him. 30 + + "Where's the ladies of the hall?" + Says the Lonkin; + "They're up in their chambers," + Says Orange to him. + + "How shall we get them down?" 35 + Says the Lonkin; + "Prick the babe in the cradle," + Says Orange to him. + + "Rock well my cradle, + And bee-ba my son; 40 + Ye shall have a new gown + When the lord he comes home." + + Still she did prick it, + And bee-ba she cried; + "Come down, dearest mistress, 45 + And still your own child." + + "O still my child, Orange, + Still him with a bell;" + "I can't still him, ladie, + Till you come down yoursell." 50 + + * * * * * * + + "Hold the gold basin, + For your heart's blood to run in," + + * * * * * * + * * * * * * + "To hold the gold basin, + It grieves me full sore; + Oh kill me, dear Lonkin, 55 + And let my mother go." + + * * * * * * + + + + +THE LAIRD OF WARISTOUN. See p. 107. + + +"John Kincaid, Laird of Waristoun, (an estate situated between the city +of Edinburgh and the sea, towards Leith,) was murdered, on the 2d of +July, 1600, by a man named Robert Weir, who was employed to do so by his +wife, Jean Livingstone, daughter of the Laird of Dunipace. The +unfortunate woman, who thus became implicated in a crime so revolting to +humanity, was only twenty-one years of age at the time. It is probable +from some circumstances, that her husband was considerably older than +herself, and also that their marriage was any thing but one of love. It +is only alleged, however, that she was instigated to seek his death by +resentment for some bad treatment on his part, and, in particular, for a +bite which he had inflicted on her arm. There was something +extraordinary in the deliberation with which this wretched woman +approached the awful gulf of crime. Having resolved on the means to be +employed in the murder, she sent for a quondam servant of her father, +Robert Weir, who lived in the neighbouring city. He came to the place of +Waristoun, to see her; but, for some unexplained reason was not +admitted. She again sent for him, and he again went. Again he was not +admitted. At length, on his being called a third time, he was +introduced to her presence. Before this time she had found an accomplice +in the nurse of her child. It was then arranged, that Weir should be +concealed in a cellar till the dead of night, when he should come forth +and proceed to destroy the laird as he lay in his chamber. The bloody +tragedy was acted precisely in accordance with this plan. Weir was +brought up, at midnight, from the cellar to the hall by the lady +herself, and afterwards went forward alone to the laird's bedroom. As he +proceeded to his bloody work, she retired to her bed, to wait the +intelligence of her husband's murder. When Weir entered the chamber, +Waristoun awoke with the noise, and leant inquiringly over the side of +the bed. The murderer then leapt upon him; the unhappy man uttered a +great cry; Weir gave him several dreadful blows on vital parts, +particularly one on the flank vein. But as the laird was still able to +cry out, he at length saw fit to take more effective measures: he seized +him by the throat with both hands, and compressing that part with all +his force, succeeded, after a few minutes, in depriving him of life. +When the lady heard her husband's first death-shout, she leapt out of +bed, in an agony of mingled horror and repentance, and descended to the +hall: but she made no effort to countermand her mission of destruction. +She waited patiently till Weir came down to inform her that all was +over. + +"Weir made an immediate escape from justice; but Lady Waristoun and the +nurse were apprehended before the deed was half a day old. Being caught, +as the Scottish law terms it, _red-hand_,--that is, while still bearing +unequivocal marks of guilt, they were immediately tried by the +magistrates of Edinburgh, and sentenced to be strangled and burnt at a +stake. The lady's father, the Laird of Dunipace, was a favourite of King +James VI., and he made all the interest he could with his majesty to +procure a pardon; but all that could be obtained from the king, was an +order that the unhappy lady should be executed by decapitation, and that +at such an early hour in the morning as to make the affair as little of +a spectacle as possible. + +"The space intervening between her sentence and her execution was only +thirty-seven hours; yet, in that little time, Lady Waristoun contrived +to become converted from a blood-stained and unrelenting murderess into +a perfect saint on earth. One of the then ministers of Edinburgh has +left an account of her conversion, which was lately published, and would +be extremely amusing, were it not for the disgust which seizes the mind +on beholding such an instance of perverted religion. She went to the +scaffold with a demeanour which would have graced a martyr. Her lips +were incessant in the utterance of pious exclamations. She professed +herself confident of everlasting happiness. She even grudged every +moment which she spent in this world, as so much taken from that sum of +eternal felicity which she was to enjoy in the next. The people who came +to witness the last scene, instead of having their minds inspired with +salutary horror for her crime, were engrossed in admiration of her +saintly behaviour, and greedily gathered up every devout word which fell +from her tongue. It would almost appear from the narrative of the +clergyman, that her fate was rather a matter of envy than of any other +feeling. Her execution took place at four in the morning of the 5th of +July, at the Watergate, near Holyroodhouse; and at the same hour her +nurse was burnt on the castle-hill. It is some gratification to know, +that the actual murderer, Weir, was eventually seized and executed, +though not till four years after." + + CHAMBERS'S _Scottish Ballads_, p. 129. + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 56. + + My mother was an ill woman, + In fifteen years she married me; + I hadna wit to guide a man, + Alas! ill counsel guided me. + + O Warriston, O Warriston, 5 + I wish that ye may sink for sin; + I was but bare fifteen years auld, + Whan first I enter'd your yates within. + + I hadna been a month married, + Till my gude lord went to the sea; 10 + I bare a bairn ere he came hame, + And set it on the nourice knee. + + But it fell ance upon a day, + That my gude lord return'd from sea; + Then I did dress in the best array, 15 + As blythe as ony bird on tree. + + I took my young son in my arms, + Likewise my nourice me forebye, + And I went down to yon shore side, + My gude lord's vessel I might spy. 20 + + My lord he stood upon the deck, + I wyte he hail'd me courteouslie; + "Ye are thrice welcome, my lady gay, + Whase aught that bairn on your knee?" + + She turn'd her right and round about, 25 + Says, "Why take ye sic dreads o' me? + Alas! I was too young married, + To love another man but thee." + + "Now hold your tongue, my lady gay, + Nae mair falsehoods ye'll tell to me; 30 + This bonny bairn is not mine, + You've loved another while I was on sea." + + In discontent then hame she went, + And aye the tear did blin' her e'e; + Says, "Of this wretch I'll be revenged, 35 + For these harsh words he's said to me." + + She's counsell'd wi' her father's steward, + What way she cou'd revenged be; + Bad was the counsel then he gave,-- + It was to gar her gude lord dee. 40 + + The nourice took the deed in hand, + I wat she was well paid her fee; + She kiest the knot, and the loop she ran, + Which soon did gar this young lord dee. + + His brother lay in a room hard by, 45 + Alas! that night he slept too soun'; + But then he waken'd wi a cry, + "I fear my brother's putten down. + + "O get me coal and candle light, + And get me some gude companie;" 50 + But before the light was brought, + Warriston he was gart dee. + + They've ta'en the lady and fause nourice, + In prison strong they ha'e them boun'; + The nourice she was hard o' heart, 55 + But the bonny lady fell in swoon. + + In it came her brother dear, + And aye a sorry man was he; + "I wou'd gie a' the lands I heir, + O bonny Jean, to borrow thee." 60 + + "O borrow me brother, borrow me,-- + O borrow'd shall I never be; + For I gart kill my ain gude lord, + And life is nae pleasure to me." + + In it came her mother dear, 65 + I wyte a sorry woman was she; + "I wou'd gie my white monie and gowd, + O bonny Jean, to borrow thee." + + "Borrow me mother, borrow me,-- + O borrow'd shall I never be; 70 + For I gart kill my ain gude lord, + And life's now nae pleasure to me." + + Then in it came her father dear, + I wyte a sorry man was he; + Says, "Ohon, alas! my bonny Jean, 75 + If I had you at hame wi' me. + + "Seven daughters I ha'e left at hame, + As fair women as fair can be; + But I wou'd gi'e them ane by ane, + O bonny Jean, to borrow thee." 80 + + "O borrow me father, borrow me,-- + O borrow'd shall I never be; + I that is worthy o' the death, + It is but right that I shou'd dee." + + Then out it speaks the king himsell, 85 + And aye as he steps in the fleer; + Says, "I grant you your life, lady, + Because you are of tender year." + + "A boon, a boon, my liege the king, + The boon I ask, ye'll grant to me:" 90 + "Ask on, ask on, my bonny Jean, + Whate'er ye ask it's granted be." + + "Cause take me out at night, at night, + Lat not the sun upon me shine; + And take me to yon heading hill, 95 + Strike aff this dowie head o' mine. + + "Ye'll take me out at night, at night, + When there are nane to gaze and see; + And ha'e me to yon heading hill, + And ye'll gar head me speedilie." 100 + + They've ta'en her out at nine at night, + Loot not the sun upon her shine; + And had her to yon heading hill, + And headed her baith neat and fine. + + Then out it speaks the king himsell, 105 + I wyte a sorry man was he; + "I've travell'd east, I've travell'd west, + And sailed far beyond the sea, + But I never saw a woman's face + I was sae sorry to see dee. 110 + + "But Warriston was sair to blame, + For slighting o' his lady so; + He had the wyte o' his ain death, + And bonny lady's overthrow." + + + + +MARY HAMILTON. See p. 113. + +A "North Country" version from Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. +252. The Editor furnishes the two following stanzas of another copy:-- + + + My father is the Duke of Argyle, + My mother's a lady gay, + And I mysel am a daintie dame, + And the king desired me. + + He shaw'd me up, he shaw'd me doun, + He shaw'd me to the ha', + He shaw'd me to the low cellars, + And that was warst of a'. + +In one of Motherwell's copies, and in Buchan's, the heroine calls +herself daughter of the Duke of York. + + "Whan I was a babe, and a very little babe, + And stood at my mither's knee, + Nae witch nor warlock did unfauld + The death I was to dree. + + "But my mither was a proud woman, 5 + A proud woman and a bauld; + And she hired me to Queen Mary's bouer + When scarce eleven years auld. + + "O happy, happy, is the maid, + That's born of beauty free! 10 + It was my dimpling rosy cheeks + That's been the dule o' me; + And wae be to that weirdless wicht, + And a' his witcherie." + + Word's gane up and word's gane doun, 15 + And word's gane to the ha', + That Mary Hamilton was wi' bairn, + And na body ken'd to wha. + + But in and cam the Queen hersel, + Wi' gowd plait on her hair;-- 20 + Says, "Mary Hamilton, whare is the babe + That I heard greet sae sair?" + + "There is na babe within my bouer, + And I hope there ne'er will be; + But it's me wi' a sair and sick colic, 25 + And I'm just like to dee." + + But they looked up, they looked down, + Atween the bowsters and the wa', + It's there they got a bonnie lad-bairn, + But it's life it was awa'. 