PART V.

Now in the fifth part I'll endeavour to shew, How things with her parents and sister did go; Her mother and sister of life [are] bereft, 195 And all alone the old knight he was left.

And hearing his daughter being married so brave, He said, "In my noddle a fancy I have; Drest like a poor man a journey I'll make, And see if on me some pity she'll take. 200

Then drest like a beggar he goes to the gate, Where stood his daughter, who appear'd very great; He said, "Noble lady, a poor man I be, And am now forced to crave charity."

With a blush she asked him from whence he came, 205 With that then he told her, and also his name; She said, "I'm your daughter, whom you slighted so, Yet, nevertheless, to you kindness I'll shew.

"Thro' mercy the Lord hath provided for me. Now, father, come in and sit down," then said she. 210 Then the best of provisions the house could afford, For to make him welcome was set on the board.

She said, "Thou art welcome; feed hearty, I pray; And, if you are willing, with me you shall stay So long as you live." Then he made this reply; 215 "I am only come thy love for to try.

"Thro' mercy, my child, I am rich, and not poor; I have gold and silver enough now in store; And for the love that at thy house I have found, For a portion I'll give thee ten thousand pounds." 220

So in a few days after, as I understand, This man he went home and sold off his land; And ten thousand pounds to his daughter did give, And now altogether in love they do live.

61. thee.

62. upon me.

98. answered him.

141. protest.

THE TAMING OF A SHREW.

Ritson's _Ancient Songs and Ballads_, ii. 242. "From one of the Sloan MSS. in the Museum, No. 1489. The writing of Charles the First's time." A far superior poem on the very popular subject of the disciplining of wives is that of _The Wife Lapped in Morels Skin_, printed in Utterson's _Select Pieces of Early Popular Poetry_, ii. 173, and as an appendix to the Shakespeare Society's edition of the old _Taming of a Shrew_. As a counterpart to these pieces may be mentioned the amusing poem called _Ane Ballad of Matrymonie_, in Laing's _Select Remains_, or, _The Honeymoon_, Aytoun's _Ballads of Scotland_, i. 284.

Al you that are assembled heere, Come listen to my song, But first a pardon I must crave, For feare of further wrong; I must entreat thes good wyves al 5 They wil not angrye be, And I will sing a merrye song, If they thereto agree.

Because the song I mean to sing Doth touch them most of all, 10 And loth I were that any one With me shold chide and brawle. I have anough of that at home, At boarde, and eake in bed; And once for singing this same song 15 My wyfe did breake my head.

But if thes good wyves all be pleasd, And pleased be the men, Ile venture one more broken pate, To sing it once agayne. 20 But first Ile tell you what it's cald, For feare you heare no more; 'Tis calde the Taming of a Shrew, Not often sung before.

And if I then shall sing the rest, 25 A signe I needs must have; Hold but your finger up to me, Or hem,--that's al I crave-- Then wil I sing it with a harte, And to it roundelye goe; 30 You know my mynde, now let me see Whether I shal sing't or no. _Hem._

Well then, I see you willing are That I shall sing the reste; To pleasure al thes good wyves heire 35 I meane to do my best. For I do see even by their lookes No hurte to me they thinke, And thus it chancte upon a tyme, (But first give me a drinke.) 40

Not long agoe a lustye lad Did woe a livelye lasse, And long it was before he cold His purpose bring to passe; Yet at the lenth it thus fell out, 45 She granted his petition, That she would be his wedded wyfe, But yet on this condicion.

That she shold weare the breeches on For one yeare and a day, 50 And not to be controld of him Whatsoere she'd do or say.[L52] She rulde, shee raignd, she had hir wil Even as she wold require; But marke what fell out afterwards, 55 Good wyves I you desyre.

She made him weary of his lyfe; He wisht that death wold come, And end his myserye at once, Ere that the yeare was run; 60 He thought it was the longest yeare That was since he was borne, But he cold not the matter mend, For he was thereto sworne.

Yet hath the longest day his date; 65 For this we al do know, Although the day be neer soe long, To even soone wil it goe. So fell it out with hir at lenth, The yeare was now come out; 70 The sun, and moone, and all the starres, Their race had run about.

Then he began to rouse himselfe, And to his wyfe he saide, "Since that your raigne is at an end, 75 Now know me for your heade." But she that had borne swaye so long Wold not be under brought, But stil hir tounge on pattens ran, Though many blowes she caught. 80

He bet hir backe, he bet hir syde, He bet hir blacke and blew; But for all this she wolde not mend, But worse and worse she grew. When that he saw she wolde not mend, 85 Another way wrought hee; He mewde hir up as men mew hawkes, Where noe light she cold see.

And kept hir without meate or drinke For four dayes space and more; 90 Yet for all this she was as ill As ere she was before. When that he saw she wold not mend, Nor that she wold be quiet, Neither for stroakes nor locking up, 95 Nor yet for want of dyet,

He was almost at his wits end, He knew not what to doe; So that with gentlenes againe He gane his wyfe to woo. 100 But she soone bad him holde his peace, And sware it was his best, But then he thought him of a wyle Which made him be at rest.

He told a frend or two of his 105 What he had in his mynde; Who went with him into his house, And when they all had dynde, "Good wyfe," quoth he, "thes frends of myne Come hither for your good; 110 There lyes a vayne under your toung, Must now be letten blood."

Then she began to use hir tearmes, And rayléd at them fast; Yet bound they hir for al hir strenth 115 Unto a poaste at laste, And let hir blood under the toung, And tho she bled full sore, Yet did she rayle at them as fast As ere she raylde before. 120

"Wel then," quoth he, "the faulte I see, She hath it from her mother; It is hir teeth infects hir toung, And it can be noe other; And since I now doe know the cause, 125 Whatsoever to me befall, Ile plucke hir teeth out of hir toung, Perhaps hir toung and all."

And with a payre of pinsers strong He pluckt a great tooth out, 130 And for to plucke another thence, He quicklye went about. But then she held up both her hands, And did for mercye pray, Protesting that against his will, 135 She wold not doe nor saye.

Whereat hir husband was right glad, That she had changde hir mynde, For from that tyme unto hir death She proved both good and kynde. 140 Then did he take hir from the poast, And did unbind hir then; I wold al shrews were served thus; Al good wyves say Amen.

52. she did or said.

TITUS ANDRONICUS'S COMPLAINT.

On the 6th of February, 1593-4, _A noble Roman Historye of Tytus Andronicus_, was entered in the Stationers' Registers, to John Danter, and also "the ballad thereof." The earliest known edition of Shakespeare's play was in 1600. The differences between this play and the ballad are thus stated by Percy.

"In the ballad is no mention of the contest for the empire between the two brothers, the composing of which makes the ungrateful treatment of Titus afterwards the more flagrant: neither is there any notice taken of his sacrificing one of Tamora's sons, which the tragic poet has assigned as the original cause of all her cruelties. In the play, Titus loses twenty-one of his sons in war, and kills another for assisting Bassianus to carry off Lavinia; the reader will find it different in the ballad. In the latter she is betrothed to the Emperor's son: in the play to his brother. In the tragedy, only two of his sons fall into the pit, and the third, being banished, returns to Rome with a victorious army, to avenge the wrongs of his house: in the ballad, all three are entrapped, and suffer death. In the scene, the Emperor kills Titus, and is in return stabbed by Titus's surviving son. Here Titus kills the Emperor, and afterwards himself." * * * * *

"The following is given from a copy in _The Golden Garland_, entitled as above; compared with three others, two of them in black letter in the Pepys collection, entitled _The Lamentable and Tragical History of Titus Andronicus_, &c. To the Tune of _Fortune_. Printed for E. Wright.--Unluckily, none of these have any dates." Percy's _Reliques_, i. 238.

You noble minds, and famous martiall wights, That in defence of native country fights, Give eare to me, that ten yeeres fought for Rome, Yet reapt disgrace at my returning home.

In Rome I lived in fame fulle threescore yeeres, 5 My name beloved was of all my peeres; Fulle five-and-twenty valiant sonnes I had, Whose forwarde vertues made their father glad.

For when Romes foes their warlike forces bent, Against them stille my sonnes and I were sent; 10 Against the Goths full ten yeeres weary warre We spent, receiving many a bloudy scarre.

Just two-and-twenty of my sonnes were slaine Before we did returne to Rome againe: Of five-and-twenty sonnes, I brought but three 15 Alive, the stately towers of Rome to see.

When wars were done, I conquest home did bring, And did present my prisoners to the king, The queene of Goths, her sons, and eke a Moore, Which did such murders, like was nere before. 20

The emperour did make this queene his wife, Which bred in Rome debate and deadly strife; The Moore, with her two sonnes, did growe soe proud, That none like them in Rome might bee allowd.

The Moore soe pleas'd this new-made empress' eie, 25 That she consented to him secretlye For to abuse her husbands marriage bed, And soe in time a blackamore she bred.

Then she, whose thoughts to murder were inclinde, Consented with the Moore of bloody minde, 30 Against myselfe, my kin, and all my friendes, In cruell sort to bring them to their endes.

Soe when in age I thought to live in peace, Both care and griefe began then to increase: Amongst my sonnes I had one daughter bright, 35 Which joy'd and pleased best my aged sight.

My deare Lavinia was betrothed than To Cesars sonne, a young and noble man: Who, in a hunting, by the emperours wife, And her two sonnes, bereaved was of life. 40

He, being slaine, was cast in cruel wise Into a darksome den from light of skies: The cruell Moore did come that way as then With my three sonnes, who fell into the den.

The Moore then fetcht the emperour with speed, 45 For to accuse them of that murderous deed; And when my sonnes within the den were found, In wrongfull prison they were cast and bound.

But nowe behold what wounded most my mind: The empresses two sonnes, of savage kind, 50 My daughter ravished without remorse, And took away her honour, quite perforce.

When they had tasted of soe sweete a flowre, Fearing this sweete should shortly turne to sowre, They cutt her tongue, whereby she could not tell 55 How that dishonoure unto her befell.

Then both her hands they basely cutt off quite, Whereby their wickednesse she could not write, Nor with her needle on her sampler sowe The bloudye workers of her direfull woe. 60

My brother Marcus found her in the wood, Staining the grassie ground with purple bloud, That trickled from her stumpes, and bloudlesse armes: Noe tongue at all she had to tell her harmes.

But when I sawe her in that woefull case, 65 With teares of bloud I wet mine aged face: For my Lavinia I lamented more Then for my two-and-twenty sonnes before.

When as I sawe she could not write nor speake, With grief mine aged heart began to breake; 70 We spred an heape of sand upon the ground, Whereby those bloudy tyrants out we found.

