Chapter 5

And after the Gordon he has gane, Sae fast as he might dri'e, And soon i' the Gordon's foul heart's blude, He's wroken his fair ladie.

* * * * *

KINMONT WILLIE.

O have ye na heard o' the fause Sakelde? O have ye na heard o' the keen Lord Scroope? How they hae ta'en bauld Kinmont Willie, On Haribee to hang him up?

Had Willie had but twenty men, But twenty men as stout as he, Fause Sakelde had never the Kinmont ta'en, Wi' eight score in his companie.

They band his legs beneath the steed, They tied his hands behind his back; They guarded him, fivesome on each side, And they brought him ower the Liddel-rack.

They led him thro' the Liddel-rack, And also thro' the Carlisle sands; They brought him on to Carlisle castle, To be at my Lord Scroope's commands.

"My hands are tied, but my tongue is free, And wha will dare this deed avow? Or answer by the Border law? Or answer to the bauld Buccleuch?"

"Now haud thy tongue, thou rank reiver! There's never a Scot shall set thee free: Before ye cross my castle yate I trow ye shall take farewell o' me."

"Fear ye na that, my lord," quo' Willie: "By the faith o' my body, Lord Scroope," he said, "I never yet lodged in a hostelrie, But I paid my lawing before I gaed."

Now word is gane to the bauld keeper, In Branksome Ha', where that he lay, That Lord Scroope has ta'en the Kinmont Willie, Between the hours of night and day.

He has ta'en the table wi' his hand, He garr'd the red wine spring on hie, "Now a curse upon my head," he said, "But avengèd of Lord Scroope I'll be!

"O is my basnet a widow's curch? Or my lance a wand of the willow-tree? Or my arm a lady's lily hand, That an English lord should lightly me?

"And have they ta'en him, Kinmont Willie, Against the truce of Border tide, And forgotten that the bauld Buccleuch Is Keeper here on the Scottish side?

"And have they e'en ta'en him, Kinmont Willie, Withouten either dread or fear, And forgotten that the bauld Buccleuch Can back a steed, or shake a spear?

"O were there war between the lands, As well I wot that there is nane, I would slight Carlisle castle high, Though it were builded of marble stane.

"I would set that castle in a low, And sloken it with English blood! There's never a man in Cumberland Should ken where Carlisle castle stood.

"But since nae war's between the lands, And there is peace, and peace should be, I'll neither harm English lad or lass, And yet the Kinmont freed shall be!"

He has called him forty Marchmen bauld, I trow they were of his ain name, Except Sir Gilbert Elliot, called The Laird of Stobs, I mean the same.

He has called him forty Marchmen bauld, Were kinsmen to the bauld Buccleuch; With spur on heel, and splent on spauld, And gluves of green, and feathers blue.

There were five and five before them a', Wi' hunting horns and bugles bright: And five and five cam' wi' Buccleuch, Like warden's men, arrayed for fight.

And five and five, like masons gang, That carried the ladders lang and hie; And five and five like broken men; And so they reached the Woodhouselee.

And as we crossed the 'Bateable Land, When to the English side we held, The first o' men that we met wi', Wha sould it be but fause Sakelde?

"Where be ye gaun, ye hunters keen?" Quo' fause Sakelde; "come tell to me!" "We go to hunt an English stag, Has trespassed on the Scots countrie."

"Where be ye gaun, ye marshal men?" Quo' fause Sakelde; "come tell me true!" "We go to catch a rank reiver, Has broken faith wi' the bauld Buccleuch."

"Where are ye gaun, ye mason lads, Wi' a' your ladders lang and hie?" "We gang to herry a corbie's nest, That wons not far frae Woodhouselee."

"Where be ye gaun, ye broken men?" Quo' fause Sakelde; "come tell to me!" Now Dickie of Dryhope led that band, And the nevir a word of lear had he.

"Why trespass ye on the English side? Row-footed outlaws, stand!" quo' he; The nevir a word had Dickie to say, Sae he thrust the lance through his fause bodie.

Then on we held for Carlisle toun, And at Staneshaw-bank the Eden we crossed, The water was great and meikle of spait, But the never a horse nor man we lost.

And when we reached the Staneshaw-bank, The wind was rising loud and hie; And there the Laird garr'd leave our steeds, For fear that they should stamp and neigh.

And when we left the Staneshaw-bank, The wind began full loud to blaw; But 'twas wind and weet, and fire and sleet, When we cam' beneath the castle wa'.