30 + + "Rise up, rise up, Mary Hamilton, + Rise up, and dress ye fine, + For you maun gang to Edinbruch, + And stand afore the nine.[L34] + + "Ye'll no put on the dowie black, 35 + Nor yet the dowie brown; + But ye'll put on the robes o' red, + To sheen thro' Edinbruch town." + + "I'll no put on the dowie black, + Nor yet the dowie brown; 40 + But I'll put on the robes o' red, + To sheen thro' Edinbruch town." + + As they gaed thro' Edinbruch town, + And down by the Nether-bow, + There war monie a lady fair 45 + Siching and crying, "Och how!" + + "O weep na mair for me, ladies, + Weep na mair for me; + Yestreen I killed my ain bairn, + The day I deserve to dee. 50 + + "What need ye hech! and how! ladies, + What need ye how! for me; + Ye never saw grace at a graceless face,-- + Queen Mary has nane to gie." + + "Gae forward, gae forward," the Queen she said, + "Gae forward, that ye may see; 55 + For the very same words that ye hae said, + Sall hang ye on the gallows tree." + + As she gaed up the Tolbooth stairs, + She gied loud lauchters three; 60 + But or ever she cam down again, + She was condemn'd to dee. + + "O tak example frae me, Maries, + O tak example frae me, + Nor gie your luve to courtly lords, 65 + Nor heed their witchin' ee. + + "But wae be to the Queen hersel, + She micht hae pardon'd me; + But sair she's striven for me to hang + Upon the gallows tree. 70 + + "Yestreen the Queen had four Maries, + The nicht she'll hae but three; + There was Mary Beatoun, Mary Seaton, + And Mary Carmichael, and me. + + "Aft hae I set pearls in her hair, 75 + Aft hae I lac'd her gown, + And this is the reward I now get, + To be hang'd in Edinbruch town! + + "O a' ye mariners, far and near, + That sail ayont the faem, 80 + O dinna let my father and mither ken, + But what I am coming hame. + + "O a' ye mariners, far and near, + That sail ayont the sea, + Let na my father and mither ken, 85 + The death I am to dee. + + "Sae, weep na mair for me, ladies, + Weep na mair for me, + The mither that kills her ain bairn, + Deserves weel for to dee." 90 + + * * * * * * * * + +34. Anciently the supreme criminal court of Scotland was composed of +nine members, viz. the Justiciar, or Justice General, and his eight +Deputes. KINLOCH. + + + + +MARY HAMILTON. See p 113. + +Maidment's _North Countrie Garland_, p. 19. + + + Then down cam Queen Marie + Wi' gold links in her hair, + Saying, "Marie mild, where is the child, + That I heard greet sair sair?" + + "There was nae child wi' me, madam, 5 + There was nae child wi' me; + It was but me in a sair cholic, + When I was like to die." + + "I'm not deceived," Queen Marie said, + "No, no, indeed, not I! 10 + So Marie mild, where is the child? + For sure I heard it cry." + + She turned down the blankets fine, + Likewise the Holland sheet, + And underneath, there strangled lay 15 + A lovely baby sweet. + + "O cruel mother," said the Queen, + "Some fiend possessed thee; + But I will hang thee for this deed, + My Marie tho' thou be!" 20 + + * * * * * * + + When she cam to the Nether-Bow Port, + She laugh't loud laughters three; + But when she cam to the gallows foot, + The saut tear blinded her ee. + + "Yestreen the Queen had four Maries, 25 + The night she'll hae but three; + There was Marie Seton, and Marie Beaton, + And Marie Carmichael and me. + + "Ye mariners, ye mariners, + That sail upon the sea, 30 + Let not my father or mother wit + The death that I maun die. + + "I was my parents' only hope, + They ne'er had ane but me; + They little thought when I left hame, 35 + They should nae mair me see!" + + + + +SIR HUGH, OR THE JEW'S DAUGHTER. + +See p. 136. + +From Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 51; taken down from recitation. + + + Yesterday was brave Hallowday, + And, above all days of the year, + The schoolboys all got leave to play, + And little Sir Hugh was there. + + He kicked the ball with his foot, 5 + And kepped it with his knee, + And even in at the Jew's window + He gart the bonnie ba' flee. + + Out then came the Jew's daughter,-- + "Will ye come in and dine?" 10 + "I winna come in and I canna come in + Till I get that ball of mine. + + "Throw down that ball to me, maiden, + Throw down the ball to me." + "I winna throw down your ball, Sir Hugh, 15 + Till ye come up to me." + + She pu'd the apple frae the tree, + It was baith red and green, + She gave it unto little Sir Hugh, + With that his heart did win. 20 + + She wiled him into ae chamber, + She wiled him into twa, + She wiled him into the third chamber, + And that was warst o't a'. + + She took out a little penknife, 25 + Hung low down by her spare, + She twined this young thing o' his life, + And a word he ne'er spak mair. + + And first came out the thick, thick blood, + And syne came out the thin, 30 + And syne came out the bonnie heart's blood,-- + There was nae mair within. + + She laid him on a dressing table, + She dress'd him like a swine, + Says, "Lie ye there, my bonnie Sir Hugh, 35 + Wi' ye're apples red and green!" + + She put him in a case of lead, + Says, "Lie ye there and sleep!" + She threw him into the deep draw-well + Was fifty fathom deep. 40 + + A schoolboy walking in the garden + Did grievously hear him moan, + He ran away to the deep draw-well + And fell down on his knee. + + Says, "Bonnie Sir Hugh, and pretty Sir Hugh, 45 + I pray you speak to me; + If you speak to any body in this world, + I pray you speak to me." + + When bells were rung and mass was sung, + And every body went hame, 50 + Then every lady had her son, + But Lady Helen had nane. + + She rolled her mantle her about, + And sore, sore did she weep; + She ran away to the Jew's castle, 55 + When all were fast asleep. + + She cries, "Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh, + I pray you speak to me; + If you speak to any body in this world, + I pray you speak to me." 60 + + "Lady Helen, if ye want your son, + I'll tell ye where to seek; + Lady Helen, if ye want your son, + He's in the well sae deep." + + She ran away to the deep draw-well, 65 + And she fell down on her knee; + Saying, "Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh, + I pray ye speak to me; + If ye speak to any body in the world, + I pray ye speak to me." 70 + + "Oh! the lead it is wondrous heavy, mother, + The well it is wondrous deep; + The little penknife sticks in my throat, + And I downa to ye speak. + + But lift me out o' this deep draw-well, 75 + And bury me in yon churchyard; + "Put a Bible at my head," he says, + "And a testament at my feet, + And pen and ink at every side, + And I'll lie still and sleep. 80 + + "And go to the back of Maitland town, + Bring me my winding sheet; + For it's at the back of Maitland town + That you and I shall meet." + + O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom, 85 + The broom that makes full sore, + A woman's mercy is very little, + But a man's mercy is more. + + + + +SIR HUGH. See p. 136. + +From Hume's _Sir Hugh of Lincoln_, p. 35; obtained from recitation, in +Ireland. + + + 'Twas on a summer's morning, + Some scholars were playing at ball; + When out came the Jew's daughter + And lean'd her back against the wall. + + She said unto the fairest boy, 5 + "Come here to me, Sir Hugh." + "No! I will not," said he, + "Without my playfellows too." + + She took an apple out of her pocket, + And trundled it along the plain; 10 + And who was readiest to lift it, + Was little Sir Hugh, again. + + She took him by the milk-white han', + An' led him through many a hall, + Until they came to one stone chamber, 15 + Where no man might hear his call. + + She sat him in a goolden chair, + And jagg'd him with a pin; + And called for a goolden cup + To houl' his heart's blood in. 20 + + She tuk him by the yellow hair, + An' also by the feet; + An' she threw him in the deep draw well, + It was fifty fadom deep. + + Day bein' over, the night came on, 25 + And the scholars all went home; + Then every mother had her son, + But little Sir Hugh's had none. + + She put her mantle about her head, + Tuk a little rod in her han', 30 + An' she says, "Sir Hugh, if I fin' you here, + I will bate you for stayin' so long." + + First she went to the Jew's door, + But they were fast asleep; + An' then she went to the deep draw-well, 35 + That was fifty fadom deep. + + She says, "Sir Hugh, if you be here, + As I suppose you be, + If ever the dead or quick arose, + Arise and spake to me." 40 + + Yes, mother dear, I am here, + I know I have staid very long; + But a little penknife was stuck in my heart, + Till the stream ran down full strong. + + And mother dear, when you go home, 45 + Tell my playfellows all, + That I lost my life by leaving them + When playing that game of ball. + + And ere another day is gone, + My winding-sheet prepare, 50 + And bury me in the green churchyard + Where the flowers are bloomin' fair. + + Lay my Bible at my head, + My testament at my feet; + The earth and worms shall be my bed, 55 + Till Christ and I shall meet. + + + + +SIR PATRICK SPENS. See p. 147. + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 1. + + + The King sits in Dunfermline town, + A-drinking at the wine; + Says, "Where will I get a good skipper + Will sail the saut seas fine?" + + Out it speaks an eldren knight 5 + Amang the companie,-- + "Young Patrick Spens is the best skipper + That ever sail'd the sea." + + The king he wrote a braid letter, + And seal'd it wi' his ring; 10 + Says, "Ye'll gi'e that to Patrick Spens: + See if ye can him find." + + He sent this, not wi' an auld man, + Nor yet a simple boy, + But the best o' nobles in his train 15 + This letter did convoy. + + When Patrick look'd the letter upon + A light laugh then ga'e he; + But ere he read it till an end, + The tear blinded his e'e. 20 + + "Ye'll eat and drink, my merry men a', + An' see ye be weell thorn; + For blaw it weet, or blaw it wind, + My guid ship sails the morn." + + Then out it speaks a guid auld man, 25 + A guid death mat he dee,-- + "Whatever ye do, my guid master, + Tak' God your guide to bee. + + "For late yestreen I saw the new moon, + The auld moon in her arm." 30 + "Ohon, alas!" says Patrick Spens, + "That bodes a deadly storm. + + "But I maun sail the seas the morn, + And likewise sae maun you; + To Noroway, wi' our king's daughter,-- 35 + A chosen queen she's now. + + "But I wonder who has been sae base, + As tauld the king o' mee: + Even tho' hee ware my ae brither, + An ill death mat he dee." 40 + + Now Patrick he rigg'd out his ship, + And sailed ower the faem; + But mony a dreary thought had hee, + While hee was on the main. + + They hadna sail'd upon the sea 45 + A day but barely three, + Till they came in sight o' Noroway, + It's there where they must bee. + + They hadna stayed into that place + A month but and a day, 50 + Till he caus'd the flip in mugs gae roun', + And wine in cans sae gay. + + The pipe and harp sae sweetly play'd, + The trumpets loudly soun'; + In every hall where in they stay'd, 55 + Wi' their mirth did reboun'. + + Then out it speaks an auld skipper, + An inbearing dog was hee,-- + "Ye've stay'd ower lang in Noroway, + Spending your king's monie." 