For with a staffe, without the helpe of hand, She writt these wordes upon the plat of sand: "The lustfull sonnes of the proud emperesse 75 Are doers of this hateful wickednesse."

I tore the milk-white hairs from off mine head, I curst the houre wherein I first was bred; I wisht this hand, that fought for countries fame, In cradle rockt, had first been stroken lame. 80

The Moore, delighting still in villainy, Did say, to sett my sonnes from prison free, I should unto the king my right hand give, And then my three imprisoned sonnes should live.

The Moore I caus'd to strike it off with speede, 85 Whereat I grieved not to see it bleed, But for my sonnes would willingly impart, And for their ransome send my bleeding heart.

But as my life did linger thus in paine, They sent to me my bootlesse hand againe, 90 And therewithal the heades of my three sonnes, Which filled my dying heart with fresher moanes.

Then past reliefe, I upp and downe did goe, And with my teares writ in the dust my woe: I shot my arrowes towards heaven hie, 95 And for revenge to hell often did crye.

The empresse then, thinking that I was mad, Like Furies she and both her sonnes were clad, (She nam'd Revenge, and Rape and Murder they) To undermine and heare what I would say. 100

I fed their foolish veines a certaine space,[L101] Untill my friendes did find a secret place, Where both her sonnes unto a post were bound, And just revenge in cruell sort was found.

I cut their throates, my daughter held the pan 105 Betwixt her stumpes, wherein the bloud it ran: And then I ground their bones to powder small, And made a paste for pyes streight therewithall.

Then with their fleshe I made two mighty pyes, And at a banquet, served in stately wise, 110 Before the empresse set this loathsome meat; So of her sonnes own flesh she well did eat.

Myselfe bereav'd my daughter then of life, The empresse then I slewe with bloudy knife, And stabb'd the emperour immediatelie, 115 And then myself: even soe did Titus die.

Then this revenge against the Moore was found; Alive they sett him halfe in the ground, Whereas he stood untill such time he starv'd: And soe God send all murderers may be serv'd. 120

101. i. e. encouraged them in their foolish humours, or fancies. P.

JOHN DORY.

This ballad, formerly a very great favorite, and continually alluded to in works of the 16th and 17th centuries, is found among the "Freemen's Songs of three voices" in _Deuteromelia_, 1609; also in Playford's _Musical Companion_, 1687, and for one voice in _Wit and Mirth, or Pills to Purge Melancholy_, vol. i. 1698 and 1707. It is, however, much older than any of these books.

Carew, in his _Survey of Cornwall_, 1602, p. 135, writes: "Moreover, the prowess of one Nicholas, son to a widow near Foy, is descanted upon in an old three-man's song, namely, how he fought bravely at sea with John Dory, (a Genowey, as I conjecture,) set forth by John, the French King, and, after much bloodshed on both sides, took, and slew him, in revenge of the great ravine and cruelty which he had fore committed upon the Englishmen's goods and bodies." The only King John that could be meant here is of course John II. the Good, (see v. 10,) who was taken prisoner at Poitiers, and died in 1364. No John Doria is mentioned as being in the service of John the Good.--Ritson's _Ancient Songs_, ii. 57, and Chappell's _Popular Music_, p. 67.

As it fell on a holy-day, And upon 'a' holy-tide-a, John Dory bought him an ambling nag, To Paris for to ride-a.

And when John Dory to Paris was come, 5 A little before the gate-a, John Dory was fitted, the porter was witted, To let him in thereat-a.

The first man that John Dory did meet, Was good king John of France-a; 10 John Dory could well of his courtesie, But fell downe in a trance-a.

"A pardon, a pardon, my liege and my king, For my merie men and for me-a; And all the churles in merie England, 15 Ile bring them all bound to thee-a."

And Nicholl was then a Cornish man, A little beside Bohide-a, And he mande forth a good blacke barke, With fifty good oares on a side-a. 20

"Run up, my boy, unto the maine top, And looke what thou canst spie-a:" "Who ho! who ho! a goodly ship I do see, I trow it be John Dory-a."

They hoist their sailes, both top and top, 25 The meisseine and all was tride-a; And every man stood to his lot, Whatever should betide-a.

The roring cannons then were plide, And dub-a-dub went the drumme-a; 30 The braying trumpets lowd they cride, To courage both all and some-a.

The grapling-hooks were brought at length, The browne bill and the sword-a; John Dory at length, for all his strength, 35 Was clapt fast under board-a.

SIR EGLAMORE.

Courage Crowned with Conquest: Or, a brief relation how that valiant knight and heroick champion, Sir Eglamore, bravely fought with, and manfully slew, a terrible huge great monstrous dragon. To a pleasant new tune.

This ballad is found in _The Melancholie Knight_, by Samuel Rowlands, 1615; in the _Antidote to Melancholy_, 1661; in _Merry Drollery Complete_, 1661; in Dryden's _Miscellany Poems_, iv. 104; in the "Bagford and Roxburghe collections of Ballads," &c. (Chappell.) The various editions differ considerably. The following is from Ritson's _Ancient Songs_, (ed. 1790,) p. 211, where it was reprinted from a black-letter copy dated 1672.

Sir Eglamore, that valiant knight, _With his fa, la, lanctre down dilie_, He fetcht his sword and he went to fight, _With his fa, la, lanctre, &c._ As he went over hill and dale, All cloathed in his coat of male, _With his fa, la, lanctre, &c._

A huge great dragon leapt out of his den, 5 Which had killed the Lord knows how many men; But when he saw Sir Eglamore, Good lack had ye seen how this dragon did roare!

This dragon he had a plaguy hide, Which could both sword and spear abide; 10 He could not enter with hacks and cuts, Which vext the knight to the very hearts blood and guts.

All the trees in the wood did shake, Stars did tremble, and men did quake; But had ye seen how the birds lay peeping, 15 'Twould have made a mans heart to fall a-weeping.

But it was too late to fear, For now it was come to fight dog, fight bear; And as a yawning he did fall, He thrust his sword in, hilt and all. 20

But now as the knight in choler did burn, He owed the dragon a shrewd good turn: In at his mouth his sword he bent, The hilt appeared at his fundament.

Then the dragon, like a coward, began to fly 25 Unto his den, that was hard by; And there he laid him down and roar'd; The knight was vexed for his sword.

"The sword, that was a right good blade, As ever Turk or Spaniard made, 30 I for my part do forsake it, And he that will fetch it, let him take it."

When all this was done, to the ale-house he went, And by and by his two pence he spent; For he was so hot with tugging with the dragon, 35 That nothing would quench him but a whole flaggon.

Now God preserve our King and Queen, And eke in London may be seen As many knights, and as many more, And all so good as Sir Eglamore. 40

JEPHTHAH, JUDGE OF ISRAEL.

We have thought it necessary to include in this collection one or two specimens of ballads founded on stories in the Jewish Scriptures. Besides those here selected, it may be well to refer to the following: _The Constancy of Susanna_, (cited in _Twelfth Night_,) Evans, i. 11; _David and Bathsheba_, _id._ p. 291; _Tobias_, _Old Ballads_, ii. 158; _Holofernes_, _The Garland of Goodwill_, p. 85, and _Old Ballads_, ii. 166.

Every one will remember that the ballad of _Jephthah_ is quoted in _Hamlet_ (Act II. sc. 2). Percy published an imperfect copy of this piece, written down from the recollection of a lady (_Reliques_, i. 193). The following is from a black-letter copy reprinted in Evans, i. 7, which was entitled "_Jepha, Judge of Israel_."

I have read that many years agoe, When Jeph[th]a, judge of Israel, Had one fair daughter and no moe,[L3] Whom he loved passing well. And as by lot, God wot, 5 It came to passe, most like it was, Great warrs there should be, And who should be the chiefe but he, but he.

When Jeph[th]a was appointed now Chiefe captain of the company, 10 To God the Lord he made a vow, If he might have the victory, At his return, to burn, For his offering, the first quick thing, Should meet with him then, 15 From his house when he came agen, agen.

It chanced so these warrs were done, And home he came with victory; His daughter out of doors did run To meet her father speedily: 20 And all the way did play To taber and pipe, and many a stripe, And notes full high, For joy that he was so nigh, so nigh.

When Jeph[th]a did perceive and see 25 His daughter firm and formostly, He rent his cloths, and tore his haire, And shrieked out most piteously: "For thou art she," quoth he, "Hath brought me low--alas, for woe! 30 And troubled me so, That I cannot tell what to doe, to doe.

"For I have made a vow," quoth he, Which must not be diminishéd; A sacrifice to God on high; 35 My promise must be finishéd." "As ye have spoke, provoke No further care, but to prepare Your will to fulfill, According to God's will, God's will. 40

"For sithence God has given you might To overcome your enemies, Let one be offer'd up, as right, For to perform all promises. And this let be," quoth she, 45 "As thou hast said; be not afraid; Although it be I, Keep promise with God on high, on high.

"But father, do so much for me As let me go to wildernesse, 50 There to bewaile my virginity, Three months to bemoan my heavinesse. And let there go some moe, Like maids with me." "Content," quoth he, And sent her away, 55 To mourn till her latter day, her day.

And when that time was come and gone That she should sacrificed be, This virgin sacrificed was, For to fulfill all promises. 60 As some say, for aye The virgins there, three times a year, Like sorrow fulfill For the daughter of Jeph[th]a still, still, still.

3. more

SAMSON.

Evans's _Old Ballads_, i. 283, from a black-letter copy.

When Samson was a tall young man, His power and strength increased then, And in the host and tribe of Dan The Lord did bless him still. It chanced so upon a day, 5 As he was walking on his way, He saw a maiden fresh and gay In Timnath.

With whom he fell so sore in love, That he his fancy could not move; 10 His parents therefore he did prove, And craved their good wills: "I have found out a wife," quoth he; "I pray ye, father, give her me; Though she a stranger's daughter be, 15 I pass not."

Then did bespeak his parents dear, "Have we not many maidens here, Of country and acquaintance near, For thee to love and like?" 20 "O no," quoth Samson presently, "Not one so pleasant in my eye, Whom I could find so faithfully To fancy."

At length they granted their consent, 25 And so with Samson forth they went; To see the maid was their intent, Which was so fair and bright. But as they were a-going there, A lion put them in great fear, 30 Whom Samson presently did tear In pieces.

When they were come unto the place, They were agreed in the case; The wedding day appointed was, 35 And when the time was come, As Samson went for beauty's fees, The lion's carcass there he sees, Wherein a sort of honey bees Had swarmed. 40

Then closely Samson went his way, And not a word thereof did say, Untill the merry feasting-day, Unto the company. "A riddle I will shew," quoth he; 45 "The meaning if you tell to me, Within seven days I will give ye Great riches.

