BOOK III.

THE TWA BROTHERS.

From Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, i. 59.

The ballad of the _Twa Brothers_, like many of the domestic tragedies with which it is grouped in this volume, is by no means the peculiar property of the island of Great Britain. It finds an exact counterpart in the Swedish ballad _Sven i Rosengård_, _Svenska F. V._, No. 67, Arwidsson, No. 87, A, B, which, together with a Finnish version of the same story, thought to be derived from the Swedish, will be found translated in our Appendix. _Edward_, in Percy's _Reliques_, has the same general theme, with the difference that a father is murdered instead of a brother. Motherwell[C] has printed a ballad (_Son Davie_) closely agreeing with _Edward_, except that the crime is again fratricide. He has also furnished another version of _The Twa Brothers_, in which the catastrophe is the consequence of an accident, and this circumstance has led the excellent editor to tax Jamieson with altering one of the most essential features of the ballad, by filling out a defective stanza with four lines that make one brother to have slain the other in a quarrel. Jamieson is, however, justified in giving this more melancholy character to the story, by the tenor of all the kindred pieces, and by the language of his own. It will be observed that both in _Edward_ and _Son Davie_, the wicked act was not only deliberate, but was even instigated by the mother. The departure from the original is undoubtedly on the part of Motherwell's copy, which has softened down a shocking incident to accommodate a modern and refined sentiment. But Jamieson is artistically, as well as critically right, since the effect of the contrast of the remorse of one party and the generosity of the other is heightened by representing the terrible event as the result of ungoverned passion.

[C] The stanza mentioned by Motherwell, as occurring in Werner's _Twenty Fourth of February_, (Scene i.) is apparently only a quotation from memory of Herder's translation of _Edward_. When Motherwell became aware that a similar tradition was common to the Northern nations of Europe, he could no longer have thought it possible that an occurrence in the family history of the Somervilles gave rise to _The Twa Brothers_.

The three Scottish ballads mentioned above, here follow, and Motherwell's _Twa Brothers_ will be found in the Appendix. Mr. Sharpe has inserted a third copy of this in his _Ballad Book_, p. 56. Another is said to be in _The Scot's Magazine_, for June, 1822. Placing no confidence in any of Allan Cunningham's _souvenirs_ of Scottish Song, we simply state that one of them, composed upon the theme of the _Twa Brothers_, is included in the _Songs of Scotland_, ii. 16.

"The common title of this ballad is, _The Twa Brothers_, or, _The Wood o' Warslin_, but the words _o' Warslin_ appearing to the editor, as will be seen in the text, to be a mistake for _a-wrestling_, he took the liberty of altering it accordingly. After all, perhaps, the title may be right; and the wood may afterwards have obtained its denomination from the tragical event here celebrated. A very few lines inserted by the editor to fill up chasms, [some of which have been omitted,] are inclosed in brackets; the text, in other respects, is given genuine, as it was taken down from the recitation of Mrs. Arrott." JAMIESON.

"O will ye gae to the school, brother? Or will ye gae to the ba'? Or will ye gae to the wood a-warslin, To see whilk o's maun fa'?"

"It's I winna gae to the school, brother; 5 Nor will I gae to the ba'? But I will gae to the wood a-warslin; And it is you maun fa'."

They warstled up, they warstled down, The lee-lang simmer's day; 10 [And nane was near to part the strife, That raise atween them tway, Till out and Willie's drawn his sword, And did his brother slay.]

"O lift me up upon your back; 15 Tak me to yon wall fair; You'll wash my bluidy wounds o'er and o'er, And syne they'll bleed nae mair.

"And ye'll tak aff my Hollin sark, And riv't frae gair to gair; 20 Ye'll stap it in my bluidy wounds, And syne they'll bleed nae mair."

He's liftit his brother upon his back; Ta'en him to yon wall fair; He's washed his bluidy wounds o'er and o'er, 25 But ay they bled mair and mair.

And he's ta'en aff his Hollin sark, And riven't frae gair to gair; He's stappit it in his bluidy wounds; But ay they bled mair and mair. 30

"Ye'll lift me up upon your back, Tak me to Kirkland fair;[L32] Ye'll mak my greaf baith braid and lang, And lay my body there.

"Ye'll lay my arrows at my head, 35 My bent bow at my feet; My sword and buckler at my side, As I was wont to sleep.

"Whan ye gae hame to your father, He'll speer for his son John:-- 40 Say, ye left him into Kirkland fair, Learning the school alone.

"When ye gae hame to my sister, She'll speer for her brother John:-- Ye'll say, ye left him in Kirkland fair, 45 The green grass growin aboon.

"Whan ye gae hame to my true love, She'll speer for her lord John:-- Ye'll say, ye left him in Kirkland fair, But hame ye fear he'll never come."-- 50

He's gane hame to his father; He speered for his son John: "It's I left him into Kirkland fair, Learning the school alone."

And whan he gaed hame to his sister, 55 She speered for her brother John:-- "It's I left him into Kirkland fair, The green grass growin aboon."

And whan he gaed hame to his true love, She speer'd for her lord John: 60 "It's I left him into Kirkland fair, And hame I fear he'll never come."

"But whaten bluid's that on your sword, Willie? Sweet Willie, tell to me." "O it is the bluid o' my grey hounds; 65 They wadna rin for me."

"It's nae the bluid o' your hounds, Willie; Their bluid was never so red; But it is the bluid o' my true love, That ye hae slain indeed." 70

That fair may wept, that fair may mourn'd, That fair may mourn'd and pin'd; "When every lady looks for her love, I ne'er need look for mine."

"O whaten a death will ye die, Willie? 75 Now, Willie, tell to me." "Ye'll put me in a bottomless boat, And I'll gae sail the sea."

"Whan will ye come hame again, Willie? Now, Willie, tell to me." 80 "Whan the sun and moon dances on the green, And that will never be."

32. "The house of Inchmurry, formerly called Kirkland, was built of old by the abbot of Holyrood-house, for his accommodation when he came to that country, and was formerly the minister's manse." _Stat. Ac. of Scotland_, vol. xiii. p. 506. J.

EDWARD, EDWARD.

"This curious Song was transmitted to the Editor by Sir David Dalrymple, Bart., late Lord Hailes." PERCY, _Reliques_, i. 61.

"Quhy dois zour brand sae drop w' bluid, Edward, Edward? Quhy dois zour brand sae drop wi' bluid, And quhy sae sad gang zee O?" "O I hae killed my hauke sae guid, 5 Mither, mither: O I hae killed my hauke sae guid, And I had nae mair bot hee O."

"Zour haukis bluid was nevir sae reid, Edward, Edward: 10 Zour haukis bluid was nevir sae reid, My deir son I tell thee O." "O I hae killed my reid-roan steid, Mither, mither: O I hae killed my reid-roan steid, 15 That erst was sae fair and free O."

"Zour steid was auld, and ze hae gat mair, Edward, Edward: Zour steid was auld, and ze hae gat mair, Sum other dule ze drie O." 20 "O I hae killed my fadir deir, Mither, mither: O I hae killed my fadir deir, Alas! and wae is mee O!"

"And quhatten penance wul ze drie, for that, 25 Edward, Edward? And quhatten penance will ze drie for that? My deir son, now tell me O." "Ile set my feit in zonder boat, Mither, mither: 30 Ile set my feit in zonder boat, And Ile fare ovir the sea O."

"And quhat wul ze doe wi' zour towirs and zour ha', Edward, Edward? And quhat wul ze doe wi' zour towirs and zour ha', 35 That were sae fair to see O?" "Ile let thame stand til they doun fa', Mither, mither: Ile let thame stand til they doun fa', For here nevir mair maun I bee O." 40

"And quhat wul ze leive to zour bairns and zour wife, Edward, Edward? And quhat wul ze leive to zour bairns and zour wife, Quhan ze gang ovir the sea O?" "The warldis room, late them beg throw life, 45 Mither, mither: The warldis room, late them beg throw life, For thame nevir mair wul I see O."

"And quhat wul ze leive to zour ain mither deir, Edward, Edward? 50 And quhat wul ze leive to zour ain mither deir? My deir son, now tell me O." "The curse of hell frae me sall ze beir, Mither, mither: The curse of hell frae me sall ze beir, 55 Sic counseils ze gave to me O."

SON DAVIE, SON DAVIE.

From the recitation of an old woman. Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, 339.

"What bluid's that on thy coat lap? Son Davie! son Davie! What bluid's that on thy coat lap? And the truth come tell to me O."

"It is the bluid of my great hawk, 5 Mother lady! mother lady! It is the bluid of my great hawk, And the truth I hae tald to thee O."

"Hawk's bluid was ne'er sae red, Son Davie! son Davie! 10 Hawk's bluid was ne'er sae red, And the truth come tell to me O."

"It is the bluid o' my grey hound, Mother lady! mother lady! It is the bluid of my grey hound, 15 And it wudna rin for me O."

"Hound's bluid was ne'er sae red, Son Davie! son Davie! Hound's bluid was ne'er sae red, And the truth come tell to me O." 20

"It is the bluid o' my brother John, Mother lady! mother lady! It is the bluid o' my brother John, And the truth I hae tald to thee O."

"What about did the plea begin? 25 Son Davie! son Davie!" "It began about the cutting o' a willow wand, That would never hae been a tree O."

"What death dost thou desire to die? Son Davie! son Davie! 30 What death dost thou desire to die? And the truth come tell to me O."

"I'll set my foot in a bottomless ship, Mother lady! mother lady! I'll set my foot in a bottomless ship, 35 And ye'll never see mair o' me O."

"What wilt thou leave to thy poor wife? Son Davie! son Davie!" "Grief and sorrow all her life, And she'll never get mair frae me O." 40

"What wilt thou leave to thy auld son? Son Davie! son Davie!" "The weary warld to wander up and down, And he'll never get mair o' me O."

"What wilt thou leave to thy mother dear? 45 Son Davie! son Davie!" "A fire o' coals to burn her wi' hearty cheer, And she'll never get mair o' me O."

THE CRUEL SISTER.

The earliest printed copy of this ballad is the curious piece in _Wit Restor'd_, (1658,) called _The Miller and the King's Daughter_, improperly said to be a parody, by Jamieson and others. (See Appendix.) Pinkerton inserted in his _Tragic Ballads_, (p. 72,) a ballad on the subject, which preserves many genuine lines, but is half his own composition. Complete versions were published by Scott and Jamieson, and more recently a third has been furnished in Sharpe's _Ballad Book_, p. 30, and a fourth in Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_ (given at the end of this volume). The burden of Mr. Sharpe's copy is nearly the same as that of the _Cruel Mother_, _post_, p. 372. Jamieson's copy had also this burden, but he exchanged it for the more popular, and certainly more tasteful, _Binnorie_. No ballad furnishes a closer link than this between the popular poetry of England and that of the other nations of Northern Europe. The same story is found in Icelandic, Norse, Faroish, and Estnish ballads, as well as in the Swedish and Danish, and a nearly related one in many other ballads or tales, German, Polish, Lithuanian, etc., etc.--See _Svenska Folk-Visor_, iii. 16, i. 81, 86, Arwidsson, ii. 139, and especially _Den Talende Strengeleg_, Grundtvig, No. 95, and the notes to _Der Singende Knochen_, _K. u. H. Märchen_, iii. 55, ed. 1856.

Of the edition in the _Border Minstrelsy_, Scott gives the following account, (iii. 287.)

"It is compiled from a copy in Mrs. Brown's MSS., intermixed with a beautiful fragment, of fourteen verses, transmitted to the Editor by J. C. Walker, Esq. the ingenious historian of the Irish bards. Mr. Walker, at the same time, favored the Editor with the following note: 'I am indebted to my departed friend, Miss Brook, for the foregoing pathetic fragment. Her account of it was as follows: This song was trans-scribed, several years ago, from the memory of an old woman, who had no recollection of the concluding verses; probably the beginning may also be lost, as it seems to commence abruptly.' The first verse and burden of the fragment ran thus:--

'O sister, sister, reach thy hand! _Hey ho, my Nanny, O_; And you shall be heir of all my land, _While the swan swims bonney, O_.'"

There were two sisters sat in a bour; _Bínnorie, O Bínnorie_; There came a knight to be their wooer; _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_.

He courted the eldest with glove and ring, 5 _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; But he lo'ed the youngest abune a' thing; _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_.

He courted the eldest with broach and knife, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; 10 But he lo'ed the youngest abune his life; _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_.

The eldest she was vexed sair, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; And sore envied her sister fair; 15 _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_.

The eldest said to the youngest ane, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; "Will ye go and see our father's ships come in?" _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. 20

She's ta'en her by the lily hand, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; And led her down to the river strand; _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_.

The youngest stude upon a stane, 25 _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; The eldest came and pushed her in; _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_.

She took her by the middle sma', _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; 30 And dash'd her bonny back to the jaw; _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_.

"O sister, sister, reach your hand, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; And ye shall be heir of half my land."-- 35 _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_.

"O sister, I'll not reach my hand, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; And I'll be heir of all your land; _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. 40

"Shame fa' the hand that I should take, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; It's twin'd me and my world's make."-- _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_.

"O sister, reach me but your glove, 45 _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; And sweet William shall be your love."-- _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_.

"Sink on, nor hope for hand or glove! _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; 50 And sweet William shall better be my love, _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_.

"Your cherry cheeks and your yellow hair, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_, Garr'd me gang maiden evermair."-- 55 _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_.

Sometimes she sunk, and sometimes she swam, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; Until she cam to the miller's dam; _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. 60

"O father, father, draw your dam! _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; There's either a mermaid, or a milk-white swan." _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_.

The miller hasted and drew his dam, 65 _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; And there he found a drown'd woman; _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_.

You could not see her yellow hair, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; 70 For gowd and pearls that were so rare; _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_.

You could not see her middle sma', _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; Her gowden girdle was sae bra'; 75 _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_.

A famous harper passing by, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; The sweet pale face he chanced to spy; _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. 80

And when he looked that lady on, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; He sigh'd and made a heavy moan; _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_.

He made a harp of her breast-bone, 85 _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; Whose sounds would melt a heart of stone; _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_.

The strings he framed of her yellow hair, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; 90 Whose notes made sad the listening ear; _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_.

He brought it to her father's hall, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; And there was the court assembled all; 95 _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_.

He laid his harp upon a stone, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; And straight it began to play alone; _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. 100

"O yonder sits my father, the king, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; And yonder sits my mother, the queen;" _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_.

"And yonder stands my brother Hugh, 105 _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; And by him my William, sweet and true." _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_.

But the last tune that the harp play'd then, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; 110 Was--"Woe to my sister, false Helen!" _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_.

THE TWA SISTERS.

_Verbatim_ (with one interpolated stanza) from the recitation of Mrs. Brown. Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, i. 50.

There was twa sisters liv'd in a bower, _Bínnorie, O Bínnorie_! There came a knight to be their wooer, _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.

He courted the eldest wi' glove and ring, 5 _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! But he loved the youngest aboon a' thing, _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.

He courted the eldest wi' broach and knife, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! 10 But he loved the youngest as his life, _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.

The eldest she was vexed sair, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! And sair envied her sister fair, 15 _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.

Intill her bower she coudna rest, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! Wi' grief and spite she maistly brast, _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. 20

Upon a morning fair and clear, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! She cried upon her sister dear, _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.

"O sister, come to yon sea strand, 25 _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! And see our father's ships come to land," _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.

She's ta'en her by the milk-white hand, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! 30 And led her down to yon sea strand, _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.

The youngest stood upon a stane, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! The eldest came and threw her in, 35 _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.

She took her by the middle sma' _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! And dashed her bonny back to the jaw, _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. 40

"O sister, sister, tak my hand, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! And I'se mak ye heir to a' my land, _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.

"O sister, sister, tak my middle, 45 _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! And ye's get my goud and my gouden girdle, _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.

"O sister, sister, save my life, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! 50 And I swear I'se never be nae man's wife," _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.

"Foul fa' the hand that I should tak, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! It twin'd me o' my warldes mak, 55 _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.

"Your cherry cheeks and yellow hair _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! Gars me gang maiden for evermair," _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. 60

Sometimes she sank, sometimes she swam, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! Till she came to the mouth o' yon mill-dam, _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.

O out it came the miller's son, 65 _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! And saw the fair maid soummin in, _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.

"O father, father, draw your dam, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! 70 There's either a mermaid or a swan," _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.

[The miller quickly drew the dam, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! And there he found a drown'd woman, 75 _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.]

"And sair and lang mat their teen last, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! That wrought thee sic a dowie cast," _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_! 80

You coudna see her yellow hair _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! For goud and pearl that was sae rare, _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.

You coudna see her middle sma' 85 _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! For gouden girdle that was sae braw, _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.

You coudna see her fingers white, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! 90 For gouden rings that were sae gryte, _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.

And by there came a harper fine, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! That harped to the king at dine, 95 _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.

Whan he did look that lady upon, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! He sigh'd and made a heavy moan, _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. 100

He's ta'en three locks o' her yellow hair, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! And wi' them strung his harp sae fair, _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.

The first tune it did play and sing, 105 _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! Was, "Fareweel to my father the king," _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.

The nexten tune that it play'd seen, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! 110 Was, "Fareweel to my mither the queen," _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.

The thirden tune that it play'd then, _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! Was, "Wae to my sister, fair Ellen," 115 _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_!

LORD DONALD.

Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 110.

Like the two which preceded it, this ballad is common to the Gothic nations. It exists in a great variety of forms. Two stanzas, recovered by Burns, were printed in Johnson's _Museum_, i. 337; two others were inserted by Jamieson, in his _Illustrations_, p. 319. The _Border Minstrelsy_ furnished five stanzas, giving the _story_, without the bequests. Allan Cunningham's alteration of Scott's version, (_Scottish Songs_, i. 285,) has one stanza more. Kinloch procured from the North of Scotland the following complete copy.