60 + + Then out it speaks Sir Patrick Spens,-- + "O how can a' this bee? + I ha'e a bow o' guid red gowd + Into my ship wi' mee. + + "But betide me well, betide me wae, 65 + This day I'se leave the shore; + And never spend my king's monie + 'Mong Noroway dogs no more." + + Young Patrick hee is on the sea, + And even on the faem, 70 + Wi' five-an-fifty Scots lords' sons, + That lang'd to bee at hame. + + They hadna sail'd upon the sea + A day but barely three, + Till loud and boistrous grew the wind, 75 + And stormy grew the sea. + + "O where will I get a little wee boy + Will tak' my helm in hand, + Till I gae up to my tapmast, + And see for some dry land?" 80 + + He hadna gane to his tapmast + A step but barely three; + Ere thro' and thro' the bonny ship's side, + He saw the green haw sea. + + "There are five-an-fifty feather beds 85 + Well packed in ae room; + And ye'll get as muckle guid canvas + As wrap the ship a' roun'; + + "Ye'll pict her well, and spare her not, + And mak' her hale and soun'." 90 + But ere he had the word well spoke + The bonny ship was down. + + O laith, laith were our guid lords' sons + To weet their milk-white hands; + But lang ere a' the play was ower 95 + They wat their gowden bands. + + O laith, laith were our Scots lords' sons + To weet their coal-black shoon; + But lang ere a' the play was ower + They wat their hats aboon. 100 + + It's even ower by Aberdour + It's fifty fathoms deep, + And yonder lies Sir Patrick Spens, + And a's men at his feet. + + It's even ower by Aberdour, 105 + There's mony a craig and fin, + And yonder lies Sir Patrick Spens, + Wi' mony a guid lord's son. + + Lang, lang will the ladyes look + Into their morning weed, 110 + Before they see young Patrick Spens + Come sailing ower the fleed. + + Lang, lang will the ladyes look + Wi' their fans in their hand, + Before they see him, Patrick Spens, 115 + Come sailing to dry land. + + + + +LORD LIVINGSTON. + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 39. + + + It fell about the Lammas time, + When wightsmen won their hay; + A' the squires in merry Linkum, + Went a' forth till a play. + + They play'd until the evening tide, 5 + The sun was gaeing down; + A lady thro' plain fields was bound, + A lily leesome thing. + + Two squires that for this lady pledged, + In hopes for a renown; 10 + The one was call'd the proud Seaton, + The other Livingston. + + "When will ye, Michaell o' Livingston, + Wad for this lady gay?" + "To-morrow, to-morrow," said Livingston, 15 + "To-morrow, if you may." + + Then they hae wadded their wagers, + And laid their pledges down; + To the high castle o' Edinbro' + They made them ready boun'. 20 + + The chamber that they did gang in, + There it was daily dight; + The kipples were like the gude red gowd, + As they stood up in hight; + And the roof-tree like the siller white, 25 + And shin'd like candles bright. + + The lady fair into that ha' + Was comely to be seen; + Her kirtle was made o' the pa', + Her gowns seem'd o' the green. 30 + + Her gowns seem'd like green, like green, + Her kirtle o' the pa'; + A siller wand intill her hand, + She marshall'd ower them a'. + + She gae every knight a lady bright, 35 + And every squire a may; + Her own sell chose him, Livingston, + They were a comely tway. + + Then Seaton started till his foot, + The fierce flame in his e'e: 40 + "On the next day, wi' sword in hand, + On plain fields, meet ye me." + + When bells were rung, and mass was sung, + And a' man bound for bed; + Lord Livingston and his fair dame 45 + In bed were sweetly laid. + + The bed, the bed, where they lay in, + Was cover'd wi' the pa'; + A covering o' the gude red gowd, + Lay nightly ower the twa. 50 + + So they lay there, till on the morn + The sun shone on their feet; + Then up it raise him, Livingston, + To draw to him a weed. + + The first an' weed that he drew on, 55 + Was o' the linen clear; + The next an' weed that he drew on, + It was a weed o' weir. + + The niest an' weed that he drew on, + Was gude iron and steel; 60 + Twa gloves o' plate, a gowden helmet, + Became that hind chiel weel. + + Then out it speaks that lady gay, + A little forbye stood she; + "I'll dress mysell in men's array, 65 + Gae to the fields for thee." + + "O God forbid," said Livingston, + "That e'er I dree the shame; + My lady slain in plain fields, + And I coward knight at hame!" 70 + + He scarcely travelled frae the town + A mile but barely twa, + Till he met wi' a witch woman, + I pray to send her wae. + + "This is too gude a day, my lord, 75 + To gang sae far frae town; + This is too gude a day, my lord, + On field to make you boun'. + + "I dream'd a dream concerning thee, + O read ill dreams to guid! 80 + Your bower was full o' milk-white swans, + Your bride's bed full o' bluid." + + "O bluid is gude," said Livingston, + "To bide it whoso may; + If I be frae yon plain fields, 85 + Nane knew the plight I lay." + + Then he rade on to plain fields, + As swift's his horse cou'd hie; + And there he met the proud Seaton, + Come boldly ower the lee. 90 + + "Come on to me now, Livingston, + Or then take foot and flee; + This is the day that we must try + Who gains the victorie." + + Then they fought with sword in hand, 95 + Till they were bluidy men; + But on the point o' Seaton's sword + Brave Livingston was slain. + + His lady lay ower castle wa', + Beholding dale and down, 100 + When Blenchant brave, his gallant steed, + Came prancing to the town. + + "O where is now my ain gude lord, + He stays sae far frae me?" + "O dinna ye see your ain gude lord, 105 + Stand bleeding by your knee?" + + "O live, O live, Lord Livingston, + The space o' ae half hour; + There's nae a leech in Edinbro' town + But I'll bring to your door." 110 + + "Awa' wi' your leeches, lady," he said, + "Of them I'll be the waur; + There's nae a leech in Edinbro' town, + That can strong death debar. + + "Ye'll take the lands o' Livingston, 115 + And deal them liberallie; + To the auld that may not, the young that cannot, + And blind that does na see; + And help young maidens' marriages, + That has nae gear to gie." 120 + + "My mother got it in a book, + The first night I was born, + I wou'd be wedded till a knight, + And him slain on the morn. + + "But I will do for my love's sake 125 + What ladies woudna thole; + Ere seven years shall hae an end, + Nae shoe's gang on my sole. + + "There's never lint gang on my head, + Nor kame gang in my hair, 130 + Nor ever coal nor candle light, + Shine in my bower mair." + + When seven years were near an end, + The lady she thought lang; + And wi' a crack her heart did brake, 135 + And sae this ends my sang. + + + + +CLERK TAMAS. + +Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 43. + + + Clerk Tamas lov'd her, fair Annie, + As well as Mary lov'd her son; + But now he hates her, fair Annie, + And hates the lands that she lives in. + + "Ohon, alas!" said fair Annie, 5 + "Alas! this day I fear I'll die; + But I will on to sweet Tamas, + And see gin he will pity me." + + As Tamas lay ower his shott-window, + Just as the sun was gaen down, 10 + There he beheld her, fair Annie, + As she came walking to the town. + + "O where are a' my well-wight men, + I wat that I pay meat and fee, + For to lat a' my hounds gang loose, 15 + To hunt this vile whore to the sea!" + + The hounds they knew the lady well, + And nane o' them they wou'd her bite; + Save ane that is ca'd Gaudy-where, + I wat he did the lady smite. 20 + + "O wae mat worth ye, Gaudy-where, + An ill reward this is to me; + For ae bit that I gae the lave, + I'm very sure I've gi'en you three. + + "For me, alas! there's nae remeid, 25 + Here comes the day that I maun die; + I ken ye lov'd your master well, + And sae, alas for me, did I!" + + A captain lay ower his ship window, + Just as the sun was gaen down; 30 + There he beheld her, fair Annie, + As she was hunted frae the town. + + "Gin ye'll forsake father and mither, + And sae will ye your friends and kin, + Gin ye'll forsake your lands sae broad, 35 + Then come and I will take you in." + + "Yes, I'll forsake baith father and mither, + And sae will I my friends and kin, + Yes, I'll forsake my lands sae broad, + And come, gin ye will take me in." 40 + + Then a' thing gaed frae fause Tamas, + And there was naething byde him wi'; + Then he thought lang for Arrandella, + It was fair Annie for to see. + + "How do ye now, ye sweet Tamas? 45 + And how gaes a' in your countrie?" + "I'll do better to you than ever I've done, + Fair Annie, gin ye'll come an' see." + + "O Guid forbid," said fair Annie, + "That e'er the like fa' in my hand; 50 + Wou'd I forsake my ain gude lord, + And follow you, a gae-through-land? + + "Yet nevertheless now, sweet Tamas, + Ye'll drink a cup o' wine wi' me; + And nine times in the live lang day, 55 + Your fair claithing shall changed be." + + Fair Annie pat it till her cheek, + Sae did she till her milk-white chin, + Sae did she till her flattering lips, + But never a drap o' wine gaed in. 60 + + Tamas pat it till his cheek, + Sae did he till his dimpled chin; + He pat it till his rosy lips, + And then the well o' wine gaed in. + + "These pains," said he, "are ill to bide; 65 + Here is the day that I maun die; + O take this cup frae me, Annie, + For o' the same I am weary." + + "And sae was I, o' you, Tamas, + When I was hunted to the sea; 70 + But I'se gar bury you in state, + Which is mair than ye'd done to me." + + + + +JOHN THOMSON AND THE TURK. + +From Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, Appendix, p. ix. The same in Buchan's +collection, ii. 159. + + + John Thomson fought against the Turks + Three years, intill a far countrie; + And all that time, and something mair, + Was absent from his gay ladie. + + But it fell ance upon a time, 5 + As this young chieftain sat alane, + He spied his lady in rich array, + As she walk'd ower a rural plain. + + "What brought ye here, my lady gay, + So far awa from your ain countrie? 10 + I've thought lang, and very lang, + And all for your fair face to see." + + For some days she did with him stay, + Till it fell ance upon a day, + "Fareweel, for a time," she said, 15 + "For now I must boun hame away." + + He's gi'en to her a jewel fine, + Was set with pearl and precious stane; + Says, "My love, beware of these savages bold + That's in your way as ye gang hame. 20 + + "Ye'll tak the road, my lady fair, + That leads you fair across the lea: + That keeps you from wild Hind Soldan, + And likewise from base Violentrie." + + Wi' heavy heart thir twa did pairt, 25 + She mintet as she wuld gae hame; + Hind Soldan by the Greeks was slain, + But to base Violentrie she's gane. + + When a twelvemonth had expired, + John Thomson he thought wondrous lang, 30 + And he has written a braid letter, + And sealed it weel wi' his ain hand. + + He sent it with a small vessel + That there was quickly gaun to sea; + And sent it on to fair Scotland, 35 + To see about his gay ladie. + + But the answer he received again,-- + The lines did grieve his heart right sair: + Nane of her friends there had her seen, + For a twelvemonth and something mair. 40 + + Then he put on a palmer's weed, + And took a pike-staff in his hand; + To Violentrie's castell he hied; + But slowly, slowly he did gang. + + When within the hall he came, 45 + He jooked and couch'd out ower his tree: + "If ye be lady of this hall, + Some of your good bountith gie me." + + "What news, what news, palmer," she said, + "And from what countrie cam ye?" 50 + "I'm lately come from Grecian plains, + Where lies some of the Scots armie." + + "If ye be come from Grecian plains, + Some mair news I will ask of thee,-- + Of one of the chieftains that lies there, 55 + If he has lately seen his gay ladie." + + "It is twa months, and something mair, + Since we did pairt on yonder plain; + And now this knight has began to fear + One of his foes he has her ta'en." 60 + + "He has not ta'en me by force nor slight; + It was a' by my ain free will; + He may tarry into the fight, + For here I mean to tarry still. + + "And if John Thomson ye do see, 65 + Tell him I wish him silent sleep; + His head was not so coziely, + Nor yet sae weel, as lies at my feet." + + With that he threw aff his strange disguise, + Laid by the mask that he had on; 70 + Said, "Hide me now, my lady fair, + For Violentrie will soon be hame." + + "For the love I bore thee ance, + I'll strive to hide you, if I can:" + Then she put him down in a dark cellar 75 + Where there lay many a new slain man. + + But he hadna in the cellar been, + Not an hour but barely three, + Then hideous was the noise he heard, + When in at the gate cam Violentrie. 