We crept on knees, and held our breath, Till we placed the ladders agin the wa'; And sae ready was Buccleuch himsell To mount the first before us a'.

He has ta'en the watchman by the throat, He flung him down upon the lead: "Had there not been peace between our lands, Upon the other side thou hadst gaed!

"Now sound out, trumpets!" quo' Buccleuch; "Let's waken Lord Scroope right merrilie!" Then loud the warden's trumpet blew-- O wha, dare meddle wi' me?

Then speedilie to wark we gaed, And raised the slogan ane and a', And cut a hole through a sheet of lead, And so we wan to the castle ha'.

They thought King James and a' his men Had won the house wi' bow and spear; It was but twenty Scots and ten, That put a thousand in sic a stear!

Wi' coulters, and wi' forehammers, We garr'd the bars bang merrilie, Until we cam' to the inner prison, Where Willie o' Kinmont he did lie.

And when we cam' to the lower prison, Where Willie o' Kinmont he did lie,-- "O sleep ye, wake ye, Kinmont Willie, Upon the morn that thou's to die?"

"O I sleep saft, and I wake aft; It's lang since sleeping was fley'd frae me; Gie my service back to my wife and bairns, And a' gude fellows that spier for me."

Then Red Rowan has hente him up, The starkest man in Teviotdale,-- "Abide, abide now, Red Rowan, Till of my Lord Scroope I tak' farewell.

"Farewell, farewell, my gude Lord Scroope! My gude Lord Scroope, farewell!" he cried: "I'll pay you for my lodging maill, When first we meet on the Border side."

Then shoulder high, with shout and cry, We bore him doun the ladder lang; At every stride Red Rowan made, I wot the Kinmont's aims played clang

"O mony a time," quo' Kinmont Willie, "I have ridden horse baith wild and wood; But a rougher beast than Red Rowan I ween my legs have ne'er bestrode.

"And mony a time," quo' Kinmont Willie, I've pricked a horse out oure the furs; But since the day I backed a steed, I never wore sic cumbrous spurs."

We scarce had won the Staneshaw-bank, When a' the Carlisle bells were rung, And a thousand men on horse and foot Cam' wi' the keen Lord Scroope along.

Buccleuch has turned to Eden Water, Even where it flowed frae bank to brim, And he has plunged in wi' a' his band, And safely swam them through the stream.

He turned him on the other side, And at Lord Scroope his glove flung he: "If ye like na my visit in merry England, In fair Scotland come visit me!"

All sore astonished stood Lord Scroope, He stood as still as rock of stane; He scarcely dared to trew his eyes, When through the water they had gane.

"He is either himsell a devil frae hell, Or else his mither a witch maun be; I wadna hae ridden that wan water For a' the gowd in Christentie."

* * * * *

KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT OF CANTEBBURY.

An ancient story Ile tell you anon Of a notable prince, that was called King John; He ruled over England with maine and with might, For he did great wrong, and mainteined little right.

And Ile tell you a story, a story so merrye, Concerning the Abbot of Canterburye; How for his housekeeping and high renowne, They rode poste for him to fair London towne.

A hundred men, for the king did hear say, The abbot kept in his house every day; And fifty golde chaynes, without any doubt, In velvet coates waited the abbot about.

"How now, father abbot? I heare it of thee, Thou keepest a farre better house than mee; And for thy housekeeping and high renowne, I feare thou work'st treason against my crown."

"My liege," quo' the abbot, "I would it were knowne, I never spend nothing but what is my owne; And I trust your grace will doe me no deere, For spending of my owne true-gotten geere."

"Yes, yes, father abbot, thy faulte it is highe, And now for the same thou needest must dye; And except thou canst answer me questions three, Thy head shall be smitten from thy bodie.

"And first," quo' the king, "when I'm in this stead, With my crown of golde so faire on my head, Among all my liegemen so noble of birthe, Thou must tell to one penny what I am worthe.

"Secondlye, tell me, without any doubt, How soon I may ride the whole world about; And at the third question thou must not shrink, But tell me here truly, what I do think?"

"O, these are deep questions for my shallow witt, Nor I cannot answer your grace as yet: But if you will give me but three weekes space, I'll do my endeavor to answer your grace."

"Now three weekes space to thee will I give, And that is the longest thou hast to live; For unless thou answer my questions three, Thy life and thy lands are forfeit to mee."