In the Appendix, we have placed a nursery song on the same subject, still familiar in Scotland, and translations of the corresponding German and Swedish ballads--both most remarkable cases of parallelism in popular romance.

Lord Donald, as Kinloch remarks, would seem to have been poisoned by eating toads prepared as fishes. Scott, in his introduction to _Lord Randal_, has quoted from an old chronicle, a fabulous account of the poisoning of King John by means of a cup of ale, in which the venom of this reptile had been infused.

"O whare hae ye been a' day, Lord Donald, my son? O whare hae ye been a' day, my jollie young man?" "I've been awa courtin':--mither, mak my bed sune, For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."

"What wad ye hae for your supper, Lord Donald, my son? 5 What wad ye hae for your supper, my jollie young man?" "I've gotten my supper:--mither, mak my bed sune, For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."

"What did ye get for your supper, Lord Donald, my son? What did ye get for your supper, my jollie young man?" 10 "A dish of sma' fishes:--mither, mak my bed sune, For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."

"Whare gat ye the fishes, Lord Donald, my son? Whare gat ye the fishes, my jollie young man?" "In my father's black ditches:--mither, mak my bed sune, 15 For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."

"What like were your fishes, Lord Donald, my son? What like were your fishes, my jollie young man?" "Black backs and spreckl'd bellies:--mither, mak my bed sune, For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." 20

"O I fear ye are poison'd, Lord Donald, my son! O I fear ye are poison'd, my jollie young man!" "O yes! I am poison'd:--mither mak my bed sune, For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."

"What will ye leave to your father, Lord Donald my son? 25 What will ye leave to your father, my jollie young man?" "Baith my houses and land:--mither, mak my bed sune, For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."

"What will ye leave to your brither, Lord Donald, my son? What will ye leave to your brither, my jollie young man?" 30 "My horse and the saddle:--mither, mak my bed sune, For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."

"What will ye leave to your sister, Lord Donald, my son? What will ye leave to your sister, my jollie young man?" "Baith my gold box and rings:--mither, mak my bed sune, 35 For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."

"What will ye leave to your true-love, Lord Donald, my son? What will ye leave to your true-love, my jollie young man?" "The tow and the halter, for to hang on yon tree, And lat her hang there for the poysoning o' me." 40

LORD RANDAL (B).

From _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, (iii. 49.)

Scott changed the name of the hero of this piece from _Lord Ronald_ to _Lord Randal_, on the authority of a single copy. The change is unimportant, but the reason will appear curious, if we remember that the Swedes and Germans have the ballad as well as the Scotch;--"because, though the circumstances are so very different, I think it not impossible, that the ballad may have originally regarded the death of Thomas Randolph, or Randal, Earl of Murray, nephew to Robert Bruce, and governor of Scotland."

"O where hae ye been Lord Randal, my son? O where hae ye been, my handsome young man?"-- "I hae been to the wild wood; mother make my bed soon, For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."--

"Where gat ye your dinner, Lord Randal, my son? 5 Where gat ye your dinner, my handsome young man?" "I dined wi' my true-love; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."--

"What gat ye to your dinner, Lord Randal, my son? What gat ye to your dinner, my handsome young man?"-- 10 "I gat eels boil'd in broo; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."--

"What became of your bloodhounds, Lord Randal, my son? What became of your bloodhounds, my handsome young man?"-- "O they swell'd and they died; mother, make my bed soon, 15 For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."--

"O I fear ye are poison'd, Lord Randal, my son! O I fear ye are poisoned, my handsome young man!"-- "O yes! I am poison'd; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie down." 20

THE CRUEL BROTHER:

OR,

THE BRIDE'S TESTAMENT.

Of this ballad, which is still commonly recited and sung in Scotland, four copies have been published. The following is from Jamieson's collection, i. 66, where it was printed _verbatim_ after the recitation of Mrs. Arrott. A copy from Aytoun's collection is subjoined, which is nearly the same as a less perfect one in Herd, i. 149, and the fourth, from Gilbert's _Ancient Christmas Carols_, &c., is in the Appendix to this volume.

The conclusion, or testamentary part, occurs very frequently in ballads, e. g. _Den lillas Testamente_, _Svenska Folk-Visor_, No. 68, translated in the Appendix to this volume, the end of _Den onde Svigermoder_, _Danske Viser_, i. 261, translated in _Illustrations of Northern Antiquities_, p. 344, _Möen paa Baalet_, Grundtvig, No. 109, A, st. 18-21, and _Kong Valdemar og hans Söster_, Grundtvig, No. 126, A, st. 101-105. See also _Edward_, and _Lord Donald_, p. 225, p. 244.

There was three ladies play'd at the ba', _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; There came a knight, and play'd o'er them a', _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_.

The eldest was baith tall and fair, 5 _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; But the youngest was beyond compare, _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_.

The midmost had a gracefu' mien, _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; 10 But the youngest look'd like beauty's queen, _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_.

The knight bow'd low to a' the three, _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; But to the youngest he bent his knee, 15 _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_.

The lady turned her head aside, _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; The knight he woo'd her to be his bride, _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. 20

The lady blush'd a rosy red, _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; And said, "Sir knight, I'm o'er young to wed," _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_.

"O lady fair, give me your hand, 25 _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; And I'll mak you ladie of a' my land," _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_.

"Sir knight, ere you my favor win, _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; 30 Ye maun get consent frae a' my kin," _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_.

He has got consent fra her parents dear, _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; And likewise frae her sisters fair, 35 _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_.

He has got consent frae her kin each one, _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; But forgot to speer at her brother John, _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. 40

Now, when the wedding day was come, _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; The knight would take his bonny bride home, _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_.

And many a lord and many a knight, 45 _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; Came to behold that lady bright, _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_.

And there was nae man that did her see, _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_, 50 But wished himself bridegroom to be, _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_.

Her father dear led her down the stair, _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; And her sisters twain they kiss'd her there, 55 _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_.

Her mother dear led her through the close, _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; And her brother John set her on her horse, _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. 60

She lean'd her o'er the saddle-bow, _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_, To give him a kiss ere she did go, _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_.

He has ta'en a knife, baith lang and sharp, 65 _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_, And stabb'd the bonny bride to the heart, _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_.

She hadna ridden half thro' the town, _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_, 70 Until her heart's blood stained her gown, _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_.

"Ride saftly on," said the best young man, _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; "For I think our bonny bride looks pale and wan," 75 _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_.

"O lead me gently up yon hill, _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_, And I'll there sit down, and make my will," _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. 80

"O what will you leave to your father dear?" _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; "The silver-shod steed that brought me here," _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_.

"What will you leave to your mother dear?" 85 _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; "My velvet pall and silken gear," _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_.

"And what will ye leave to your sister Ann?" _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; 90 "My silken scarf, and my golden fan," _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_.

"What will ye leave to your sister Grace?" _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; "My bloody cloaths to wash and dress," 95 _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_.

"What will ye leave to your brother John?" _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; "The gallows-tree to hang him on," _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. 100

"What will ye leave to your brother John's wife?" _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; "The wilderness to end her life," _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_.

This fair lady in her grave was laid, 105 _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; And a mass was o'er her said, _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_.

But it would have made your heart right sair, _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; 110 To see the bridegroom rive his hair, _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_.

THE CRUEL BROTHER.

From Aytoun's _Ballads of Scotland_ (2d ed.), i. 232, "taken down from recitation." Found also, but with several stanzas wanting, in Herd's _Scottish Songs_, i. 149. The title in both collections is _Fine Flowers i' the Valley_. This part of the refrain is found in one of the versions of the _Cruel Mother_, p. 269. To Herd's copy are annexed two fragmentary stanzas with nearly the same burden as that of the foregoing ballad.

She louted down to gie a kiss, _With a hey and a lily gay_; He stuck his penknife in her hass, _And the rose it smells so sweetly_.

"Ride up, ride up," cry'd the foremost man, _With a hey and a lily gay_; "I think our bride looks pale and wan," _And the rose it smells so sweetly_.

There were three sisters in a ha', _Fine flowers i' the valley_, There came three lords amang them a', _The red, green, and the yellow_.

The first o' them was clad in red, 5 _Fine flowers i' the valley_; "O lady, will ye be my bride?" _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_.

The second o' them was clad in green, _Fine flowers i' the valley_; 10 "O lady, will ye be my queen?" _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_.

The third o' them was clad in yellow, _Fine flowers i' the valley_; "O lady, will ye be my marrow?" 15 _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_.

"O ye maun ask my father dear," _Fine flowers i' the valley_, "Likewise the mother that did me bear," _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. 20

"And ye maun ask my sister Ann," _Fine flowers i' the valley_; "And not forget my brother John," _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_.

"O I have asked thy father dear," 25 _Fine flowers i' the valley_, "Likewise the mother that did thee bear," _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_.

"And I have asked your sister Ann," _Fine flowers i' the valley_; 30 "But I forgot your brother John;" _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_.

Now when the wedding-day was come, _Fine flowers i' the valley_, The knight would take his bonny bride home, 35 _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_.

And mony a lord, and mony a knight, _Fine flowers i' the valley_, Cam to behold that lady bright, _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. 40

There was nae man that did her see, _Fine flowers i' the valley_, But wished himsell bridegroom to be, _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_.

Her father led her down the stair, 45 _Fine flowers i' the valley_, And her sisters twain they kissed her there, _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_.

Her mother led her through the close, _Fine flowers i' the valley_; 50 Her brother John set her on her horse, _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_.

"You are high and I am low," _Fine flowers i' the valley_; "Give me a kiss before you go," 55 _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_.

She was louting down to kiss him sweet, _Fine flowers i' the valley_; When wi' his knife he wounded her deep, _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. 60

She hadna ridden through half the town, _Fine flowers i' the valley_, Until her heart's blood stained her gown, _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_.

"Ride saftly on," said the best young man, 65 _Fine flowers i' the valley_; "I think our bride looks pale and wan!" _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_.

"O lead me over into yon stile," _Fine flowers i' the valley_, 70 "That I may stop and breathe awhile," _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_.

"O lead me over into yon stair," _Fine flowers i' the valley_, "For there I'll lie and bleed nae mair," 75 _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_.

"O what will you leave to your father dear?" _Fine flowers i' the valley_; "The siller-shod steed that brought me here," _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. 80

"What will you leave to your mother dear?" _Fine flowers i' the valley_; "My velvet pall, and my pearlin' gear," _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_.

"What will you leave to your sister Ann?" 85 _Fine flowers i' the valley_; "My silken gown that stands its lane," _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_.

"What will you leave to your sister Grace?" _Fine flowers i' the valley_; 90 "My bluidy shirt to wash and dress," _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_.

"What will you leave to your brother John?" _Fine flowers i' the valley_; "The gates o' hell to let him in," 95 _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_.

LADY ANNE.

From _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 18.

"This ballad was communicated to me by Mr. Kirkpatrick Sharpe of Hoddom, who mentions having copied it from an old magazine. Although it has probably received some modern corrections, the general turn seems to be ancient, and corresponds with that of a fragment which I have often heard sung in my childhood."

The version to which Sir Walter Scott refers, and part of which he proceeds to quote, had been printed in Johnson's _Museum_. It is placed immediately after the present, with other copies of the ballad from Motherwell and Kinloch.

In Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_ there are two more, which are repeated with slight variations in the XVII. Vol. of the Percy Society, p. 46, p. 50. Both will be found in the Appendix. The copy in Buchan's _Gleanings_, p. 90, seems to be taken from Scott. Smith's _Scottish Minstrel_, iv. 33, affords still another variety.

In German, _Die Kindesmörderin_, Erk's _Liederhort_, No. 41, five copies; Erlach, iv. 148; Hoffmann, _Schlesische V. L._, No. 31, 32; _Wunderhorn_, ii. 202; Zuccalmaglio, No. 97; Meinert, No. 81; Simrock, p. 87. (But some of these are repetitions.) Wendish, Haupt and Schmaler, I. No. 292, and with considerable differences, I. No. 290, II. 197. This last reference is taken from Grundtvig, ii. 531.

Fair Lady Anne sate in her bower, Down by the greenwood side, And the flowers did spring, and the birds did sing, 'Twas the pleasant May-day tide.

But fair Lady Anne on Sir William call'd, 5 With the tear grit in her ee, "O though thou be fause, may Heaven thee guard, In the wars ayont the sea!"--

Out of the wood came three bonnie boys, Upon the simmer's morn, 10 And they did sing and play at the ba', As naked as they were born.

"O seven lang years wad I sit here, Amang the frost and snaw, A' to hae but ane o' these bonnie boys, 15 A playing at the ba'."--

Then up and spake the eldest boy, "Now listen, thou fair ladie, And ponder well the rede that I tell, Then make ye a choice of the three. 20

"'Tis I am Peter, and this is Paul, And that ane, sae fair to see, But a twelve-month sinsyne to paradise came, To join with our companie."--

"O I will hae the snaw-white boy, 25 The bonniest of the three."-- "And if I were thine, and in thy propine, O what wad ye do to me?"--

"'Tis I wad clead thee in silk and gowd, And nourice thee on my knee."-- 30 "O mither! mither! when I was thine, Sic kindness I couldna see.

"Beneath the turf, where now I stand, The fause nurse buried me; The cruel penknife sticks still in my heart, 35 And I come not back to thee."--

* * * * * * *

FINE FLOWERS IN THE VALLEY.

From Johnson's _Musical Museum_, p. 331.

The first line of the burden is found also in _The Cruel Brother_, p. 258.

She sat down below a thorn, _Fine flowers in the valley_; And there she has her sweet babe born, _And the green leaves they grow rarely_.

"Smile na sae sweet, my bonnie babe, 5 _Fine flowers in the valley_, And ye smile sae sweet, ye'll smile me dead," _And the green leaves they grow rarely_.

She's taen out her little penknife, _Fine flowers in the valley_, 10 And twinn'd the sweet babe o' its life, _And the green leaves they grow rarely_.

She's howket a grave by the light o' the moon, _Fine flowers in the valley_, And there she's buried her sweet babe in, 15 _And the green leaves they grow rarely_.

As she was going to the church, _Fine flowers in the valley_, She saw a sweet babe in the porch, _And the green leaves they grow rarely_. 20

"O sweet babe, and thou were mine, _Fine flowers in the valley_, I wad cleed thee in the silk so fine," _And the green leaves they grow rarely_.

"O mother dear, when I was thine, 25 _Fine flowers in the valley_, Ye did na prove to me sae kind," _And the green leaves they grow rarely_.

THE CRUEL MOTHER.

From Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 161.

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_.

She took frae 'bout her ribbon-belt, 5 And there she bound them hand and foot.

She has ta'en out her wee penknife, And there she ended baith their life.

She has howked a hole baith deep and wide, She has put them in baith side by side. 10

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

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

"O bonnie babes! gin ye were mine, 15 I would dress you up in satin fine!

"O I would dress you in the silk, And wash you ay in morning milk!"

"O cruel mother! we were thine, And thou made us to wear the twine. 20

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

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

THE CRUEL MOTHER.

From Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 46.

Three stanzas of a Warwickshire version closely resembling Kinloch's are given in _Notes and Queries_, vol. viii. p. 358.

There lives a lady in London-- _All alone, and alonie_; She's gane wi' bairn to the clerk's son-- _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_.

She has tane her mantel her about-- 5 _All alone, and alonie_; She's gane aff to the gude greenwud-- _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_.

She has set her back until an aik-- _All alone, and alonie_; 10 First it bowed, and syne it brake-- _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_.

She has set her back until a brier-- _All alone, and alonie_; Bonnie were the twa boys she did bear-- 15 _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_.

But out she's tane a little penknife-- _All alone, and alonie_; And she's parted them and their sweet life-- _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_. 20

She's aff unto her father's ha'-- _All alone, and alonie_; She seem'd the lealest maiden amang them a'-- _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_.

As she lookit our the castle wa'-- 25 _All alone, and alonie_; She spied twa bonnie boys playing at the ba'-- _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_.

"O an thae twa babes were mine"-- _All alone, and alonie_; 30 "They should wear the silk and the sabelline"-- _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_.

"O mother dear, when we were thine," _All alone, and alonie_; "We neither wore the silks nor the sabelline"-- 35 _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_.

"But out ye took a little penknife"-- _All alone, and alonie_; "An ye parted us and our sweet life"-- _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_. 40

"But now we're in the heavens hie"-- _All alone, and alonie_; "And ye have the pains o' hell to dree"-- _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_.

MAY COLVIN, OR FALSE SIR JOHN.

In the very ancient though corrupted ballads of _Lady Isabel and the Elf-Knight_, and _The Water o' Wearie's Well_ (vol. i. p. 195, 198), an Elf or a Merman occupies the place here assigned to False Sir John. Perhaps _May Colvin_ is the result of the same modernizing process by which _Hynde Etin_ has been converted into _Young Hastings the Groom_ (vol. i. p. 294, 189). The coincidence of the name with _Clerk Colvill_, in vol. i. p. 192, may have some significance. This, however, would not be the opinion of Grundtvig, who regards the Norse and German ballads resembling _Lady Isabel_, &c., as compounded of two independent stories. If this be so, then we should rather say that a ballad similar to _May Colvin_ has been made to furnish the conclusion to the pieces referred to.

The story of this ballad has apparently some connection with _Bluebeard_, but it is hard to say what the connection is. (See _Fitchers Vogel_ in the Grimms' _K. u. H.-Märchen_, No. 46, and notes.) The versions of the ballad in other languages are all but innumerable: e. g. _Röfvaren Rymer_, _Röfvaren Brun_, _Svenska F.-V._, No. 82, 83; _Den Falske Riddaren_, Arwidsson, No. 44; _Ulrich und Aennchen_, _Schön Ulrich u. Roth-Aennchen_, _Schön Ulrich und Rautendelein_, _Ulinger_, _Herr Halewyn_, etc., in _Wunderhorn_, i. 274; Uhland, 141-157 (four copies); Erk, _Liederhort_, 91, 93; Erlach, iii. 450; Zuccalmaglio, _Deutsche Volkslieder_, No. 15; Hoffmann, _Schlesische Volkslieder_, No. 12, 13, and _Niederländische Volkslieder_, No. 9, 10; etc. etc. A very brief Italian ballad will be found in the Appendix, p. 391, which seems to have the same theme. In some of the ballads the treacherous seducer is an enchanter, who prevails upon the maid to go with him by the power of a spell.

