Part 5

15. Then out the knight has drawn his sword, An' straiked it o'er a strae, An' thro' and thro' the fa'se knight's waste He gard cauld iron gae: An' I hope ilk ane sal sae be serv'd That treats ane honest man sae.

[Annotations: 2.4: 'blate,' astonished, abashed. 7.1: 'clecked,' hatched. 8.1: 'A Farrow Cow is a Cow that gives Milk in the second year after her Calving, having no Calf that year.'--Holme's _Armoury_, 1688. 8.3: 'wanny,' wand, rod: 'simmer-dale,' apparently = summer-dale. 8.4: 'sindle,' seldom. 10.5: 'crap,' top. 10.6: 'dight,' freely, readily. 15.1-4: Cp. _Clerk Sanders_, 15.]

FAIR ANNIE

+The Text+ is that of Scott's _Minstrelsy_, 'chiefly from the recitation of an old woman.' Scott names the ballad 'Lord Thomas and Fair Annie,' adding to the confusion already existing with 'Lord Thomas and Fair Annet.'

+The Story.+--Fair Annie, stolen from the home of her father, the Earl of Wemyss, by 'a knight out o'er the sea,' has borne seven sons to him. He now bids her prepare to welcome home his real bride, and she meekly obeys, suppressing her tears with difficulty. Lord Thomas and his new-come bride hear, through the wall of their bridal chamber, Annie bewailing her lot, and wishing her seven sons had never been born. The bride goes to comfort her, discovers in her a long-lost sister, and departs, thanking heaven she goes a maiden home.

Of this ballad, Herd printed a fragment in 1769, some stanzas being incorporated in the present version. Similar tales abound in the folklore of Scandinavia, Holland, and Germany. But, three hundred years older than any version of the ballad, is the lay of Marie de France, _Le Lai de Freisne_; which, nevertheless, is only another offshoot of some undiscovered common origin.

It is imperative (in 4.4) that Annie should _braid_ her hair, as a sign of virginity: married women only bound up their hair, or wore it under a cap.

FAIR ANNIE

1. 'It's narrow, narrow, make your bed, And learn to lie your lane; For I'm ga'n o'er the sea, Fair Annie, A braw bride to bring hame. Wi' her I will get gowd and gear; Wi' you I ne'er got nane.

2. '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?'

3. '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.'

4. 'But she that welcomes my brisk bride Maun gang like maiden fair; She maun lace on her robe sae jimp, And braid her yellow hair.'

5. 'But how can I gang maiden-like, When maiden I am nane? Have I not born seven sons to thee, And am with child again?'

6. She's taen her young son in her arms, Another in her hand, And she's up to the highest tower, To see him come to land.

7. '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.'

8. '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'.'

9. And she gaed down, and farther down, Her love's ship for to see, And the topmast and the mainmast Shone like the silver free.

10. And she's gane down, and farther down, The bride's ship to behold, And the topmast and the mainmast They shone just like the gold.

11. She's taen her seven sons in her hand, I wot she didna fail; She met Lord Thomas and his bride, As they came o'er the dale.

12. '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.

13. 'You're welcome to your ha's, ladye, You're welcome to your bowers; You're welcome to your hame, ladye, For a' that's here is yours.'

14. 'I thank thee, Annie, I thank thee, Annie, Sae dearly as I thank thee; You're the likest to my sister Annie, That ever I did see.

15. 'There came a knight out o'er the sea, And steal'd my sister away; The shame scoup in his company, And land where'er he gae!'

16. She hang ae napkin at the door, Another in the ha', And a' to wipe the trickling tears, Sae fast as they did fa'.

17. And aye she served the long tables, With white bread and with wine; And aye she drank the wan water, To had her colour fine.

18. And aye she served the lang tables, With white bread and with brown; And ay she turned her round about Sae fast the tears fell down.

19. And he's taen down the silk napkin, Hung on a silver pin, And aye he wipes the tear trickling A' down her cheek and chin.

20. And aye he turned him round about, And smil'd amang his men; Says, 'Like ye best the old ladye, Or her that's new come hame?'

21. When bells were rung, and mass was sung, And a' men bound to bed, Lord Thomas and his new-come bride To their chamber they were gaed.

22. 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!

23. 'Gin my seven sons were seven young rats Running on the castle wa', And I were a gray cat mysell, I soon would worry them a'.