80 + + Says, "I wish you well, my lady fair, + It's time for us to sit to dine; + Come, serve me with the good white bread, + And likewise with the claret wine. + + "That Scots chieftain, our mortal fae, 85 + Sae aft frae the field has made us flee, + Ten thousand zechins this day I'll give + That I his face could only see." + + "Of that same gift wuld ye give me, + If I wuld bring him unto thee? 90 + I fairly hold you at your word;-- + Come ben, John Thomson, to my lord." + + Then from the vault John Thomson came, + Wringing his hands most piteouslie: + "What would ye do," the Turk he cried, 95 + "If ye had me as I hae thee?" + + "If I had you as ye have me, + I'll tell ye what I'd do to thee; + I'd hang you up in good greenwood, + And cause your ain hand wale the tree. 100 + + "I meant to stick you with my knife + For kissing my beloved ladie:" + "But that same weed ye've shaped for me, + It quickly shall be sewed for thee." + + Then to the wood they baith are gane; 105 + John Thomson clamb frae tree to tree; + And aye he sighed and said, "Och hone! + Here comes the day that I must die." + + He tied a ribbon on every branch, + Put up a flag his men might see; 110 + But little did his false faes ken + He meant them any injurie. + + He set his horn unto his mouth, + And he has blawn baith loud and schill: + And then three thousand armed men 115 + Cam tripping all out ower the hill. + + "Deliver us our chief," they all did cry; + "It's by our hand that ye must die;" + "Here is your chief," the Turk replied, + With that fell on his bended knee. 120 + + "O mercy, mercy, good fellows all, + Mercy I pray you'll grant to me;" + "Such mercy as ye meant to give, + Such mercy we shall give to thee." + + This Turk they in his castel burnt, 125 + That stood upon yon hill so hie; + John Thomson's gay ladie they took + And hanged her on yon greenwood tree. + + + + +LORD THOMAS STUART. + +From Maidment's _North Countrie Garland_, p. 1. + + + Thomas Stuart was a lord, + A lord of mickle land; + He used to wear a coat of gold, + But now his grave is green. + + Now he has wooed the young countess, 5 + The Countess of Balquhin, + An' given her for a morning gift, + Strathboggie and Aboyne. + + But women's wit is aye willful, + Alas! that ever it was sae; 10 + She longed to see the morning gift + That her gude lord to her gae. + + When steeds were saddled an' weel bridled, + An' ready for to ride, + There came a pain on that gude lord, 15 + His back, likewise his side. + + He said, "Ride on, my lady fair, + May goodness be your guide; + For I'm sae sick an' weary that + No farther can I ride." 20 + + Now ben did come his father dear, + Wearing a golden band; + Says, "Is there nae leech in Edinburgh, + Can cure my son from wrang?" + + "O leech is come, an' leech is gane, 25 + Yet, father, I'm aye waur; + There's not a leech in Edinbro' + Can death from me debar. + + "But be a friend to my wife, father, + Restore to her her own; 30 + Restore to her my morning gift, + Strathboggie and Aboyne. + + "It had been gude for my wife, father, + To me she'd born a son; + He would have got my land an' rents, 35 + Where they lie out an' in. + + "It had been gude for my wife, father, + To me she'd born an heir; + He would have got my land an' rents, + Where they lie fine an' fair." 40 + + The steeds they strave into their stables, + The boys could'nt get them bound; + The hounds lay howling on the leech, + 'Cause their master was behind. + + "I dreamed a dream since late yestreen, 45 + I wish it may be good, + That our chamber was full of swine, + An' our bed full of blood. + + "I saw a woman come from the West, + Full sore wringing her hands, 50 + And aye she cried, 'Ohon alas! + My good lord's broken bands.' + + "As she came by my good lord's bower, + Saw mony black steeds an' brown; + I'm feared it be mony unco lords 55 + Havin' my love from town." + + As she came by my gude lord's bower, + Saw mony black steeds an' grey; + "I'm feared its mony unco lords + Havin' my love to the clay." 60 + + + + +THE SPANISH VIRGIN. + +From Percy's _Reliques_, iii. 316. + + +The three following pieces are here inserted merely as specimens of a +class of tales, horrible in their incidents but feeble in their +execution, of which whole dreary volumes were printed and read about two +centuries ago. They were all of them, probably, founded on Italian +novels. + +"The subject of this ballad is taken from a folio collection of tragical +stories, entitled, _The Theatre of God's Judgments, by Dr. Beard and Dr. +Taylor_, 1642. Pt. 2, p. 89. The text is given (with corrections) from +two copies; one of them in black-letter in the Pepys Collection. In this +every stanza is accompanied with the following distich by way of burden: + + Oh jealousie! thou art nurst in hell: + Depart from hence, and therein dwell." + + All tender hearts, that ake to hear + Of those that suffer wrong; + All you that never shed a tear, + Give heed unto my song. + + Fair Isabella's tragedy 5 + My tale doth far exceed: + Alas, that so much cruelty + In female hearts should breed! + + In Spain a lady liv'd of late, + Who was of high degree; 10 + Whose wayward temper did create + Much woe and misery. + + Strange jealousies so filled her head + With many a vain surmize, + She thought her lord had wrong'd her bed, 15 + And did her love despise. + + A gentlewoman passing fair + Did on this lady wait; + With bravest dames she might compare; + Her beauty was compleat. 20 + + Her lady cast a jealous eye + Upon this gentle maid, + And taxt her with disloyaltye, + And did her oft upbraid. + + In silence still this maiden meek 25 + Her bitter taunts would bear, + While oft adown her lovely cheek + Would steal the falling tear. + + In vain in humble sort she strove + Her fury to disarm; 30 + As well the meekness of the dove + The bloody hawke might charm. + + Her lord, of humour light and gay, + And innocent the while, + As oft as she came in his way, 35 + Would on the damsell smile. + + And oft before his lady's face, + As thinking her her friend, + He would the maiden's modest grace + And comeliness commend. 40 + + All which incens'd his lady so, + She burnt with wrath extreame; + At length the fire that long did glow, + Burst forth into a flame. + + For on a day it so befell, 45 + When he was gone from home, + The lady all with rage did swell, + And to the damsell come. + + And charging her with great offence + And many a grievous fault, 50 + She bade her servants drag her thence, + Into a dismal vault, + + That lay beneath the common-shore,-- + A dungeon dark and deep, + Where they were wont, in days of yore, 55 + Offenders great to keep. + + There never light of chearful day + Dispers'd the hideous gloom; + But dank and noisome vapours play + Around the wretched room: 60 + + And adders, snakes, and toads therein, + As afterwards was known, + Long in this loathsome vault had bin, + And were to monsters grown. + + Into this foul and fearful place, 65 + The fair one innocent + Was cast, before her lady's face; + Her malice to content. + + This maid no sooner enter'd is, + But strait, alas! she hears 70 + The toads to croak, and snakes to hiss: + Then grievously she fears. + + Soon from their holes the vipers creep, + And fiercely her assail, + Which makes the damsel sorely weep, 75 + And her sad fate bewail. + + With her fair hands she strives in vain + Her body to defend; + With shrieks and cries she doth complain, + But all is to no end. 80 + + A servant listning near the door, + Struck with her doleful noise, + Strait ran his lady to implore; + But she'll not hear his voice. + + With bleeding heart he goes agen 85 + To mark the maiden's groans; + And plainly hears, within the den, + How she herself bemoans. + + Again he to his lady hies, + With all the haste he may; 90 + She into furious passion flies, + And orders him away. + + Still back again does he return + To hear her tender cries; + The virgin now had ceas'd to mourn, 95 + Which fill'd him with surprize. + + In grief, and horror, and affright, + He listens at the walls + But finding all was silent quite, + He to his lady calls. 100 + + "Too sure, O lady," now quoth he, + "Your cruelty hath sped; + Make haste, for shame, and come and see; + I fear the virgin's dead." + + She starts to hear her sudden fate, 105 + And does with torches run; + But all her haste was now too late, + For death his worst had done. + + The door being open'd, strait they found + The virgin stretch'd along; 110 + Two dreadful snakes had wrapt her round, + Which her to death had stung. + + One round her legs, her thighs, her waist, + Had twin'd his fatal wreath; + The other close her neck embrac'd, 115 + And stopt her gentle breath. + + The snakes being from her body thrust, + Their bellies were so fill'd, + That with excess of blood they burst, + Thus with their prey were kill'd. 120 + + The wicked lady, at this sight, + With horror strait ran mad; + So raving dy'd, as was most right, + 'Cause she no pity had. + + Let me advise you, ladies all, 125 + Of jealousy beware: + It causeth many a one to fall, + And is the devil's snare. + + + + +THE LADY ISABELLA'S TRAGEDY. + + +"This ballad is given from an old black-letter copy in the Pepys +Collection, collated with another in the British Museum, H. 263, folio. +It is there entitled, _The Lady Isabella's Tragedy, or the Step-Mother's +Cruelty; being a relation of a lamentable and cruel murther, committed +on the body of the Lady Isabella, the only daughter of a noble Duke, &c. +To the tune of The Lady's Fall_. To some copies are annexed eight more +modern stanzas, entitled, _The Dutchess's and Cook's Lamentation_." +Percy's _Reliques_, iii. 199. + +The copy in Durfey's _Pills to Purge Melancholy_, v. 53, is nearly +_verbatim_ the same. + + There was a lord of worthy fame, + And a hunting he would ride, + Attended by a noble traine + Of gentrye by his side. + + And while he did in chase remaine, 5 + To see both sport and playe, + His ladye went, as she did feigne, + Unto the church to praye. + + This lord he had a daughter deare, + Whose beauty shone so bright, 10 + She was belov'd, both far and neare, + Of many a lord and knight. + + Fair Isabella was she call'd, + A creature faire was shee; + She was her fathers only joye; 15 + As you shall after see. + + Therefore her cruel step-mother + Did envye her so much, + That daye by daye she sought her life, + Her malice it was such. 20 + + She bargain'd with the master-cook + To take her life awaye; + And taking of her daughter's book, + She thus to her did saye:-- + + "Go home, sweet daughter, I thee praye, 25 + Go hasten presentlie, + And tell unto the master-cook + These wordes that I tell thee. + + "And bid him dresse to dinner streight + That faire and milk-white doe 30 + That in the parke doth shine so bright, + There's none so faire to showe." + + This ladye fearing of no harme, + Obey'd her mothers will; + And presentlye she hasted home, 35 + Her pleasure to fulfill. + + She streight into the kitchen went, + Her message for to tell; + And there she spied the master-cook, + Who did with malice swell. 