_May Colvin_ was first published in Herd's Collection, vol. i. 153. The copy here given is one obtained from recitation by Motherwell, (_Minstrelsy_, p. 67,) collated by him with that of Herd. It is defective at the end. The other versions in Sharpe's _Ballad Book_, p. 45, and Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 45, though they are provided with some sort of conclusion, are not worth reprinting. A modernized version, styled _The Outlandish Knight_, is inserted in the Notes to _Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads_, Percy Society, vol. xvii. 101.

Carlton Castle, on the coast of Carrick, is affirmed by the country people, according to Mr. Chambers, to have been the residence of the perfidious knight, and a precipice overhanging the sea, called "Fause Sir John's Loup," is pointed out as the place where he was wont to drown his wives. May Colvin is equally well ascertained to have been "a daughter of the family of Kennedy of Colzean, now represented by the Earl of Cassilis." Buchan's version assigns a different locality to the transaction--that of "Binyan's Bay," which, says the editor, is the old name of the mouth of the river Ugie.

False Sir John a wooing came To a maid of beauty fair; May Colvin was the lady's name, Her father's only heir.

He's courted her butt, and he's courted her ben, 5 And he's courted her into the ha', Till once he got this lady's consent To mount and ride awa'.

She's gane to her father's coffers, Where all his money lay; 10 And she's taken the red, and she's left the white, And so lightly as she tripped away.

She's gane down to her father's stable, Where all his steeds did stand; And she's taken the best, and she's left the warst, 15 That was in her father's land.

He rode on, and she rode on, They rode a lang simmer's day, Until they came to a broad river, An arm of a lonesome sea. 20

"Loup off the steed," says false Sir John; "Your bridal bed you see; For it's seven king's daughters I have drowned here, And the eighth I'll out make with thee.

"Cast off, cast off your silks so fine, 25 And lay them on a stone, For they are o'er good and o'er costly To rot in the salt sea foam.

"Cast off, cast off your Holland smock, And lay it on this stone, 30 For it is too fine and o'er costly To rot in the salt sea foam."

"O turn you about, thou false Sir John, And look to the leaf o' the tree; For it never became a gentleman 35 A naked woman to see."

He's turn'd himself straight round about, To look to the leaf o' the tree; She's twined her arms about his waist, And thrown him into the sea. 40

"O hold a grip of me, May Colvin, For fear that I should drown; I'll take you hame to your father's gates, And safely I'll set you down."

"O lie you there, thou false Sir John, 45 O lie you there," said she; "For you lie not in a caulder bed Than the ane you intended for me."

So she went on her father's steed, As swift as she could flee, 50 And she came hame to her father's gates At the breaking of the day.

Up then spake the pretty parrot: "May Colvin, where have you been? What has become of false Sir John, 55 That wooed you so late yestreen?"

Up then spake the pretty parrot, In the bonnie cage where it lay: "O what hae ye done with the false Sir John, That he behind you does stay? 60

"He wooed you butt, he wooed you ben, He wooed you into the ha', Until he got your own consent For to mount and gang awa'."

"O hold your tongue, my pretty parrot, 65 Lay not the blame upon me; Your cage will be made of the beaten gold, And the spakes of ivorie."

Up then spake the king himself, In the chamber where he lay: 70 "O what ails the pretty parrot, That prattles so long ere day?"

"It was a cat cam to my cage door; I thought 't would have worried me; And I was calling on fair May Colvin 75 To take the cat from me."

BABYLON,

OR,

THE BONNIE BANKS O' FORDIE.

"This ballad is given from two copies obtained from recitation, which differ but little from each other. Indeed, the only variation is in the verse where the outlawed brother unweetingly slays his sister. One reading is,--

'He's taken out his wee penknife, _Hey how bonnie_; And he's twined her o' her ain sweet life, _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_.'

The other reading is that adopted in the text. This ballad is popular in the southern parishes of Perthshire: but where the scene is laid the editor has been unable to ascertain. Nor has any research of his enabled him to throw farther light on the history of its hero with the fantastic name, than what the ballad itself supplies." Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 88.

Another version is subjoined, from Kinloch's collection.

This ballad is found in Danish; _Herr Truels's Doettre_, _Danske Viser_, No. 164. In a note the editor endeavors to show that the story is based on fact!

There were three ladies lived in a bower, _Eh vow bonnie_, And they went out to pull a flower, _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_.

They hadna pu'ed a flower but ane, 5 _Eh vow bonnie_, When up started to them a banisht man, _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_.

He's ta'en the first sister by her hand, _Eh vow bonnie_, 10 And he's turned her round and made her stand, _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_.

"It's whether will ye be a rank robber's wife, _Eh vow bonnie_, Or will ye die by my wee penknife," 15 _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_?

"It's I'll not be a rank robber's wife, _Eh vow bonnie_, But I'll rather die by your wee penknife," _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. 20

He's killed this may and he's laid her by, _Eh vow bonnie_, For to bear the red rose company, _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_.

He's taken the second ane by the hand, 25 _Eh vow bonnie_, And he's turned her round and made her stand, _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_.

"It's whether will ye be a rank robber's wife, _Eh vow bonnie_, 30 Or will ye die by my wee penknife," _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_?

"I'll not be a rank robber's wife, _Eh vow bonnie_, But I'll rather die by your wee penknife," 35 _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_.

He's killed this may and he's laid her by, _Eh vow bonnie_, For to bear the red rose company, _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. 40

He's taken the youngest ane by the hand, _Eh vow bonnie_, And he's turned her round and made her stand, _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_.

Says, "Will ye be a rank robber's wife, 45 _Eh vow bonnie_, Or will ye die by my wee penknife," _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_?

"I'll not be a rank robber's wife, _Eh vow bonnie_, 50 Nor will I die by your wee penknife, _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_.

"For I hae a brother in this wood, _Eh vow bonnie_, And gin ye kill me, it's he'll kill thee," 55 _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_.

"What's thy brother's name? come tell to me," _Eh vow bonnie_; "My brother's name is Babylon," _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. 60

"O sister, sister, what have I done, _Eh vow bonnie_? O have I done this ill to thee, _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_?

"O since I've done this evil deed, 65 _Eh vow bonnie_, Good sall never be seen o' me," _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_.

He's taken out his wee penknife, _Eh vow bonnie_, 70 And he's twyned himsel o' his ain sweet life, _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_.

DUKE OF PERTH'S THREE DAUGHTERS.

From Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 212.

The Duke o' Perth had three daughters, Elizabeth, Margaret, and fair Marie; And Elizabeth's to the greenwud gane, To pu' the rose and the fair lilie.

But she hadna pu'd a rose, a rose, 5 A double rose, but barely three, Whan up and started a Loudon lord, Wi' Loudon hose, and Loudon sheen.

"Will ye be called a robber's wife? Or will ye be stickit wi' my bloody knife? 10 For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, For pu'in them sae fair and free."

"Before I'll be called a robber's wife, I'll rather be stickit wi' your bloody knife, For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, 15 For pu'in them sae fair and free."

Then out he's tane his little penknife, And he's parted her and her sweet life, And thrown her o'er a bank o' brume, There never more for to be found. 20

The Duke o' Perth had three daughters, Elizabeth, Margaret, and fair Marie; And Margaret's to the greenwud gane, To pu' the rose and the fair lilie.

She hadna pu'd a rose, a rose, 25 A double rose, but barely three, When up and started a Loudon lord, Wi' Loudon hose, and Loudon sheen.

"Will ye be called a robber's wife? Or will ye be stickit wi' my bloody knife? 30 For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, For pu'in them sae fair and free."

"Before I'll be called a robber's wife, I'll rather be sticket wi' your bloody knife, For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, 35 For pu'in them sae fair and free."

Then out he's tane his little penknife, And he's parted her and her sweet life, For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, For pu'in them sae fair and free. 40

The Duke o' Perth had three daughters, Elizabeth, Margaret, and fair Marie; And Mary's to the greenwud gane, To pu' the rose and the fair lilie.

She hadna pu'd a rose, a rose, 45 A double rose, but barely three, When up and started a Loudon lord, Wi' Loudon hose, and Loudon sheen.

"O will ye be called a robber's wife? Or will ye be stickit wi' my bloody knife? 50 For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, For pu'in them sae fair and free."

"Before I'll be called a robber's wife, I'll rather be stickit wi' your bloody knife, For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, 55 For pu'in them sae fair and free."

But just as he took out his knife, To tak frae her her ain sweet life, Her brother John cam ryding bye, And this bloody robber he did espy. 60

But when he saw his sister fair, He kenn'd her by her yellow hair; He call'd upon his pages three, To find this robber speedilie.

"My sisters twa that are dead and gane, 65 For whom we made a heavy maene, It's you that's twinn'd them o' their life, And wi' your cruel bloody knife.

Then for their life ye sair shall dree: Ye sall be hangit on a tree, 70 Or thrown into the poison'd lake, To feed the toads and rattle-snake."

JELLON GRAME.

From _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 162.

"This ballad is published from tradition, with some conjectural emendations. It is corrected by a copy in Mrs. Brown's MS., from which it differs in the concluding stanzas. Some verses are apparently modernized.

"_Jellon_ seems to be the same name with _Jyllian_, or _Julian_. 'Jyl of Brentford's Testament' is mentioned in Warton's _History of Poetry_, vol. ii. p. 40. The name repeatedly occurs in old ballads, sometimes as that of a man, at other times as that of a woman. Of the former is an instance in the ballad of _The Knight and the Shepherd's Daughter_. [See this collection, vol. iii. p. 253.]

'Some do call me Jack, sweetheart, And some do call me _Jille_.'

"Witton Gilbert, a village four miles west of Durham, is, throughout the bishopric, pronounced Witton Jilbert. We have also the common name of Giles, always in Scotland pronounced Jill. For Gille, or Juliana, as a female name, we have _Fair Gillian_ of Croyden, and a thousand authorities. Such being the case, the Editor must enter his protest against the conversion of _Gil_ Morrice into _Child_ Maurice, an epithet of chivalry. All the circumstances in that ballad argue, that the unfortunate hero was an obscure and very young man, who had never received the honour of knighthood. At any rate there can be no reason, even were internal evidence totally wanting, for altering a well-known proper name, which, till of late years, has been the uniform title of the ballad." SCOTT.

_May-a-Row_, in Buchan's larger collection, ii. 231, is another, but an inferior, version of this ballad.

O Jellon Grame sat in Silverwood,[L1] He sharp'd his broadsword lang; And he has call'd his little foot-page An errand for to gang.

"Win up, my bonny boy," he says, 5 "As quickly as ye may; For ye maun gang for Lillie Flower Before the break of day."--

The boy has buckled his belt about, And through the green-wood ran; 10 And he came to the ladye's bower Before the day did dawn.

"O sleep ye, wake ye, Lillie Flower? The red sun's on the rain: Ye're bidden come to Silverwood, 15 But I doubt ye'll never win hame."--

She hadna ridden a mile, a mile, A mile but barely three, Ere she came to a new-made grave, Beneath a green aik tree. 20

O then up started Jellon Grame, Out of a bush thereby; "Light down, light down, now, Lillie Flower, For it's here that ye maun lye."--

She lighted aff her milk-white steed, 25 And kneel'd upon her knee; "O mercy, mercy, Jellon Grame, For I'm no prepared to die!

"Your bairn, that stirs between my sides, Maun shortly see the light: 30 But to see it weltering in my blood, Would be a piteous sight."--

"O should I spare your life," he says, "Until that bairn were born, Full weel I ken your auld father 35 Would hang me on the morn."--

"O spare my life, now, Jellon Grame! My father ye needna dread: I'll keep my babe in gude green-wood, Or wi' it I'll beg my bread."-- 40

He took no pity on Lillie Flower, Though she for life did pray; But pierced her through the fair body As at his feet she lay.

He felt nae pity for Lillie Flower, 45 Where she was lying dead; But he felt some for the bonny bairn, That lay weltering in her bluid.

Up has he ta'en that bonny boy, Given him to nurses nine; 50 Three to sleep, and three to wake, And three to go between.

And he bred up that bonny boy, Call'd him his sister's son; And he thought no eye could ever see 55 The deed that he had done.

O so it fell upon a day, When hunting they might be, They rested them in Silverwood, Beneath that green aik tree. 60

And many were the green-wood flowers Upon the grave that grew, And marvell'd much that bonny boy To see their lovely hue.

"What's paler than the prymrose wan? 65 What's redder than the rose? What's fairer than the lilye flower On this wee know that grows?"--

O out and answer'd Jellon Grame, And he spak hastilie-- 70 "Your mother was a fairer flower, And lies beneath this tree.

"More pale she was, when she sought my grace, Than prymrose pale and wan; And redder than rose her ruddy heart's blood, 75 That down my broadsword ran."--

Wi' that the boy has bent his bow, It was baith stout and lang; An thro' and thro' him, Jellon Grame, He gar'd an arrow gang. 80

Says,--"Lie ye there, now, Jellon Grame! My malisoun gang you wi'! The place that my mother lies buried in Is far too good for thee."

1. Silverwood, mentioned in this ballad, occurs in a medley MS. song, which seems to have been copied from the first edition of the Aberdeen Cantus, _penes_ John G. Dalyell, Esq. advocate. One line only is cited, apparently the beginning of some song:--

"Silverwood, gin ye were mine." SCOTT.

YOUNG JOHNSTONE.

A fragment of this fine ballad (which is commonly called _The Cruel Knight_) was published by Herd, (i. 222,) and also by Pinkerton, (_Select Scottish Ballads_, i. 69,) with variations. Finlay constructed a nearly complete edition from two recited copies, but suppressed some lines. (_Scottish Ballads_, ii. 72.) The present copy is one which Motherwell obtained from recitation, with a few verbal emendations by that editor from Finlay's.

With respect to the sudden and strange catastrophe, Motherwell remarks:--

"The reciters of old ballads frequently supply the best commentaries upon them, when any obscurity or want of connection appears in the poetical narrative. This ballad, as it stands, throws no light on young Johnstone's motive for stabbing his lady; but the person from whose lips it was taken down alleged that the barbarous act was committed unwittingly, through young Johnstone's suddenly waking from sleep, and, in that moment of confusion and alarm, unhappily mistaking his mistress for one of his pursuers. It is not improbable but the ballad may have had, at one time, a stanza to the above effect, the substance of which is still remembered, though the words in which it was couched have been forgotten." _Minstrelsy_, p. 193.

Buchan's version, (_Lord John's Murder_, ii. 20,) it will be seen, supplies this deficiency.

Young Johnstone and the young Col'nel Sat drinking at the wine: "O gin ye wad marry my sister, It's I wad marry thine."

"I wadna marry your sister, 5 For a' your houses and land; But I'll keep her for my leman, When I come o'er the strand.

"I wadna marry your sister, For a' your gowd so gay; 10 But I'll keep her for my leman, When I come by the way."

Young Johnstone had a nut-brown sword, Hung low down by his gair, And he ritted[L15] it through the young Col'nel, 15 That word he ne'er spak mair.

But he's awa' to his sister's bower, He's tirled at the pin: "Whare hae ye been, my dear brither, Sae late a coming in?" 20 "I hae been at the school, sister, Learning young clerks to sing."

"I've dreamed a dreary dream this night, I wish it may be for good; They were seeking you with hawks and hounds, 25 And the young Col'nel was dead."

"Hawks and hounds they may seek me, As I trow well they be; For I have killed the young Col'nel, And thy own true love was he." 30

"If ye hae killed the young Col'nel, O dule and wae is me; But I wish ye may be hanged on a hie gallows, And hae nae power to flee."

And he's awa' to his true love's bower, 35 He's tirled at the pin: "Whar hae ye been, my dear Johnstone, Sae late a coming in?" "It's I hae been at the school," he says, "Learning young clerks to sing." 40

"I have dreamed a dreary dream," she says, "I wish it may be for good; They were seeking you with hawks and hounds, And the young Col'nel was dead."

"Hawks and hounds they may seek me, 45 As I trow well they be; For I hae killed the young Col'nel, And thy ae brother was he."

"If ye hae killed the young Col'nel, O dule and wae is me; 50 But I care the less for the young Col'nel, If thy ain body be free.

"Come in, come in, my dear Johnstone, Come in and take a sleep; And I will go to my casement, 55 And carefully I will thee keep."

He had not weel been in her bower door, No not for half an hour, When four-and-twenty belted knights Came riding to the bower. 60

"Well may you sit and see, Lady, Well may you sit and say; Did you not see a bloody squire Come riding by this way?"

"What colour were his hawks?" she says, 65 "What colour were his hounds? What colour was the gallant steed That bore him from the bounds?"

"Bloody, bloody were his hawks, And bloody were his hounds; 70 But milk-white was the gallant steed That bore him from the bounds."

"Yes, bloody, bloody were his hawks, And bloody were his hounds; And milk-white was the gallant steed 75 That bore him from the bounds.

"Light down, light down now, gentlemen, And take some bread and wine; And the steed be swift that he rides on, He's past the brig o' Lyne." 80

"We thank you for your bread, fair Lady, We thank you for your wine; But I wad gie thrice three thousand pound, That bloody knight was ta'en."

"Lie still, lie still, my dear Johnstone, 85 Lie still and take a sleep; For thy enemies are past and gone, And carefully I will thee keep."

But young Johnstone had a little wee sword, Hung low down by his gair, 90 And he stabbed it in fair Annet's breast, A deep wound and a sair.

