Chapter 2

6. She show’d me a cup o’ the good red gold, Well set wi’ jewls sae fair to see; Says, ‘Gin you will be my lemman sae true, This goodly gift I will you gi’.’

7. ‘Awa’, awa’, ye ugly witch, Had far awa’, and lat me be! For I woudna ance kiss your ugly mouth For a’ the gifts that you coud gi’.’

8. She’s turn’d her right and roun’ about, An’ thrice she blaw on a grass-green horn; An’ she sware by the meen and the stars abeen, That she’d gar me rue the day I was born.

9. Then out has she ta’en a silver wand, An’ she’s turn’d her three times roun’ and roun’; She’s mutter’d sich words till my strength it fail’d, An’ I fell down senceless upon the groun’.

10. She’s turn’d me into an ugly worm, And gard me toddle about the tree; An’ ay, on ilka Saturday’s night, My sister Maisry came to me;

11. Wi’ silver bason and silver kemb, To kemb my heady upon her knee; But or I had kiss’d her ugly mouth, I’d rather ’a’ toddled about the tree.

12. But as it fell out on last Hallow-even, When the seely court was ridin’ by, The queen lighted down on a gowany bank, Nae far frae the tree where I wont to lye.

13. She took me up in her milk-white han’, An’ she’s stroak’d me three times o’er her knee; She chang’d me again to my ain proper shape, And I nae mair maun toddle about the tree.

[Annotations: 5.1: ‘sark,’ shirt. 12.2: ‘the seely court,’ _i.e._ the fairies’ court. 12.3: ‘gowany,’ daisied.]

THE LAILY WORM AND THE MACHREL OF THE SEA

+The Text+ of this mutilated ballad is taken from the Skene MS., where it was written down from recitation in the North of Scotland about 1802.

+The Story+ is of a double transformation of a sister and brother by a stepmother. Compare the story of _The Marriage of Sir Gawaine_ (First Series, p. 108). _Allison Gross_ should be compared closely with this ballad. The combing of hair seems to be a favourite method of expressing affection, not only in these ballads, but also in Scandinavian folklore. It is needless to take exception to the attribution either of hair to a worm, or of knees to a machrel: though we may note that in one version of _Dives and Lazarus_ Dives ‘has a place prepared in hell to sit on a serpent’s knee.’ However, it is probable that a part of the ballad, now lost, stated that the machrel (whatever it may be) reassumed human shape ‘every Saturday at noon.’

THE LAILY WORM AND THE MACHREL OF THE SEA

1. ‘I was but seven year auld When my mither she did die; My father married the ae warst woman The warld did ever see.

2. ‘For she has made me the laily worm, That lies at the fit o’ the tree, An’ my sister Masery she’s made The machrel of the sea.

3. ‘An’ every Saturday at noon The machrel comes to me, An’ she takes my laily head An’ lays it on her knee, She kaims it wi’ a siller kaim, An’ washes ’t in the sea.

4. ‘Seven knights hae I slain, Sin I lay at the fit of the tree, An’ ye war na my ain father, The eight ane ye should be.’

5. ‘Sing on your song, ye laily worm, That ye did sing to me:’ ‘I never sung that song but what I would sing it to thee.

6. ‘I was but seven year auld, When my mither she did die; My father married the ae warst woman The warld did ever see.

7. ‘For she changed me to the laily worm, That lies at the fit o’ the tree, And my sister Masery To the machrel of the sea.

8. ‘And every Saturday at noon The machrel comes to me, An’ she takes my laily head An’ lays it on her knee, An’ kames it wi’ a siller kame, An’ washes it i’ the sea.

9. ‘Seven knights hae I slain Sin I lay at the fit o’ the tree; An’ ye war na my ain father, The eighth ane ye shoud be.’

10. He sent for his lady, As fast as send could he: ‘Whar is my son that ye sent frae me, And my daughter, Lady Masery?’

11. ‘Your son is at our king’s court, Serving for meat an’ fee, An’ your daughter’s at our queen’s court, ... ... ...’