40 + + "Nowe, master-cook, it must be soe, + Do that which I thee tell: + You needes must dresse the milk-white doe, + Which you do knowe full well." + + Then streight his cruell bloodye hands, 45 + He on the ladye layd; + Who quivering and shaking stands, + While thus to her he sayd: + + "Thou art the doe that I must dresse; + See here, behold my knife; 50 + For it is pointed presently + To ridd thee of thy life." + + "O then," cried out the scullion-boye, + As loud as loud might bee, + "O save her life, good master-cook, 55 + And make your pyes of mee! + + "For pityes sake do not destroye + My ladye with your knife; + You know shee is her father's joye; + For Christes sake save her life!" 60 + + "I will not save her life," he sayd, + "Nor make my pyes of thee; + Yet if thou dost this deed bewraye, + Thy butcher I will bee." + + Now when this lord he did come home 65 + For to sitt down and eat, + He called for his daughter deare, + To come and carve his meat. + + "Now sit you downe," his ladye sayd, + "O sit you downe to meat; 70 + Into some nunnery she is gone; + Your daughter deare forget." + + Then solemnlye he made a vowe + Before the companie, + That he would neither eat nor drinke, 75 + Until he did her see. + + O then bespake the scullion-boye. + With a loud voice so hye; + "If now you will your daughter see, + My lord, cut up that pye: 80 + + "Wherein her fleshe is minced small, + And parched with the fire; + All caused by her step-mother, + Who did her death desire. + + "And cursed bee the master-cook, 85 + O cursed may he bee! + I proffered him my own heart's blood, + From death to set her free." + + Then all in blacke this lord did mourne, + And for his daughters sake, 90 + He judged her cruell step-mother + To be burnt at a stake. + + Likewise he judg'd the master-cook + In boiling lead to stand. + And made the simple scullion-boye 95 + The heire of all his land. + + + + +THE CRUEL BLACK. + + +_A Collection of Old Ballads_, (1723,) ii. 152: also Evans's _Old +Ballads_, iii. 232. Entered in the Stationers' _Registers, 1569-70_. A +writer in the _British Bibliographer_, (iv. 182,) has pointed out that +this is only one of Bandello's novels versified. The novel is the 21st +of the Third Part, (London, 1792.) + +_A lamentable Ballad of the tragical End of a gallant Lord and virtuous +Lady; together with the untimely Death of their two Children: wickedly +performed by a Heathenish and Blood-thirsty Black-a-moor, their Servant; +the like of which Cruelty and Murder was never before heard of._ + + In Rome a nobleman did wed + A virgin of great fame; + A fairer creature never did + Dame Nature ever frame: + By whom he had two children fair, 5 + Whose beauty did excel; + They were their parents only joy, + They lov'd them both so well. + + The lord he lov'd to hunt the buck, + The tiger, and the boar; 10 + And still for swiftness always took + With him a black-a-moor: + Which black-a-moor within the wood + His lord he did offend, + For which he did him then correct, 15 + In hopes he would amend. + + The day it grew unto an end; + Then homewards he did haste, + Where with his lady he did rest, + Until the night was past. 20 + Then in the morning he did rise, + And did his servants call; + A hunting he provides to go: + Straight they were ready all + + To cause the toyl the lady did 25 + Intreat him not to go: + "Alas, good lady," then quoth he, + "Why art thou grieved so? + Content thyself, I will return + With speed to thee again." 30 + "Good father," quoth the little babes, + "With us here still remain." + + "Farewel, dear children, I will go + A fine thing for to buy;" + But they, therewith nothing content, 35 + Aloud began to cry. + The mother takes them by the hand, + Saying, "Come, go with me + Unto the highest tower, where + Your father you shall see." 40 + + The black-a-moor, perceiving now, + Who then did stay behind, + His lord to be a hunting gone, + Began to call to mind: + "My master he did me correct, 45 + My fault not being great; + Now of his wife I'll be reveng'd, + She shall not me intreat." + + The place was moated round about; + The bridge he up did draw; 50 + The gates he bolted very fast; + Of none he stood in awe. + He up into the tower went, + The lady being there; + Who, when she saw his countenance grim, 55 + She straight began to fear. + + But now my trembling heart it quakes + To think what I must write; + My senses all begin to fail, + My soul it doth affright. 60 + Yet must I make an end of this + Which here I have begun, + Which will make sad the hardest heart, + Before that I have done. + + This wretch unto the lady went, 65 + And her with speed did will, + His lust forthwith to satisfy, + His mind for to fulfil. + The lady she amazed was, + To hear the villain speak; 70 + "Alas," quoth she, "what shall I do? + With grief my heart will break." + + With that he took her in his arms; + She straight for help did cry; + "Content yourself, lady," he said, 75 + "Your husband is not nigh: + The bridge is drawn, the gates are shut, + Therefore come lie with me, + Or else I do protest and vow, + Thy butcher I will be." 80 + + The crystal tears ran down her face, + Her children cried amain, + And sought to help their mother dear, + But all it was in vain; + For that egregious filthy rogue 85 + Her hands behind her bound, + And then perforce with all his might, + He threw her on the ground. + + With that she shriek'd, her children cried, + And such a noise did make, 90 + That town-folks, hearing her laments, + Did seek their parts to take: + But all in vain; no way was found + To help the lady's need, + Who cried to them most piteously, 95 + "O help! O help with speed!" + + Some run into the forest wide, + Her lord home for to call; + And they that stood still did lament + This gallant lady's fall. 100 + With speed her lord came posting home; + He could not enter in; + His lady's cries did pierce his heart; + To call he did begin: + + "O hold thy hand, thou savage moor, 105 + To hurt her do forbear, + Or else be sure, if I do live, + Wild horses shall thee tear." + With that the rogue ran to the wall, + He having had his will, 110 + And brought one child under his arm, + His dearest blood to spill. + + The child, seeing his father there, + To him for help did call: + "O father! help my mother dear, 115 + We shall be killed all." + Then fell the lord upon his knee, + And did the moor intreat, + To save the life of this poor child, + Whose fear was then so great. 120 + + But this vile wretch the little child + By both the heels did take + And dash'd his brains against the wall, + Whilst parent's hearts did ake: + That being done, straightway he ran 125 + The other child to fetch, + And pluck'd it from the mother's breast, + Most like a cruel wretch. + + Within one hand a knife he brought, + The child within the other; 130 + And holding it over the wall, + Saying, "Thus shall die thy mother," + With that he cut the throat of it; + Then to the father he did call, + To look how he the head did cut, 135 + And down the head did fall. + + This done, he threw it down the wall + Into the moat so deep; + Which made the father wring his hands, + And grievously to weep. 140 + Then to the lady went this rogue, + Who was near dead with fear, + Yet this vile wretch most cruelly + Did drag her by the hair; + + And drew her to the very wall, 145 + Which when her lord did see, + Then presently he cried out, + And fell upon his knee: + Quoth he, "If thou wilt save her life, + Whom I do love so dear, 150 + I will forgive thee all is past, + Though they concern me near. + + "O save her life, I thee beseech; + O save her, I thee pray, + And I will grant thee what thou wilt 155 + Demand of me this day." + "Well," quoth the moor, "I do regard + The moan that thou dost make: + If thou wilt grant me what I ask, + I'll save her for thy sake." 160 + + "O save her life, and then demand + Of me what thing thou wilt." + "Cut off thy nose, and not one drop + Of her blood shall be spilt." + With that the lord presently took 165 + A knife within his hand, + And then his nose he quite cut off, + In place where he did stand. + + "Now I have bought my lady's life," + He to the moor did call; 170 + "Then take her," quoth this wicked rogue, + And down he let her fall. + Which when her gallant lord did see, + His senses all did fail; + Yet many sought to save his life, 175 + But nothing could prevail. + + When as the moor did see him dead, + Then did he laugh amain + At them who for their gallant lord + And lady did complain: 180 + Quoth he, "I know you'll torture me, + If that you can me get, + But all your threats I do not fear, + Nor yet regard one whit. + + "Wild horses shall my body tear, 185 + I know it to be true, + But I prevent you of that pain:" + And down himself he threw. + + Too good a death for such a wretch, + A villain void of fear! 190 + And thus doth end as sad a tale + As ever man did hear. + + + + +BOOK IV. + + + + +KING MALCOLM AND SIR COLVIN. See p. 173. + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 6. + + + There ance liv'd a king in fair Scotland, + King Malcolm called by name; + Whom ancient history gives record, + For valour, worth, and fame. + + And it fell ance upon a day, 5 + The king sat down to dine; + And then he miss'd a favourite knight, + Whose name was Sir Colvin. + + But out it speaks another knight, + Ane o' Sir Colvin's kin; 10 + "He's lyin' in bed, right sick in love, + All for your daughter Jean." + + "O waes me," said the royal king, + "I'm sorry for the same; + She maun take bread and wine sae red, 15 + Give it to Sir Colvin." + + Then gently did she bear the bread, + Her page did carry the wine, + And set a table at his bed;-- + "Sir Colvin, rise and dine." 20 + + "O well love I the wine, lady, + Come frae your lovely hand; + But better love I your fair body, + Than all fair Scotland's strand." + + "O hold your tongue now, Sir Colvin, 25 + Let all your folly be; + My love must be by honour won, + Or nane shall enjoy me. + + "But on the head o' Elrick's hill, + Near by yon sharp hawthorn, 30 + Where never a man with life e'er came, + Sin our sweet Christ was born;-- + + "O ye'll gang there and walk a' night, + And boldly blaw your horn; + With honour that ye do return, 35 + Ye'll marry me the morn." + + Then up it raise him, Sir Colvin, + And dress'd in armour keen; + And he is on to Elrick's hill, + Without light of the meen. 40 + + At midnight mark the meen upstarts; + The knight walk'd up and down; + While loudest cracks o' thunder roar'd, + Out ower the bent sae brown. + + Then by the twinkling of an e'e 45 + He spied an armed knight; + A fair lady bearing his brand, + Wi' torches burning bright. + + Then he cried high, as he came nigh, + "Coward, thief, I bid you flee! 50 + There is not ane comes to this hill, + But must engage wi' me. + + "Ye'll best take road before I come, + And best take foot and flee; + Here is a sword baith sharp and broad, 55 + Will quarter you in three." + + Sir Colvin said, "I'm not afraid + Of any here I see; + You hae not ta'en your God before; + Less dread hae I o' thee." 60 + + Sir Colvin then he drew his sword, + His foe he drew his brand; + And they fought there on Elrick's hill + Till they were bluidy men. + + The first an' stroke the knight he strake, 65 + Gae Colvin a slight wound; + The next an' stroke Lord Colvin strake, + Brought's foe unto the ground. + + "I yield, I yield," the knight he said, + "I fairly yield to thee; 70 + Nae ane came e'er to Elrick-hill + E'er gain'd such victorie. + + "I and my forbears here did haunt + Three hundred years and more; + I'm safe to swear a solemn oath, 75 + We were never beat before." + + "An asking," said the lady gay, + "An asking ye'll grant me:" + "Ask on, ask on," said Sir Colvin, + "What may your asking be?" 80 + + "Ye'll gie me hame my wounded knight, + Let me fare on my way; + And I'se ne'er be seen on Elrick's hill, + By night, nor yet by day; + And to this place we'll come nae mair, 85 + Cou'd we win safe away; + + "To trouble any Christian one + Lives in the righteous law, + We'll come nae mair unto this place, + Cou'd we win safe awa'." 