"But if the meaning you do miss, And cannot shew me what it is, 50 Then shall you give to me i-wiss So much as I have said." "Put forth the riddle then," quoth they, "And we will tell it by our day, Or we will lose, as thou dost say, 55 The wager."

"Then make," quoth he, "the total sum. Out of the eater meat did come, And from the strong did sweetness run; Declare it, if you can." 60 And when they heard the riddle told, Their hearts within them waxed cold, For none of them could then unfold The meaning.

Then unto Samson's wife went they, 65 And threatened her, without delay, If she would not the thing bewray, To burn her father's house. Then Samson's wife, with grief and woe, Desired him the same to shew, And when she knew, she straight did go, 70 To tell them.

Then were they all full glad of this; To tell the thing they did not miss; "What stronger beast than a lion is? 75 What sweeter meat than honey?" Then Samson answered them full round, "If my heifer had not ploughed the ground, So easily you had not found My riddle. 80

Then Samson did his losses pay, And to his father went his way: But while with them he there did stay,[L83] His wife forsook him quite, And took another to her love, 85 Which Samson's anger much did move: To plague them therefore he did prove His cunning.

A subtle thought he then had found, To burn their corn upon the ground; 90 Their vineyards he destroyed round, Which made them fret and fume. But when they knew that Samson he Had done them all this injury, Because his wife did him deny, 95 They killed her.

And afterward they had decreed To murder Samson for that deed; Three thousand men they sent with speed, To bring him bound to them. 100 But he did break his cords apace, And with the jaw-bone of an ass A thousand men, ere he did pass, He killed.

When all his foes were laid in dust, 105 Then Samson was full sore athirst; In God therefore was all his trust, To help his fainting heart: For liquor thereabout was none: The Lord therefore from the jaw-bone 110 Did make fresh water spring, alone To help him.

Then Samson had a joyfull spright, And in a city lay that night, Whereas his foes, with deadly spite, 115 Did seek his life to spill: But he at midnight then awakes, And tearing down the city gates, With him away the same he takes Most stoutly. 120

Then on Delilah, fair and bright, Did Samson set his whole delight, Whom he did love both day and night, Which wrought his overthrow. For she with sweet words did entreat, 125 That for her sake he would repeat Wherein his strength, that was so great, Consisted.

At length, unto his bitter fall, And through her suit, which was not small, 130 He did not let to show her all The secrets of his heart. "If that my hair be cut," quoth he, "Which now so fair and long you see, Like other men then shall I be 135 In weakness."

Then through deceit which was so deep, She lulled Samson fast asleep; A man she call'd, which she did keep, To cut off all his hair. 140 Then did she call his hateful foes, Ere Samson from her lap arose, Who could not then withstand their blows, For weakness.

To bind him fast they did devise, 145 Then did they put out both his eyes; In prison wofully he lies, And there he grinds the mill. But God remembered all his pain, And did restore his strength again, 150 Although that bound he did remain In prison.

The Philistines now were glad of this; For joy they made a feast i-wiss, And all their princes did not miss 155 To come unto the same. And being merry bent that day, For Samson they did send straightway, That they might laugh to see him play Among them. 160

Then to the house was Samson led, And when he had their fancies fed, He pluck'd the house upon their head, And down they tumbled all. So that with grief and deadly pain, 165 Three thousand persons there were slain; Thus Samson then, with all his train, Was brained.

83. But wisht.

QUEEN DIDO, OR, THE WANDERING PRINCE OF TROY.

Percy's _Reliques_, iii. 240, and Ritson's _Ancient Songs and Ballads_, ii. 101.

"Such is the title given in the Editor's folio MS. to this excellent old ballad, which, in the common printed copies, is inscribed, _Eneas, wandering Prince of Troy_. It is here given from that MS. collated with two different printed copies, both in black-letter, in the Pepys Collection." PERCY.

As other ballads on classical subjects, may be mentioned _Constant Penelope, Reliques_, iii. 324; _Pyramus and Thisbe_, in _A Handfull of Pleasant Delites_, p. 42 (Park's _Heliconia_, vol. ii.); and _Hero and Leander_ in Collier's _Roxburghe Ballads_, p. 227, from which was formed the song, or ballad, in the _Tea-Table Miscellany_, ii. 138, Ritson's _Scotish Songs_, ii. 198, &c.

When Troy towne had, for ten yeeres 'past,'[L1] Withstood the Greekes in manfull wise, Then did their foes encrease soe fast, That to resist none could suffice: Wast lye those walls, that were soe good, 5 And corne now growes where Troy towne stoode.

Æneas, wandering prince of Troy, When he for land long time had sought, At length arriving with great joy, To mighty Carthage walls was brought; 10 Where Dido queene, with sumptuous feast, Did entertaine that wandering guest.

And, as in hall at meate they sate, The queene, desirous newes to heare, Says, "Of thy Troys unhappy fate, 15 Declare to me, thou Trojan deare: The heavy hap and chance soe bad, That thou, poore wandering prince, hast had."

And then anon this comelye knight, With words demure, as he cold well, 20 Of his unhappy ten yeares 'fight,'[L21] Soe true a tale began to tell, With wordes soe sweete, and sighes soe deepe, That oft he made them all to weepe.

And then a thousand sighes he fet, 25 And every sigh brought teares amaine; That where he sate the place was wett, As though he had seene those warrs againe: Soe that the queene, with ruth therfore, Said, "Worthy prince, enough, no more." 30

And then the darksome night drew on, And twinkling starres the skye bespred, When he his dolefull tale had done, And every one was layd in bedd: Where they full sweetly tooke their rest, 35 Save only Dido's boyling brest.

This silly woman never slept, But in her chamber, all alone, As one unhappye, alwayes wept, And to the walls shee made her mone; 40 That she shold still desire in vaine The thing she never must obtaine.

And thus in grieffe she spent the night, Till twinkling starres the skye were fled, And Ph[oe]bus, with his glistering light, 45 Through misty cloudes appeared red; Then tidings came to her anon, That all the Trojan shipps were gone.

And then the queene with bloody knife Did arme, her hart as hard as stone; 50 Yet, something loth to loose her life, In woefull wise she made her mone; And, rowling on her carefull bed, With sighes and sobbes, these words shee sayd:

"O wretched Dido queene!" quoth shee, 55 "I see thy end approacheth neare; For hee is fled away from thee, Whom thou didst love and hold so deare: What, is he gone, and passed by? O hart, prepare thyselfe to dye. 60

"Though reason says thou shouldst forbeare, And stay thy hand from bloudy stroke, Yet fancy bids thee not to fear, Which fetter'd thee in Cupids yoke. Come death," quoth shee, "resolve my smart!"-- 65 And with those words shee peerced her hart.

When death had pierced the tender hart Of Dido, Carthaginian queene, Whose bloudy knife did end the smart, Which shee sustain'd in mournfull teene, 70 Æneas being shipt and gone, Whose flattery caused all her mone,

Her funerall most costly made, And all things finisht mournfullye, Her body fine in mold was laid, 75 Where itt consumed speedilye: Her sisters teares her tombe bestrewde, Her subjects griefe their kindnesse shewed.

Then was Æneas in an ile In Grecya, where he stayd long space, 80 Whereas her sister in short while Writt to him to his vile disgrace; In speeches bitter to his mind Shee told him plaine he was unkind.

"False-harted wretch," quoth shee, "thou art; 85 And traiterouslye thou hast betraid Unto thy lure a gentle hart, Which unto thee much welcome made; My sister deare, and Carthage' joy, Whose folly bred her deere annoy. 90

"Yett on her death-bed when shee lay, Shee prayd for thy prosperitye, Beseeching God, that every day Might breed thy great felicitye: Thus by thy meanes I lost a friend; 95 Heaven send thee such untimely end."

When he these lines, full fraught with gall, Perused had, and wayed them right, His lofty courage then did fall; And straight appeared in his sight 100 Queene Dido's ghost, both grim and pale; Which made this valliant souldier quaile.

"Æneas," quoth this ghastly ghost, "My whole delight, when I did live, Thee of all men I loved most; 105 My fancy and my will did give; For entertainment I thee gave, Unthankefully thou didst me grave.

"Therfore prepare thy flitting soule To wander with me in the aire, 110 Where deadlye griefe shall make it howle, Because of me thou tookst no care: Delay not time, thy glasse is run, Thy date is past, thy life is done."

"O stay a while, thou lovely sprite; 115 Be not soe hasty to convay My soule into eternall night, Where itt shall ne're behold bright day: O doe not frowne; thy angry looke Hath made my breath my life forsooke. 120

"But, woe is me! all is in vaine, And bootless is my dismall crye; Time will not be recalled againe, Nor thou surcease before I dye. O lett me live, and make amends 125 To some of thy most dearest friends.

"But seeing thou obdurate art, And wilt no pittye on me show, Because from thee I did depart, And left unpaid what I did owe, 130 I must content myselfe to take What lott to me thou wilt partake."

And thus, as one being in a trance, A multitude of uglye feinds About this woffull prince did dance: 135 He had no helpe of any friends: His body then they tooke away, And no man knew his dying day.

1, 21. war. MS. and pr. cop.

GEORGE BARNWELL.

Percy's _Reliques_, iii. 297.

"The subject of this ballad is sufficiently popular from the modern play which is founded upon it. This was written by George Lillo, a jeweller of London, and first acted about 1730.--As for the ballad, it was printed at least as early as the middle of the last century.

"It is here given from three old printed copies, which exhibit a strange intermixture of Roman and black-letter. It is also collated with another copy in the Ashmole Collection at Oxford, which is thus entitled: "_An excellent ballad of George Barnwell, an apprentice of London, who ... thrice robbed his master, and murdered his uncle in Ludlow_. The tune is _The Merchant_."

There is another copy in Ritson's _Ancient Songs_, ii. 156. Throughout the Second Part, the first line of each stanza has, in the old editions, two superfluous syllables, which Percy ejected; and Ritson has adopted the emendation.

THE FIRST PART.

All youths of fair Englànd That dwell both far and near, Regard my story that I tell, And to my song give ear.

A London lad I was, 5 A merchant's prentice bound; My name George Barnwell; that did spend My master many a pound.

Take heed of harlots then, And their enticing trains; 10 For by that means I have been brought To hang alive in chains.

As I upon a day Was walking through the street, About my master's business, 15 A wanton I did meet.

A gallant dainty dame And sumptuous in attire; With smiling look she greeted me, And did my name require. 20

Which when I had declar'd, She gave me then a kiss, And said, if I would come to her I should have more than this.

"Fair mistress," then quoth I, 25 "If I the place may know, This evening I will be with you; For I abroad must go,

"To gather monies in, That are my master's due: 30 And ere that I do home return I'll come and visit you."