"What aileth thee now, dear Johnstone? What aileth thee at me? Hast thou not got my father's gold, 95 Bot and my mither's fee?"[L96]

"Now live, now live, my dear Ladye, Now live but half an hour, And there's no a leech in a' Scotland But shall be in thy bower." 100

"How can I live, how shall I live? Young Johnstone, do not you see The red, red drops o' my bonny heart's blood Rin trinkling down my knee?

"But take thy harp into thy hand, 105 And harp out owre yon plain, And ne'er think mair on thy true love Than if she had never been."

He hadna weel been out o' the stable, And on his saddle set, 110 Till four-and-twenty broad arrows Were thrilling in his heart.

15. In the copy obtained by the Editor, the word "ritted" did not occur, instead of which the word "stabbed" was used. The "nut-brown sword" was also changed into "a little small sword." MOTHERWELL.

96. Buchan's version furnishes the necessary explanation of Young Johnstone's apparent cruelty:--

"Ohon, alas, my lady gay, To come sae hastilié! I thought it was my deadly foe, Ye had trysted in to me."

YOUNG BENJIE.

From the _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 10. _Bondsey and Maisry_, another version of the same story, from Buchan's collection, is given in the Appendix.

"In this ballad the reader will find traces of a singular superstition, not yet altogether discredited in the wilder parts of Scotland. The lykewake, or watching a dead body, in itself a melancholy office, is rendered, in the idea of the assistants, more dismally awful, by the mysterious horrors of superstition. In the interval betwixt death and interment, the disembodied spirit is supposed to hover round its mortal habitation, and, if invoked by certain rites, retains the power of communicating, through its organs, the cause of its dissolution. Such inquiries, however, are always dangerous, and never to be resorted to, unless the deceased is suspected to have suffered _foul play_, as it is called. It is the more unsafe to tamper with this charm in an unauthorized manner, because the inhabitants of the infernal regions are, at such periods, peculiarly active. One of the most potent ceremonies in the charm, for causing the dead body to speak, is, setting the door ajar, or half open. On this account, the peasants of Scotland sedulously avoid leaving the door ajar, while a corpse lies in the house. The door must either be left wide open, or quite shut; but the first is always preferred, on account of the exercise of hospitality usual on such occasions. The attendants must be likewise careful never to leave the corpse for a moment alone, or, if it is left alone, to avoid, with a degree of superstitious horror, the first sight of it.

"The following story, which is frequently related by the peasants of Scotland, will illustrate the imaginary danger of leaving the door ajar. In former times, a man and his wife lived in a solitary cottage, on one of the extensive Border fells. One day the husband died suddenly; and his wife, who was equally afraid of staying alone by the corpse, or leaving the dead body by itself, repeatedly went to the door, and looked anxiously over the lonely moor for the sight of some person approaching. In her confusion and alarm she accidentally left the door ajar, when the corpse suddenly started up, and sat in the bed, frowning and grinning at her frightfully. She sat alone, crying bitterly, unable to avoid the fascination of the dead man's eye, and too much terrified to break the sullen silence, till a Catholic priest, passing over the wild, entered the cottage. He first set the door quite open, then put his little finger in his mouth, and said the paternoster backwards; when the horrid look of the corpse relaxed, it fell back on the bed, and behaved itself as a dead man ought to do.

"The ballad is given from tradition. I have been informed by a lady, [Miss Joanna Baillie,] of the highest literary eminence, that she has heard a ballad on the same subject, in which the scene was laid upon the banks of the Clyde. The chorus was,

"O Bothwell banks bloom bonny,"

and the watching of the dead corpse was said to have taken place in Bothwell church." SCOTT.

Of a' the maids o' fair Scotland, The fairest was Marjorie; And young Benjie was her ae true love, And a dear true love was he.

And wow but they were lovers dear, 5 And loved fu' constantlie; But aye the mair when they fell out, The sairer was their plea.

And they hae quarrell'd on a day, Till Marjorie's heart grew wae; 10 And she said she'd chuse another luve, And let young Benjie gae.

And he was stout, and proud-hearted, And thought o't bitterlie; And he's gane by the wan moonlight, 15 To meet his Marjorie.

"O open, open, my true love, O open, and let me in!"-- "I darena open, young Benjie, My three brothers are within."-- 20

"Ye lied, ye lied, ye bonny burd, Sae loud's I hear ye lie; As I came by the Lowden banks, They bade gude e'en to me.

"But fare ye weel, my ae fause love, 25 That I have loved sae lang! It sets ye chuse another love, And let young Benjie gang."--

Then Marjorie turn'd her round about, The tear blinding her ee,-- 30 "I darena, darena let thee in, But I'll come down to thee."--

Then saft she smiled, and said to him, "O what ill hae I done?"-- He took her in his armis twa, 35 And threw her o'er the linn.

The stream was strang, the maid was stout, And laith, laith to be dang, But, ere she wan the Lowden banks, Her fair colour was wan. 40

Then up bespak her eldest brother, "O see na ye what I see?"-- And out then spak her second brother, "It's our sister Marjorie!"--

Out then spak her eldest brother, 45 "O how shall we her ken?"-- And out then spak her youngest brother, "There's a honey mark on her chin."--

Then they've ta'en up the comely corpse, And laid it on the ground: 50 "O wha has killed our ae sister, And how can he be found?

"The night it is her low lykewake, The morn her burial day, And we maun watch at mirk midnight, 55 And hear what she will say."--

Wi' doors ajar, and candle light, And torches burning clear, The streikit corpse, till still midnight, They waked, but naething hear. 60

About the middle o' the night, The cocks began to craw; And at the dead hour o' the night, The corpse began to thraw.

"O whae has done the wrang, sister, 65 Or dared the deadly sin? Whae was sae stout, and fear'd nae dout, As thraw ye o'er the linn?"

"Young Benjie was the first ae man I laid my love upon; 70 He was sae stout and proud-hearted, He threw me o'er the linn."--

"Sall we young Benjie head, sister, Sall we young Benjie hang, Or sall we pike out his twa gray een, 75 And punish him ere he gang?"

"Ye maunna Benjie head, brothers, Ye maunna Benjie hang, But ye maun pike out his twa gray een, And punish him ere he gang. 80

"Tie a green gravat round his neck, And lead him out and in, And the best ae servant about your house To wait young Benjie on.

"And aye, at every seven years' end, 85 Ye'l tak him to the linn; For that's the penance he maun dree, To scug his deadly sin."

APPENDIX.

LORD BARNABY.

Scottish version of _Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard_. See p. 15.

From Jamieson's _Popular Ballads and Songs_, i. 170.

"I have a tower in Dalisberry, Which now is dearly dight, And I will gie it to young Musgrave To lodge wi' me a' night."

"To lodge wi' thee a' night, fair lady, 5 Wad breed baith sorrow and strife; For I see by the rings on your fingers, You're good lord Barnaby's wife."

"Lord Barnaby's wife although I be, Yet what is that to thee? 10 For we'll beguile him for this ae night-- He's on to fair Dundee.

"Come here, come here, my little foot-page, This gold I will give thee, If ye will keep thir secrets close 15 'Tween young Musgrave and me.

"But here I hae a little pen-knife, Hings low down by my gare; Gin ye winna keep thir secrets close, Ye'll find it wonder sair." 20

Then she's ta'en him to her chamber, And down in her arms lay he: The boy coost aff his hose and shoon, And ran to fair Dundee.

When he cam to the wan water, 25 He slack'd[L26] his bow and swam; And when he cam to growin grass, Set down his feet and ran.

And when he cam to fair Dundee, Wad neither chap nor ca'; 30 But set his brent[L31] bow to his breast, And merrily jump'd the wa'.

"O waken ye, waken ye, my good lord, Waken, and come away!"-- "What ails, what ails my wee foot-page, 35 He cries sae lang ere day.

"O is my bowers brent, my boy? Or is my castle won? Or has the lady that I lo'e best Brought me a daughter or son?" 40

"Your ha's are safe, your bowers are safe, And free frae all alarms; But, oh! the lady that ye lo'e best Lies sound in Musgrave's arms."

"Gae saddle to me the black," he cried, 45 "Gae saddle to me the gray; Gae saddle to me the swiftest steed, To hie me on my way."

"O lady, I heard a wee horn toot, And it blew wonder clear; 50 And ay the turning o' the note, Was, 'Barnaby will be here!'

"I thought I heard a wee horn blaw, And it blew loud and high; And ay at ilka turn it said, 55 'Away, Musgrave, away!'"

"Lie still, my dear; lie still, my dear; Ye keep me frae the cold; For it is but my father's shepherds Driving their flocks to the fold." 60

Up they lookit, and down they lay, And they're fa'en sound asleep; Till up stood good lord Barnaby, Just close at their bed feet.

"How do you like my bed, Musgrave? 65 And how like ye my sheets? And how like ye my fair lady, Lies in your arms and sleeps?

"Weel like I your bed, my lord, And weel like I your sheets; 70 But ill like I your fair lady, Lies in my arms and sleeps.

"You got your wale o' se'en sisters, And I got mine o' five; Sae tak ye mine, and I's tak thine, 75 And we nae mair sall strive."

"O my woman's the best woman That ever brak world's bread; And your woman's the worst woman That ever drew coat o'er head. 80

"I hae twa swords in ae scabbert, They are baith sharp and clear; Take ye the best, and I the warst, And we'll end the matter here.

"But up, and arm thee, young Musgrave, 85 We'll try it han' to han'; It's ne'er be said o' lord Barnaby, He strack at a naked man."

The first straik that young Musgrave got, It was baith deep and sair; 90 And down he fell at Barnaby's feet, And word spak never mair.

* * * * * *

"A grave, a grave!" lord Barnaby cried, "A grave to lay them in; My lady shall lie on the sunny side, 95 Because of her noble kin."

But oh, how sorry was that good lord, For a' his angry mood, Whan he beheld his ain young son All welt'ring in his blood! 100

26. For _slack'd_ read _bent_. J.

[NOTE.] [In v. 31] the term "_braid_ bow" has been altered by the editor into "_brent_ bow," i. e. _straight_, or _unbent_ bow. In most of the old ballads, where a page is employed as the bearer of a message, we are told, that,

"When he came to wan water, He _bent_ his bow and swam;"

And

"He set his _bent_ bow to his breast, And lightly lap the wa'," &c.

The application of the term _bent_, in the latter instance, does not seem correct, and is probably substituted for _brent_.

In the establishment of a feudal baron, every thing wore a military aspect; he was a warrior by profession; every man attached to him, particularly those employed about his person, was a soldier; and his little foot-page was very appropriately equipped in the light accoutrements of an archer. His bow, in the old ballad, seems as inseparable from his character as the bow of Cupid or of Apollo, or the caduceus of his celestial prototype Mercury. This bow, which he carried unbent, he seems to have _bent_ when he had occasion to swim, in order that he might the more easily carry it in his teeth, to prevent the string from being injured by getting wet. At other times he availed himself of its length and elasticity in the _brent_, or straight state, and used it (as hunters do a leaping pole) in vaulting over the wall of the outer court of a castle, when his business would not admit of the tedious formality of blowing a horn, or ringing a bell, and holding a long parley with the porter at the gate, before he could gain admission. This, at least, appears to the editor to be the meaning of these passages in the old ballads. JAMIESON.

CHILDE MAURICE. See p. 30.

From Jamieson's _Popular Ballads and Songs_, i. 8.

Childe Maurice hunted i' the silver[L1] wood, He hunted it round about, And noebody yt he found theren, Nor noebody without.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * And tooke his silver combe in his hand 5 To kembe his yellow lockes.

He sayes, "come hither, thou litle footpage, That runneth lowly by my knee; Ffor thou shalt goe to John Steward's wiffe, And pray her speake with mee. 10

"And as it ffalls out,[L11] many times As knotts been knitt on a kell, Or merchant men gone to leeve London, Either to buy ware or sell,

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * And grete thou doe that ladye well, 15 Ever soe well ffroe mee.

"And as it ffalls out, many times As any harte can thinke, As schoole masters are in any schoole house, Writting with pen and inke, 20

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * Ffor if I might as well as shee may, This night I wold with her speake.

"And heere I send a mantle of greene, As greene as any grasse, And bid her come to the silver wood,[L25] 25 To hunt with Child Maurice.

"And there I send her a ring of gold, A ring of precyous stone; And bid her come to the silver wood, Let for no kind of man." 30

One while this litle boy he yode, Another while he ran; Until he came to John Steward's hall, Iwis he never blan.

And of nurture the child had good; 35 He ran up hall and bower ffree, And when he came to this lady ffaire, Sayes, "God you save and see.

"I am come ffrom Childe Maurice, A message unto thee, 40 And Childe Maurice he greetes you well, And ever soe well ffrom me.

"And as it ffalls out, oftentimes As knotts been knitt on a kell, Or merchant men gone to leeve London 45 Either to buy or sell;

"And as oftentimes he greetes you well, As any hart can thinke, Or schoolemaster in any schoole, Wryting with pen and inke. 50

"And heere he sends a mantle of greene, As greene as any grasse, And he bidds you come to the silver wood, To hunt with child Maurice.

"And heere he sends you a ring of gold, 55 A ring of precyous stone; He prayes you to come to the silver wood, Let for no kind of man."

"Now peace, now peace, thou litle fotpage, Ffor Christes sake I pray thee; 60 Ffor if my lord heare one of those words, Thou must be hanged hye."

John Steward stood under the castle wall, And he wrote the words every one; * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

And he called unto his horssekeeper, 65 "Make ready you my steede;" And soe he did to his chamberlaine, "Make readye then my weed."

And he cast a lease upon his backe, And he rode to the silver wood, 70 And there he sought all about, About the silver wood.

And there he found him Childe Maurice, Sitting upon a blocke, With a silver combe in his hand, 75 Kembing his yellow locke.

He sayes, "how now, how now, Childe Maurice, Alacke how may this bee?" But then stood by him Childe Maurice, And sayd these words trulye: 80

"I do not know your ladye," he said, "If that I doe her see." "Ffor thou hast sent her love tokens, More now than two or three.

"For thou hast sent her a mantle of greene, 85 As greene as any grasse, And bade her come to the silver wood, To hunt with Childe Maurice.

"And by my faith now, Childe Maurice, The tane of us shall dye;" 90 "Now by my troth," sayd Childe Maurice, "And that shall not be I."

But he pulled out a bright browne sword, And dryed it on the grasse, And soe fast he smote at John Steward, 95 Iwis he never rest.

Then hee pulled forth his bright browne sword, And dryed itt on his sleeve, And the ffirst good stroke John Steward stroke, Child Maurice head he did cleeve. 100

And he pricked it on his swords poynt, Went singing there beside, And he rode till he came to the ladye ffaire, Whereas his ladye lyed.

And sayes, "dost thou know Child Maurice head, 105 Iff that thou dost it see? And llap it soft, and kisse itt offt, Ffor thou lovedst him better than mee."

But when shee looked on Child Maurice head, Shee never spake words but three: 110 "I never beare noe child but one, And you have slain him trulye."

Sayes, "wicked be my merry men all, I gave meate, drinke, and clothe; But cold they not have holden me, 115 When I was in all that wrath!

"Ffor I have slaine one of the courteousest knights That ever bestrode a steede; Soe have I done one of the fairest ladyes That ever ware womans weede." 120

1. MS. silven. See vv. 25, 53, 70, 72.

11. out out.

25. Sic in MS.

CLERK SAUNDERS. See p. 45.

From Jamieson's _Popular Ballads and Songs_, i. 83.

"The following copy was transmitted by Mrs. Arrott of Aberbrothick. The stanzas, where the seven brothers are introduced, have been enlarged from two fragments, which, although very defective in themselves, furnished lines which, when incorporated with the text, seemed to improve it. Stanzas 21 and 22, were written by the editor; the idea of the _rose_ being suggested by the gentleman who recited, but who could not recollect the language in which it was expressed."

This copy of _Clerk Saunders_ bears traces of having been made up from several sources. A portion of the concluding stanzas (v. 107-130) have a strong resemblance to the beginning and end of _Proud Lady Margaret_ (vol. viii. 83, 278), which ballad is itself in a corrupt condition. It may also be doubted whether the fragments Jamieson speaks of did not belong to a ballad resembling _Lady Maisry_, p. 78 of this volume.

Accepting the ballad as it stands here, there is certainly likeness enough in the first part to suggest a community of origin with the Swedish ballad _Den Grymma Brodern_, _Svenska Folk-Visor_, No. 86 (translated in _Lit. and Rom. of Northern Europe_, p. 261). W. Grimm mentions (_Altdän. Heldenl._, p. 519) a Spanish ballad, _De la Blanca Niña_, in the _Romancero de Amberes_, in which the similarity to _Den Grymma Brodern_ is very striking. The series of questions (v. 30-62) sometimes appears apart from the story, and with a comic turn, as in _Det Hurtige Svar_, _Danske V._, No. 204, or _Thore och hans Syster_, Arwidsson, i. 358. In this shape they closely resemble the familiar old song, _Our gudeman came hame at e'en_, Herd, _Scottish Songs_, ii. 74.

Clerk Saunders was an earl's son, He liv'd upon sea-sand; May Margaret was a king's daughter, She liv'd in upper land.

Clerk Saunders was an earl's son, 5 Weel learned at the scheel; May Margaret was a king's daughter; They baith lo'ed ither weel.

He's throw the dark, and throw the mark, And throw the leaves o' green; 10 Till he came to May Margaret's door, And tirled at the pin.

"O sleep ye, wake ye, May Margaret, Or are ye the bower within?" "O wha is that at my bower door, 15 Sae weel my name does ken?" "It's I, Clerk Saunders, your true love, You'll open and lat me in.

"O will ye to the cards, Margaret, Or to the table to dine? 20 Or to the bed, that's weel down spread, And sleep when we get time."

"I'll no go to the cards," she says, "Nor to the table to dine; But I'll go to a bed, that's weel down spread, 25 And sleep when we get time."