Away rode the abbot all sad at this word; And he rode to Cambridge and Oxenford; But never a doctor there was so wise, That could with his learning an answer devise.

Then home rode the Abbot of comfort so cold, And he mett his shepheard a going to fold: "How now, my lord abbot, you are welcome home; What newes do you bring us from good king John?"

"Sad newes, sad newes, shepheard, I must give; That I have but three days more to live; For if I do not answer him questions three, My head will be smitten from my bodie.

"The first is to tell him, there in that stead, With his crowne of golde so fair on his head, Among all his liege men so noble of birth, To within one penny of what he is worth.

"The seconde, to tell him, without any doubt, How soone he may ride this whole world about; And at the third question I must not shrinke, But tell him there trulye what he does thinke."

"Now cheare up, sire abbot, did you never hear yet, That a fool he may learne a wise man witt? Lend me horse, and serving men, and your apparel, And Ile ride to London to answers your quarrel.

"Nay frowne not, if it hath bin told unto mee, I am like your lordship, as ever may bee; And if you will but lend me your gowne, There is none shall knowe us at fair London towne."

"Now horses and serving men thou shalt have, With sumptuous array most gallant and brave; With crosier, and miter, and rochet, and cope, Fit to appear 'fore our fader the pope."

"Now welcome, sire abbot," the king he did say, "'Tis well thou'rt come back to keepe thy day; For and if thou canst answer my questions three, Thy life and thy living both saved shall bee.

"And first, when thou seest me here in this stead, With my crown of golde so faire on my head, Among all my liege men so noble of birthe, Tell me to one penny what I am worth."

"For thirty pence our Savior was sold Amonge the false Jewes, as I have bin told; And twenty-nine is the worth of thee, For I thinke, thou art one penny worser than hee."

The king he laughed, and swore by St. Bittel, "I did not think I had been worth so littel! --Now secondly tell me, without any doubt, How soone I may ride this whole world about."

"You must rise with the sun, and ride with the same, Until the next morning he riseth againe; And then your grace need not make any doubt, But in twenty-four hours you'll ride it about."

The king lie laughed, and swore "by St. Jone, I did not think it could be gone so soone! --Now from the third question thou must not shrinke, But tell me here truly what I do thinke."

"Yea, that shall I do, and make your grace merry: You thinke I'm the abbot of Canterbury; But I'm his poor shepheard, as plain you may see, That am come to beg pardon for him and for mee."

The king he laughed, and swore "by the masse, Ile make thee lord abbot this day in his place!" "Now naye, my liege, be not in such speede; For alacke I can neither write ne reade."

"Four nobles a week, then, I will give thee, For this merry jest thou hast shown unto mee; And tell the old abbot, when thou comest home, Thou hast brought him a pardon from good king John."

* * * * *

ROBIN HOOD RESCUING THE WIDOW'S THREE SONS.

There are twelve months in all the year, As I hear many say, But the merriest month in all the year Is the merry month of May.

Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone, _With a link a down and a day,_ And there he met a silly old woman, Was weeping on the way.

"What news? what news, thou silly old woman? What news hast thou for me?" Said she, "There's my three sons in Nottingham town To-day condemned to die."

"O, have they parishes burnt?" he said, "Or have they ministers slain? Or have they robbed any virgin? Or other men's wives have ta'en?"

"They have no parishes burnt, good sir, Nor yet have ministers slain, Nor have they robbed any virgin, Nor other men's wives have ta'en."

"O, what have they done?" said Robin Hood, "I pray thee tell to me." "It's for slaying of the king's fallow-deer, Bearing their long bows with thee."

"Dost thou not mind, old woman," he said, "How thou madest me sup and dine? By the truth of my body," quoth bold Robin Hood, "You could not tell it in better time."

Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone, _With a link a down and a day_, And there he met with a silly old palmer, Was walking along the highway.

"What news? what news, thou silly old man? What news, I do thee pray?" Said he, "Three squires in Nottingham town Are condemned to die this day."

"Come change thy apparel with me, old man, Come change thy apparel for mine; Here is forty shillings in good silvèr, Go drink it in beer or wine."

"O, thine apparel is good," he said, "And mine is ragged and torn; Wherever you go, wherever you ride, Laugh ne'er an old man to scorn."

"Come change thy apparel with me, old churl, Come change thy apparel with mine; Here are twenty pieces of good broad gold, Go feast thy brethren with wine."