"Good Barnwell," then quoth she, "Do thou to Shoreditch come, And ask for Mrs. Milwood's house, 35 Next door unto the Gun.

"And trust me on my truth, If thou keep touch with me, My dearest friend, as my own heart Thou shalt right welcome be." 40

Thus parted we in peace, And home I passed right; Then went abroad, and gathered in, By six o'clock at night,

An hundred pound and one: 45 With bag under my arm I went to Mrs. Millwood's house, And thought on little harm.

And knocking at the door, Straightway herself came down; 50 Rustling in most brave attire, With hood and silken gown.

Who, through her beauty bright, So gloriously did shine, That she amaz'd my dazzling eyes, 55 She seemed so divine.

She took me by the hand, And with a modest grace, "Welcome, sweet Barnwell," then quoth she, "Unto this homely place. 60

"And since I have thee found As good as thy word to be, A homely supper, ere we part, Thou shalt take here with me."

"O pardon me," quoth I, 65 "Fair mistress, I you pray; For why, out of my master's house So long I dare not stay."

"Alas, good sir," she said, "Are you so strictly ty'd, 70 You may not with your dearest friend One hour or two abide?

"Faith, then the case is hard; If it be so," quoth she, "I would I were a prentice bound, 75 To live along with thee.

"Therefore, my dearest George, List well what I shall say, And do not blame a woman much, Her fancy to bewray. 80

"Let not affection's force Be counted lewd desire; Nor think it not immodesty, I should thy love require."

With that she turn'd aside, 85 And with a blushing red, A mournful motion she bewray'd By hanging down her head.

A handkerchief she had, All wrought with silk and gold, 90 Which she, to stay her trickling tears, Before her eyes did hold.

This thing unto my sight Was wondrous rare and strange, And in my soul and inward thought 95 It wrought a sudden change:

That I so hardy grew To take her by the hand, Saying, "Sweet mistress, why do you So dull and pensive stand?" 100

"Call me no mistress now, But Sarah, thy true friend, Thy servant, Milwood, honouring thee, Until her life hath end.

"If thou wouldst here alledge 105 Thou art in years a boy; So was Adonis, yet was he Fair Venus' only joy."

Thus I, who ne'er before Of woman found such grace, 110 But seeing now so fair a dame Give me a kind embrace,

I supt with her that night, With joys that did abound; And for the same paid presently, 115 In mony twice three pound.

An hundred kisses then, For my farewel she gave; Crying, "Sweet Barnwell, when shall I Again thy company have? 120

"O stay not hence too long; Sweet George, have me in mind:" Her words bewicht my childishness, She uttered them so kind.

So that I made a vow, 125 Next Sunday, without fail, With my sweet Sarah once again To tell some pleasant tale.

When she heard me say so, The tears fell from her eye; 130 "O George," quoth she, "if thou dost fail, Thy Sarah sure will dye."

Though long, yet loe! at last, The appointed day was come, That I must with my Sarah meet; 135 Having a mighty sum[L136]

Of money in my hand, Unto her house went I, Whereas my love upon her bed In saddest sort did lye. 140

"What ails my heart's delight, My Sarah dear?" quoth I; "Let not my love lament and grieve, Nor sighing pine and die.

"But tell me, dearest friend, 145 What may thy woes amend, And thou shalt lack no means of help, Though forty pound I spend."

With that she turn'd her head, And sickly thus did say: 150 "Oh me, sweet George, my grief is great; Ten pound I have to pay

Unto a cruel wretch; And God he knows," quoth she, "I have it not." "Tush, rise," I said, 155 "And take it here of me.

"Ten pounds, nor ten times ten, Shall make my love decay;" Then from my bag into her lap, I cast ten pound straightway. 160

All blithe and pleasant then, To banqueting we go; She proffered me to lye with her, And said it should be so.

And after that same time, 165 I gave her store of coyn, Yea, sometimes fifty pound at once; All which I did purloyn.

And thus I did pass on; Until my master then 170 Did call to have his reckoning in Cast up among his men.

The which when as I heard, I knew not what to say: For well I knew that I was out 175 Two hundred pound that day.

Then from my master straight I ran in secret sort; And unto Sarah Milwood there My case I did report. 180

_But how she used this youth, In this his care and woe, And all a strumpet's wiley ways, The second part may showe._

136. The having a sum of money with him on Sunday, &c., shows this narrative to have been penned before the civil wars: the strict observance of the Sabbath was owing to the change of manners at that period. PERCY.

THE SECOND PART.

"Young Barnwell comes to thee, Sweet Sarah, my delight; I am undone, unless thou stand My faithful friend this night.

"Our master to accompts 5 Hath just occasion found; And I am caught behind the hand Above two hundred pound.

"And now his wrath to 'scape, My love, I fly to thee, 10 Hoping some time I may remaine In safety here with thee."

With that she knit her brows, And looking all aquoy, Quoth she, "What should I have to do 15 With any prentice boy?

"And seeing you have purloyn'd Your master's goods away, The case is bad, and therefore here You shall no longer stay." 20

"Why, dear, thou know'st," I said, "How all which I could get, "I gave it, and did spend it all Upon thee every whit."

Quoth she, "Thou art a knave, 25 To charge me in this sort, Being a woman of credit fair, And known of good report.

"Therefore I tell thee flat, Be packing with good speed; 30 I do defie thee from my heart, And scorn thy filthy deed."

"Is this the friendship, that You did to me protest? Is this the great affection, which 35 You so to me exprest?

"Now fie on subtle shrews! The best is, I may speed To get a lodging any where For money in my need. 40

"False woman, now farewell; Whilst twenty pound doth last, My anchor in some other haven With freedom I will cast."

When she perceiv'd by this, 45 I had store of money there, "Stay, George," quoth she, "thou art too quick: Why, man, I did but jeer.

"Dost think for all my speech, That I would let thee go? 50 Faith, no," said she, "my love to thee I-wiss is more than so."

"You scorne a prentice boy, I heard you just now swear: Wherefore I will not trouble you:" 55 "Nay, George, hark in thine ear;

"Thou shalt not go to-night, What chance soe're befall; But man, we'll have a bed for thee, Or else the devil take all." 60

So I by wiles bewitcht, And snar'd with fancy still, Had then no power to 'get' away, Or to withstand her will.

For wine on wine I call'd, 65 And cheer upon good cheer; And nothing in the world I thought For Sarah's love too dear.

Whilst in her company, I had such merriment, 70 All, all too little I did think, That I upon her spent.

"A fig for care and thought! When all my gold is gone, In faith, my girl, we will have more, 75 Whoever I light upon.

"My father's rich; why then Should I want store of gold?" "Nay, with a father, sure," quoth she, "A son may well make bold." 80

"I've a sister richly wed; I'll rob her ere I'll want." "Nay then," quoth Sarah, "they may well Consider of your scant."

"Nay, I an uncle have; 85 At Ludlow he doth dwell; He is a grazier, which in wealth Doth all the rest excell.

"Ere I will live in lack, And have no coyn for thee, 90 I'll rob his house, and murder him." "Why should you not?" quoth she.

"Was I a man, ere I Would live in poor estate, On father, friends, and all my kin, 95 I would my talons grate.

"For without money, George, A man is but a beast: But bringing money, thou shalt be Always my welcome guest. 100

"For shouldst thou be pursued With twenty hues and cryes, And with a warrant searched for With Argus' hundred eyes,

"Yet here thou shalt be safe; 105 Such privy wayes there be, That if they sought an hundred years, They could not find out thee."

And so carousing both Their pleasures to content, 110 George Barnwell had in little space His money wholly spent.

Which done, to Ludlow straight He did provide to go, To rob his wealthy uncle there; 115 His minion would it so.

And once he thought to take His father by the way, But that he fear'd his master had Took order for his stay.[L120] 120

Unto his uncle then He rode with might and main, Who with a welcome and good cheer Did Barnwell entertain.

One fortnight's space he stayed, 125 Until it chanced so, His uncle with his cattle did Unto a market go.

His kinsman rode with him, Where he did see right plain, 130 Great store of money he had took: When, coming home again,

Sudden within a wood, He struck his uncle down, And beat his brains out of his head; 135 So sore he crackt his crown.

Then seizing fourscore pound, To London straight he hyed, And unto Sarah Millwood all The cruell fact descryed. 140

"Tush, 'tis no matter, George, So we the money have To have good cheer in jolly sort, And deck us fine and brave."

Thus lived in filthy sort, 145 Until their store was gone: When means to get them any more, I-wis poor George had none.

Therefore in railing sort, She thrust him out of door; 150 Which is the just reward of those, Who spend upon a whore.

"O do me not disgrace In this my need," quoth he: She called him thief and murderer, 155 With all the spight might be.

To the constable she sent, To have him apprehended; And shewed how far, in each degree, He had the laws offended. 160

When Barnwell saw her drift, To sea he got straightway; Where fear and sting of conscience Continually on him lay.

Unto the lord mayor then, 165 He did a letter write, In which his own and Sarah's fault He did at large recite.

Whereby she seized was, And then to Ludlow sent, 170 Where she was judg'd, condemn'd, and hang'd, For murder incontinent.

There dyed this gallant quean, Such was her greatest gains; For murder in Polonia, 175 Was Barnwell hang'd in chains.

Lo! here's the end of youth That after harlots haunt, Who in the spoil of other men About the streets do flaunt. 180

120. i.e. for stopping and apprehending him at his father's. P.

THE DUKE OF ATHOL'S NURSE.

From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 23. Annexed is a less perfect copy from Kinloch's collection. A fragment of this piece is printed in Cromek's _Select Scottish Songs by R. Burns_, (ii. 196,) with some stanzas of _Willy's drowned in Yarrow_, (vol. ii. p. 181, of this collection.) Mr. Aytoun has made up a very good ballad from several copies; _Ballads of Scotland_, 2, 236.

As I gaed in yon greenwood side, I heard a fair maid singing; Her voice was sweet, she sang sae complete, That all the woods were ringing.

"O I'm the Duke o' Athole's nurse, 5 My post is well becoming; But I wou'd gie a' my half-year's fee, For ae sight o' my leman."

"Ye say, ye're the Duke o' Athole's nurse, Your post is well becoming; 10 Keep well, keep well your half-year's fee, Ye'se hae twa sights o' your leman."

He lean'd him ower his saddle bow, And cannilie kiss'd his dearie; "Ohon, and alake! anither has my heart, 15 And I darena mair come near thee!"

"Ohon, and alake! if anither hae your heart, These words hae fairly undone me; But let us set a time, tryst to meet again, Then in gude friends you will twine me!" 20

"Ye will do you down to yon tavern house, And drink till the day be dawing; And, as sure as I ance had a love for you, I'll come there and clear your lawing.