They were not weel lyen down, And no weel fa'en asleep, When up and stood May Margaret's brethren, Just up at their bed feet. 30

"O tell us, tell us, May Margaret, And dinna to us len, O wha is aught yon noble steed, That stands your stable in?

"The steed is mine, and it may be thine, 35 To ride whan ye ride in hie----

* * * * * * *

"But awa', awa', my bald brethren, Awa', and mak nae din; For I am as sick a lady the nicht As e'er lay a bower within." 40

"O tell us, tell us, May Margaret, And dinna to us len, O wha is aught yon noble hawk, That stands your kitchen in?"

"The hawk is mine, and it may be thine, 45 To hawk whan ye hawk in hie----

* * * * * * *

"But awa', awa', my bald brethren! Awa', and mak nae din; For I'm ane o' the sickest ladies this nicht That e'er lay a bower within." 50

"O tell us, tell us, May Margaret, And dinna to us len, O wha is that, May Margaret, You and the wa' between?"

"O it is my bower-maiden," she says, 55 "As sick as sick can be; O it is my bower maiden," she says, And she's thrice as sick as me."

"We hae been east, and we've been west, And low beneath the moon; 60 But a' the bower-women e'er we saw Hadna goud buckles in their shoon."

Then up and spak her eldest brither, Ay in ill time spak he: "It is Clerk Saunders, your true love, 65 And never mat I the, But for this scorn that he has done, This moment he sall die."

But up and spak her youngest brother, Ay in good time spak he: 70 "O but they are a gudelie pair!-- True lovers an ye be, The sword that hangs at my sword belt Sall never sinder ye!"

Syne up and spak her nexten brother, 75 And the tear stood in his ee: "You've lo'ed her lang, and lo'ed her weel, And pity it wad be, The sword that hangs at my sword-belt Shoud ever sinder ye!" 80

But up and spak her fifthen brother, "Sleep on your sleep for me; But we baith sall never sleep again, For the tane o' us sall die!"

[But up and spak her midmaist brother; 85 And an angry laugh leugh he: "The thorn that dabs, I'll cut it down, Though fair the rose may be.

"The flower that smell'd sae sweet yestreen Has lost its bloom wi' thee; 90 And though I'm wae it should be sae, Clerk Saunders, ye maun die."]

And up and spak her thirden brother, Ay in ill time spak he: "Curse on his love and comeliness!-- 95 Dishonour'd as ye be, The sword that hangs at my sword-belt Sall quickly sinder ye!"

Her eldest brother has drawn his sword; Her second has drawn anither; 100 Between Clerk Saunders' hause and collar bane The cald iron met thegither.

"O wae be to you, my fause brethren, And an ill death mat ye die! Ye mith slain Clerk Saunders in open field, 105 And no in the bed wi' me."

When seven years were come and gane, Lady Margaret she thought lang; And she is up to the hichest tower, By the lee licht o' the moon. 110

She was lookin o'er her castle high, To see what she might fa'; And there she saw a grieved ghost Comin waukin o'er the wa'.[L114]

"O are ye a man of mean," she says, 115 "Seekin ony o' my meat? Or are you a rank robber, Come in my bower to break?"

"O I'm Clerk Saunders, your true love; Behold, Margaret, and see, 120 And mind, for a' your meikle pride, Sae will become of thee."

"Gin ye be Clerk Saunders, my true love, This meikle marvels me: O wherein is your bonny arms 125 That wont to embrace me?"

"By worms they're eaten, in mools they're rotten, Behold, Margaret, and see; And mind, for a' your mickle pride, Sae will become o' thee!" 130

* * * * * * *

O, bonny, bonny sang the bird, Sat on the coil o' hay; But dowie, dowie was the maid, That follow'd the corpse o' clay.

"Is there ony room at your head, Saunders, 135 Is there ony room at your feet? Is there ony room at your twa sides, For a lady to lie and sleep?"

"There is nae room at my head, Margaret, As little at my feet; 140 There is nae room at my twa sides, For a lady to lie and sleep.

"But gae hame, gae hame, now, May Margaret, Gae hame and sew your seam; For if ye were laid in your weel-made bed, 145 Your days will nae be lang."

114. The _wa'_ here is supposed to mean the wall, which, in some old castles, surrounded the court. J.

LORD WA'YATES AND AULD INGRAM.

A FRAGMENT. See p. 72.

Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, ii. 265.

"From Mr. Herd's MS., transmitted by Mr. Scott."

Lady Maisery was a lady fair, She made her mother's bed; Auld Ingram was an aged knight, And her he sought to wed.

"Its I forbid ye, auld Ingram, 5 For to seek me to spouse; For Lord Wa'yates, your sister's son, Has been into my bowers.

"Its I forbid ye, auld Ingram, For to seek me to wed; 10 For Lord Wa'yates, your sister's son, Has been into my bed."

He has brocht to this ladie The robis of the brown; And ever, "Alas!" says this ladie, 15 "Thae robes will put me down."

And he has brocht to that ladie The robis of the red; And ever, "Alas!" says that ladie, "Thae robes will be my dead." 20

And he has brocht to that ladie The chrystal and the laumer; Sae has he brocht to her mither The curches o' the cannel.

Every ane o' her seven brethren 25 They had a hawk in hand, And every lady in the place They got a goud garland.

Every cuik in that kitchen They got a noble claith; 30 A' was blyth at auld Ingram's coming, But Lady Maisery was wraith.

"Whare will I get a bonny boy, Wad fain win hose and shoon, That wad rin on to my Wa'yates, 35 And quickly come again?"

"Here am I, a bonny boy, Wad fain win hose and shoon; Wha will rin on to your Wa'yates, And quickly come again." 40

"Ye'll bid him, and ye'll pray him baith, Gin ony prayer may dee, To Marykirk to come the morn, My weary wadding to see."

Lord Wa'yates lay o'er his castle wa', 45 Beheld baith dale and down; And he beheld a bonny boy Come running to the town.

"What news, what news, ye bonny boy? What news hae ye to me? 50 * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"O are my ladie's fauldis brunt, Or are her towers won? Or is my Maisery lichter yet O' a dear dochter or son?"

"Your ladie's faulds are neither brunt, 55 Nor are her towers won; Nor is your Maisery lichter yet O' a dear dochter or son:

"But she bids you, and she prays you baith, Gin ony prayer can dee, 60 To Mary Kirk to come the morn, Her weary wadding to see."

He dang the buird up wi' his fit, Sae did he wi' his knee; The silver cup, that was upon't, 65 I' the fire he gar'd it flee: "O whatten a lord in a' Scotland Dare marry my Maisery?

"O it is but a feeble thocht, To tell the tane and nae the tither; 70 O it is but a feeble thocht To tell it's your ain mither's brither."

"Its I will send to that wadding, And I will follow syne, The fitches o' the fallow deer, 75 And the gammons o' the swine; And the nine hides o' the noble cow-- 'Twas slain in season time.

"Its I will send to that wadding Ten tun o' the red wine; 80 And mair I'll send to that waddin', And I will follow syne."

Whan he came in into the ha', Lady Maisery she did ween; And twenty times he kist her mou', 85 Afore auld Ingram's een.

And till the kirk she wadna gae, Nor tillt she wadna ride, Till four-and-twenty men she gat her before, And twenty on ilka side, 90 And four-and-twenty milk white dows, To flee aboon her head.

A loud lauchter gae Lord Wa'yates, 'Mang the mids o' his men; "Marry that lady wha that will, 95 A maiden she is nane."

"O leuch ye at my men, Wa'yates, Or did ye lauch at me? Or leuch ye at the bierdly bride, That's gaun to marry me?" 100

"I leuchna at your men, uncle, Nor yet leuch I at thee; But I leuch at my lands so braid, Sae weel's I do them see."

When e'en was come, and e'en-bells rung, 105 And a' man gane to bed, The bride but and the silly bridegroom In ae chamber were laid.

Wasna't a fell thing for to see Twa heads upon a cod; 110 Lady Maisery's like the mo'ten goud, Auld Ingram's like a toad.

He turn'd his face unto the stock, And sound he fell asleep; She turn'd her face unto the wa', 115 And saut tears she did weep.

It fell about the mirk midnicht, Auld Ingram began to turn him; He put his hand on's ladie's side, And waly, sair was she mournin'. 120

"What aileth thee, my lady dear? Ever alas, and wae is me! There is a babe betwixt thy sides,-- Oh! sae sair's it grieves me!"

"O didna I tell ye, auld Ingram, 125 Ere ye socht me to wed, That Lord Wa'yates, your sister's son, Had been into my bed?"

"Then father that bairn on me, Maisery, O father that bairn on me; 130 And ye sall hae a rigland shire Your mornin' gift to be."

"O sarbit!" says the Ladie Maisery, "That ever the like me befa', To father my bairn on auld Ingram, 135 Lord Wa'yates in my father's ha'.

"O sarbit!" says the Ladie Maisery, "That ever the like betide, To father my bairn on auld Ingram, And Lord Wa'yates beside." 140

* * * * * * *

SWEET WILLIE AND FAIR MAISRY. See p. 79.

From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 97.

"Hey love Willie, and how love Willie, And Willie my love shall be; They're thinking to sinder our lang love, Willie; It's mair than man can dee.

"Ye'll mount me quickly on a steed, 5 A milk-white steed or gray; And carry me on to gude greenwood Before that it be day."

He mounted her upon a steed, He chose a steed o' gray; 10 He had her on to gude greenwood Before that it was day.

"O will ye gang to the cards, Meggie? Or will ye gang wi' me? Or will ye ha'e a bower woman, 15 To stay ere it be day?"

"I winna gang to the cards," she said, "Nor will I gae wi' thee, Nor will I hae a bower woman, To spoil my modestie. 20

"Ye'll gie me a lady at my back, An' a lady me beforn; An' a midwife at my twa sides Till your young son be born.

"Ye'll do me up, and further up, 25 To the top o' yon greenwood tree; For every pain myself shall ha'e, The same pain ye maun drie."

The first pain that did strike sweet Willie, It was into the side; 30 Then sighing sair said sweet Willie, "These pains are ill to bide."

The nextan pain that strake sweet Willie, It was into the back; Then sighing sair said sweet Willie, 35 "These pains are women's wreck."

The nextan pain that strake sweet Willie, It was into the head; Then sighing sair said sweet Willie, "I fear my lady's dead." 40

Then he's gane on, and further on, At the foot o' yon greenwood tree; There he got his lady lighter, Wi' his young son on her knee.

Then he's ta'en up his little young son, 45 And kiss'd him cheek and chin; And he is on to his mother, As fast as he could gang.

"Ye will take in my son, mother, Gi'e him to nurses nine; 50 Three to wauk, and three to sleep, And three to gang between."

Then he has left his mother's house, And frae her he has gane; And he is back to his lady, 55 And safely brought her hame.

Then in it came her father dear, Was belted in a brand; "It's nae time for brides to lye in bed, When the bridegroom's send's in town. 60

"There are four-and-twenty noble lords A' lighted on the green; The fairest knight amang them a', He must be your bridegroom."

"O wha will shoe my foot, my foot? 65 And wha will glove my hand? And wha will prin my sma' middle, Wi' the short prin and the lang?"

Now out it speaks him, sweet Willie, Who knew her troubles best; 70 "It is my duty for to serve, As I'm come here as guest.

"Now I will shoe your foot, Maisry, And I will glove your hand, And I will prin your sma' middle, 75 Wi' the sma' prin and the lang."

"Wha will saddle my steed," she says, "And gar my bridle ring? And wha will ha'e me to gude church-door, This day I'm ill abound?" 80

"I will saddle your steed, Maisry, And gar your bridle ring; And I'll hae you to gude church-door, And safely set you down."

"O healy, healy take me up, 85 And healy set me down; And set my back until a wa', My foot to yird-fast stane."

He healy took her frae her horse, And healy set her down; 90 And set her back until a wa', Her foot to yird-fast stane.

When they had eaten and well drunken, And a' had thorn'd fine; The bride's father he took the cup, 95 For to serve out the wine.

Out it speaks the bridegroom's brother, An ill death mat he die! "I fear our bride she's born a bairn, Or else has it a dee." 100

She's ta'en out a Bible braid, And deeply has she sworn; "If I ha'e born a bairn," she says, "Sin' yesterday at morn;

"Or if I've born a bairn," she says, 105 "Sin' yesterday at noon; There's nae a lady amang you a' That wou'd been here sae soon."

Then out it spake the bridegroom's man, Mischance come ower his heel! 110 "Win up, win up, now bride," he says, "And dance a shamefu' reel."[L112]

Then out it speaks the bride hersell, And a sorry heart had she; "Is there nae ane amang you a' 115 Will dance this dance for me?"

Then out it speaks him, sweet Willie, And he spake aye thro' pride; "O draw my boots for me, bridegroom, Or I dance for your bride." 120

Then out it spake the bride hersell, "O na, this maunna be; For I will dance this dance mysell, Tho' my back shou'd gang in three."

She hadna well gane thro' the reel, 125 Nor yet well on the green, Till she fell down at Willie's feet As cauld as ony stane.

He's ta'en her in his arms twa, And ha'ed her up the stair; 130 Then up it came her jolly bridegroom, Says, "What's your business there?"

Then Willie lifted up his foot, And dang him down the stair; And brake three ribs o' the bridegroom's side, 135 And a word he spake nae mair.

Nae meen was made for that lady, When she was lying dead; But a' was for him, sweet Willie, On the fields for he ran mad. 140

112. The first reel, danced with the bride, her maiden, and two young men, and called the Shame Spring, or Reel, as the bride chooses the tune that is to be played. B.

LADY MARJORIE. See p. 92.

"Given from the recitation of an old woman in Kilbarchan, Renfrewshire, from whom the Editor has obtained several valuable pieces of a like nature. In singing, O is added at the end of the second and fourth line of each stanza." Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 234.

Lady Marjorie was her mother's only daughter, Her father's only heir; And she is awa to Strawberry Castle, To get some unco lair.

She had na been in Strawberry Castle 5 A twelvemonth and a day, Till Lady Marjorie she gangs big wi' child, As big as she can gae.

Word is to her father gane, Before he got on his shoon, 10 That Lady Marjorie she gaes wi' child, And it is to an Irish groom.

But word is to her mother gone, Before she got on her goun, That Lady Marjorie she gaes wi' child 15 To a lord of high renown.

"O wha will put on the pat," they said, "Or wha will put on the pan, Or wha will put on a bauld, bauld fire, To burn Lady Marjorie in?" 20

Her father he put on the pat, Her sister put on the pan, And her brother he put on a bauld, bauld fire, To burn Lady Marjorie in; And her mother she sat in a golden chair, 25 To see her daughter burn.

"But where will I get a pretty little boy, That will win hose and shoon; That will go quickly to Strawberry Castle, And bid my lord come doun?" 30

"O here am I, a pretty little boy, That will win hose and shoon; That will rin quickly to Strawberry Castle, And bid thy lord come doun."

O when he cam to broken brigs, 35 He bent his bow and swam; And when he cam to gude dry land, He set doun his foot and ran.

When he cam to Strawberry Castle, He tirled at the pin; 40 Nane was sae ready as the gay lord himsell To open and let him in.

"O is there any of my towers burnt, Or any of my castles won? Or is Lady Marjorie brought to bed, 45 Of a daughter or a son?"

"O there is nane of thy towers burnt, Nor nane of thy castles broken; But Lady Marjorie is condemned to die, To be burnt in a fire of oaken." 50

"O gar saddle to me the black," he says, "Gar saddle to me the broun; Gar saddle to me the swiftest steed That e'er carried a man frae toun!"

He left the black into the slap, 55 The broun into the brae; But fair fa' that bonnie apple-gray That carried this gay lord away!

"Beet on, beet on, my brother dear, I value you not one straw; 60 For yonder comes my ain true luve, I hear his horn blaw.

"Beet on, beet on, my father dear, I value you not a pin; For yonder comes my ain true luve, 65 I hear his bridle ring."

He took a little horn out of his pocket, And he blew't baith loud and schill; And wi' the little life that was in her, She hearken'd to it full weel. 70

But when he came into the place, He lap unto the wa'; He thought to get a kiss o' her bonnie lips, But her body fell in twa!

"O vow! O vow! O vow!" he said, 75 "O vow! but ye've been cruel: Ye've taken the timber out of my ain wood, And burnt my ain dear jewel!

"Now for thy sake, Lady Marjorie, I'll burn baith father and mother; 80 And for thy sake, Lady Marjorie, I'll burn baith sister and brother.

"And for thy sake, Lady Marjorie, I'll burn baith kith and kin; But I'll aye remember the pretty little boy 85 That did thy errand rin."

LEESOME BRAND.

Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 38. This is properly a tragic story, as may be perceived by comparing the present corrupted version (evidently made up from several different sources) with the Danish and Swedish ballads. See _Herr Medelvold_, _Danske Viser_, iii. 361, _Die wahrsagenden Nachtigallen_, in Grimm's _Altdänische Heldenlieder_, p. 88, _Fair Midel and Kirsten Lyle_, translated by Jamieson, _Illustrations_, p. 377; and _Herr Redevall_, _Svenska Folkvisor_, ii. 189, _Krist' Lilla och Herr Tideman_, Arwidsson, i. 352, _Sir Wal and Lisa Lyle_, translated by Jamieson, p. 373.

My boy was scarcely ten years auld, Whan he went to an unco land, Where wind never blew, nor cocks ever crew, Ohon! for my son, Leesome Brand.

Awa' to that king's court he went, 5 It was to serve for meat an' fee; Gude red gowd it was his hire, And lang in that king's court stay'd he.

He hadna been in that unco land, But only twallmonths twa or three; 10 Till by the glancing o' his ee, He gain'd the love o' a gay ladye.

This ladye was scarce eleven years auld, When on her love she was right bauld; She was scarce up to my right knee, 15 When oft in bed wi' men I'm tauld.