12. ‘Ye lie, ye ill woman, Sae loud as I hear ye lie; My son’s the laily worm, That lies at the fit o’ the tree, And my daughter, Lady Masery, Is the machrel of the sea!’

13. She has tane a siller wan’, An’ gi’en him strokes three, And he has started up the bravest knight That ever your eyes did see.

14. She has ta’en a small horn, An’ loud an’ shrill blew she, An’ a’ the fish came her untill But the proud machrel of the sea: ‘Ye shapeit me ance an unseemly shape, An’ ye’s never mare shape me.’

15. He has sent to the wood For whins and for hawthorn, An’ he has ta’en that gay lady, An’ there he did her burn.

[Annotation: 2.1 etc.: ‘laily’ = laidly, loathly.]

KEMP OWYNE

+The Text+ is that given (nearly _literatim_) by Buchan and Motherwell, and also in the MSS. of the latter.

+The Story.+--This adventure of Owyne (Owain, ‘the King’s son Urien,’ Ywaine, etc.), with the subsequent transformation, has a parallel in an Icelandic saga. Rehabilitation in human shape by means of a kiss is a common tale in the Scandinavian area; occasionally three kisses are necessary.

A similar ballad, now lost, but re-written by the contributor, from scraps of recitation by an old woman in Berwickshire, localises the story of the fire-drake (‘the laidly worm’) near Bamborough in Northumberland; and Kinloch said that the term ‘Childe o’ Wane’ was still applied by disconsolate damsels of Bamborough to any youth who champions them. However, Mr. R. W. Clark of Bamborough, who has kindly made inquiries for me, could find no survival of this use.

The ballad is also called ‘Kempion.’

KEMP OWYNE

1. Her mother died when she was young, Which gave her cause to make great moan; Her father married the warst woman That ever lived in Christendom.

2. She served her with foot and hand, In every thing that she could dee, Till once, in an unlucky time, She threw her in ower Craigy’s sea.

3. Says, ‘Lie you there, dove Isabel, And all my sorrows lie with thee; Till Kemp Owyne come ower the sea, And borrow you with kisses three, Let all the warld do what they will, Oh borrowed shall you never be!’

4. Her breath grew strang, her hair grew lang, And twisted thrice about the tree, And all the people, far and near, Thought that a savage beast was she.

5. These news did come to Kemp Owyne, Where he lived, far beyond the sea; He hasted him to Craigy’s sea, And on the savage beast look’d he.

6. Her breath was strang, her hair was lang, And twisted was about the tree, And with a swing she came about: ‘Come to Craigy’s sea, and kiss with me.

7. ‘Here is a royal belt,’ she cried, ‘That I have found in the green sea; And while your body it is on, Drawn shall your blood never be; But if you touch me, tail or fin, I vow my belt your death shall be.’

8. He stepped in, gave her a kiss, The royal belt he brought him wi’; Her breath was strang, her hair was lang, And twisted twice about the tree, And with a swing she came about: ‘Come to Craigy’s sea, and kiss with me.

9. ‘Here is a royal ring,’ she said, ‘That I have found in the green sea; And while your finger it is on, Drawn shall your blood never be; But if you touch me, tail or fin, I swear my ring your death shall be.’

10. He stepped in, gave her a kiss, The royal ring he brought him wi’; Her breath was strang, her hair was lang, And twisted ance about the tree, And with a swing she came about: ‘Come to Craigy’s sea, and kiss with me.

11. ‘Here is a royal brand,’ she said, ‘That I have found in the green sea; And while your body it is on, Drawn shall your blood never be; But if you touch me, tail or fin, I swear my brand your death shall be.’

12. He stepped in, gave her a kiss, The royal brand he brought him wi’; Her breath was sweet, her hair grew short, And twisted nane about the tree, And smilingly she came about, As fair a woman as fair could be.

[Annotations: 3.3: ‘Kemp’ = champion, knight. Cp. ‘Childe’ in _Childe Maurice_, etc. 3.4: ‘borrow,’ ransom.]