Then he put on the old man's hat, It stood full high on the crown: "The first bold bargain that I come at, It shall make thee come down."

Then he put on the old man's cloak, Was patched black, blew, and red; He thought it no shame all the day long, To wear the bags of bread.

Then he put on the old man's breeks, Was patched from leg to side: "By the truth of my body," bold Robin can say, "This man loved little pride."

Then he put on the old man's hose, Were patched from knee to wrist: "By the truth of my body," said bold Robin Hood, "I'd laugh if I had any list."

Then he put on the old man's shoes, Were patched both beneath and aboon; Then Robin Hood swore a solemn oath, "It's good habit that makes a man."

Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone, _With a link a down and a down,_ And there he met with the proud sheriff, Was walking along the town.

"O Christ you save, O sheriff!" he said; "O Christ you save and see! And what will you give to a silly old man To-day will your hangman be?"

"Some suits, some suits," the sheriff he said, "Some suits I'll give to thee; Some suits, some suits, and pence thirteen, To-day's a hangman's fee."

Then Robin he turns him round about, And jumps from stock to stone: "By the truth of my body," the sheriff he said, "That's well jumpt, thou nimble old man."

"I was ne'er a hangman in all my life, Nor yet intends to trade; But curst be he," said bold Robin, "That first a hangman was made!

"I've a bag for meal, and a bag for malt, And a bag for barley and corn; A bag for bread, and a bag for beef, And a bag for my little small horn.

"I have a horn in my pocket, I got it from Robin Hood, And still when I set it to my mouth, For thee it blows little good."

"O, wind thy horn, thou proud fellow, Of thee I have no doubt. I wish that thou give stich a blast, Till both thy eyes fall out."

The first loud blast that he did blow, He blew both loud and shrill; A hundred and fifty of Robin Hood's men Came riding over the hill.

The next loud blast that he did give, He blew both loud and amain, And quickly sixty of Robin Hood's men Came shining over the plain.

"O, who are these," the sheriff he said, "Come tripping over the lee?" "They're my attendants," brave Robin did say; "They'll pay a visit to thee."

They took the gallows from the slack, They set it in the glen, They hanged the proud sheriff on that, Released their own three men.

* * * * *

ROBIN HOOD AND ALLIN A DALE.

Come listen to me, you gallants so free, All you that love mirth for to hear, And I will tell you of a bold outlaw, That lived in Nottinghamshire.

As Robin Hood in the forest stood, All under the green-wood tree, There he was aware of a brave young man, As fine as fine might be.

The youngster was cloathed in scarlet red, In scarlet fine and gay; And he did frisk it over the plain, And chanted a roundelay.

As Robin Hood next morning stood, Amongst the leaves so gay, There did he espy the same young man Come drooping along the way.

The scarlet he wore the day before, It was clean cast away; And at every step he fetcht a sigh, "Alack and a well a day!"

Then stepped forth brave Little John, And Midge the miller's son, Which made the young man bend his bow, When as he see them come.

"Stand off, stand off," the young man said, "What is your will with me?" "You must come before our master straight, Under yon green-wood tree."

And when he came bold Robin before, Robin askt him courteously, "O hast thou any money to spare For my merry men and me?"

"I have no money," the young man said, "But five shillings and a ring; And that I have kept this seven long years, To have it at my wedding.

"Yesterday I should have married a maid, But she is now from me tane, And chosen to be an old knight's delight, Whereby my poor heart is slain."

"What is thy name?" then said Robin Hood, "Come tell me, without any fail:" "By the faith of my body," then said the young man, "My name it is Allin a Dale."

"What wilt thou give me," said Robin Hood, "In ready gold or fee, To help thee to thy true love again, And deliver her unto thee?"

"I have no money," then quoth the young man, "No ready gold nor fee, But I will swear upon a book Thy true servant for to be."

"How many miles is it to thy true love? Come tell me without any guile:" "By the faith of my body," then said the young man, "It is but five little mile."

Then Robin he hasted over the plain, He did neither stint nor lin, Until he came unto the church, Where Allin should keep his wedding.

"What hast thou here?" the bishop he said, "I prithee now tell unto me:" "I am a bold harper," quoth Robin Hood, "And the best in the north country."

"O welcome, O welcome," the bishop he said, "That musick best pleaseth me;" "You shall have no musick," quoth Robin Hood, "Till the bride and the bridegroom I see."