"Ye'll spare not the wine, altho' it be fine, 25 Nae Malago, tho' it be rarely; But ye'll aye drink the bonnie lassie's health That's to clear your lawing fairly."

Then he's done him down to yon tavern house, And drank till day was dawing; 30 And aye he drank the bonny lassie's health That was coming to clear his lawing.

And aye as he birled, and aye as he drank The gude beer and the brandy, He spar'd not the wine, altho' it was fine, 35 The sack nor the sugar candy.

"It's a wonder to me," the knight he did say, "My bonnie lassie's sae delaying; She promis'd, as sure as she loved me ance, She wou'd be here by the dawing." 40

He's done him to a shott window, A little before the dawing, And there he spied her nine brothers bauld, Were coming to betray him.

"Where shall I rin, where shall I gang, 45 Or where shall I gang hide me? She that was to meet me in friendship this day, Has sent nine men to slay me!"

He's gane to the landlady o' the house, Says, "O can you supply me? 50 For she that was to meet me in friendship this day, Has sent nine men to slay me!

She gae him a suit o' her ain female claise, And set him to the baking; The bird never sang mair sweet on the bush, 55 Nor the knight sung at the baking.

As they came in at the ha' door, Sae loudly as they rappit, And when they came upon the floor, Sae loudly as they chappit! 60

"O had ye a stranger here last night, Who drank till the day was dawing? Come, show us the chamber where he lyes in, We'll shortly clear his lawing."

"I had nae stranger here last night, 65 That drank till the day was dawing; But ane that took a pint, and paid it ere he went, And there's naething to clear o' his lawing."

A lad amang the rest, being o' a merry mood, To the young knight fell a-talking; 70 The wife took her foot, and gae him a kick, Says, "Be busy, ye jilt, at your baking."

They stabbed the house, baith but and ben, The curtains they spared nae riving, And for a' that they did search and ca', 75 For a kiss o' the knight they were striving.

THE DUKE OF ATHOL'S NOURICE.

Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 127.

As I cam in by Athol's yetts, I heard a fair maid singing; "I am the Duke o' Athol's nourice, And I wat it weel does set me; And I wad gie a' my half-year's fee, 5 For ae sicht o' my Johnie."

"Keep weel, keep weel, your half-year's fee, For ye'll soon get a sicht o' your Johnie; But anither woman has my heart, And I am sorry for to leave ye." 10

"Ye'll dow ye doun to yon change-house, And drink till the day be dawing; At ilka pint's end ye'll drink the lass' health, That's coming to pay the lawing."

He hied him doun to yon change-house, 15 And he drank till the day was dawing; And at ilka pint's end he drank the lass' health, That was coming to pay for his lawing.

Aye he ranted, and aye he sang, And drank till the day was dawing; 20 And aye he drank the bonnie lass' health, That was coming to pay the lawing.

He spared na the sack, though it was dear, The wine, nor the sugar-candy; * * * * * * *

He has dune him to the shot-window, 25 To see gin she war coming; There he saw the duke and a' his merry men, That oure the hill cam rinning.

He has dune him to the landlady, To see gin she wad protect him; 30 She buskit him up into woman's claise, And set him till a baking.

Sae loudlie as they rappit at the yett, Sae loudlie as they war calling; "Had ye a young man here yestreen, 35 That drank till the day was dawing?"

"He drank but ae pint, and he paid it or he went, And ye've na mair to do wi' the lawing." They searchit the house a' round and round, And they spared na the curtains to tear them; 40

While the landlady stood upo' the stair-head, Crying, "Maid, be busy at your baking;" They gaed as they cam, and left a' undone, And left the bonnie maid at her baking.

THE HIREMAN CHIEL.

From _Scarce Ancient Ballads_, p. 17. The same in Buchan, ii. 109, _The Baron turned Ploughman_.

There was a knight, a barone bright, A bauld barone was he, And he had only but one son, A comely youth to see.

He's brought him at schools nine, 5 So has he at schools ten, But the boy learn'd to haud the plow Among his father's men.

But it fell ance upon a day The bauld barone did say, 10 "My son you maun gae court a wife, And ane o high degree.

"Ye have lands, woods, rents, and bouirs, Castels and touirs three; Then go my son and seek some dame 15 To share that gift wi' thee."

"Yes, I have lands and woods, father, Castels and touirs three; But what if she like my lands and rents Far more than she loves me? 20

"But I will go and seek a wife That weel can please mine ee, And I sall fairly try her love Before she gang wi me."

He then took off the scarlet coat, 25 Bedeck'd wi shinin' gold, And has put on the hireman's coat, To keip him frae the cold.

He then laid past the studded sword, That he could bravely draw, 30 And he's gone skipping down the stair, Swift as the bird that flaw.

He took a stick into his hand, Which he could bravely wiel, And he's gane whistling o'er the lan', 35 Like a young hireman chiel.

And he gaed up yon high high hill,[L37] And low down i the glen, And there he saw a gay castell, Wi turrets nine or ten. 40

And he has gone on, and farther on, Till to the yett drew he, And there he saw a lady fair, That pleas'd the young man's ee.

He went streight to the greave's chamber, 45 And with humilitie, Said, "Have ye any kind of work For a hireman chiel like me?"

"What is the work that ye intend, Or how can we agree? 50 Can ye plow, reap, and sow the corn, And a' for meat and fee?"

"Yes, I can plow, and reap, and mow, And sow the corn too; I can weel manage horse and cow, 55 And a' for meat and fee."

"If ye can haud the plow right weel, And sow the corn too, By faith and troth, my hireman chiel, We shall not part for fee." 60

He['s] put his hand in his pocket, And taen out shillings nine; Says, "Take ye that, my hireman chiel, And turn in here and dine."

He acted all he took in hand, 65 His master lov'd him weel, And the young lady of the land Fell in love wi the hireman chiel.

How oft she tried to drown the flame, And oft wept bitterlie; 70 But still she lov'd the hireman chiel, So well's he pleas'd her ee.

She has written a broad letter, And seal'd it wi' her hand, And dropt it at the stable door, 75 Where the young man did stand.

"I am in love, my hireman chiel, I'm deip in love wi thee; And if ye think me worth your love, I' the garden green meet me." 80

When he had read the letter o'er, A loud loud laugh gae he; Said, "If I manage my business well, I'm sure to get my fee."

At night they met behind a tree, 85 Low in the garden green, To tell their tale among the flowers, And view the e'ening scene.

Next morning by the rising sun, She, with her maries fair, 90 Walk'd to the fields to see the plow, And meet the hireman there.

"Good morn, good morn, my lady gay, I wonder much at you, To rise so early in the morn, 95 While fields are wet wi dew, To hear the linnets on the thorn, And see the plow-boy plow."

"But I wonder much at you, young man, I wonder much at you, 100 That ye no other station have Than hold my father's plow."

"I love as weel to rise each morn As ye can your maries fair; I love as weel to hold the plow 105 As I were your father's heir.

"If ye love me, as ye protest, And I trust weel ye do, The morn's night at eight o'clock, In gude green wood meet me." 110

"Yes, I love you, my hireman chiel, And that most tenderlie, But when my virgin honor's gone, I soon will slighted be."

"Take ye no dread, my lady gay, 115 Lat a your folly be; If ye com a maiden to green wood, You'll return the same for me."

The lady she went home again Wi a mary on every hand; 120 She was so very sick in love, She could not sit nor stand.

It was a dark and cloudy night, No stars beam'd o'er the lea, When the lady and the hireman met 125 Beneath a spreading tree.

He took the lady in his arms, Embraced her tenderlie, And thrice he kiss'd her rosy lips Under the green wood tree. 130

"Hold off your hands, young man, I pray; I wonder much at thee; The man that holds my father's plow, To lay his hands on me."

"No harm I mean, my winsome dame, 135 No impudence at a'; I never laid a hand on you Till your libertie I saw."

"It is a dark and dismal night, 140 The dew is falling down; I will go home, least I should spoil My cap and satin gown."

"If you are wearied so soon, Why did ye tryst me here?" 145 "I would not weary with you, my dear, Tho this night were a year."

When morning beams began to peep Among the branches green, The lovers rose, and part to meet, 150 And tell their tale again.

"Ye will go home unto the plow, Where often ye hae been; I'll tak my mantle folded up, And walk i the garden green. 155

"The barone and my mother dear Will wonder what I mean; They'll think I've been disturbed sair, When I am up so soon."

But this pass'd on, and farther on, 160 For two months and a day, Till word came to the bauld barone, And an angry man was he.

The barone swore a solemn oath, An angry man was he, 165 "The morn, before I eat or drink, High hanged shall he be."

"Farewell, my lovely maiden fair, A long adieu to thee; Your father's sworn a solemn swear 170 That hanged I shall be."

"O woe's me," the lady said, "Yet do not troubled be; If e'er they touch the hair on thy head, They'll get no good of me." 175

He turn'd him right and round about, And a loud loud laugh gae he; "That man stood never in the court That dare this day hang me."

The lady spake from her bouir door, 180 An angry woman was she; "What insolence in you to tryst Her to the green wood tree."

"If she had not given her consent, She had not gone wi me; 185 If she came a maiden to green wood, She return'd again for me."

He turn'd him right and round about, And a loud loud laugh gae he; "Ye may wed your daughter whan ye will, 190 She's none the worse for me."

He has gone whistling o'er the knowe, Swift as the bird that flaw; The lady stood in her bouir door, And lout the salt tears fa. 195

But this pass'd on, and further on, A twelve month and a day, Till there came a knight and a barone bright To woo this lady gay.

He soon gain'd the baronne's will, 200 Likewise the mother gay; He woo'd and won the lady's love, But by a slow degree.

"O weel befa' you, daughter dear, And happy may ye be, 205 To lay your love on the grand knight, And let the hireman be."

"O haud your tongue, my father dear, And speak not so to me; Far more I love the hireman chiel 210 Than a' the knights I see.

The morn was come, and bells were rung, And all to church repair; But like the rose among the throng Was the lady and her maries fair. 215

But as they walked o'er the field, Among the flowers fair, Beneath a tree stood on the plain, The hireman chiel was there.

"I wish you joy, my gay madam, 220 And aye well may ye be; There is a ring, a pledge of love, That ance I got from thee."

"O wae befa' ye, you hireman chiel, Some ill death may ye die; 225 Ye might hae tauld to me your name, Your hame, or what countrie."

"If ye luve me, my lady gay, As ye protest ye do, Then turn your love from this gay knight, 230 And reach your hand to me."

Then out spake the gay baronne, And an angry man was he; "If I had known she was belov'd, She had never been lov'd by me." 235

When she was set on high horse-back, And riding thro' the glen, They saw her father posting quick, With fifty armed men.