But when nine months were come and gane, This ladye's face turn'd pale and wane; To Leesome Brand she then did say, "In this place I can nae mair stay. 20

"Ye do you to my father's stable, Where steeds do stand baith wight and able; Strike ane o' them upo' the back, The swiftest will gie his head a wap.

"Ye take him out upo' the green, 25 And get him saddled and bridled seen; Get ane for you, anither for me, And lat us ride out ower the lee.

"Ye do you to my mother's coffer, And out of it ye'll take my tocher; 30 Therein are sixty thousand pounds, Which all to me by right belongs."

He's done him to her father's stable, Where steeds stood baith wicht and able; Then he strake ane upon the back, 35 The swiftest gae his head a wap.

He's ta'en him out upo' the green, And got him saddled and bridled seen; Ane for him, and another for her, To carry them baith wi' might and virr. 40

He's done him to her mother's coffer, And there he's taen his lover's tocher; Wherein were sixty thousand pounds, Which all to her by right belong'd.

When they had ridden about six mile, 45 His true love then began to fail; "O wae's me," said that gay ladye, "I fear my back will gang in three!

"O gin I had but a gude midwife,[L49] Here this day to save my life, 50 And ease me o' my misery, O dear, how happy I wou'd be!"

"My love, we're far frae ony town; There is nae midwife to be foun'; But if ye'll be content wi' me, 55 I'll do for you what man can dee."

"For no, for no, this maunna be," Wi' a sigh, replied this gay ladye; "When I endure my grief and pain, My companie ye maun refrain. 60

"Ye'll take your arrow and your bow, And ye will hunt the deer and roe; Be sure ye touch not the white hynde, For she is o' the woman kind."

He took sic pleasure in deer and roe, 65 Till he forgot his gay ladye; Till by it came that milk-white hynde, And then he mind on his ladye syne.

He hasted him to yon greenwood tree, For to relieve his gay ladye; 70 But found his ladye lying dead, Likeways her young son at her head.

His mother lay ower her castle wa', And she beheld baith dale and down; And she beheld young Leesome Brand, 75 As he came riding to the town.

"Get minstrels for to play," she said, "And dancers to dance in my room; For here comes my son, Leesome Brand, And he comes merrilie to the town." 80

"Seek nae minstrels to play, mother, Nor dancers to dance in your room; But tho' your son comes, Leesome Brand, Yet he comes sorry to the town.

"O I hae lost my gowden knife, 85 I rather had lost my ain sweet life; And I hae lost a better thing, The gilded sheath that it was in."

"Are there nae gowdsmiths here in Fife, Can make to you anither knife? 90 Are there nae sheath-makers in the land, Can make a sheath to Leesome Brand?"

"There are nae gowdsmiths here in Fife, Can make me sic a gowden knife; Nor nae sheath-makers in the land, 95 Can make to me a sheath again.

"There ne'er was man in Scotland born, Ordain'd to be so much forlorn; I've lost my ladye I lov'd sae dear, Likeways the son she did me bear." 100

"Put in your hand at my bed head, There ye'll find a gude grey horn; In it three draps o' Saint Paul's ain blude, That hae been there sin' he was born.

"Drap twa o' them o' your ladye, 105 And ane upo' your little young son; Then as lively they will be As the first night ye brought them hame."

He put his hand at her bed head, And there he found a gude grey horn; 110 Wi' three draps o' Saint Paul's ain blude, That had been there sin' he was born.

Then he drapp'd twa on his ladye, And ane o' them on his young son; And now they do as lively be, 115 As the first day he brought them hame.

NOTE to v. 49-72.--A similar passage is found at p. 94 of this volume, v. 33-36, also vol. v. p. 178, v. 97-108, and p. 402, v. 169-176, and in the Scandinavian ballads cited in the preface to this ballad. In these last the lady frees herself from the presence of the knight by sending him to get her some water, and she is found dead on his return. This incident, remarks Grimm, (_Altdänische Heldenlieder_, p. 508), is also found in _Wolfdietrich_, Str. 1680-96.

THE YOUTH OF ROSENGORD. See p. 219.

_Sven i Rosengård_, _Svenska Folk-Visor_, iii. 3, and Arwidsson's _Fornsånger_, ii. 83: translated in _Literature and Romance of Northern Europe_, i. 263.

"So long where hast thou tarried, Young man of Rosengord?" "I have been into my stable, Our mother dear." Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 5

"What hast thou done in the stable, Young man of Rosengord?" "I have watered the horses, Our mother dear." Long may ye look for me, or look for me never. 10

"Why is thy foot so bloody, Young man of Rosengord?" "The black horse has trampled me, Our mother dear." Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 15

"Why is thy sword so bloody, Young man of Rosengord?" "I have murdered my brother, Our mother dear." Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 20

"Whither wilt thou betake thee, Young man of Rosengord?" "I shall flee my country, Our mother dear." Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 25

"What will become of thy wedded wife, Young man of Rosengord?" "She must spin for her living, Our mother dear." Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 30

"What will become of thy children small, Young man of Rosengord?" "They must beg from door to door, Our mother dear." Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 35

"When comest thou back again, Young man of Rosengord?" "When the swan is black as night, Our mother dear." Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 40

"And when will the swan be black as night, Young man of Rosengord?" "When the raven shall be white as snow, Our mother dear." Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 45

"And when will the raven be white as snow, Young man of Rosengord?" "When the grey rocks take to flight, Our mother dear." Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 50

"And when will fly the grey rocks, Young man of Rosengord?" "The rocks they will fly never, Our mother dear." Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 55

THE BLOOD-STAINED SON.--See p. 219.

A translation, nearly word for word, of _Der Blutige Sohn_, printed from oral tradition in Schröter's _Finnische Runen_, (_Finnisch und Deutsch_,) ed. 1834, p. 151.

"Say whence com'st thou, say whence com'st thou, Merry son of mine?" "From the lake-side, from the lake-side, O dear mother mine."

"What hast done there, what hast done there, 5 Merry son of mine?" "Steeds I watered, steeds I watered, O dear mother mine."

"Why thus clay-bedaubed thy jacket, Merry son of mine?" 10 "Steeds kept stamping, steeds kept stamping, O dear mother mine."

"But how came thy sword so bloody, Merry son of mine?" "I have stabbed my only brother, 15 O dear mother mine."

"Whither wilt thou now betake thee, Merry son of mine?" "Far away to foreign countries, O dear mother mine." 20

"Where leav'st thou thy gray-haired father, Merry son of mine?" "Let him chop wood in the forest, Never wish to see me more, O dear mother mine." 25

"Where leav'st thou thy gray-haired mother, Merry son of mine?" "Let her sit, her flax a-picking, Never wish to see me more, O dear mother mine." 30

"Where leav'st thou thy wife so youthful, Merry son of mine?" "Let her deck her, take another, Never wish to see me more, O dear mother mine." 35

"Where leav'st thou thy son so youthful, Merry son of mine?" "He to school, and bear the rod there, [Never wish to see me more,] O dear mother mine." 40

"Where leav'st thou thy youthful daughter, Merry son of mine?" "She to the wood and eat wild berries, Never wish to see me more, O dear mother mine." 45

"Home when com'st thou back from roaming, Merry son of mine?" "In the north when breaks the morning, O dear mother mine."

"In the north when breaks the morning, 50 Merry son of mine?" "When stones dance upon the water, O dear mother mine."

"When shall stones dance on the water, Merry son of mine?" 55 "When a feather sinks to the bottom, O dear mother mine."

"When shall feathers sink to the bottom, Merry son of mine?" "When we all shall come to judgment, 60 O dear mother mine."

THE TWA BROTHERS. See p. 220.

From Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 61.

There were twa brothers at the scule, And when they got awa',-- "It's will ye play at the stane-chucking, Or will ye play at the ba', Or will ye gae up to yon hill head, 5 And there we'll warsel a fa'?"

"I winna play at the stane-chucking, Nor will I play at the ba'; But I'll gae up to yon bonnie green hill, And there we'll warsel a fa'." 10

They warsled up, they warsled down, Till John fell to the ground; A dirk fell out of William's pouch, And gave John a deadly wound.

"O lift me upon your back, 15 Take me to yon well fair, And wash my bluidy wounds o'er and o'er, And they'll ne'er bleed nae mair."

He's lifted his brother upon his back, Ta'en him to yon well fair; 20 He's wash'd his bluidy wounds o'er and o'er, But they bleed ay mair and mair.

"Tak ye aff my Holland sark, And rive it gair by gair, And row it in my bluidy wounds, 25 And they'll ne'er bleed nae mair."

He's taken aff his Holland sark, And torn it gair by gair; He's rowit it in his bluidy wounds, But they bleed ay mair and mair. 30

"Tak now aff my green cleiding, And row me saftly in; And tak me up to yon kirk style, Whare the grass grows fair and green."

He's taken aff the green cleiding, 35 And rowed him saftly in; He's laid him down by yon kirk style, Whare the grass grows fair and green.

"What will ye say to your father dear, When ye gae hame at e'en?" 40 "I'll say ye're lying at yon kirk style, Whare the grass grows fair and green."

"O no, O no, my brother dear, O you must not say so; But say that I'm gane to a foreign land, 45 Whare nae man does me know."

When he sat in his father's chair, He grew baith pale and wan: "O what blude 's that upon your brow? O dear son, tell to me." 50 "It is the blude o' my gude gray steed, He wadna ride wi' me."

"O thy steed's blude was ne'er sae red, Nor e'er sae dear to me: O what blude 's this upon your cheek? 55 O dear son, tell to me." "It is the blude of my greyhound, He wadna hunt for me."

"O thy hound's blude was ne'er sae red, Nor e'er sae dear to me: 60 O what blude 's this upon your hand? O dear son, tell to me." "It is the blude of my gay goss hawk, He wadna flee for me."

"O thy hawk's blude was ne'er sae red, 65 Nor e'er sae dear to me: O what blude 's this upon your dirk? Dear Willie, tell to me." "It is the blude of my ae brother, O dule and wae is me!" 70

"O what will ye say to your father? Dear Willie, tell to me." "I'll saddle my steed, and awa I'll ride To dwell in some far countrie."

"O when will ye come hame again? 75 Dear Willie, tell to me." "When sun and mune leap on yon hill, And that will never be."

She turn'd hersel' right round about, And her heart burst into three: 80 "My ae best son is deid and gane, And my tother ane I'll ne'er see."

THE MILLER AND THE KING'S DAUGHTER. See p. 231.

From _Wit Restor'd_, (1658,) reprinted, London, 1817, i. 153. It is there ascribed to "Mr. Smith," (Dr. James Smith, the author of many of the pieces in that collection,) who may have written it down from tradition, and perhaps added a verse or two. Mr. Rimbault has printed the same piece from a broadside dated 1656, in _Notes and Queries_, v. 591. A fragment of it is given from recitation at p. 316 of that volume, and a copy quite different from any before published, at p. 102 of vol. vi. Although two or three stanzas are ludicrous, and were probably intended for burlesque, this ballad is by no means to be regarded as a parody.

There were two sisters, they went a-playing, _With a hie downe, downe, a downe a_; To see their fathers ships sayling in. _With a hy downe, downe, a downe o._

And when they came into the sea brym, _With_, &c. The elder did push the younger in. _With_, &c.

"O sister, O sister, take me by the gowne, 5 _With_, &c. And drawe me up upon the dry ground." _With_, &c.

"O sister, O sister, that may not bee, _With_, &c. Till salt and oatmeale grow both of a tree." _With_, &c.

Somtymes she sanke, somtymes she swam, _With_, &c. Untill she came unto the mildam. 10 _With_, &c.

The miller runne hastily downe the cliffe, _With_, &c. And up he betook her withouten her life. _With_, &c.

What did he doe with her brest bone? _With_, &c. He made him a viall to play thereupon. _With_, &c.

What did he doe with her fingers so small? 15 _With_, &c. He made him peggs to his violl withall. _With_, &c.

What did he doe with her nose-ridge? _With_, &c. Unto his violl he made him a bridge. _With_, &c.

What did he do with her veynes so blewe? _With_, &c. He made him strings to his viole thereto. 20 _With_, &c.

What did he doe with her eyes so bright? _With_, &c. Upon his violl he played at first sight. _With_, &c.

What did he doe with her tongue soe rough? _With_, &c. Unto the violl it spake enough. _With_, &c.

What did he doe with her two shinnes? 25 _With_, &c. Unto the violl they danct Moll Syms. _With_, &c.

Then bespake the treble string, _With_, &c. "O yonder is my father the king." _With_, &c.

Then bespake the second string, _With_, &c. "O yonder sitts my mother the queen." 30 _With_, &c.

And then bespake the stringes all three, _With_, &c. "O yonder is my sister that drowned mee." _With_, &c.

Now pay the miller for his payne, _With_, &c. And let him bee gone in the divels name. _With_, &c.

THE BONNY BOWS O' LONDON. See p. 231.

From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 128.

There were twa sisters in a bower, _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; And ae king's son hae courted them baith, _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_.

He courted the youngest wi' broach and ring, 5 _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; He courted the eldest wi' some other thing, _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_.

It fell ance upon a day, _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_, 10 The eldest to the youngest did say, _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_:

"Will ye gae to yon Tweed mill dam," _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_, "And see our father's ships come to land?" 15 _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_.

They baith stood up upon a stane, _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; The eldest dang the youngest in, _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. 20

She swimmed up, sae did she down, _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; Till she came to the Tweed mill-dam, _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_.

The miller's servant he came out, 25 _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; And saw the lady floating about, _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_.

"O master, master, set your mill," _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; 30 "There is a fish, or a milk-white swan," _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_.

They could not ken her yellow hair, _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; [For] the scales o' gowd that were laid there, 35 _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_.

They could not ken her fingers sae white, _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; The rings o' gowd they were sae bright, _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. 40

They could not ken her middle sae jimp, _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; The stays o' gowd were so well laced, _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_.

They could not ken her foot sae fair, 45 _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; The shoes o' gowd they were so rare, _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_.

Her father's fiddler he came by, _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; 50 Upstarted her ghaist before his eye, _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_.

"Ye'll take a lock o' my yellow hair," _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; "Ye'll make a string to your fiddle there," 55 _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_.

"Ye'll take a lith o' my little finger bane," _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; "And ye'll make a pin to your fiddle then," _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. 60

He's ta'en a lock o' her yellow hair, _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; And made a string to his fiddle there, _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_.

He's taen a lith o' her little finger bane, 65 _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; And he's made a pin to his fiddle then, _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_.

The firstand spring the fiddle did play, _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; 70 Said, "Ye'll drown my sister, as she's dune me." _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_.

I.

THE CROODLIN DOO. See _Lord Donald_, p. 244.

From Chambers's _Scottish Ballads_, p. 324. Other copies in _The Scot's Musical Museum_, (1853,) vol. iv. 364*, and Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 179.

"O whaur hae ye been a' the day, My little wee croodlin doo?" "O I've been at my grandmother's; Mak my bed, mammie, noo."

"O what gat ye at your grandmother's, 5 My little wee croodlin doo?" "I got a bonnie wee fishie; Mak my bed, mammie, noo."

"O whaur did she catch the fishie, My bonnie wee croodlin doo?" 10 "She catch'd it in the gutter-hole; Mak my bed, mammie, noo."

"And what did she do wi' the fish, My little wee croodlin doo?" "She boiled it in a brass pan; 15 O mak my bed, mammie, noo."

"And what did ye do wi' the banes o't, My bonnie wee croodlin doo?" "I gied them to my little dog; Mak my bed, mammie, noo," 20

"And what did your little doggie do, My bonnie wee croodlin doo?" "He stretch'd out his head, his feet, and dee'd, And so will I, mammie, noo!"

II.

THE SNAKE-COOK.

From oral tradition, in Erk's _Deutscher Leiderhort_, p. 6. Our homely translation is, as far as possible, word for word. Other German versions are _The Stepmother_, at p. 5 of the same collection, (or Uhland, i. 272,) and _Grandmother Adder-cook_, at p. 7. The last is translated by Jamieson, _Illustrations of Northern Antiquities_, p. 320.

"Where hast thou been away so long, Henry, my dearest son?" "O I have been at my true-love's, Lady mother, ah me! _My young life, 5 She has poisoned for me_."

"What gave she thee to eat, Henry, my dearest son?" "She cooked me a speckled fish, Lady mother, ah me!" &c. 10

"And how many pieces cut she thee, Henry my dearest son?" "She cut three little pieces from it, Lady mother, ah me!" &c.

"Where left she then the third piece, 15 Henry, my dearest son?" "She gave it to her dark-brown dog, Lady mother, ah me!" &c.

"And what befell the dark-brown dog, Henry, my dearest son?" 20 "His belly burst in the midst in two, Lady mother, ah me!" &c.

"What wishest thou for thy father, Henry, my dearest son?" "I wish him a thousandfold boon and blessing, 25 Lady mother, ah me!" &c.

"What wishest thou for thy mother, Henry, my dearest son?" "I wish for her eternal bliss, Lady mother, ah me!" &c. 30

"What wishest thou for thy true-love, Henry, my dearest son?" "I wish her eternal hell and torment, Lady mother, ah me!" &c.

III.

THE CHILD'S LAST WILL.

_Den lillas Testamente: Svenska Folk-Visor_, iii. 13. Translated in _Literature and Romance of Northern Europe_, i. 265. See also Arwidsson's _Fornsånger_, ii. 90.

"So long where hast thou tarried, Little daughter dear?" "I have tarried with my old nurse, Sweet step-mother mine." _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 5

"What gave she thee for dinner, Little daughter dear?" "A few small speckled fishes, Sweet step-mother mine." _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 10

"What didst thou do with the fish-bones, Little daughter dear?" "Gave them to the beagle, Sweet step-mother mine." _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 15

"What wish leav'st thou thy father, Little daughter dear?" "The blessedness of heaven, Sweet step-mother mine." _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 20

"What wish leav'st thou thy mother, Little daughter dear?" "All the joys of heaven, Sweet step-mother mine." _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 25

"What wish leav'st thou thy brother, Little daughter dear?" "A fleet ship on the waters, Sweet step-mother mine." _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 30

"What wish leav'st thou thy sister, Little daughter dear?" "Golden chests and caskets, Sweet step-mother mine." _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 35

"What wish leav'st thou thy step-mother, Little daughter dear?" "Of hell the bitter sorrow Sweet step-mother mine." _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 40

"What wish leav'st thou thy old nurse, Little daughter dear?" "For her I wish the same pangs, Sweet step-mother mine. _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 45

"But now the time is over When I with you can stay; The little bells of heaven Are ringing me away." _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 50

THE THREE KNIGHTS. See p. 251.