WILLIE’S LADY

+The Text+ is from the lost Fraser-Tytler-Brown MS., this ballad luckily having been transcribed before the MS. disappeared. Mrs. Brown recited another and a fuller version to Jamieson.

+The Story.+--Willie’s mother, a witch, displeased at her son’s choice, maliciously arrests by witchcraft the birth of Willie’s son. Willie’s travailing wife sends him again and again to bribe the witch, who refuses cup, steed, and girdle. Here our version makes such abrupt transitions, that it will be well to explain what takes place. The Belly Blind or Billie Blin (see _Young Bekie_, First Series, pp. 6, 7) advises Willie to make a sham baby of wax, and invite his witch-mother to the christening. Willie does so (in stanzas lost between our 33 and 34); the witch, believing the wax-baby to be flesh and blood, betrays all her craft by asking who has loosed the knots, ta’en out the kaims, ta’en down the woodbine, etc., these being the magic rites by which she has suspended birth. Willie instantly looses the knots and takes out the kaims, and his wife presents him with a bonny young son.

The story is common in Danish ballads, and occasional in Swedish. In the classics, Juno (Hera) on two occasions delayed childbirth and cheated Ilithyia, the sufferers being Latona and Alcmene. But the latest version of the story is said to have occurred in Arran in the nineteenth century. A young man, forsaking his sweetheart, married another maiden, who when her time came suffered exceedingly. A packman who chanced to be passing heard the tale and suspected the cause. Going to the discarded sweetheart, he told her that her rival had given birth to a fine child; thereupon she sprang up, pulled a large nail out of the beam, and called to her mother, ‘Muckle good your craft has done!’ The labouring wife was delivered forthwith. (See _The Folklore Record_, vol. ii. p. 117.)

WILLIE’S LADY

1. Willie has taen him o’er the fame, He’s woo’d a wife and brought her hame.

2. He’s woo’d her for her yellow hair, But his mother wrought her mickle care,

3. And mickle dolour gard her dree, For lighter she can never be.

4. But in her bower she sits wi’ pain, And Willie mourns o’er her in vain.

5. And to his mother he has gone, That vile rank witch of vilest kind.

6. He says: ‘My ladie has a cup Wi’ gowd and silver set about.

7. ‘This goodlie gift shall be your ain, And let her be lighter o’ her young bairn.’

8. ‘Of her young bairn she’ll ne’er be lighter, Nor in her bower to shine the brighter.

9. ‘But she shall die and turn to clay, And you shall wed another may.’

10. ‘Another may I’ll never wed, Another may I’ll ne’er bring home.’

11. But sighing says that weary wight, ‘I wish my life were at an end.’

12. ‘Ye doe [ye] unto your mother again, That vile rank witch of vilest kind.

13. ‘And say your ladie has a steed, The like o’ ’m’s no in the lands of Leed.

14. ‘For he’s golden shod before, And he’s golden shod behind.

15. ‘And at ilka tet of that horse’s main There’s a golden chess and a bell ringing.

16. ‘This goodlie gift shall be your ain, And let me be lighter of my young bairn.’

17. ‘O’ her young bairn she’ll ne’er be lighter, Nor in her bower to shine the brighter.

18. ‘But she shall die and turn to clay, And ye shall wed another may.’

19. ‘Another may I’ll never wed, Another may I’ll neer bring hame.’

20. But sighing said that weary wight, ‘I wish my life were at an end.’

21. ‘Ye doe [ye] unto your mother again, That vile rank witch of vilest kind.

22. ‘And say your ladie has a girdle, It’s red gowd unto the middle.

23. ‘And ay at every silver hem Hangs fifty silver bells and ten.

24. ‘That goodlie gift sall be her ain, And let me be lighter of my young bairn.’

25. ‘O’ her young bairn she’s ne’er be lighter, Nor in her bower to shine the brighter.

26. ‘But she shall die and turn to clay, And you shall wed another may.’

27. ‘Another may I’ll never wed, Another may I’ll ne’er bring hame.’