"Do for yourself, my hireman lad, 240 And for your safety flee; My father he will take me back, But married I'll never be."

When they were up yon rising hill, There low down i' the glen, 245 He saw his father's gilded coach, Wi' five hundred gentlemen.

"Come back, turn back, my hireman chiel, Turn back and speak wi' me; Ye've serv'd me lang for the lady's sake, 250 Come back, and get your fee."

"Your blessing give us instantly, Is all we crave o' thee; These seven years I've serv'd for her sake, But now I'm paid my fee." 255

37. As.

ARMSTRONG AND MUSGRAVE.

From _A Collection of Old Ballads_, i. 175.

The story of this ballad seems to be the same as that of _Lord Livingston_, in the third volume of this collection (p. 343). The whole title is as follows:

A pleasant ballad shewing how two valiant knights, Sir John Armstrong and Sir Michael Musgrave, fell in love with the beautiful daughter of the Lady Dacres in the North; and of the great strife that happen'd between them for her, and how they wrought the death of one hundred men.

As it fell out one Whitsunday, The blith time of the year, When every tree was clad with green, And pretty birds sing clear, The Lady Dacres took her way 5 Unto the church that pleasant day, With her fair daughter fresh and gay, A bright and bonny lass.

Sir Michael Musgrave, in like sort, To church repaired then, 10 And so did Sir John Armstrong too, With all his merry men. Two greater friends there could not be, Nor braver knights for chivalry, Both batchelors of high degree, 15 Fit for a bonny lass.

They sat them down upon one seat, Like loving brethren dear, With hearts and minds devoutly bent God's service for to hear; 20 But rising from their prayers tho, Their eyes a ranging strait did go, Which wrought their utter overthrow, All for one bonny lass.

Quoth Musgrave unto Armstrong then, 25 "Yon sits the sweetest dame, That ever for her fair beauty Within this country came." "In sooth," quoth Armstrong presently, "Your judgment I must verify, 30 There never came unto my eye A braver bonny lass."

"I swear," said Musgrave, "by this sword, Which did my knighthood win, To steal away so sweet a dame, 35 Could be no ghostly sin." "That deed," quoth Armstrong, "would be ill, Except you had her right good will, That your desire she would fulfil, And be thy bonny lass." 40

By this the service quite was done, And home the people past; They wish'd a blister on his tongue That made thereof such haste. At the church door the knights did meet, 45 The Lady Dacres for to greet, But most of all her daughter sweet, That beauteous bonny lass.

Said Armstrong to the lady fair, "We both have made a vow 50 At dinner for to be your guests, If you will it allow." With that bespoke the lady free, "Sir knights, right welcome shall you be;" "The happier men therefore are we, 55 For love of this bonny lass."

Thus were the knights both prick'd in love, Both in one moment thrall'd, And both with one fair lady gay, Fair Isabella call'd. 60 With humble thanks they went away, Like wounded harts chas'd all the day, One would not to the other say, They lov'd this bonny lass.

Fair Isabel, on the other side, 65 As far in love was found; So long brave Armstrong she had ey'd, Till love her heart did wound; "Brave Armstrong is my joy," quoth she, "Would Christ he were alone with me, 70 To talk an hour, two, or three, With his fair bonny lass."

But as these knights together rode, And homeward did repair, Their talk and eke their countenance shew'd 75 Their hearts were clogg'd with care. "Fair Isabel," the one did say, "Thou hast subdu'd my heart this day;" "But she's my joy," did Musgrave say, "My bright and bonny lass." 80

With that these friends incontinent Became most deadly foes; For love of beauteous Isabel, Great strife betwixt them rose: Quoth Armstrong, "She shall be my wife, 85 Although for her I lose my life;" And thus began a deadly strife, And for one bonny lass.

Thus two years long this grudge did grow These gallant knights between, 90 While they a-wooing both did go, Unto this beauteous queen; And she who did their furies prove, To neither would bewray her love, The deadly quarrel to remove 95 About this bonny lass.

But neither, for her fair intreats, Nor yet her sharp dispute, Would they appease their raging ire, Nor yet give o'er their suit. 100 The gentlemen of the North Country At last did make this good decree, All for a perfect unity About this bonny lass.

The love-sick knights should be set 105 Within one hall so wide, Each of them in a gallant sort Even at a several tide; And 'twixt them both for certainty Fair Isabel should placed be, 110 Of them to take her choice full free, Most like a bonny lass.

And as she like an angel bright Betwixt them mildly stood, She turn'd unto each several knight 115 With pale and changed blood; "Now am I at liberty To make and take my choice?" quoth she: "Yea," quoth the knights, "we do agree; Then chuse, thou bonny lass." 120

"O Musgrave, thou art all too hot To be a lady's love," Quoth she, "and Armstrong seems a sot, Where love binds him to prove. Of courage great is Musgrave still, 125 And sith to chuse I have my will, Sweet Armstrong shall my joys fulfil, And I his bonny lass."

The nobles and the gentles both That were in present place, 130 Rejoiced at this sweet record; But Musgrave, in disgrace, Out of the hall did take his way, And Armstrong marryed was next day With Isabel his lady gay, 135 A bright and bonny lass.

But Musgrave on the wedding-day, Like to a Scotchman dight, In secret sort allured out The bridegroom for the fight; 140 And he, that will not outbraved be, Unto his challenge did agree, Where he was slain most suddenly For his fair bonny lass.

The news whereof was quickly brought 145 Unto the lovely bride; And many of young Armstrong's kin Did after Musgrave ride. They hew'd him when they had him got, As small as flesh into the pot; 150 Lo! thus befel a heavy lot About this bonny lass.

The lady young, which did lament This cruel cursed strife, For very grief dyed that day, 155 A maiden and a wife. An hundred men that hapless day Did lose their lives in that same fray, And 'twixt those names, as many say, Is deadly strife still biding. 160

FAIR MARGARET OF CRAIGNARGAT.

"Craignargat is a promontory in the Bay of Luce. Though almost surrounded by the Barony of Mochrum, it was long possessed by a branch of the family of Macdowall, which was probably our heroine's surname.--On the head of Fair Margaret's lovers, it may be remarked, that the Agnews of Lochnaw are a very ancient family, and hereditary sheriffs of Wigton. The Gordon mentioned was probably Gordon of Craighlaw, whose castle was situated about five miles from Craignargat, in the parish of Kirkcowan, considered so remote before the formation of military roads, that the local proverb says,--'Out of the world, and into Kirkcowan.' The Hays of Park dwell on the coast, about six miles from Craignargat; but it is singular that the lady is not complimented with a Dunbar as her lover, the Place of Mochrum, as the old town is called, being only two miles from her reputed residence." Sharpe's _Ballad Book_, p. 71.

Fair Marg'ret of Craignargat Was the flow'r of all her kin, And she's fallen in love with a false young man, Her ruin to begin.

The more she lov'd, the more it prov'd 5 Her fatal destiny, And he that sought her overthrow Shar'd of her misery.

Before that lady she was born, Her mother, as we find, 10 She dreamt she had a daughter fair, That was both dumb and blind.

But as she sat in her bow'r door, A-viewing of her charms, There came a raven from the south, 15 And pluck'd her from her arms.

Three times on end she dreamt this dream, Which troubled sore her mind, That from that very night and hour She could no comfort find. 20

Now she has sent for a wise woman, Liv'd nigh unto the port, Who being call'd, instantly came, That lady to comfort.

To her she told her dreary dream, 25 With salt tears in her eye, Hoping that she would read the same, Her mind to satisfy.

"Set not your heart on children young, Whate'er their fortune be, 30 And if I tell what shall befal, Lay not the blame on me.

"The raven which ye dreamed of, He is a false young man, With subtile heart and flatt'ring tongue, 35 Your daughter to trepan.

"Both night and day, 'tis you I pray For to be on your guard, For many are the subtile wyles By which youth are ensnar'd." 40

When she had read the dreary dream, It vex'd her more and more, For Craignargat, of birth and state, Liv'd nigh unto the shore.

But as in age her daughter wax'd, 45 Her beauty did excel All the ladies far and near That in that land did dwell.

The Gordon, Hay, and brave Agnew, Three knights of high degree, 50 Unto the dame a-courting came, All for her fair beauty.

Which of these men, they ask'd her then, That should her husband be; But scornfully she did reply, 55 "I'll wed none of the three."

"Since it is so, where shall we go A match for thee to find, That art so fair and beautiful, That none can suit thy mind?" 60

With scorn and pride she answer made, "You'll ne'er choice one for me, Nor will I wed against my mind, For all their high degree."

The brave Agnew, whose heart was true, 65 A solemn vow did make, Never to love a woman more All for that lady's sake.

To counsel this lady was deaf, To judgement she was blind, 70 Which griev'd her tender parents dear, And troubled sore their mind.

From the Isle of Man a courter came, And a false young man was he, With subtile heart and flatt'ring tongue, 75 To court this fair lady.

This young man was a bold outlaw, A robber and a thief, But soon he gain'd this lady's heart, Which caused all their grief. 80

"O will you wed," her mother said, "A man you do not know, For to break your parents' heart, With shame but and with woe?"

"Yes, I will go with him," she said, 85 "Either by land or sea; For he's the man I've pitchéd on My husband for to be."

"O let her go," her father said, "For she shall have her will; 90 My curse and mallison she's got, For to pursue her still."

"Your curse, father, I don't regard, Your blessing I'll ne'er crave; To the man I love I'll constant prove, 95 And never him deceive."

On board with him fair Margaret's gone, In hopes his bride to be; But mark ye well, and I shall tell Of their sad destiny. 100

They had not sail'd a league but five, Till the storm began to rise; The swelling seas ran mountains high, And dismal were the skies.

In deep despair that lady fair 105 For help aloud she cries, While crystal tears like fountains ran Down from her lovely eyes.

"O I have got my father's curse My pride for to subdue! 110 With sorrows great my heart will break, Alas what shall I do!

"O were I at my father's house, His blessing to receive, Then on my bended knees I'd fall, 115 His pardon for to crave!

"To aid my grief, there's no relief, To speak it is in vain; Likewise my loving parents dear I ne'er shall see again." 120

The winds and waves did both conspire Their lives for to devour; That gallant ship that night was lost, And never was seen more.

When tidings to Craignargat came, 125 Of their sad overthrow, It griev'd her tender parent's heart; Afresh began their woe.

Of the dreary dream that she had seen, And often thought upon,-- 130 "O fatal news," her mother cries, "My darling, she is gone!

"O fair Marg'ret, I little thought The seas should be thy grave, When first thou left thy father's house, 135 Without thy parent's leave."