From the second edition of Gilbert's _Ancient Christmas Carols_, &c. p. 68.

There did three Knights come from the West, _With the high and the lily oh_! And these three Knights courted one Lady, _As the rose was so sweetly blown_.

The first Knight came was all in white, 5 _With the high and the lily oh_! And asked of her, if she'd be his delight, _As the rose was so sweetly blown_.

The next Knight came was all in green, _With the high and the lily oh_! 10 And asked of her, if she'd be his Queen, _As the rose was so sweetly blown_.

The third Knight came was all in red, _With the high and the lily oh_! And asked of her, if she would wed, 15 _As the rose was so sweetly blown_.

"Then have you asked of my Father dear, _With the high and the lily oh_! Likewise of her who did me bear? _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. 20

"And have you asked of my brother John? _With the high and the lily oh_! And also of my sister Anne?" _As the rose was so sweetly blown_.

"Yes, I have asked of your Father dear, 25 _With the high and the lily oh_! Likewise of her who did you bear, _As the rose was so sweetly blown_.

"And I have asked of your sister Anne, _With the high and the lily oh_! 30 But I've not asked of your brother John," _As the rose was so sweetly blown_.

[Here some verses seem to be wanting.]

For on the road as they rode along, _With the high and the lily oh_! There did they meet with her brother John, 35 _As the rose was so sweetly blown_.

She stooped low to kiss him sweet, _With the high and the lily oh_! He to her heart did a dagger meet, _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. 40

"Ride on, ride on," cried the serving man, _With the high and the lily oh_! "Methinks your bride she looks wond'rous wan," _As the rose was so sweetly blown_.

"I wish I were on yonder stile, 45 _With the high and the lily oh_! For there I would sit and bleed awhile, _As the rose was so sweetly blown_.

"I wish I were on yonder hill, _With the high and the lily oh_! 50 There I'd alight and make my will," _As the rose was so sweetly blown_.

"What would you give to your Father dear?" _With the high and the lily oh_! "The gallant steed which doth me bear," 55 _As the rose was so sweetly blown_.

"What would you give to your Mother dear?" _With the high and the lily oh_! "My wedding shift which I do wear, _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. 60

"But she must wash it very clean, _With the high and the lily oh_! For my heart's blood sticks in every seam," _As the rose was so sweetly blown_.

"What would you give to your sister Anne?" 65 _With the high and the lily oh_! "My gay gold ring, and my feathered fan," _As the rose was so sweetly blown_.

"What would you give to your brother John?" _With the high and the lily oh_! 70 "A rope and gallows to hang him on," _As the rose was so sweetly blown_.

"What would you give to your brother John's wife?" _With the high and the lily oh_! "A widow's weeds, and a quiet life," 75 _As the rose was so sweetly blown_.

THE CRUEL MOTHER. See p. 262.

From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 222.

It fell ance upon a day, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, It fell ance upon a day, _Stirling for aye_; It fell ance upon a day, The clerk and lady went to play, _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 5

"If my baby be a son, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, If my baby be a son, _Stirling for aye_; If my baby be a son, I'll make him a lord o' high renown," _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 10

She's lean'd her back to the wa', _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, She's lean'd her back to the wa', _Stirling for aye_; She's lean'd her back to the wa', Pray'd that her pains might fa', _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 15

She's lean'd her back to the thorn, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, She's lean'd her back to the thorn, _Stirling for aye_; She's lean'd her back to the thorn, There has her baby born, _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 20

"O bonny baby, if ye suck sair, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, O bonny baby, if ye suck sair, _Stirling for aye_; O bonny baby, if ye suck sair, You'll never suck by my side mair," _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 25

She's riven the muslin frae her head, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, She's riven the muslin frae her head, _Stirling for aye_; She's riven the muslin frae her head, Tied the baby hand and feet, _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 30

Out she took her little penknife, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, Out she took her little penknife, _Stirling for aye_; Out she took her little penknife, Twin'd the young thing o' its life, _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 35

She's howk'd a hole anent the meen, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, She's howk'd a hole anent the meen, _Stirling for aye_; She's howk'd a hole anent the meen, There laid her sweet baby in, _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 40

She had her to her father's ha', _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, She had her to her father's ha', _Stirling for aye_; She had her to her father's ha', She was the meekest maid amang them a', _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 45

It fell ance upon a day, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, It fell ance upon a day, _Stirling for aye_; It fell ance upon a day, She saw twa babies at their play, _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 50

"O bonny babies, gin ye were mine, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, O bonny babies, gin ye were mine, _Stirling for aye_; O bonny babies, gin ye were mine, I'd cleathe you in the silks sae fine," _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 55

"O wild mother, when we were thine, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, O wild mother, when we were thine, _Stirling for aye_; O wild mother, when we were thine, You cleath'd us not in silks sae fine, _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 60

"But now we're in the heavens high, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, But now we're in the heavens high, _Stirling for aye_; But now we're in the heavens high, And you've the pains o' hell to try," _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 65

She threw hersell ower the castle-wa', _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, She threw hersell ower the castle-wa', _Stirling for aye_; She threw hersell ower the castle-wa', There I wat she got a fa', _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 70

THE MINISTER'S DOCHTER O' NEWARKE.

See p. 262.

From _Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads_, Percy Society, vol. xvii. p. 51. This is the same ballad, with trifling variations, as _The Minister's Daughter of New York_, Buchan, ii. 217.

The Minister's dochter o' Newarke, _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, Has fa'en in luve wi' her father's clerk, _Alane by the green burn sidie O_.

She courted him sax years and a day, 5 _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, At length her fause-luve did her betray, _Alane by the green burn sidie O_.

She did her doun to the green woods gang, _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, 10 To spend awa' a while o' her time, _Alane by the green burn sidie O_.

She lent her back unto a thorn, _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_; And she's got her twa bonnie boys born, 15 _Alane by the green burn sidie O_.

She's ta'en the ribbons frae her hair, _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, Boun' their bodies fast and sair, _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. 20

She's put them aneath a marble stane, _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, Thinkin' a may to gae her hame, _Alane by the green burn sidie O_.

Leukin' o'er her castel wa', 25 _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, She spied twa bonny boys at the ba', _Alane by the green burn sidie O_.

"O bonny babies, if ye were mine, _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, 30 I woud feed ye wi' the white bread and wine, _Alane by the green burn sidie O_.

"I wou'd feed ye with the ferra cow's milk, _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, An' dress ye i' the finest silk," 35 _Alane by the green burn sidie O_.

"O cruel mother, when we were thine, _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, We saw nane o' your bread and wine, _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. 40

"We saw nane o' your ferra cow's milk, _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, Nor wore we o' your finest silk," _Alane by the green burn sidie O_.

"O bonny babies, can ye tell me, 45 _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, What sort o' death for ye I maun dee," _Alane by the green burn sidie O_.

"Yes, cruel mother, we'll tell to thee, _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, 50 What sort o' death for us ye maun dee, _Alane by the green burn sidie O_.

"Seven years a fool i' the woods, _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, "Seven years a fish i' the floods, 55 _Alane by the green burn sidie O_.

"Seven years to be a church bell, _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, Seven years a porter i' hell," _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. 60

"Welcome, welcome, fool i' the wood, _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, Welcome, welcome, fish i' the flood, _Alane by the green burn sidie O_.

"Welcome, welcome, to be a church bell, 65 _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, But heavens keep me out o' hell," _Alane by the green burn sidie O_.

BONDSEY AND MAISRY. See p. 298.

From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 265.

"O come along wi' me, brother, Now come along wi' me; And we'll gae seek our sister Maisry, Into the water o' Dee."

The eldest brother he stepped in, 5 He stepped to the knee; Then out he jump'd upo' the bank, Says, "This water's nae for me."

The second brother he stepped in, He stepped to the quit; 10 Then out he jump'd upo' the bank, Says, "This water's wond'rous deep."

When the third brother stepped in, He stepped to the chin; Out he got, and forward wade, 15 For fear o' drowning him.

The youngest brother he stepped in, Took 's sister by the hand; Said, "Here she is, my sister Maisry, Wi' the hinny draps on her chin. 20

"O if I were in some bonny ship, And in some strange countrie, For to find out some conjurer, To gar Maisry speak to me!"

Then out it speaks an auld woman, 25 As she was passing by; "Ask of your sister what you want, And she will speak to thee."

"O sister, tell me who is the man, That did your body win? 30 And who is the wretch, tell me, likewise, That threw you in the lin?"

"O Bondsey was the only man That did my body win; And likewise Bondsey was the man 35 That threw me in the lin."

"O will we Bondsey head, sister? Or will we Bondsey hang? Or will we set him at our bow end, Lat arrows at him gang?" 40

"Ye winna Bondsey head, brothers, Nor will ye Bondsey hang; But ye'll take out his twa grey e'en, Make Bondsey blind to gang.

"Ye'll put to the gate a chain o' gold, 45 A rose garland gar make; And ye'll put that in Bondsey's head, A' for your sister's sake."

LADY DIAMOND.

From the Percy Society Publications, xvii. 71. The same in Buchan, ii. 206. The ballad is given in Sharpe's _Ballad Book_, under the title of _Dysmal_, and by Aytoun, _Ballads of Scotland_, 2d ed., ii. 173, under that of _Lady Daisy_. All these names are corruptions of Ghismonda, on whose well-known story (_Decamerone_, iv. 1, 9) the present is founded.--This piece and the next might better have been inserted at p. 347, as a part of the Appendix to Book III.

There was a king, an' a curious king, An' a king o' royal fame; He had ae dochter, he had never mair, Ladye Diamond was her name.

She's fa'en into shame, an' lost her gude name, 5 An' wrought her parents 'noy; An' a' for her layen her luve so low, On her father's kitchen boy.

Ae nicht as she lay on her bed, Just thinkin' to get rest, 10 Up it came her old father, Just like a wanderin' ghaist.

"Rise up, rise up, ladye Diamond," he says, "Rise up, put on your goun; Rise up, rise up, ladye Diamond," he says, 15 "For I fear ye gae too roun'."

"Too roun I gae, yet blame me nae; Ye'll cause me na to shame; For better luve I that bonnie boy Than a' your weel-bred men." 20

The king's ca'd up his wa'-wight men, That he paid meat an' fee: "Bring here to me that bonnie boy, An' we'll smore him right quietlie."

Up hae they ta'en that bonnie boy, 25 Put him 'tween twa feather beds; Naethin' was dane, nor naethin' said, Till that bonnie bonnie boy was dead.

The king's ta'en out a braid braid sword, An' streak'd it on a strae; 30 An' thro' an' thro' that bonnie boy's heart He's gart cauld iron gae.

Out has he ta'en his poor bluidie heart, Set it in a tasse o' gowd, And set it before ladye Diamonds face, 35 Said "Fair ladye, behold!"

Up has she ta'en this poor bludie heart, An' holden it in her han'; "Better luved I that bonnie bonnie boy Than a' my father's lan'." 40

Up has she ta'en his poor bludie heart, An' laid it at her head; The tears awa' frae her eyne did flee, An' ere midnicht she was dead.

THE WEST COUNTRY DAMOSELS COMPLAINT.

From Collier's _Book of Roxburghe Ballads_, p. 202.

After a broadside "printed by P. Brooksby, at the Golden Bull in Westsmith-field, neer the Hospitall Gate." The first ten or twelve stanzas seem to be ancient.

"When will you marry me, William, And make me your wedded wife? Or take you your keen bright sword, And rid me out of my life."

"Say no more then so,[L5] lady, 5 Say you no more then so, For you shall unto the wild forrest, And amongst the buck and doe.

"Where thou shalt eat of the hips and haws, And the roots that are so sweet, 10 And thou shalt drink of the cold water That runs underneath your feet."

Now had she not been in the wild forrest Passing three months and a day, But with hunger and cold she had her fill, 15 Till she was quite worn away.

At last she saw a fair tyl'd house, And there she swore by the rood, That she would to that fair tyl'd house, There for to get her some food. 20

But when she came unto the gates, Aloud, aloud she cry'd, "An alms, an alms, my own sister! I ask you for no pride."

Her sister call'd up her merry men all, 25 By one, by two, and by three, And bid them hunt away that wild doe, As far as e'er they could see.

They hunted her o're hill and dale, And they hunted her so sore, 30 That they hunted her into the forrest, Where her sorrows grew more and more.

She laid a stone all at her head, And another all at her feet, And down she lay between these two, 35 Till death had lull'd her asleep.

When sweet Will came and stood at her head, And likewise stood at her feet, A thousand times he kiss'd her cold lips, Her body being fast asleep. 40

Yea, seaven times he stood at her feet, And seaven times at her head; A thousand times he shook her hand, Although her body was dead.

"Ah wretched me!" he loudly cry'd, 45 "What is it that I have done? O wou'd to the powers above I'de dy'd, When thus I left her alone!

"Come, come, you gentle red-breast now, And prepare for us a tomb, 50 Whilst unto cruel Death I bow, And sing like a swan my doom.

"Why could I ever cruel be Unto so fair a creature; Alas! she dy'd for love of me, 55 The loveliest she in nature!

"For me she left her home so fair To wander in this wild grove, And there with sighs and pensive care She ended her life for love. 60

"O constancy, in her thou'rt lost! Now let women boast no more; She's fled unto the Elizian coast, And with her carry'd the store.

"O break, my heart, with sorrow fill'd, 65 Come, swell, you strong tides of grief! You that my dear love have kill'd, Come, yield in death to me relief.

"Cruel her sister, was't for me That to her she was unkind? 70 Her husband I will never be, But with this my love be joyn'd.

"Grim Death shall tye the marriage bands, Which jealousie shan't divide; Together shall tye our cold hands, 75 Whilst here we lye side by side.

"Witness, ye groves, and chrystal streams, How faithless I late have been; But do repent with dying leaves Of that my ungrateful sin; 80

"And wish a thousand times that I Had been but to her more kind, And not have let a virgin dye, Whose equal there's none can find.

"Now heaps of sorrow press my soul; 85 Now, now 'tis she takes her way; I come, my love, without controule, Nor from thee will longer stay."

With that he fetch'd a heavy groan, Which rent his tender breast, 90 And then by her he laid him down, When as Death did give him rest.

Whilst mournful birds, with leavy bows, To them a kind burial gave, And warbled out their love-sick vows, 95 Whilst they both slept in their grave.

5, so then.

THE BRAVE EARL BRAND AND THE KING OF ENGLAND'S DAUGHTER. See p. 114.

From Bell's _Ballads of the Peasantry of England_, p. 122.

This ballad, which was printed by Bell from the recitation of an old Northumberland fiddler, is defective in the tenth and the last stanzas, and has suffered much from corruption in the course of transmission. The name of the hero, however, is uncommonly well preserved, and affords a link, rarely occurring in English, with the corresponding Danish and Swedish ballads, a good number of which have Hildebrand, though more have Ribold. It may be observed that in _Hildebrand og Hilde_ (Grundtvig, No. 83), the knight has the rank here ascribed to the lady.

"Hand heede hertug Hyldebraand, Kongens sönn aff Engeland."

The "old Carl Hood" who gives the alarm in this ballad, is called in most of the Danish ballads "a rich earl"; in one a treacherous man, in another a young Carl, and in a third an old man; which together furnish the elements of his character here of a treacherous old Carl.

O did you ever hear of the brave Earl Brand? _Hey lillie, ho lillie lallie!_ He's courted the king's daughter o' fair England, _I' the brave nights so early._

She was scarcely fifteen years that tide, When sae boldly she came to his bed-side.

"O Earl Brand, how fain wad I see 5 A pack of hounds let loose on the lea."

"O lady fair, I have no steed but one, But thou shalt ride and I will run."

"O Earl Brand, but my father has two, And thou shalt have the best of tho." 10

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

Till at last they met with old Carl Hood, He's aye for ill, and never for good.

"Now, Earl Brand, an ye love me, 15 Slay this old carl, and gar him dee."

"O lady fair, but that would be sair, To slay an auld carl that wears grey hair.

"My own lady fair, I'll not do that, I'll pay him his fee......." 20

"O where have ye ridden this lee lang day, And where have ye stown this fair lady away?"

"I have not ridden this lee lang day, Nor yet have I stown this lady away.

"For she is, I trow, my sick sister, 25 Whom I have been bringing fra Winchester."

"If she's been sick, and nigh to dead, What makes her wear the ribbon so red?

"If she's been sick, and like to die, What makes her wear the gold sae high?" 30

When came the carl to the lady's yett, He rudely, rudely rapped thereat.

"Now where is the lady of this hall?" "She's out with her maids a-playing at the ball."

"Ha, ha, ha! ye are all mista'en; 35 Ye may count your maidens owre again.

"I met her far beyond the lea, With the young Earl Brand, his leman to be."

Her father of his best men armed fifteen, And they're ridden after them bidene. 40

The lady looked owre her left shoulder then; Says, "O Earl Brand, we are both of us ta'en."

"If they come on me one by one, You may stand by till the fights be done.

"But if they come on me one and all, 45 You may stand by and see me fall."

They came upon him one by one, Till fourteen battles he has won.

And fourteen men he has them slain, Each after each upon the plain. 50

But the fifteenth man behind stole round, And dealt him a deep and deadly wound.

Though he was wounded to the deid, He set his lady on her steed.

They rode till they came to the river Doune, 55 And there they lighted to wash his wound.