28. But sighing says that weary wight, ‘I wish my life were at an end.’

29. Then out and spake the Belly Blind; He spake aye in good time.

30. ‘Ye doe ye to the market place, And there ye buy a loaf o’ wax.

31. ‘Ye shape it bairn and bairnly like, And in twa glassen een ye pit;

32. ‘And bid her come to your boy’s christening; Then notice weel what she shall do.

33. ‘And do you stand a little forebye, And listen weel what she shall say.’

*** *** ***

34. ‘O wha has loosed the nine witch knots That was amo’ that ladie’s locks?

35. ‘And wha has taen out the kaims of care That hangs amo’ that ladie’s hair?

36. ‘And wha’s taen down the bush o’ woodbine That hang atween her bower and mine?

37. ‘And wha has kill’d the master kid That ran beneath that ladie’s bed?

38. ‘And wha has loosed her left-foot shee, And lotten that lady lighter be?’

39. O Willie has loosed the nine witch knots That was amo’ that ladie’s locks.

40. And Willie’s taen out the kaims o’ care That hang amo’ that ladie’s hair.

41. And Willie’s taen down the bush o’ woodbine That hang atween her bower and thine.

42. And Willie has killed the master kid That ran beneath that ladie’s bed.

43. And Willie has loosed her left-foot shee, And letten his ladie lighter be.

44. And now he’s gotten a bonny young son, And mickle grace be him upon.

[Annotations: 19: ‘I’ll’ is ‘I’ in both lines in the MS. 24.1: ‘sall’ is Scott’s emendation for _has_ in the MS.]

THE WEE WEE MAN

+The Text+ is that of Herd’s MS. and his _Scots Songs_. Other versions vary very slightly, and this is the oldest of them.

There is a fourteenth-century MS. (in the Cotton collection) containing a poem not unlike _The Wee Wee Man_; but there is no justification in deriving the ballad from the poem, which may be found in Ritson’s _Ancient Songs_ (1829), i. p. 40.

Scott incorporates the story with _The Young Tamlane_.

THE WEE WEE MAN

1. As I was wa’king all alone, Between a water and a wa’, And there I spy’d a wee wee man, And he was the least that ere I saw.

2. His legs were scarce a shathmont’s length, And thick and thimber was his thigh; Between his brows there was a span, And between his shoulders there was three.

3. He took up a meikle stane, And he flang ’t as far as I could see; Though I had been a Wallace wight, I couldna liften’t to my knee.

4. ‘O wee wee man, but thou be strang! O tell me where thy dwelling be?’ ‘My dwelling’s down at yon bonny bower; O will you go with me and see?’

5. On we lap, and awa’ we rade, Till we came to yon bonny green; We lighted down for to bait our horse, And out there came a lady fine.

6. Four and twenty at her back, And they were a’ clad out in green; Though the King of Scotland had been there, The warst o’ them might hae been his queen.

7. On we lap, and awa’ we rade, Till we came to yon bonny ha’, Whare the roof was o’ the beaten gould, And the floor was o’ the cristal a’.

8. When we came to the stair-foot, Ladies were dancing, jimp and sma’, But in the twinkling of an eye, My wee wee man was clean awa’.

[Annotations: 1.4: ‘ere,’ _i.e._ e’er. 2.1: ‘shathmont,’ a span. 2.2: ‘thimber,’ gross.]

COSPATRICK

+The Text+ is that of Scott’s _Minstrelsy_ (1802). It was ‘taken down from the recitation of a lady’ (his mother’s sister, Miss Christian Rutherford), and collated with a copy in the Tytler-Brown MS. The ballad is also called _Gil Brenton_, _Lord Dingwall_, _Bangwell_, _Bengwill_, or _Brangwill_, _Bothwell_, etc.