May this tragedy a warning be To children while they live, That they may love their parents dear, Their blessing to receive. 140

RICHIE STORIE.

"John, third Earl of Wigton, had six sons, and three daughters. The second, Lady Lillias Fleming, was so indiscreet as to marry a footman, by whom she had issue. She and her husband assigned her provision to Lieutenant-Colonel John Fleming, who discharged her renunciation, dated in October, 1673." Sharpe's _Ballad Book_, p. 95.

The Earl o' Wigton had three daughters, O braw wallie, but they were bonnie! The youngest o' them, and the bonniest too, Has fallen in love wi' Richie Storie.

"Here's a letter for ye, madame, 5 Here's a letter for ye, madame; The Erle o' Home wad fain presume To be a suitor to ye, madame."

"I'll hae nane o' your letters, Richie; I'll hae nane o' your letters, Richie; 10 For I've made a vow, and I'll keep it true, That I'll have nane but you, Richie."

"O do not say so, madame; O do not say so, madame; For I have neither land nor rent, 15 For to maintain you o', madame.

"Ribands ye maun wear, madame, Ribands ye maun wear, madame; With the bands about your neck O' the goud that shines sae clear, madame." 20

"I'll lie ayont a dyke, Richie, I'll lie ayont a dyke, Richie; And I'll be aye at your command And bidding, whan ye like, Richie."

O he's gane on the braid braid road, 25 And she's gane through the broom sae bonnie, Her silken robes down to her heels, And she's awa' wi' Richie Storie.

This lady gaed up the Parliament stair, Wi' pendles in her lugs sae bonnie; 30 Mony a lord lifted his hat, But little did they ken she was Richie's lady.

Up then spak the Erle o' Home's lady; "Was na ye richt sorrie, Annie, To leave the lands o' bonnie Cumbernauld, 35 And follow Richie Storie, Annie?"

"O what need I be sorrie, madame, O what need I be sorrie, madame? For I've got them that I like best, And was ordained for me, madame." 40

"Cumbernauld is mine, Annie, Cumbernauld is mine, Annie; And a' that's mine, it shall be thine, As we sit at the wine, Annie."

THE FARMER'S OLD WIFE.

_The Carl of Kellyburn Braes_, composed by Burns for Johnson's _Museum_, (p. 392,) was founded, he says, "on the old traditionary verses." These we have met with in no other form but the following, which is taken from _Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry of England_, edited by Robert Bell, p. 204. What is styled the original of _The Carle of Kellyburn Braes_, in Cromek's _Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway Song_, p. 83, is, like many of the pieces in that volume, for the most part a fabrication. The place of the burden is supplied in Sussex, says Mr. Bell, by a whistling chorus.

Of the same tenor is the ballad of _The Devil and the Scold_, Collier's _Roxburghe Ballads_, p. 35.

We subjoin the first stanza of Burns's ballad for the sake of the burden, which is said to be old.

There lived a carl on Kellyburn braes, _Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme_, And he had a wife was the plague o' his days, _And the thyme it is wither'd, and the rue is in prime_.

* * * * *

There was an old farmer in Sussex did dwell, And he had a bad wife, as many knew well.

Then Satan came to the old man at the plough,-- "One of your family I must have now.

"It is not your eldest son that I crave, 5 But it is your old wife, and she I will have."

"O welcome, good Satan, with all my heart! I hope you and she will never more part."

Now Satan has got the old wife on his back, And he lugged her along like a pedlar's pack. 10

He trudged away till they came to his hall-gate: Says he, "Here, take in an old Sussex chap's mate.

O then she did kick the young imps about,-- Says one to the other, "Let's try turn her out."

She spied thirteen imps all dancing in chains, 15 She up with her pattens, and beat out their brains.

She knocked the old Satan against the wall,-- "Let's try turn her out, or she'll murder us all."

Now he's bundled her up on his back amain, And to her old husband he took her again. 20

"I have been a tormentor the whole of my life, But I ne'er was tormented till I met with your wife."

THE DUEL OF WHARTON AND STUART.

_Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 77.

The unhappy event upon which the following ballad is founded took place under the reign of James the VI.

"The sufferers in this melancholy affair were both men of high birth, the heirs-apparent of two noble families, and youths of the most promising expectation. Sir James Stuart was a knight of the Bath, and eldest son of Walter, first Lord Blantyre, by Nicholas, daughter of Sir James Somerville of Cambusnethan. Sir George Wharton was also a knight of the Bath, and eldest son of Philip, Lord Wharton, by Frances, daughter of Henry Clifford, Earl of Cumberland. He married Anne, daughter of the Earl of Rutland, but left no issue." SCOTT.

This ballad was printed in the first edition of Ritson's _Ancient Songs_, p. 199, from a black-letter copy in Major Pearson's collection, (afterwards part of the Roxburghe.) Scott's version appears to have been obtained from James Hogg. "Two verses have been added," says Sir Walter, "and one considerably improved, from Mr. Ritson's edition. These three stanzas are the fifth and ninth of Part First, and the penult verse of Part Second. I am thus particular, that the reader may be able, if he pleases, to compare the traditional ballad with the original edition. It furnishes striking evidence, that 'without characters, fame lives long.' The difference chiefly to be remarked betwixt the copies, lies in the dialect, and in some modifications applicable to Scotland; as, using the words "our Scottish Knight." The black-letter ballad, in like manner, terms Wharton "our English Knight."

In this connection we may mention another ballad founded on a duel--_Sir Niel and Mac Van_, in Buchan's larger collection, ii. 16. A stall copy is called _Sir Neil and Glengyle_.

PART FIRST.

It grieveth me to tell you o' Near London late what did befall, 'Twixt two young gallant gentlemen; It grieveth me, and ever shall.

One of them was Sir George Wharton, 5 My good Lord Wharton's son and heir; The other, James Stuart, a Scottish knight, One that a valiant heart did bear.

When first to court these nobles came, One night, a-gaming, fell to words,[L10] 10 And in their fury grew so hot, That they did both try their keen swords.

No manner of treating, nor advice, Could hold from striking in that place; For, in the height and heat of blood, 15 James struck George Wharton on the face.

"What doth this mean," George Wharton said, "To strike in such unmanly sort? But, that I take it at thy hands, The tongue of man shall ne'er report!" 20

"But do thy worst, then," said Sir James, "Now do thy worst, appoint a day! There's not a lord in England breathes Shall gar me give an inch of way."

"Ye brag right weel," George Wharton said; 25 "Let our brave lords at large alane, And speak of me, that am thy foe, For you shall find enough o' ane."

"I'll interchange my glove wi' thine; I'll show it on the bed of death; 30 I mean the place where we shall fight; There ane or both maun lose life and breath!"

"We'll meet near Waltham," said Sir James; "To-morrow, that shall be the day. We'll either take a single man, 35 And try who bears the bell away."

Then down together hands they shook, Without any envious sign; Then went to Ludgate, where they lay, And each man drank his pint of wine. 40

No kind of envy could be seen, No kind of malice they did betray; But a' was clear and calm as death, Whatever in their bosoms lay:

Till parting time; and then, indeed, 45 They show'd some rancour in their heart; "Next time we meet," says George Wharton, "Not half sae soundly we shall part!"

So they have parted, firmly bent Their valiant minds equal to try: 50 The second part shall clearly show, Both how they meet, and how they die.

PART SECOND.

George Wharton was the first ae man Came to the appointed place that day, Where he espyed our Scots lord coming, 55 As fast as he could post away.

They met, shook hands; their cheeks were pale; Then to George Wharton James did say, "I dinna like your doublet, George, It stands sae weel on you this day. 60

"Say, have you got no armour on? Have you no under robe of steel? I never saw an Englishman Become his doublet half sae weel."

"Fy no! fy no!" George Wharton said, 65 "For that's the thing that mauna be, That I should come wi' armour on, And you a naked man truly."

"Our men shall search our doublets, George, And see if one of us do lie; 70 Then will we prove, wi' weapons sharp, Ourselves true gallants for to be."

Then they threw off their doublets both, And stood up in their sarks of lawn; "Now, take my counsel," said Sir James, 75 "Wharton, to thee I'll make it knawn:

"So as we stand, so will we fight, Thus naked in our sarks," said he; "Fy no! fy no!" George Wharton says, "That is the thing that must not be. 80

"We're neither drinkers, quarrellers, Nor men that cares na for oursell, Nor minds na what we're gaun about, Or if we're gaun to heav'n or hell.

"Let us to God bequeath our souls, 85 Our bodies to the dust and clay:" With that he drew his deadly sword, The first was drawn on field that day.

Se'en bouts and turns these heroes had, Or e'er a drop o' blood was drawn; 90 Our Scotch lord, wond'ring, quickly cry'd, "Stout Wharton, thou still hauds thy awn!"

The first stroke that George Wharton gae, He struck him thro' the shoulder-bane; The neist was thro' the thick o' the thigh; 95 He thought our Scotch lord had been slain.

"O ever alack!" George Wharton cry'd, "Art thou a living man, tell me? If there's a surgeon living can, He's cure thy wounds right speedily." 100

"No more of that," James Stuart said; "Speak not of curing wounds to me! For one of us must yield our breath, Ere off the field one foot we flee."

They looked oure their shoulders both, 105 To see what company was there: They both had grievous marks of death, But frae the other nane wad steer.

George Wharton was the first that fell, Our Scotch lord fell immediately; 110 They both did cry to Him above To save their souls, for they boud die.

10. Sir George Wharton was quarrelsome at cards; a temper which he exhibited so disagreeably when playing with the Earl of Pembroke, that the Earl told him, "Sir George, I have loved you long; but by your manner in playing, you lay it upon me either to leave to love you, or to leave to play with you; wherefore choosing to love you still, I will never play with you any more."--LODGE'S _Illustrations_, vol. iii. p. 350. SCOTT.

SADDLE TO RAGS.

From _Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry of England_, Percy Society, vol. xvii. p. 126. The editor took this piece down from the recitation of a Yorkshire yeoman. Other ballads are popular with nearly the same plot, one of them called _The Crafty Ploughboy, or the Highwayman outwitted_. Another of a similar description is _Jock the Leg and the Merry Merchant_, (Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 165,) formed on the model of some Robin Hood ballad.

This story I'm going to sing, I hope it will give you content, Concerning a silly old man That was going to pay his rent.

As he was a-riding along, 5 Along all on the highway, A gentleman-thief overtook him, And thus unto him did say.

"O well overtaken, old man, O well overtaken," said he; 10 "Thank you kindly, sir," says the old man, "If you be for my companie."

"How far are you going this way?" It made the old man to smile; "To tell you the truth, kind sir, 15 I'm just a-going twa mile.