24. 'Gin my seven sons were seven young hares, Running o'er yon lilly lee, And I were a grew hound mysell, Soon worried they a' should be.'

25. And wae and sad Fair Annie sat, And drearie was her sang, And ever, as she sobb'd and grat, 'Wae to the man that did the wrang!'

26. 'My gown is on,' said the new-come bride, 'My shoes are on my feet, And I will to Fair Annie's chamber, And see what gars her greet.

27. '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?

28. 'O wha was't was your father, Annie, Or wha was't was your mother? And had ye ony sister, Annie, Or had ye ony brother?'

29. 'The Earl of Wemyss was my father, The Countess of Wemyss my mother; And a' the folk about the house To me were sister and brother.'

30. 'If the Earl of Wemyss was your father, I wot sae he was mine; And it shall not be for lack o' gowd That ye your love sall tyne.

31. 'For I have seven ships o' mine ain, A' loaded to the brim, And I will gie them a' to thee, Wi' four to thine eldest son: But thanks to a' the powers in heaven That I gae maiden hame!'

[Annotations: 15.3: 'scoup,' fly, hasten. 17.4: 'had' = haud, hold. 22.1: 'forbye,' apart. 24.2: 'lilly lee,' lovely lea. 30.4: 'tyne,' lose.]

THE CRUEL MOTHER

+The Text+ is given from Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, earlier versions being only fragmentary.

+The Story+ has a close parallel in a Danish ballad; and another, popular all over Germany, is a variation of the same theme, but in place of the mother's final doom being merely mentioned, in the German ballad she is actually carried away by the devil.

In a small group of ballads, the penknife appears to be the ideal weapon for murder or suicide. See the _Twa Brothers_ and the _Bonny Hind_.

THE CRUEL MOTHER

1. She leaned her back unto a thorn; _Three, three, and three by three_ And there she has her two babes born. _Three, three, and thirty-three_.

2. She took frae 'bout her ribbon-belt, And there she bound them hand and foot.

3. She has ta'en out her wee pen-knife, And there she ended baith their life.

4. She has howked a hole baith deep and wide, She has put them in baith side by side.

5. She has covered them o'er wi' a marble stane, Thinking she would gang maiden hame.

6. As she was walking by her father's castle wa', She saw twa pretty babes playing at the ba'.

7. 'O bonnie babes, gin ye were mine, I would dress you up in satin fine.

8. 'O I would dress you in the silk, And wash you ay in morning milk.'

9. 'O cruel mother, we were thine, And thou made us to wear the twine.

10. 'O cursed mother, heaven's high, And that's where thou will ne'er win nigh.

11. 'O cursed mother, hell is deep, And there thou'll enter step by step.'

[Annotations: 9.2: 'twine,' coarse cloth; _i.e._ shroud.]

CHILD WATERS

+The Text+ is here given from the Percy Folio, with some emendations as suggested by Child.

+The Story+, if we omit the hard tests imposed on the maid's affection, is widely popular in a series of Scandinavian ballads,--Danish, Swedish, and Norwegian; and Percy's edition (in the _Reliques_) was popularised in Germany by Buerger's translation.

The disagreeable nature of the final insult (stt. 27-29), retained here only for the sake of fidelity to the original text, may be paralleled by the similarly sudden lapse of taste in the _Nut-Brown Maid_. We can but hope--as indeed is probable--that the objectionable lines are in each case interpolated.

'Child,' as in 'Child Roland,' etc., is a title of courtesy = Knight.

CHILD WATERS

1. Childe Watters in his stable stoode, & stroaket his milke-white steede; To him came a ffaire young ladye As ere did weare womans weede.

2. Saies, 'Christ you saue, good Chyld Waters!' Sayes, 'Christ you saue and see! My girdle of gold which was too longe Is now to short ffor mee.

3. '& all is with one chyld of yours, I ffeele sturre att my side: My gowne of greene, it is to strayght; Before it was to wide.'

4. 'If the child be mine, faire Ellen,' he sayd, 'Be mine, as you tell mee, Take you Cheshire & Lancashire both, Take them your owne to bee.

5. 'If the child be mine, ffaire Ellen,' he said, 'Be mine, as you doe sweare, Take you Cheshire & Lancashire both, & make that child your heyre.'

6. Shee saies, 'I had rather haue one kisse, Child Waters, of thy mouth, Then I would have Cheshire & Lancashire both, That lyes by north & south.