+The Story+ is a great favourite, not only in Scandinavian ballads, but also in all northern literature. The magical agency of bed, blankets, sheets, and sword, is elsewhere extended to a chair, a stepping-stone by the bedside (see the _Boy and the Mantle_, First Series, p. 119), or the Billie Blin (see _Young Bekie_, First Series, pp. 6, 7, and _Willie’s Lady_, p. 19). The Norwegian tale of Aase and the Prince is known to English readers in Dasent’s _Annie the Goosegirl_. The Prince is possessed of a stepping-stone by his bedside, which answers his question night and morning, and enables him to detect the supposititious bride. See also Jamieson’s translation of _Ingefred and Gudrunè_, in _Illustrations of Northern Antiquities_, p. 340.

COSPATRICK

1. Cospatrick has sent o’er the faem, Cospatrick brought his ladye hame.

2. And fourscore ships have come her wi’, The ladye by the grenewood tree.

3. There were twal’ and twal’ wi’ baken bread, And twal’ and twal’ wi’ gowd sae reid:

4. And twal’ and twal’ wi’ bouted flour, And twal’ and twal’ wi’ the paramour.

5. Sweet Willy was a widow’s son, And at her stirrup he did run.

6. And she was clad in the finest pall, But aye she let the tears down fall.

7. ‘O is your saddle set awrye? Or rides your steed for you owre high?

8. ‘Or are you mourning in your tide That you suld be Cospatrick’s bride?’

9. ‘I am not mourning at this tide That I suld be Cospatrick’s bride;

10. ‘But I am sorrowing in my mood That I suld leave my mother good.

11. ‘But, gentle boy, come tell to me, What is the custom of thy countrye?’

12. ‘The custom thereof, my dame,’ he says, ‘Will ill a gentle laydye please.

13. ‘Seven king’s daughters has our lord wedded, And seven king’s daughters has our lord bedded;

14. ‘But he’s cutted their breasts frae their breast-bane, And sent them mourning hame again.

15. ‘Yet, gin you’re sure that you’re a maid, Ye may gae safely to his bed;

16. ‘But gif o’ that ye be na sure, Then hire some damsell o’ your bour.’

17. The ladye’s call’d her bour-maiden, That waiting was into her train.

18. ‘Five thousand merks I will gie thee, To sleep this night with my lord for me.’

19. When bells were rung, and mass was sayne, And a’ men unto bed were gane,

20. Cospatrick and the bonny maid, Into ae chamber they were laid.

21. ‘Now speak to me, blankets, and speak to me, bed, And speak, thou sheet, inchanted web;

22. ‘And speak up, my bonny brown sword, that winna lie, Is this a true maiden that lies by me?’

23. ‘It is not a maid that you hae wedded, But it is a maid that you hae bedded;

24. ‘It is a liel maiden that lies by thee, But not the maiden that it should be.’

25. O wrathfully he left the bed, And wrathfully his claiths on did;

26. And he has taen him thro’ the ha’, And on his mother he did ca’.

27. ‘I am the most unhappy man, That ever was in Christen land!

28. ‘I courted a maiden, meik and mild, And I hae gotten naething but a woman wi’ child.’

29. ‘O stay, my son, into this ha’, And sport ye wi’ your merrymen a’;

30. ‘And I will to the secret bour, To see how it fares wi’ your paramour.’

31. The carline she was stark and sture, She aff the hinges dang the dure.

32. ‘O is your bairn to laird or loun? Or is it to your father’s groom?’

33. ‘O hear me, mother, on my knee, Till my sad story I tell to thee:

34. ‘O we were sisters, sisters seven, We were the fairest under heaven.

35. ‘It fell on a summer’s afternoon, When a’ our toilsome task was done,

36. ‘We cast the kavils us amang, To see which suld to the grene-wood gang.

37. ‘Ohon! alas, for I was youngest, And aye my wierd it was the hardest!

38. ‘The kavil it on me did fa’, Whilk was the cause of a’ my woe.

39. ‘For to the grene-wood I maun gae, To pu’ the red rose and the slae;

40. ‘To pu’ the red rose and the thyme, To deck my mother’s bour and mine.