"O Earl Brand, I see your heart's blood!" "It's nothing but the glent and my scarlet hood."[L58]

They rode till they came to his mother's yett, So faint and feebly he rapped thereat. 60

"O my son's slain, he is falling to swoon, And it's all for the sake of an English loon!"

"O say not so, my dearest mother, But marry her to my youngest brother.

"To a maiden true he'll give his hand, 65 To the king's daughter o' fair England.

"[To the king's daughter o' fair England,] _Hey lillie, ho lillie lallie!_ To a prize that was won by a slain brother's brand," _I' the brave nights so early._

58. Qy.? _of_ my scarlet hood.

LA VENDICATRICE. See p. 273.

From _Canti Popolari Inediti Umbri, Piceni, Piemontesi, Latini, raccolti e illustrati da_ ORESTE MARCOALDI. Genova, 1855. p. 167.--From Alessandria.

"Oh varda ben, Munfrenna,[L1] Oh varda qul castè:[L2] I'è trentatrè fantenni[L3] Ch' a j' ho menaji me.[L4] I m' han negà[L5] l' amure, La testa a j' ho tajè."[L6]

"Ch' u 'm digga lü, Sior[L7] Conte; Ch' u 'm lassa la so' spà."[L8] "Oh dimì ti, Monfrenna, Cosa ch' a 't na voi fa'?"[L10] "A voi tajè[L11] 'na frasca, Per ombra al me' cavà."[L12] Lesta con la spadenna[L13] Al cor a j' ha passà.

"Va là, va là, Sior Conte, Va là 'nte quei boscon;[L16] Le spenni[L17] e li serpenti Saran toi[L18] compagnon."

1 guarda ben, Monferina.

2 quel castello.

3 fanciulle.

4 menate io.

5 negato.

6 tagliato.

7 dica lei, signor.

8 sua spada.

10 vuoi fare.

11 tagliare.

12 cavallo.

13 spadina.

16 (_boscon_) cespugli.

17 spine.

18 tuoi.

GLOSSARY.

[pointing hand] Figures placed after words denote the pages in which they occur.

aboon, _above_, _upon_.

abound, 335, _bound_.

abune a' thing, _above all things_.

a dee, 335, _to do_.

ae, _one_.

aft, _oft_.

aith, _oath_.

an, _if_.

ance, _once_.

anent, _opposite to_.

are, _early_.

assoile, _absolve_.

aucht, _owns_; wha is aucht that bairn? _who is it owns that child?_

ava, _of all_.

a-warslin, _a wrestling_.

ayont, _beyond_.

ba', _ball_.

badena, _abode not_.

bairn, _child_.

baith, _both_.

ban, 89, _bond_.

beet, 340, _add fuel_.

bierdly, _large and well-made_, _stately_.

biggins, _buildings_.

ben, _in_, _within_.

bestan, _best_.

best young man, _bridesman_.

bidden, _bidding_.

bidene, _in a company_, _forthwith_ (?)

billie, _comrade_, _brother_.

binna, _beest not_.

birk, _birch_.

birling, _pouring out_ [_drink_], _drinking_.

blan, _ceased_, _stopped_.

blate, _sheepish_, _ashamed_.

blear, [noun,] _dimness_.

blinkit, _blinked_, _winked_.

blinne, _cease_.

borrow, _ransom_.

bouerie, _chamber_.

boun, _ready_.

bour, bower, _chamber_.

bra', braw, _handsome_.

bracken, _female fern_.

brae, _hill-side_.

braid, _broad_.

brain, _mad_.

brent, _burnt_; 308, v. 31, _straight_?

bridesteel, (Buchan,) 183, _bridal_?

brigg, brigue, _bridge_.

broo, _broth_.

brook, _enjoy_.

brunt, _burnt_.

buird, _board_.

burd, _lady_.

burn, _brook_.

busking, _dressing_, _making ready_.

but, butt, _without_.

but and, _and also_.

byre, _cow-house_.

ca', _call_.

cannel, 327. Qy. a corruption?

canny, _knowing_, _expert_, _gentle_, _adroitly_, _carefully_.

cast, _trick_, _turn_.

channerin, _fretting_.

chap, _tap_, _rap_; chappit, 11, _tapped_, _rapped_; at the chin, _should probably be_ at the pin, _or tongue of the latch_.

cheir, _cheer_.

claise, _clothes_.

clap, _fondle_; clappit, _patted_, _fondled_.

cleading, _clothing_.

clecked, _hatched_.

cleed, _clothe_.

cleiding, _clothing_.

clerks, _scholars_.

cliding, _clothing_.

close, _lane_.

cod, _pillow_.

coil, 324, _cock of hay_.

coost, _cast_.

could, _used with the infinitive as an auxiliary, to form a past tense_.

crap, _crop_, _top_.

croodlin doo, _cooing dove_.

crowse, _brisk_.

cuik, _cook_.

curches, _kerchiefs_. R. Jamieson, "_linen caps tying under the chin._"

cuttit, _cut_.

dabs, _pricks_.

dang, 301, _overcome_; 361, _pushed_.

dapperby, 189, _dapper_?

daut, _fondle_, _caress_.

daw, _dawn_.

dead, _death_.

dear-boucht, _dear-bought_.

deas, _sometimes a pew in a church_.

dee, _die_.

dee, do, _avail_.

deid, _death_.

deight, dight, _decked_.

den, _valley_.

depart, 124, _part_.

dight, 253, _skilfully_, _readily_?

dighted, _dressed_, _wiped_.

dine, _dinner_.

ding, _strike_.

dinna, _do not_.

disna, _does not_.

dool, _sorrow_.

dout, _fear_.

dowie, _mournful_, _sad_, _gloomy_.

downa, _cannot_.

dows, _doves_.

dreaded, _doubted_.

dree, _suffer_.

drew up with, 94, _formed relations of love with_.

drie, _suffer_.

drumly, _troubled_.

dule, _grief_, _sorrow_.

dune, _done_.

dwines, _dwindles_.

e'e, _eye_.

een, _eye_, _eyes_.

eneuch, _enough_.

ezer, _azure_.

fadge, _clumsy woman_.

faem, _foam_.

fare, _go_.

farrow-cow, _a barren cow_.

fee, _property_, _wages_.

fell, _hill_.

fell, _strange_.

ferra cow, _farrow cow_, _a cow not with calf_.

ffree, _noble_.

firstan, firstand, _first_.

fit, _foot_.

fitches, 329, _flitches_?

flang'd, _flung_.

fleed, _flood_.

foremost man, _bridesman_.

forlorn, _lost_.

fou, fow, _full_.

frush, _brittle_.

fur, furrow, _a furrows length_, _furlong_.

gaed, _went_.

gair, 354, _gore_, _strip_. See gare.

gang, _go_; gangs, _goes_.

gar, _make_.

gare, 55, _gore_; apparently, here, _skirt_. So, hung low down by his gair, 296, _by the edge of his frock_. The word seems also to be used vaguely in romances for _clothing_.

garl, _gravel_.

gate, _way_.

gear, _goods_, _clothes_.

gin, _trick_, _wile_.

gleed, _a burning coal_; 97, _blaze_.

glent, _gleam_, _glimmer_.

gone, _go_.

gowd, _gold_; gowden, _golden_.

gowk, _fool_.

gravat, _cravat_?

greaf, _grave_.

greet, _cry_, _weep_.

gris, _a costly fur_.

grit, _big_.

groom, _man_.

gross, _heavy_.

gryte, _great_, _big_.

Gude, _God_.

ha', _hall_.

had her, _betook her_.

hallow-days, _holidays_.

haly, _holy_.

happit, _covered_.

hass, _neck_.

haud, _hold_; haud unthought lang, _keep from ennui_.

hause, _neck_.

head, _behead_.

healy, _slowly_, _softly_.

heght, _promised_.

her lane, _herself alone_.

herried, _robbed_.

hich, _high_.

hinny, _honey_.

hip, _the berry which contains the stones or seeds of the dog-rose_.

hooly, _slowly_, _gently_.

how, _ho!_

hows, _hollows_, _dells_.

howket, _dug_.

huggell, _huddle_, _cuddle_.

huly, _slowly_.

intill, _into_, _in_.

into, _on_.

iwis, _certainly_.

jaw, 233, _wave_.

jawing, _dashing_.

jimp, _slender_.

jo, _sweetheart_.

jollie, _handsome_.

jow, _stroke in tolling_.

kell, _caul_, _a species of cap, or net-work, worn by women as a head-dress_.

kembe, _comb_; kembing, _combing_.

kenna, _know not_; kentna, _knew not_.

kens, _knows_.

kerches, _kerchiefs_.

kilted, _tucked up_.

kin, _kind_; a' kin, _all kind_.

kist, _chest_.

kitchey, _kitchen_.

know, _knoll_.

kye, _cows_.

kythe, _become_, _manifest_.

laigh, _low_.

lain, _alone_; ye're your lain, _you are alone_; hir lain, _her alone_.

lair, _learning_.

lane, _alone_; the same in combination with the pronouns _my_, _his_, _her_, _its_, _&c._

lap, _leapt_.

latten, _let_.

lauch, _laugh_.

laumer, 327, _amber_.

lave, _rest_.

lealest, _truest_, _chastest_.

lear, _lore_, _lesson_.

lease, _leash_.

lee, _lonesome_.

lee-lang, _livelong_.

lei, 132, _lonesome_.

len, _lie_.

lent, _leaned_.

let, _stop_, _delay_.

leuch, leugh, _laughed_.

lichtly, _lightly_.

lig, _lie_.

lighter, _delivered_.

limmers, _strumpets_.

linn, _the pool under a cataract_, _cataract_.

lith, _joint_.

lither, _naughty_, _wicked_.

looten, _let_.

loup, _leap_.

lourd, _liefer_, _rather_.

louted, _bent_.

louze, _loosen_.

lykewake, _watching of a dead body_.

mae, _more_.

maene, moan, _lamentation_.

maist, 58, maistly, _almost_.

make, _mate_.

mane, _moan_.

maries, _maids_.

marrow, _mate_.

mat, _may_.

maun, _must_.

maunna, _may not_.

may, _maid_.

meen, _moan_, _lament_.

message, _messenger_.

micht, _might_.

mind, _remember_.

mirk, _murky_.

mith, _might_.

Moll Syms, 359, _a celebrated dance tune of the 16th century_.

mools, _the earth of the grave_, _the dust of the dead_.

mot, _may_.

my lane, _alone by myself_.

niest, _next_.

nourice, _nurse_.

oer, ower, _over_, _too_.

ohon, _alas_.

owsen, _oxen_.

Owsenford, _Oxford_.

pa', pall, _rich cloth_.

Parish, _Paris_.

part, 151, _separate from_.

pat, _pot_.

pearlin' gear, _pearl ornaments_.

pin, _door-latch_.

plat, _plaited_.

plea, _quarrel_.

pot, _a pool_, _or deep place, in a river_.

prin, _pin_.

propine, _gift_.

putten down, _hung_.

queet, quit, _ancle_.

quhair, quhat, quhy, &c., _where_, _what_, _why_, _&c._

rair'd, _roared_.

rave, _tore off_.

reavel'd, _tangled_.

rede, _advice_, _advise_; 263, _story_.

reest, _roost_.

renown, [Buchan,] 169, _haughtiness_?

rigland shire, 331?

rin, _run_.

ritted, _routed_, _struck_.

riv't, _tear it_.

row, _roll_.

row'd, _rolled_.

sabelline, _sable_.

sanna, _shall not_.

sarbit, _an exclamation of sorrow_.

sark, _shirt_.

saugh, _willow_.

scheet, _school_.

schill, _shrill_.

scug, _expiate_.

see, (save and,) _protect_.

seen, sen, _then_, _since_.

send, 334, _the messengers sent for the bride at a wedding_.

sets, _suits_.

shed by, 77, _parted_, _put back_.

sheen, _shine_.

sheen, _shoes_.

sheet, _shoot_.

sheuch, _furrow_, _ditch_.

shimmerd, _shone_.

shot-window, _a projected window_.

sic, _such_.

sich, _sigh_.

sindle, _seldom_.

sinsyne, _since_.

skinkled, _sparkled_.

slack, _a gap or pass between two hills_.

slait, _passed across_, _whetted_.

slap, _a narrow pass between two hills_.

smore, _smother_.

snood, _a fillet or ribbon for the hair_.

socht, _sought_.

sorray, _sorrow_.

soum, sowm, _swim_.

spakes, _spokes_, _bars_.

speer, speir, _ask_.

spreckl'd, _speckled_.

stap, _stuff_.

stean, _stone_.

steek'd, _fastened_.

stey, _steep_.

stint, _stop_.

stock, _the forepart of a bed_.

stout, 300, _haughty_.

strae, stray, _straw_.

straiked, streaked, _stroked_, _drew_.

streek, _stretch_; streekit, _stretched_; streikit, _laid out_.

striped, _thrust_.

suld, _should_.

syke, _marshy bottom_.

syne, _then_, _afterwards_.

tane, _one_, [_after the._]

tasse, _cup_.

tate, _lock_ (_of hair_).

tee, _too_.

teem, _empty_.

teen, _sorrow_, _suffering_.

tent, _heed_.

thae, _these_.

the, _thrive_.

thegither, _together_.

thir, tho, _these_, _those_.

thorn'd, 335, _eaten_?

thought lang, _felt ennui_.

thouth, _thought_, _seemed_.

thraw, 302, _writhe_, _twist_; thrawen, _crooked_.

thresel-cock, _throstle_, _thrush_.

threw, 130, _throve_.

thrild upon a pinn. See _tirled_ below.

tift, _puff_ (_of wind_).

till, _to_, _on_.

tirled at the pin, _trilled or rattled, at the door-latch, to obtain entrance_.

tither, _other_.

tocher, _dowry_.

toomly, _empty_.

tow, _rope_.

triest, tryst, _make an assignation_.

true, _trow_.

twain, _part_.

twal, _twelve_.

twin, _part_; twinn'd, _deprived_, _parted_.

unco, _unknown_, _strange_.

virr, _strength_.

vow, _interjection of surprise_.

wad, _would_.

wadded, _wagered_, _staked_.

wadding, _wedding_.

wae, waeful', _sad_, _sorrowful_.

waked, _watched_.

walde, _would_.

wale, _choice_.

wambe, wame, _womb_.

wan, _reached_.

wand, wandie, _bough_, _wand_, _stick_.

wan na in, _got not in_.

wap, _throw_.

wappit, _beat_, _fluttered_.

warde, 35, _advise_, _forewarn_.

wark, _work_.

warlock, _wizzard_.

warstan, _worst_.

warstled, _wrestled_.

wat, _know_.

water-kelpy, _a malicious spirit thought to haunt fords and ferries, especially in storms, and to swell the waters beyond their ordinary limit, for the destruction of luckless travellers_.

wavers, 40, _wanders_.

wa'-wight, 383, _waled_, _picked_, _strong-men or warriors_. See vol. vi. 220, v. 15.

wean, _child_.

wee, _little_.

weed, _dress_.

weir-horse, _war-horse_.

werne, _were_.

wha is aught, _who is it owns_.

whang, _thong_.

whaten, _what_.

wicht, _strong_, _agile_.

widdershins, _the contrary way_, _round about_.

wide, _wade_.

wight, _strong_, _agile_.

win, _arrive_, _reach_, _come_, _get_.

winna, _will not_.

winsome, _charming_, _attractive_.

woe, _sad_.

won up, _got up_.

wood, _mad_; wood-wroth, _mad with anger_.

worth, _be_; wae worth you, _sorrow come upon you_.

wow, _alas_.

wraith, _wroth_.

wrongous, _wrong_.

wull, _will_.

wyte, _punish_, _blame_.

yae, _every_.

yare, _ready_.

yeats, yetts, _gates_.

yestreen, _yesterday_.

yird-fast, _fixed in the earth_.

yode, _went_.

yont, _beyond_, _further off_.

Yule, _Christmas_.

ze, zet, zour, &c., _ye_, _yet_, _your_.

* * * * *

Transcriber's Notes

Irregular and inconsistent spellings have been retained as in the original. Typographical errors such as wrongly placed line numbers and punctuation have been corrected without comment. Where changes have been made to the wording these are listed as follows:

Page 10, line 33: added missing opening quotation mark ("But look that ye tell na Gib your man,...)

Page 38, line note 157: reference originally read "177".

Page 55, line 47, 48: added missing quotation marks (Lye yont, lye yont, Willie," she says, / "For your sweat I downa bide O.")

Page 97, line 97: added final comma ("Now haud your tongue, my lord," she said, ...)

Page 118, line 58, 59: removed unnecessary quotation mark ("Get up, and let me in!-- / Get up, get up, lady mother," he says, ...)

Page 119, line 71: deleted duplicate "the" (Out o' the lady's grave grew a bonny red rose).

Page 184, line 50: deleted erroneous closing quotation mark (Says, "What means a' this mourning?)

Page 189, line 41 and page 396: "dapperpy" appears in the text but is "dapperby" in the Glossary (O he has pou'd aff his dapperby coat, ...)

Page 227, line 41: added open quotation mark ("And quhat wul ze leive to zour bairns and zour wife,)

Page 263 line 16: added missing period (A playing at the ba'."--)

Page 270, line 24: changed "Doan" to "Doun" (Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie)

Page 300: added missing closing quotation mark (... taken place in Bothwell church." SCOTT.)

Page 338, line 11: changed "Majorie" to "Marjorie" (That Lady Marjorie she gaes wi' child, ...)

Page 347: heading "Book IV" removed. Note that it does not appear in the Table of Contents and there are several references to ballads and page numbers after this point as part of the Appendix. Note also that Volume 3 starts with "Book III (continued)".

Page 352, line 42: added closing quotation mark ("Where leav'st thou thy youthful daughter, / Merry son of mine?")

Page 401, changed "widdershius" to "widdershins" (widdershins, _the contrary way_, _round about_.)