7. '& I had rather haue a twinkling, Child Waters, of your eye, Then I would have Cheshire & Lancashire both, To take them mine oune to bee!'

8. 'To-morrow, Ellen, I must forth ryde Soe ffar into the north countrye; The ffairest lady that I can ffind, Ellen, must goe with mee.' '& euer I pray you, Child Watters, Your ffootpage let me bee!'

9. 'If you will my ffootpage be, Ellen, As you doe tell itt mee, Then you must cut your gownne of greene An inch aboue your knee.

10. 'Soe must you doe your yellow lockes Another inch aboue your eye; You must tell no man what is my name; My ffootpage then you shall bee.'

11. All this long day Child Waters rode, Shee ran bare ffoote by his side; Yett was he neuer soe curteous a knight, To say, 'Ellen, will you ryde?'

12. But all this day Child Waters rode, She ran barffoote thorow the broome! Yett he was neuer soe curteous a knight As to say, 'Put on your shoone.'

13. 'Ride softlye,' shee said, 'Child Watters: Why do you ryde soe ffast? The child, which is no mans but yours, My bodye itt will burst.'

14. He sayes, 'Sees thou yonder water, Ellen, That fflowes from banke to brim?' 'I trust to God, Child Waters,' shee sayd, 'You will neuer see mee swime.'

15. But when shee came to the waters side, Shee sayled to the chinne: 'Except the lord of heauen be my speed, Now must I learne to swime.'

16. The salt waters bare vp Ellens clothes, Our Ladye bare vpp her chinne, & Child Waters was a woe man, good Lord, To ssee faire Ellen swime.

17. & when shee ouer the water was, Shee then came to his knee: He said, 'Come hither, ffaire Ellen, Loe yonder what I see!

18. 'Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen? Of redd gold shine the yates; There's four and twenty ffayre ladyes, The ffairest is my wordlye make.

19. 'Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen? Of redd gold shineth the tower; There is four and twenty ffaire ladyes, The fairest is my paramoure.'

20. 'I doe see the hall now, Child Waters, That of redd gold shineth the yates; God giue good then of your selfe, & of your wordlye make!

21. 'I doe see the hall now, Child Waters, That of redd gold shineth the tower; God giue good then of your selfe, And of your paramoure!'

22. There were four and twenty ladyes, Were playing att the ball; & Ellen, was the ffairest ladye, Must bring his steed to the stall.

23. There were four and twenty faire ladyes Was playing att the chesse; & Ellen, shee was the ffairest ladye, Must bring his horsse to grasse.

24. & then bespake Child Waters sister, & these were the words said shee: 'You haue the prettyest ffootpage, brother, That ever I saw with mine eye;

25. 'But that his belly it is soe bigg, His girdle goes wonderous hye; & euer I pray you, Child Waters, Let him go into the chamber with me.'

26. 'It is more meete for a litle ffootpage, That has run through mosse and mire, To take his supper vpon his knee & sitt downe by the kitchin fyer, Then to go into the chamber with any ladye That weares so [rich] attyre.'

27. But when the had supped euery one, To bedd they tooke the way; He sayd, 'Come hither, my litle footpage, Hearken what I doe say!

28. '& goe thee downe into yonder towne, & low into the street; The ffarest ladye that thou can find, Hyer her in mine armes to sleepe, & take her vp in thine armes two, For filinge of her ffeete.'

29. Ellen is gone into the towne, & low into the streete: The fairest ladye that shee cold find She hyred in his armes to sleepe, & tooke her in her armes two, For filing of her ffeete.

30. 'I pray you now, good Child Waters, That I may creepe in att your bedds feete, For there is noe place about this house Where I may say a sleepe.'

31. This [night] & itt droue on affterward Till itt was neere the day: He sayd, 'Rise vp, my litle ffoote page, & giue my steed corne & hay; & soe doe thou the good blacke oates, That he may carry me the better away.'

32. And vp then rose ffaire Ellen, & gave his steed corne & hay, & soe shee did and the good blacke oates, That he might carry him the better away.

33. Shee layned her backe to the manger side, & greiuouslye did groane; & that beheard his mother deere, And heard her make her moane.

34. Shee said, 'Rise vp, thou Child Waters! I thinke thou art a cursed man; For yonder is a ghost in thy stable, That greiuously doth groane, Or else some woman laboures of child, Shee is soe woe begone!'