41. ‘I hadna pu’d a flower but ane, When by there came a gallant hende,

42. ‘Wi’ high-coll’d hose and laigh-coll’d shoon, And he seem’d to be some king’s son.

43. ‘And be I maid, or be I nae, He kept me there till the close o’ day.

44. ‘And be I maid, or be I nane, He kept me there till the day was done.

45. ‘He gae me a lock o’ his yellow hair, And bade me keep it ever mair.

46. ‘He gae me a carknet o’ bonny beads, And bade me keep it against my needs.

47. ‘He gae to me a gay gold ring, And bade me keep it abune a’ thing.’

48. ‘What did ye wi’ the tokens rare That ye gat frae that gallant there?’

49. ‘O bring that coffer unto me, And a’ the tokens ye sall see.’

50. ‘Now stay, daughter, your bour within, While I gae parley wi’ my son.’

51. O she has taen her thro’ the ha’, And on her son began to ca’:

52. ‘What did you wi’ the bonny beads, I bade ye keep against your needs?

53. ‘What did you wi’ the gay gold ring, I bade you keep abune a’ thing?’

54. ‘I gae them to a ladye gay, I met in grene-wood on a day.

55. ‘But I wad gie a’ my halls and tours, I had that ladye within my bours;

56. ‘But I wad gie my very life, I had that ladye to my wife.’

57. ‘Now keep, my son, your ha’s and tours; Ye have that bright burd in your bours;

58. ‘And keep, my son, your very life; Ye have that ladye to your wife.’

59. Now, or a month was come and gane, The ladye bore a bonny son;

60. And ’twas weel written on his breast-bane, ‘Cospatrick is my father’s name.’

61. ‘O rowe my ladye in satin and silk, And wash my son in the morning milk.’

[Annotations: 18.1: A mark was two-thirds of a pound. 31.1: ‘stark and sture,’ sturdy and strong. 36.1: ‘kavils’ = kevels, lots. 37.2: ‘wierd,’ fate. 41.2: ‘hende’ (? = heynde, person). 42.1: ‘high-coll’d ... laigh-coll’d,’ high-cut ... low-cut. 46.1: ‘carknet,’ necklace. 57.2: ‘burd,’ maiden. 61.1: ‘rowe,’ roll, wrap.]

YOUNG AKIN

+The Text+ is taken from Buchan’s _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, and, like nearly all Buchan’s versions, exhibits traces of vulgar remoulding. This ballad in particular has lost much of the original features. Kinloch called his version _Hynde Etin_, Allingham his compilation _Etin the Forester_.

+The Story+ is given in a far finer style in romantic Scandinavian ballads. Prior translated two of them, _The Maid and the Dwarf-King_, and _Agnes and the Merman_, both Danish. The Norse ballads on this subject, which may still be heard sung, are exceptionally beautiful. Child says, ‘They should make an Englishman’s heart wring for his loss.’

In the present version we may with some confidence attribute to Buchan the stanzas from 48 to the end, as well as 15 and 16. The preference is given to Buchan’s text merely because it retains features lost in Kinloch’s version.

YOUNG AKIN

1. Lady Margaret sits in her bower door, Sewing at her silken seam; She heard a note in Elmond’s wood, And wish’d she there had been.

2. She loot the seam fa’ frae her side, And the needle to her tae, And she is on to Elmond-wood As fast as she coud gae.

3. She hadna pu’d a nut, a nut, Nor broken a branch but ane, Till by it came a young hind chiel, Says, ‘Lady, lat alane.

4. ‘O why pu’ ye the nut, the nut, Or why brake ye the tree? For I am forester o’ this wood: Ye shoud spier leave at me.’

5. ‘I’ll ask leave at no living man, Nor yet will I at thee; My father is king o’er a’ this realm, This wood belongs to me.’

6. She hadna pu’d a nut, a nut, Nor broken a branch but three, Till by it came him Young Akin, And gard her lat them be.

7. The highest tree in Elmond’s wood, He’s pu’d it by the reet, And he has built for her a bower, Near by a hallow seat.