With that came in a wealthy knight, Which was both grave and old, And after him a finikin lass, Did shine like the glistering gold.

"This is not a fit match," quoth bold Robin Hood, "That you do seem to make here; For since we are come into the church, The bride shall chuse her own dear."

Then Robin Hood put his horn to his mouth, And blew blasts two or three; When four and twenty bowmen bold Came leaping over the lee.

And when they came into the church-yard, Marching all on a row, The first man was Allin a Dale, To give bold Robin his bow.

"This is thy true love," Robin he said, "Young Allin, as I hear say; And you shall be married at this same time, Before we depart away."

"That shall not be," the bishop he said, "For thy word shall not stand; They shall be three times askt in the church, As the law is of our land."

Robin Hood pulld off the bishop's coat, And put it upon Little John; "By the faith of my body," then Robin said, "This cloath does make thee a man."

When Little John went into the quire, The people began for to laugh; He askt them seven times in the church, Lest three times should not be enough.

"Who gives me this maid?" then said Little John; Quoth Robin Hood, "That do I, And he that takes her from Allin, a Dale Full dearly he shall her buy."

And thus having ende of this merry wedding, The bride lookt like a queen, And so they returned to the merry green-wood, Amongst the leaves so green.

* * * * *

ROBIN HOOD'S DEATH AND BURIAL.

When Robin Hood and Little John, _Down a down, a down, a down,_ Went o'er yon bank of broom, Said Robin Hood to Little John, "We have shot for many a pound:" _Hey down, a down, a down._

"But I am not able to shoot one shot more, My arrows will not flee; But I have a cousin lives down below, Please God, she will bleed me."

Now Robin is to fair Kirkley gone, As fast as he can win; But before he came there, as we do hear, He was taken very ill.

And when that he came to fair Kirkley-hall, He knocked all at the ring, But none was so ready as his cousin herself For to let bold Robin in.

"Will you please to sit down, cousin Robin," she said, "And drink some beer with me?" "No, I will neither eat nor drink, Till I am blooded by thee."

"Well, I have a room, cousin Robin," she said, "Which you did never see, And if you please to walk therein, You blooded by me shall be."

She took him by the lily-white hand, And led him to a private room, And there she blooded bold Robin Hood, Whilst one drop of blood would run.

She blooded him in the vein of the arm, And locked him up in the room; There did he bleed all the livelong day, Untilt the next day at noon.

He then bethought him of a casement door, Thinking for to be gone; He was so weak he could not leap, Nor he could not get down.

He then bethought him of his bugle-horn, Which hung low down to his knee; He set his horn unto his mouth, And blew out weak blasts three.

Then Little John, when hearing him, As he sat under the tree, "I fear my master is near dead, He blows so wearily."

Then Little John to fair Kirkley is gone, As fast as he can dri'e; But when he came to Kirkley-hall, He broke locks two or three:

Untilt he came bold Robin to, Then he fell on his knee: "A boon, a boon," cries Little John, "Master, I beg of thee."

"What is that boon," quoth Robin Hood, "Little John, thou begs of me?" "It is to burn fair Kirkley-hall, And all their nunnery."

"Now nay, now nay," quoth Robin Hood, "That boon I'll not grant thee; I never hurt woman in all my life, Nor man in woman's company.

"I never hurt fair maid in all my time, Nor at my end shall it be; But give me my bent bow in my hand, And a broad arrow I'll let flee; And where this arrow is taken up, There shall my grave digg'd be.

"Lay me a green sod under my head, And another at my feet; And lay my bent bow by my side, Which was my music sweet; And make my grave of gravel and green, Which is most right and meet.

"Let me have length and breadth enough, With under my head a green sod; That they may say, when I am dead, Here lies bold Robin Hood."

These words they readily promised him, Which did bold Robin please; And there they buried bold Robin Hood, Near to the fair Kirkleys.

* * * * *

ROMANTIC AND DOMESTIC BALLADS.

ANNIE OF LOCHROYAN.

"O wha will shoe my bonny feet? Or wha will glove my hand? Or wha will lace my middle jimp, Wi' a new-made London band?

"And wha will kame my yellow hair, Wi' a new-made siller kame? And wha will be my bairn's father, Till love Gregory come haine?"

"Your father'll shoe your bonny feet, Your mother glove your hand; Your sister lace your middle jimp, Wi' a new-made London band;