35. But vp then rose Child Waters, & did on his shirt of silke; Then he put on his other clothes On his body as white as milke.

36. & when he came to the stable dore, Full still that hee did stand, That hee might heare now faire Ellen, How shee made her monand.

37. Shee said, 'Lullabye, my owne deere child! Lullabye, deere child, deere! I wold thy father were a king, Thy mother layd on a beere!'

38. 'Peace now,' he said, 'good faire Ellen! & be of good cheere, I thee pray, & the bridall & the churching both, They shall bee vpon one day.'

[Annotations: 2.2: 'see,' protect. So constantly in this phrase. 18.2: 'yates,' gates. 18.3: In each case the Folio gives '24' for 'four and twenty.' 18.4: 'wordlye make,' worldly mate. 26.6: 'rich' added by Percy. 28.6: 'For filinge,' to save defiling. 30.4: 'say,' essay, attempt. 31.1: 'night.' Child's emendation. Percy read: 'This done, the nighte drove on apace.' 32.3: 'and'; Folio _on_. 36.4: 'monand,' moaning.]

EARL BRAND, THE DOUGLAS TRAGEDY, and THE CHILD OF ELL

There are here put in juxtaposition three versions in ballad-form of the same story, though fragmentary in the two latter cases, not only because each is good, but to show the possibilities of variation in a popular story. There is yet another ballad, _Erlinton_, printed by Sir Walter Scott in the _Minstrelsy_, embodying an almost identical tale. _Earl Brand_ preserves most of the features of a very ancient story with more exactitude than any other traditional ballad. But in this case, as in too many others, we must turn to a Scandinavian ballad for the complete form of the story. A Danish ballad, _Ribold and Guldborg_, gives the fine tale thus:--

Ribold, a king's son, in love with Guldborg, offers to carry her away 'to a land where death and sorrow come not, where all the birds are cuckoos, where all the grass is leeks, where all the streams run with wine.' Guldborg is willing, but doubts whether she can escape the strict watch kept over her by her family and by her betrothed lover. Ribold disguises her in his armour and a cloak, and they ride away. On the moor they meet an earl, who asks, 'Whither away?' Ribold answers that he is taking his youngest sister from a cloister. This does not deceive the earl, nor does a bribe close his mouth; and Guldborg's father, learning that she is away with Ribold, rides with his sons in pursuit. Ribold bids Guldborg hold his horse, and prepares to fight; he tells her that, whatever may chance, she must not call on him by name. Ribold slays her father and some of her kin and six of her brothers; only her youngest brother is left: Guldborg cries, 'Ribold, spare him,' that he may carry tidings to her mother. Immediately Ribold receives a mortal wound. He ceases fighting, sheathes his sword, and says to her, 'Wilt thou go home to thy mother again, or wilt thou follow so sad a swain?' And she says she will follow him. In silence they ride on. 'Why art not thou merry as before?' asks Guldborg. And Ribold answers, 'Thy brother's sword has been in my heart.' They reach his house: he calls for one to take his horse, another to fetch a priest; for his brother shall have Guldborg. But she refuses. That night dies Ribold, and Guldborg slays herself and dies in his arms.

A second and even more dramatic ballad, _Hildebrand and Hilde_, tells a similar story.

A comparison of the above tale with _Earl Brand_ will show a close agreement in most of the incidents. The chief loss in the English ballad is the request of Ribold, that Guldborg must not speak his name while he fights. The very name 'Brand' is doubtless a direct derivative of 'Hildebrand.' Winchester (13.2), as it implies a nunnery, corresponds to the cloister in the Danish ballad. Earl Brand directs his mother to marry the King's daughter to his youngest brother; but her refusal, if she did as Guldborg did, has been lost.

_The Douglas Tragedy_, a beautiful but fragmentary version, is, says Scott, 'one of the few to which popular tradition has ascribed complete locality.' The ascribed locality, if more complete, is no more probable than any other: to ascribe any definite locality to a ballad is in all cases a waste of time and labour.

_The Child of Ell_, in the Percy Folio, _may_ have contained anything; but immediately we approach a point where comparison would be of interest, we meet an _hiatus valde deflendus_. Percy, in the _Reliques_, expanded the fragment here given to about five times the length.

EARL BRAND

(From +R. Bell's+ _Ancient Poems, Ballads_, etc.)