90 + + "O ye'se get hame your wounded knight, + Ye shall not gang alane; + But I maun hae a wad o' him, + Before that we twa twine." + + Sir Colvin being a book-learn'd man, 95 + Sae gude in fencing tee, + He's drawn a stroke behind his hand, + And followed in speedilie. + + Sae fierce a stroke Sir Colvin's drawn, + And followed in speedilie, 100 + The knight's brand and sword hand + In the air he gar'd them flee. + + It flew sae high into the sky, + And lighted on the ground; + The rings that were on these fingers 105 + Were worth five hundred pound. + + Up he has ta'en that bluidy hand, + Set it before the king; + And the morn it was Wednesday, + When he married his daughter Jean. 110 + + + + +SKI[OE]N ANNA; FAIR ANNIE, See p. 191. + + +Translated in Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, ii. 103, from Syv's +_Kj[oe]mpe Viser_. See another copy in Nyerup's _Danske Viser_, iv. 59. + + The reivers they wad a stealing gang, + To steal sae far frae hame; + And stown ha'e they the king's daughter, + Fair Annie hight by name. + + They've carried her into fremmit lands, 5 + To a duke's son of high degree; + And he has gie'n for Fair Annie + Mickle goud and white money. + + And eight lang years o' love sae leal + Had past atween them twae; 10 + And now a bonny bairntime + O' seven fair sons had they. + + That lord he was of Meckelborg land, + Of princely blood and stemme; + And for his worth and curtesy 15 + That lord a king became. + + But little wist that noble king, + As little his barons bald, + That it was the king of England's daughter, + Had sae to him been sald! 20 + + And eight lang years sae past and gane, + Fair Annie now may rue; + For now she weets in fremmit lands + Anither bride he'll wooe. + + Fair Annie's till his mither gane; 25 + Fell low down on her knee; + "A boon, a boon, now lady mither, + Ye grant your oys and me! + + "If ever ye kist, if ever ye blest, + And bade them thrive and thee, 30 + O save them now frae scaith and scorn, + O save your oys and me! + + "Their father's pride may yet relent; + His mither's rede he'll hear; + Nor for anither break the heart 35 + That ance to him was dear. + + "He had my love and maiden pride; + I had nae mair to gi'e; + He well may fa' a brighter bride, + But nane that lo'es like me." 40 + + "A brighter bride he ne'er can fa'; + A richer well he may; + But daughter dearer nor Fair Annie, + His mither ne'er can ha'e." + + That princess stood her son before: 45 + "My lord the king," said she, + "Fy on the lawless life ye lead, + Dishonour'd as ye be! + + "Its Annie's gude, and Annie's fair, + And dearly she lo'es thee; 50 + And the brightest gems in a' your crown + Your seven fair sons wad be. + + "Her love, her life, her maiden fame, + Wi' you she shar'd them a'; + Now share wi' her your bridal bed; 55 + Her due she well may fa'." + + "To my bridal bed, my mither dear, + Fair Annie ne'er can win; + I coft her out of fremmit lands, + Nor ken her kith or kin." 60 + + And he's gard write a braid letter, + His wedding to ordein; + And to betrothe anither bride + To be his noble queen. + + Fair Annie up at her bower window 65 + Heard a' that knight did say: + "O God, my heavenly Father! gif + My heart mat brast in twae!" + + Fair Annie stood at her bower window, + And heard that knight sae bald: 70 + "O God, my heavenly Father! gif + I mat my dearest hald!" + + That lord is to Fair Annie gane: + Says, "Annie, thou winsome may, + O whatten a gude gift will ye gi'e 75 + My bride on her bridal day?" + + "I'll gi'e her a gift, and a very gude gift, + And a dear-bought gift to me; + For I'll gi'e her my seven fair sons, + Her pages for to be." 80 + + "O that is a gift, but nae gude gift, + Frae thee, Fair Annie, I ween; + And ye maun gi'e some richer gift + Befitting a noble queen." + + "I'll gi'e her a gift, and a dear, dear gift, 85 + And a gift I brook wi' care; + For I'll gi'e her my dearest life, + That I dow brook nae mair." + + "O that is a gift, but a dowie gift, + Now, Annie, thou winsome may; 90 + Ye maun gi'e her your best goud girdle, + Her gude will for to ha'e." + + "Oh na, that girdle she ne'er shall fa'; + That I can never bear; + The luckless morn I gave you a', 95 + Ye gae me that girdle to wear." + + That lord before his bride gan stand: + "My noble bride and queen! + O whatten a gift to my lemman Annie + Will now by you be gi'en?" 100 + + "I'll gi'e her a gift, and a very gude gift, + My lord the king," said she; + "For I'll gi'e her my auld shoe to wear, + Best fitting her base degree." + + "O that is a gift, but nae gude gift, 105 + My noble bride and queen; + And ye maun gi'e her anither gift, + If you'll my favour win." + + "Then I'll gi'e her a very gude gift, + My lord the king," said she; 110 + "I'll gie her my millers seven, that lig + Sae far ayont the sea. + + "Well are they fed, well are they clad, + And live in heal and weal; + And well they ken to measure out 115 + The wheat, but and caneel." + + Fair Annie says, "My noble lord, + This boon ye grant to me; + Let me gang up to the bridal bower, + Your young bride for to see." 120 + + "O gangna, Annie, gangna, there, + Nor come that bower within; + Ye maunna come near that bridal bower, + Wad ye my favour win." + + Fair Annie is till his mither gane: 125 + "O lady mither," said she, + "May I gang to the bridal bower, + My lord's new bride to see?" + + "That well ye may," his mither said; + But see that ye're buskit bra', 130 + And clad ye in your best cleading, + Wi' your bower maidens a'." + + Fair Annie she's gaen to the bower, + Wi' heart fu' sair and sad; + Wi' a' her seven sons her before, 135 + In the red scarlet clad. + + Fair Annie's taen a silver can, + Afore the bride to skink; + And down her cheeks the tears ay run, + Upon hersell to think. 140 + + The bride gan stand her lord before: + "Now speak, and dinna spare; + Whare is this fair young lady frae? + Whareto greets she sae sair?" + + "O hear ye now, dear lady mine, 145 + The truth I tell to thee; + It is but a bonny niece of mine, + That is come o'er the sea." + + "O wae is me, my lord," she says, + "To hear you say sic wrang; 150 + It can be nane but your auld lemman; + God rede whare she will gang!" + + "Then till her sorrow, and till her wae, + I'll tell the truth to thee; + For she was sald frae fremmit lands, 155 + For mickle goud to me. + + "Her bairntime a' stand her before, + Her seven young sons sae fair; + And they maun now your pages be, + That maks her heart sae sair." 160 + + "A little sister ance I had, + A sister that hight Ann; + By reivers she was stown awa', + And sald in fremmit land. + + "She was a bairn when she was stown, 165 + Yet in her tender years; + And sair her parents mourn'd for her, + Wi' mony sighs and tears. + + "Art thou fair Annie, sister mine, + Thou noble violet flower? 170 + Her mither never smil'd again + Frae Annie left her bower! + + "O thou art she! a sister's heart + Wants nane that tale to tell! + And there he is, thy ain true lord; 175 + God spare ye lang and well!" + + And gladness through the palace spread, + Wi' mickle game and glee; + And blythe were a' for fair Annie, + Her bridal day to see. 180 + + And now untill her father's land + This young bride she is gane; + And her sister Annie's youngest son + She hame wi' her has ta'en. + + + + +LADY MARGARET. See p. 205. + +From Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 180. + + + "The corn is turning ripe, Lord John, + The nuts are growing fu', + And ye are bound for your ain countrie; + Fain wad I go wi' you." + + "Wi me, Marg'ret, wi me, Marg'ret, 5 + What wad ye do wi' me? + I've mair need o' a pretty little boy, + To wait upon my steed." + + "It's I will be your pretty little boy, + To wait upon your steed; 10 + And ilka town that we come to, + A pack of hounds I'll lead." + + "My hounds will eat o' the bread o' wheat, + And ye of the bread of bran: + And then you will sit and sigh, 15 + That e'er ye loed a man." + + The first water that they cam to, + I think they call it Clyde, + He saftly unto her did say,-- + "Lady Marg'ret, will ye ride?" 20 + + The first step that she steppit in, + She steppit to the knee; + Says, "Wae be to ye, waefu' water, + For through ye I maun be." + + The second step that she steppit in, 25 + She steppit to the middle, + And sigh'd, and said, Lady Margaret, + "I've stain'd my gowden girdle." + + The third step that she steppit in, + She steppit to the neck; 30 + The pretty babe within her sides, + The cauld it garr'd it squake. + + "Lie still my babe, lie still my babe, + Lie still as lang's ye may, + For your father rides on horseback high, 35 + Cares little for us twae." + + It's whan she cam to the other side, + She sat doun on a stane; + Says, "Them that made me, help me now, + For I am far frae hame. 40 + + "How far is it frae your mither's bouer, + Gude Lord John tell to me?" + "It's therty miles, Lady Margaret, + It's therty miles and three: + And ye'se be wed to ane o' her serving men, 45 + For ye'se get na mair o' me." + + Then up bespak the wylie parrot, + As it sat on the tree;-- + "Ye lee, ye lee, Lord John," it said, + "Sae loud as I hear ye lee. 50 + + "Ye say it's thirty miles frae your mither's bouer, + Whan it's but barely three; + And she'll ne'er be wed to a serving man, + For she'll be your ain ladie." + + * * * * * * + Monie a lord and fair ladie 55 + Met Lord John in the closs, + But the bonniest face amang them a', + Was hauding Lord John's horse. + + Monie a lord and gay ladie + Sat dining in the ha', 60 + But the bonniest face that was there, + Was waiting on them a'. + + O up bespak Lord John's sister, + A sweet young maid was she: + "My brither has brought a bonnie young page, + His like I ne'er did see; 66 + But the red flits fast frae his cheek, + And the tear stands in his ee." + + But up bespak Lord John's mither, + She spak wi' meikle scorn: 70 + "He's liker a woman gret wi' bairn, + Than onie waiting-man." + + "It's ye'll rise up, my bonnie boy, + And gie my steed the hay:"-- + "O that I will, my dear master, 75 + As fast as I can gae." + + She took the hay aneath her arm, + The corn intil her hand; + But atween the stable door and the staw, + Lady Marg'ret made a stand. 80 + + * * * * * * + "O open the door, Lady Margaret, + O open and let me in; + I want to see if my steed be fed, + Or my grey hounds fit to rin." + + "I'll na open the door, Lord John," she said, 85 + "I'll na open it to thee, + Till ye grant to me my ae request, + And a puir ane it's to me. + + "Ye'll gie to me a bed in an outhouse, + For my young son and me, 90 + And the meanest servant in a' the place, + To wait on him and me." + + "I grant, I grant, Lady Marg'ret," he said, + "A' that, and mair frae me, + The very best bed in a' the place + To your young son and thee: 95 + And my mither, and my sister dear, + To wait on him and thee. + + "And a' thae lands, and a' thae rents, + They sall be his and thine; 100 + Our wedding and our kirking day, + They sall be all in ane." + + And he has tane Lady Margaret, + And row'd her in the silk; + And he has tane his ain young son, 105 + And wash'd him in the milk. + + + + +EARL RICHARD (B). See p. 260. + +From Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 15. + + + There was a shepherd's dochter + Kept sheep on yonder hill; + Bye cam a knicht frae the king's court, + And he wad hae his will. + + Whan he had got his wills o' her, 5 + His will as he has tane; + "Wad ye be sae gude and kind, + As tell to me your name?" + + "Some ca's me Jock, some ca's me John, + Some disna ken my name; 10 + But whan I'm in the king's court, + Mitchcock is my name." + + "Mitchcock! hey!" the lady did say, + And spelt it oure again; + "If that's your name in the Latin tongue, 15 + Earl Richard is your name!" + + O jumpt he upon his horse, + And said he wad gae ride; + Kilted she her green claithing, + And said she wad na bide. 20 + + And he was never sae discreet, + As bid her loup on and ride; + And she was ne'er sae meanly bred, + As for to bid him bide. + + And whan they cam to yon water, 25 + It was running like a flude; + "I've learnt it in my mither's bouer, + I've learnt it for my gude, + That I can soum this wan water, + Like a fish in a flude. 30 + + "I've learnt it in my father's bouer, + Ive learnt it for my better, + And I will soum this wan water, + As tho' I was ane otter." + + "Jump on behind, ye weill-faur'd may, 35 + Or do ye chuse to ride?" + "No, thank ye, sir," the lady said, + "I wad rather chuse to wyde;" + And afore that he was 'mid-water, + She was at the ither side. 40 + + "Turn back, turn back, ye weill-faur'd may, + My heart will brak in three;" + "And sae did mine, on yon bonnie hill-side, + Whan ye wad na let me be." + + "Whare gat ye that gay claithing, 45 + This day I see on thee?" + "My mither was a gude milk-nurse, + And a gude nourice was she, + She nurs'd the Earl o' Stockford's ae dochter, + And gat a' this to me." 50 + + Whan she cam to the king's court, + She rappit wi' a ring; + Sae ready was the king himsel' + To lat the lady in. + + "Gude day, gude day, my liege the king, 55 + Gude day, gude day, to thee;" + "Gude day," quo' he, "my lady fair, + What is't ye want wi' me?" + + "There is a knicht into your court, + This day has robbed me;" 60 + "O has he tane your gowd," he says, + "Or has he tane your fee?" + + "He has na tane my gowd," she says, + "Nor yet has he my fee; + But he has tane my maiden-head, 65 + The flow'r o' my bodie." + + "O gin he be a single man, + His body I'll gie thee; + But gin he be a married man, + I'll hang him on a tree." 70 + + Then out bespak the queen hersel', + Wha sat by the king's knee: + "There's na a knicht in a' our court + Wad hae dune that to thee, + Unless it war my brither, Earl Richard, 75 + And forbid it, it war he!" + + "Wad ye ken your fause love, + Amang a hundred men?" + "I wad," said the bonnie ladie, + "Amang five hundred and ten." 80 + + The king made a' his merry men pass, + By ane, by twa, and three; + Earl Richard us'd to be the first man, + But was hindmost man that day. + + He cam hauping on ae foot, 85 + And winking wi' ae ee; + "Ha! ha!" cried the bonnie ladie, + "That same young man are ye." + + He has pou'd out a hundred pounds, + Weel lockit in a glove; 90 + "Gin ye be a courteous may, + Ye'll chose anither love." + + "What care I for your hundred pounds? + Nae mair than ye wad for mine; + What's a hundred pounds to me, 95 + To a marriage wi' a king! + + "I'll hae nane o' your gowd, + Nor either o' your fee; + But I will hae your ain bodie, + The king has grantit me." 100 + + "O was ye gentle gotten, maid? + Or was ye gentle born? + Or hae ye onie gerss growin'? + Or hae ye onie corn? + + "Or hae ye onie lands or rents 105 + Lying at libertie? + Or hae ye onie education, + To dance alang wi' me?" + + "I was na gentle gotten, madam, + Nor was I gentle born; 110 + Neither hae I gerss growin', + Nor hae I onie corn. + + "I hae na onie lands or rents, + Lying at libertie; + Nor hae I onie education, 115 + To dance along wi' thee." + + Whan the marriage it was oure, + And ilk ane took their horse,-- + "It never sat a beggar's brat, + At na knicht's back to be." 120 + + He lap on ae milk-white steed, + And she lap on anither, + And syne the twa rade out the way + Like sister and like brither. + + The ladie met wi' a beggar-wife, 125 + And gied her half o' crown-- + "Tell a' your neebours whan ye gae hame, + That Earl Richard's your gude-son." + + "O haud your tongue, ye beggar's brat, + My heart will brak in three;" 130 + "And sae did mine on yon bonnie hill-side, + Whan ye wad na lat me be." + + Whan she cam to yon nettle-dyke-- + "An my auld mither was here, + Sae weill as she wad ye pou; 135 + She wad boil ye weill, and butter ye weill, + And sup till she war fou, + Syne laye her head upo' her dish doup, + And sleep like onie sow." + + And whan she cam to Tyne's water, 140 + She wylilie did say-- + "Fareweil, ye mills o' Tyne's water, + With thee I bid gude-day. + + "Fareweil, ye mills o' Tyne's water, + To you I bid gude-een; 145 + Whare monie a time I've fill'd my pock, + At mid-day and at een." + + "Hoch! had I drank the well-water, + Whan first I drank the wine, + Never a mill-capon 150 + Wad hae been a love o' mine." + + Whan she cam to Earl Richard's house, + The sheets war Hollan' fine; + "O haud awa thae linen sheets, + And bring to me the linsey clouts, 155 + I hae been best used in." + + "O haud your tongue, ye beggar's brat, + My heart will brak in three;" + "And sae did mine on yon bonnie hill-side, + Whan ye wadna lat me be." 160 + + "I wish I had drank the well-water, + Whan first I drank the beer; + That ever a shepherd's dochter + Shou'd hae been my only dear!" + + "Ye'll turn about, Earl Richard, 165 + And mak some mair o' me: + An ye mak me lady o' ae puir plow, + I can mak you laird o' three." + + "If ye be the Earl o' Stockford's dochter, + As I've some thouchts ye be, 170 + Aft hae I waited at your father's yett, + But your face I ne'er could see." + + Whan they cam to her father's yett, + She tirled on the pin; + And an auld belly-blind man was sittin' there, 175 + As they were entering in:-- + + "The meetest marriage," the belly-blind did cry, + "Atween the ane and the ither; + Atween the Earl o' Stockford's ae dochter, + And the Queen o' England's brither." 180 + + + + +GLOSSARY. + +[hand] Figures placed after words denote the pages in which they occur. + + + aboon, aboun, abune, _above_; + 151, above the surface of the water. + + ackward stroke, 84, 178, _cross or back stroke_. + + acton, _a leather jacket worn under a coat of mail_. + + ae, _only_. + + airts, _quarters_, _points of the compass_. + + an, _one_; + an ae, _one single_. + + aneath, _beneath_. + + anes, _once_. + + asking, _boon_. + + aughts, _owns_. + + aukeward stroke, 178, 84, _cross or back stroke_. + + auld son, 102. "_Young Son_ and _Auld Son_ are phrases used only to + denote the comparative ages of children. The _young son_ is + perhaps the child now in the nurse's arms; + the _auld son_, he who has just begun to walk without + leading-strings."--_Chambers._ + + ava, _of all_; + 287, _at all_. + + avowe, _vow_. + + ayont, _beyond_. + + + baffled, _disgraced_. + + bairntime, _brood of children_. + + bale-fire, _bonfire_. + + band, _agreement_. + + bane-fire, _bonfire_. + + bedeene, 247, _immediately?_ _continuously?_ + + bedight, _furnished_. + + beforne, _before_. + + belive, _soon_. + + belly blind, 365, _stone blind_. + + ben, _in_. + + bent, _a field where the coarse grass so named grows_. + + big, _build_; + biggit, _built_. + + bigly, _spacious_, _commodious_. + + billie, _comrade_, _brother_, _a term of affection_. + + binna, _be not_. + + birk, _birch_. + + birl, _drink_, _pour out drink_, _ply with drink_. + + blanne, _stopped_. + + blee, _complexion_. + + bleid, _blood_. + + blint, _blinded_. + + bookin, bo'kin, _bodkin_, _small dagger_. + + bookesman, _clerk_, _secretary_. + + bore, _crevice_, _hole_. + + borrow, _ransom_. + + bouer, _chamber_. + + boun, 334, _go_. + + boun, _ready_. + + bountith, _bounties_. + + boustouslie, _threateningly_. + + bout, _bolt_. + + bow, _bole_, _two bushels_. + + bower, _chamber_. + + bowne, _ready_. + + brae, _hill-side_. + + bragged, _defied_. + + braid letter, _an open letter_, _or_ _letter patent_. + + brash, _sickness_. + + brast, _burst_. + + braw, _brave_, _handsome_. + + breast, 44, _make a horse spring up or forward_? + + brechan, _tartan_, _plaid_. + + brenne, _burn_. + + bricht, _bright_. + + brodinge, 176, _pricking_. + + bully, _see_ billie. + + burd, _lady_. + + busk, _dress_, _make ready_; + busk on, _put on for dress_; + buskit, _dressed_. + + but and, _and also_. + + + can, _used as an auxiliary with the infinitive mood_, _to form an + imperfect tense_. + + caneel, _cinnamon_. + + cannie, _handily_, _gently_. + + caps, 301, _bowls_. + + carle, _churl_; + carline, _feminine of churl_, _old woman_. + + carlish, _churlish_. + + ch[^a]mer, _chamber_. + + chapp'd, _rap_, _tapped_. + + cheer, _countenance_. + + cheer, _entertainment_. + + chive, 290, _mouthfull_? + + cleiding, _clothing_. + + close, _enclosure_. + + coble, _boat_. + + coffer, _coif_, _head-dress_, _cap_? + + coft, _bought_. + + corbies, _ravens_. + + cosh, _quiet_. + + counsayl, _secret_. + + craps, _tops_. + + cryance, 177, _apparently for recreance_, _cowardice_. + + cuist cavels, _cast lots_. + + + daigh, _dough_. + + darna, _dares not_. + + dawing, _dawn_; + daws, _dawns_. + + decaye, 132, _destruction_. + + dee, _die_. + + deemed, _adjudged_. + + deid, _death_. + + den, _hollow_, _small valley_. + + descreeve, _impart_. + + dight, 174, _prepared for_. + + dill, _dole_, _grief_. + + dinge, _strike_. + + discreet, _civil_. + + disna, _does not_. + + dochter, _daughter_. + + dole, _grief_. + + doubte, _dread_. + + douk, _dive_. + + dounae, _cannot_. + + doup, _bottom_. + + dow, _can_; + downa, _cannot_. + + dow, _dove_. + + dowie, _sad_. + + dree, drye, _bear_, _suffer_. + + dyne, _dinner_. + + + eerie, 273, _dreary_, _cheerless_. + + eldern, _old_. + + Eldridge, 170, (Elriche, Elrick, &c.,) _ghostly_, _spectral_: + 179, hill _seems to be omitted_. + + even ower, _half over_. + + + fa', _obtain as one's lot_. + + faem, _foam_. + + fail-dyke, _a wall built of sods_. + + faine, _glad_; + fainly, _gladly_. + + farden, 185, _fared_, _appeared_. + + fare, _go_. + + fecht, _fight_. + + fee, _possessions_, _property_. + + feres, _comrades_. + + fey fowk, 48, _people doomed to die_. + + ficht, _fight_. + + fin, 342? + + fitt, _strain_. + + flatter'd, 156, _fluttered_, _floated_. + + forbears, _ancestors_. + + forbye, _beyond_, _near_, + + fou, _full_. + + frae, 353, _from the time_. + + free, _noble_. + + fremmit, _foreign_. + + fund, _found_. + + + gae, _gave_. + + gae-through-land, _vagabond_. + + gane, _suffice_. + + gar, _cause_, _make_. + + gare, below her, _below the_ [_gore in the edge of the_] _skirt_? + + gear, _goods_. + + gen, _against_. + + gerss, _grass_. + + gif, _if_. + + gin, _if_. + + gin, _trick_, _snare_; + 221, _the device_ (_necessary to open the door_). + + girds, _hoops_. + + glore, _glory_. + + God before, _God help me!