1. Oh did ye ever hear o' brave Earl Bran'? _Ay lally, o lilly lally_ He courted the king's daughter of fair England _All i' the night sae early_.

2. She was scarcely fifteen years of age Till sae boldly she came to his bedside.

3. 'O Earl Bran', fain wad I see A pack of hounds let loose on the lea.'

4. 'O lady, I have no steeds but one, And thou shalt ride, and I will run.'

5. 'O Earl Bran', my father has two, And thou shall have the best o' them a'.'

6. They have ridden o'er moss and moor, And they met neither rich nor poor.

7. Until they met with old Carl Hood; He comes for ill, but never for good.

8. 'Earl Bran', if ye love me, Seize this old earl, and gar him die.'

9. 'O lady fair, it wad be sair, To slay an old man that has grey hair.

10. 'O lady fair, I'll no do sae, I'll gie him a pound and let him gae.'

11. 'O where hae ye ridden this lee lang day? O where hae ye stolen this lady away?'

12. 'I have not ridden this lee lang day, Nor yet have I stolen this lady away.

13. 'She is my only, my sick sister, Whom I have brought from Winchester.'

14. 'If she be sick, and like to dead, Why wears she the ribbon sae red?

15. 'If she be sick, and like to die, Then why wears she the gold on high?'

16. When he came to this lady's gate, Sae rudely as he rapped at it.

17. 'O where's the lady o' this ha'?' 'She's out with her maids to play at the ba'.'

18. 'Ha, ha, ha! ye are a' mista'en: Gae count your maidens o'er again.

19. 'I saw her far beyond the moor Away to be the Earl o' Bran's whore.'

20. The father armed fifteen of his best men, To bring his daughter back again.

21. O'er her left shoulder the lady looked then: 'O Earl Bran', we both are tane.'

22. 'If they come on me ane by ane, Ye may stand by and see them slain.

23. 'But if they come on me one and all, Ye may stand by and see me fall.'

24. They have come on him ane by ane, And he has killed them all but ane.

25. And that ane came behind his back, And he's gi'en him a deadly whack.

26. But for a' sae wounded as Earl Bran' was, He has set his lady on her horse.

27. They rode till they came to the water o' Doune, And then he alighted to wash his wounds.

28. 'O Earl Bran', I see your heart's blood!' ''Tis but the gleat o' my scarlet hood.'

29. They rode till they came to his mother's gate, And sae rudely as he rapped at it.

30. 'O my son's slain, my son's put down, And a' for the sake of an English loun.'

31. 'O say not sae, my dear mother, But marry her to my youngest brother.

32. 'This has not been the death o' ane, But it's been that o' fair seventeen.'

THE DOUGLAS TRAGEDY

(From +Scott's+ _Minstrelsy_)

1. 'Rise up, rise up now, Lord Douglas,' she says, 'And put on your armour so bright; Let it never be said that a daughter of thine Was married to a lord under night.

2. 'Rise up, rise up, my seven bold sons, And put on your armour so bright; And take better care of your youngest sister, For your eldest's awa' the last night!'

3. He's mounted her on a milk-white steed, And himself on a dapple grey, With a bugelet horn hung down by his side, And lightly they rode away.

4. Lord William lookit o'er his left shoulder, To see what he could see, And there he spy'd her seven brethren bold Come riding over the lee.

5. 'Light down, light down, Lady Margret,' he said, 'And hold my steed in your hand, Until that against your seven brethren bold, And your father, I mak' a stand.'

6. She held his steed in her milk-white hand, And never shed one tear, Until that she saw her seven brethren fa', And her father hard fighting, who lov'd her so dear.

7. 'O hold your hand, Lord William!' she said, 'For your strokes they are wondrous sair; True lovers I can get many a ane, But a father I can never get mair.'

8. O she's ta'en out her handkerchief, It was o' the holland sae fine, And aye she dighted her father's bloody wounds, That were redder than the wine.

9. 'O chuse, O chuse, Lady Margret,' he said, 'O whether will ye gang or bide?' 'I'll gang, I'll gang, Lord William,' she said, 'For ye have left me no other guide.'

10. He's lifted her on a milk-white steed, And himself on a dapple grey, With a bugelet horn hung down by his side, And slowly they baith rade away.

11. O they rade on, and on they rade, And a' by the light of the moon, Until they came to yon wan water, And there they lighted down.