_ + + good-brother, 67, _brother-in-law_. + + gorgett, 246, _a kerchief to cover the bosom_. + + graith, _caparisons_; + graith'd, _caparisoned_. + + gramarye, _grammar_, _abstruse or magical learning_. + + grat, _cried_, _wept_. + + greeting, _weeping_, _crying_. + + gresse, _grass_. + + grew, _gray_. + + grype, _griffin_. + + gude-mother, _mother-in-law_. + + gude-son, _son-in-law_. + + gurly, _troubled_, _stormy_. + + + ha', _hall_. + + had, _hold_, _keep_. + + had, _taken_. + + hained, _enclosed_, _surrounded with a hedge_. + + half-fou, _half bushel_. + + hantle, _much_, _great deal_. + + happ'd, _covered_. + + hart-rote, 39, _a term of endearment_, _sweet-heart_. + + haud, _hold_. + + haugh, _low flat ground by a river-side_. + + hauping, _limping_. + + hause, _neck_. + + have owre, 151, _half over_. + + haw, _azure_. + + hawberke, _cuirass_, _coat of mail_. + + heading-hill, _beheading hill_. + + heal, _conceal_. + + heal, _health_. + + hech, _a forcible expiration of breath_, _as in striking a heavy blow_. + + heiding-hill, _the beheading hill_. + + hend, _gentle_. + + het, _hot_. + + hewberke, _cuirass_, _coat of mail_. + + hichts, _heights_. + + hight, _promised_. + + hind-chiel, _young stripling_. + + hinging, _hanging_. + + hollin, _holly_. + + hooly, _slowly_, _softly_. + + houl', _hold_. + + houms, _flat grounds near water_. + + houzle, _give the sacrament_. + + + ilka, _each_. + + inbearing, _forth-putting_. + + iwis, iwysse, _certainly_, _truly_. + + + jack, 81, _a coat of mail_. + + jagged, _pierced_. + + jess, _a leather strap for a hawk's leg, by which it was fastened to + the leash_. + + jooked, _bowed_, _made obeisance_. + + + kail, _broth_. + + kame, _comb_. + + keckle-pin, 300, should be heckle-pin, _the tooth of a heckle or + flax-comb_. + + kell, _a dress of net-work for a woman's head_. + + kempes, _soldiers_; + kemperye man, 169, _soldier-man_. + + kepped, keppit, _intercepted received when falling_. + + kevils, _lots_. + + kiest, _cast_. + + kilted, _tucked up_. + + kipples, _rafters_. + + kirkin, _churching_. + + kirk-shot, _see_ shot. + + knet, _knitted_. + + knicht, _knight_. + + knot, 274, _tie up_. + + knowe, _knoll_. + + + lack, 85, _loss_. + + laigh, _low_. + + lake, 58, _hollow place_, _grave_? + + lamer, _amber_. + + lane, your lane, &c., _alone_. + + lap, _leapt_; + 154, _sprang_. + + lauch, _laugh_. + + lauchters, _laughters_. + + lave, _rest_. + + lawing, _reckoning_. + + laye, 180, _law_. + + lay gowd, _embroider in gold_. + + lay-land, _lea-land_, _unploughed_, _green sward_. + + leafu', _lawful_. + + leal, _loyal_, _true_. + + leech, _leash_. + + leesome, _pleasant_, _lovely_. + + lemin, _gleaming_. + + lere, _countenance_. + + lethal, _deadly_. + + licht, _light_. + + lieve, _dear_. + + lift, _air_. + + lift, _carry off_. + + lig, _lie_. + + lighter, _delivered_. + + limmer, _mean_, _scoundrel_, _wretch_. + + linkin', _riding briskly_. + + linn, _the pool beneath a cataract_. + + lither, _lazy_, _wicked_. + + lodlye, _loathly_. + + loon, _clown_, _rascal_, _low fellow_. + + loot, _let_. + + louted, _bowed_, _bent_. + + + make, _mate_. + + mane, _moan_, _lament_. + + mannot, _may not_. + + maries, _maids_. + + mark, _murky_. + + marrow, _mate_, _husband_; + 67, _antagonist_, _match_. + + mat, _might_. + + mavis, _thrush_. + + maw, _mew_. + + may, _maid_. + + meen, _moon_. + + mell, 70, _milt_, _spleen_. + + micht, _might_. + + mill-capon, _a poor person who asks charity at mills from those who + have grain grinding_. + + millering, 273, _dust of the mill_. + + min', _mind_. + + min', minnie, _mother_, _love_, _dear_. + + minged, 178, _named_, _mentioned_. + + mintet, 335, _took the direction or course_. + + mirk, _dark_. + + monand, _moaning_. + + moodie hill, 84, _mole-hill_. + + morning-gift, _the gift made a wife by her husband, the morning after + marriage_. + + mun, _must_. + + + nee, _nigh_. + + nicked of naye, 162, _denied_; + should be _with naye_. + + niest, _next_. + + nurice, _nurse_. + + + o'erword, _refrain_. + + ohon, _an exclamation of sorrow_, _alas_. + + onbethought, 35, _thought upon_. + + or, _before_. + + out o'hand, _at once_. + + owre, 151, _or_, _ere_. + + oys, _grandsons_. + + + Pa, 144. Qy. _Is this a contraction of pall, and is pall, an alley or + mall in which games of ball are played?_ + + pall, _a kind of rich cloth_. + + Pasche, _Easter_. + + pat, _put_. + + paughty, _insolent_. + + pearlings, _thread laces_. + + pict, _pitch_. + + pike, _pick_. + + pin, _summit_; + gallows pin, _top of the gallows_? + + pine, _sorrow_. + + pitten, _put_. + + plat, _interwove_. + + play-feres, _play-fellows_. + + plight, _pledge_. + + plooky, _pimpled_. + + poin'd, _seized_. + + poke, _bag_. + + pot, _a deep place scooped in a rock or river-bed by the eddies_. + + pou, _pull_. + + prestlye, _quickly_. + + pricked, _rode smartly_. + + prime, _six o'clock_. + + prude, 31, _proud_? + + put down, putten down, _executed_, _killed_. + + + quair, _choir_. + + quha, _who_. + + quick, _alive_. + + + raw, _row_. + + reade, _advise_. + + reave, _deprive_. + + removde, 174, _stirred up_, _excited_. + + renish, renisht, 161, 167? + + rievers, _marauders_, _robbers_. + + rigg, _ridge_. + + rive, _riven_. + + roode, _cross_. + + room, 217, _make room_. + + roudes, _haggard_. + + round tables, _a game much played in the 15th & 16th century_. + + row, _roll_; + rowd, _rolled_. + + + sackless, _guiltless_. + + sald, _sold_. + + sark, _shirt_, _shift_. + + sat, _fitted_. + + saye, 211, _essay_, _try_. + + scale, _scatter_, _disperse_. + + scath, _injury_. + + scoup, 194, _go or fly_. + + scuttle dishes, 273, _wooden platters_. + + sea-maw, _sea-mew_. + + see, (save and see,) _protect_ + + sell, _good_; + sell gude, _right good_. + + sen, 280, _sent_. + + sen, _since_. + + send, _message_. + + shanna, _shall not_. + + shaw'd, _showed_. + + sheen, _bright_. + + shent, _disgraced_, _injured_. + + shope, 39, _shaped_, _assumed_. + + shot, _plot of land_; + also, _a place where fishermen let out their nets_. + + shot-window, _a projected_, _over-hanging window_.[8] + + sicker, sickerly, _sure_, _surely_. + + side, _long_. + + sindry, 301, _peculiar_. + + skeely, _skilful_. + + skink, _serve drink_. + + slode, _slid_, _split_. + + sloe, _slay_; + slone, _slain_. + + smit, _a clashing noise_. + + soum, _swim_. + + spare, _the opening in a woman's gown_. + + spille, _destroy_, _perish_ + + sta', _stall_. + + staf, _stuff_. + + stark and stoor, 254, _strong_, _and big_; + here we may say, _rough and rude_. + + staw, _stole_. + + steek, _stitch_, _thread_; + steeking, _stitching_. + + steeked, _fastened_. + + step-minnie, _step-mother_. + + sterte, _started_. + + stickit, 139, _cut the throat_. + + stock, _the forepart of a bed_. + + stoups, _flagons_. + + stour, stower, 171, _fight_, _disturbance_. + + stown, _stolen_. + + streekit, _stretched_, _struck down_. + + stythe, 43, _sty_. + + suld, _should_. + + swaird, _sword_. + + sweven, _dream_. + + swith, _quickly_. + + syne, _then_, _afterwards_; + ere syne, _before now_. + +[8] It "meant a certain species of aperture, generally circular, which +used to be common in the stair-cases of old wooden houses in Scotland, +and some specimens of which are yet to be seen in the Old Town of +Edinburgh. It was calculated to save glass in those parts of the house +where light was required, but where there was no necessity for the +exclusion of the air."--_Chambers._ + +Not always certainly, since persons are sometimes said to be lying at +the shot window. + + + tee, _too_. + + tein, _suffering_, _grief_. + + thae, _these_. + + theek, theekit, _thatch_, _thatched_. + + think lang, _feel weary_, _ennuy['e]_. + + thir, _these_. + + thocht lang, _grew weary_, _felt ennui_. + + thole, _endure_. + + thorn, 339, (and thorn'd, ii. 335,) _refreshed with food_? + + thouch, _though_. + + thought lang, _grew weary_, _felt ennui_. + + thoust, _thou shouldst_. + + thraw, _twist_. + + till, 170, _entice_. + + till, _to_. + + tine, 175, _lose_; + tint, _lost_. + + tint, 183, 227, _apparently misused by Percy_, for tine, _lose_. + + tippit, _lock (of hair)_. + + tirled at the pin, _trilled, or rattled, at the door-latch_. + + tolbooth, _prison_. + + tone, _the one_, (after the.) + + toom, _empty_. + + trattles, _prattles_, _tattles_. + + trysted, _made an appointment with_. + + twig, _twitch_. + + twine, _part_. + + tyne, _lose_. + + + ugsome, _disgusting_, _loathsome_. + + unco, _strange_. + + unmacklye, 187, _unshapely_. + + + wad, _wager_. + + wad, _would_. + + wae, _sad_. + + wake, _watch_. + + wale, _choose_. + + wallowed, 290, _withered_. + + waly, _alas_. + + wan, _dark_, _black_, _gloomy_. + + wand, _wicker_. + + wane, 221, _a number of people_. + + wantonly, 82, _nimbly_. + + wap, _wrap_. + + warlock, _wizard_. + + wat, _know_. + + wat, _wet_. + + wauked, _watched_. + + waur, _worse_. + + weary, _causing trouble_, _sad_. + + wed-bed, _marriage-bed_. + + weets, _knows_. + + weil-heid, _the vortex of a whirlpool_. + + weill-faur'd, _well-favored_. + + weir, _war_. + + weird, 220, _made liable to_, _exposed to_; + 308, apparently, _foretell that it is important_. + + weirdless, _unlucky_. + + well-wight men, _picked strong men_. + + westlin, _westward_. + + whareto, _wherefore_. + + whin, _furze_. + + wicht, _wight_. + + wicker, _twist, from being too tightly drawn_. + + wight, _strong_, _active_. + + wightlye, _bravely_, _quickly_. + + wightsmen, 325, _husbandmen?_ + + win, _come_, _reach_; + win near, _come near_; + win up, _get up_. + + winsome, _gay_, _comely_. + + win hay, _dry or make_. + + wit, _information_. + + wite, _blame_. + + wode, _mad_. + + woe, _sad_. + + won up, 218, _get up_; + should be _win up_. + + wrocht, _wrought_. + + wush, _washed_. + + wyde, _wade_. + + wyte, 317, _blame_. + + wyte, _know_. + + + yate, _gate_. + + yeard-fast, _fixed in the earth_. + + yestreen, _yesterday_. + + yett, _gate_. + + ying, _young_. + + young son, 105, _see_ auld son. + + y-rode, _rode_. + + y-were, _were_. + + + zechins, _sequins_. + + zoung, _young_. + + Zule, _Yule_, _Christmas_. + + * * * * * + + +Transcriber's Notes + +Page iii: changed "Kinlock" to "Kinloch" (27 b. Laird of Wariestoun, +[Kinloch]) + +Page v: changed "Malcom" to "Malcolm" (King Malcolm and Sir Colvin) + +Page 29; line 62: changed "this" to "thir" (Till thir twa craps drew +near;) + +Page 207; line 34: deleted closing quotation mark (Yet let me go with +thee:) + +Page 226; line 34: changed "countrayc" to "countraye" (Sir John of the +north countraye) + +Page 245; line 48: added closing quotation mark (And there shalt thou +hang on hye.") + +Page 294; line 16: added closing quotation mark (And candles burning +bright.") + +Page 303; lines 53, 54: added missing quotation marks ("What ails the +king at me," he said, "What ails the king at me?") + +Page 303; line 57: added opening quotation mark ("Liars will lie on sell +gude men,) + +Page 317: changed "Wier" to "Weir" (Weir was brought up, at midnight, +from the cellar) + +Page 336; line 32: changed closing single quote to double quote (I will +bate you for stayin' so long.") + +Page 345; line 71: changed "taavelled" to "travelled" (He scarcely +travelled frae the town) + +Page 359; line 52: removed opening single quote (My good lord's broken +bands.') + +Page 397; line 60: changed closing single quote to double (This day has +robbed me;") + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of English and Scottish Ballads (volume 3 +of 8), by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENGLISH, SCOTTISH BALLADS (3 OF 8) *** + +***** This file should be named 38037.txt or 38037.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/0/3/38037/ + +Produced by Simon Gardner, Dianna Adair, Louise Davies and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by the Digital & Multimedia +Center, Michigan State University Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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