"I am but a silly old man, Who farms a piece of ground; My half-year rent, kind sir, Just comes to forty pound. 20

"But my landlord's not been at hame,-- I've not seen him twelve month or more; It makes my rent to be large, I've just to pay him fourscore."

"You should not have told any body, 25 For thieves there are ganging many; If they were to light upon you, They would rob you of every penny."

"O never mind," says the old man, "Thieves I fear on no side; 30 My money is safe in my bags, In the saddle on which I ride."

As they were a-riding along, And riding a-down a ghyll, The thief pulled out a pistòl, 35 And bade the old man stand still.

The old man was crafty and false, As in this world are many; He flung his old saddle o'er t' hedge, And said, "Fetch it, if thou'lt have any." 40

This thief got off his horse, With courage stout and bold, To search this old man's bags, And gave him his horse to hold.

The old man put foot in stirrup, 45 And he got on astride, He set the thief's horse in a gallop,-- You need not bid th' old man ride!

"O stay! O stay!" says the thief, "And thou half my share shalt have:" 50 "Nay, marry, not I," quoth the old man, "For once I've bitten a knave!"

This thief he was not content; He thought these must be bags; So he up with his rusty sword, 55 And chopped the old saddle to rags.

The old man gallop'd and rode Until he was almost spent, Till he came to his landlord's house, And paid him his whole year's rent. 60

He opened this rogue's portmantle; It was glorious for to behold; There was five hundred pound in money, And other five hundred in gold.

His landlord it made him to stare, 65 When he did the sight behold; "Where did thou get the white money, And where get the yellow gold?"

"I met a fond fool by the way, I swapped horses, and gave him no boot; 70 But never mind," says the old man, "I got a fond fool by the foot."

"But now you're grown cramped and old, Nor fit for to travel about;" "O never mind," says the old man, 75 "I can give these old bones a root!"

As he was a-riding hame, And a-down a narrow lane, He spied his mare tied to a tree, And said, "Tib, thou'lt now gae hame." 80

And when that he got hame, And told his old wife what he'd done, She rose and she donned her clothes, And about the house did run.

She sung, and she danced, and sung, 85 And she sung with a merry devotion, "If ever our daughter gets wed, It will help to enlarge her portion!"

THE FAUSE KNIGHT UPON THE ROAD.

Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. lxxiv.

"O whare are ye gaun?" Quo' the fause knicht upon the road; "I'm gaun to the scule," Quo' the wee boy, and still he stude.

"What is that upon your back?" 5 Quo' the fause knicht upon the road; "Atweel it is my bukes," Quo' the wee boy, and still he stude.

"What's that ye've got on your arm?" Quo' the fause knicht, &c. 10 "Atweel it is my peit," Quo' the wee boy, &c.

"Wha's aucht they sheep?" Quo' the fause knicht, &c. "They are mine and my mither's," 15 Quo' the wee boy, &c.

"How monie o' them are mine?" Quo' the fause knicht, &c. "A' they that hae blue tails," Quo' the wee boy, &c. 20

"I wiss ye were on yon tree," Quo' the fause knicht, &c. "And a gude ladder under me," Quo' the wee boy, &c.

"And the ladder for to break," 25 Quo' the fause knicht, &c. "And you for to fa' doun," Quo' the wee boy, &c.

"I wiss ye were in yon sie," Quo' the fause knicht, &c. 30 "And a gude bottom under me," Quo' the wee boy, &c.

"And the bottom for to break," Quo' the fause knicht upon the road; "And ye to be drowned," 35 Quo' the wee boy, and still he stude.

GIFTS FROM OVER SEA. Appendix to p. 11.

Wright's _Songs and Carols, printed from a MS. in the Sloane Collection_, No. 8.

I have a zong suster fer bezondyn the se, Many be the drowryis that [s]che sente me. [S]che sente me the cherye withoutyn ony ston, And so [s]che dede [the] dowe withoutyn ony bon: Sche sente me the brere withoutyn ony rynde, Sche bad me love my lemman withoute longgyng.

How xuld ony cherye be withoute ston? And how xuld ony dowe ben withoute bon? How xuld any brere ben withoute rynde? How xuld I love myn lemman without longyng?

Quan the cherye was a flour, than hadde it non ston: Quan the dowe was an ey, than hadde it non bon: Quan the brere was on-bred, than hadde it non rynd: Quan the mayden hazt that [s]che louth, [s]che is without longyng.

THE COURTEOUS KNIGHT.

Appendix to p. 11, p. 83.

From _Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 91.

There was a knight, in a summer's night, Appear'd in a lady's hall, As she was walking up and down, Looking o'er her castle wall.

"God make you safe and free, fair maid, 5 God make you safe and free!" "O sae fa' you, ye courteous knight; What are your wills wi' me?

"My wills wi' you are not sma', lady, My wills wi' you nae sma'; 10 And since there's nane your bower within, Ye'se ha'e my secrets a'.

"For here am I a courtier, A courtier come to thee; And if ye winna grant your love, 15 All for your sake I'll dee."

"If that ye dee for me, sir knight, Few for you will make meen; For mony gude lord's done the same, Their graves are growing green." 20

"O winna ye pity me, fair maid, O winna ye pity me? O winna ye pity a courteous knight, Whose love is laid on thee?"

"Ye say ye are a courteous knight, 25 But I think ye are nane; I think ye're but a millar bred, By the color o' your claithing.

"You seem to be some false young man, You wear your hat sae wide; 30 You seem to be some false young man, You wear your boots sae side."

"Indeed I am a courteous knight, And of great pedigree; Nae knight did mair for a lady bright 35 Than I will do for thee.

"O I'll put smiths in your smithy, To shoe for you a steed; And I'll put tailors in your bower, To make you for a weed. 40

"I will put cooks in your kitchen, And butlers in your ha'; And on the tap o' your father's castle, I'll big gude corn and saw."

"If ye be a courteous knight, 45 As I trust not ye be, Ye'll answer some o' the sma' questions That I will ask at thee.

"What is the fairest flower, tell me, That grows in muir or dale?[L50] 50 Likewise, which is the sweetest bird Sings next the nightingale? Or what's the finest thing," she says, "That king or queen can wale?[L54]

"The primrose is the fairest flower 55 That grows in muir or dale;[L56] The mavis is the sweetest bird Next to the nightingale; And yellow gowd's the finest thing That king or queen can wale. 60

"Ye ha'e asked many questions, lady, I've you as many told;" "But, how many pennies round Make a hundred pounds in gold?

"How many of the small fishes, 65 Do swim the salt seas round? Or, what's the seemliest sight you'll see Into a May morning?"

"Berry-brown ale, and a birken speal, And wine in a horn green; 70 A milk-white lace in a fair maid's dress, Looks gay in a May morning."

"Mony's the questions I've ask'd at thee, And ye've answer'd them a'; Ye are mine, and I am thine, 75 Amo' the sheets sae sma'."

"You may be my match, kind sir, You may be my match and more; There ne'er was ane came sic a length, Wi' my father's heir before. 80

"My father's lord o' nine castles, My mother she's lady ower three, And there is nane to heir them all, No never a ane but me; Unless it be Willie, my ae brother, 85 But he's far ayont the sea."

"If your father's laird o' nine castles, Your mother lady ower three; I am Willie your ae brother, Was far beyond the sea." 90

"If ye be Willie, my ae brother, As I doubt sair ye be; But if it's true ye tell me now, This night I'll gang wi' thee."

"Ye've ower ill washen feet, Janet, 95 And ower ill washen hands, And ower coarse robes on your body, Alang wi' me to gang.

"The worms they are my bed-fellows, And the cauld clay my sheet; 100 And the higher that the wind does blaw, The sounder I do sleep.

"My body's buried in Dumfermline, And far beyond the sea; But day nor night, nae rest cou'd get, 105 All for the pride o' thee.

"Leave aff your pride, jelly Janet," he says, "Use it not ony mair; Or when ye come where I hae been, You will repent it sair. 110

"Cast aff, cast aff, sister," he says, "The gowd lace fray your crown; For if ye gang where I ha'e been, Ye'll wear it laigher down.

"When ye're in the gude church set, 115 The gowd pins in your hair, Ye take mair delight in your feckless dress Than ye do in your morning prayer.

"And when ye walk in the church-yard, And in your dress are seen, 120 There is nae lady that sees your face But wishes your grave were green.

"You're straight and tall, handsome withall, But your pride owergoes your wit; But if ye do not your ways refrain, 125 In Pirie's chair ye'll sit.

"In Pirie's chair you'll sit, I say, The lowest seat o' hell; If ye do not amend your ways, It's there that ye must dwell." 130

Wi' that he vanish'd frae her sight, Wi' the twinkling o' an eye; Naething mair the lady saw, But the gloomy clouds and sky.

50, 56, mire.

54, wile.

THE NORTHERN LORD AND CRUEL JEW.

Appendix to p. 46.

This ballad, which has some features of resemblance to _Cymbeline_, as well as to the _Merchant of Venice_, is taken from Buchan's _Gleanings of Scotch, English, and Irish scarce old Ballads_, p. 105. Another copy is in Mr. Halliwell's _New Boke about Shakspeare_, p. 19.

A noble lord of high renown, Two daughters had, the eldest brown, The youngest beautiful and fair: By chance a noble knight came there.

Her father said, "Kind sir, I have 5 Two daughters: which do you crave?" "One that is beautiful," he cried; The noble knight he then replied:

"She's young, she's beautiful and gay, And is not to be given away, 10 But as jewels are bought and sold; She shall bring me her weight in gold.

"The price I think ye need not grudge, Since I will freely give as much With her one sister, if I can 15 Find out some other nobleman."

With that bespoke the noble knight, "I'd sooner have the beauty bright, At that vast rate, renownèd lord, Than the other with a vast reward." 20

So then the bargain it was made; But ere the money could be paid, He had it of a wealthy Jew; The sum so large, the writings drew

That if he failed, or miss'd the day, 25 So many ounces he should pay Of his own flesh, instead of gold; All was agreed, the sum was told.

So he returned immediately Unto the lord, where he did buy 30 His daughter fine, I do declare, And paid him down the money there.

He bought her there, it is well known Unto mankind; she was his own; By her a son he did enjoy, 35 A sweet and comely handsome boy.

At length the time of pay drew near, When the knight did begin to fear; He dreaded much the cruel Jew, Because the money it was due. 40

His lady asked him why he grieved: He said, "My jewel, I received Such sum of money of a Jew, And now the money it is due.

"And now the day of payment's come, 45 I'm sure I cannot pay the sum; He'll have my flesh, weight for weight, Which makes my grief and sorrow great."

"Hush, never fear him," she replied; "We'll cross the raging ocean wide, 50 And so secure you from the fate:" To her request he yielded straight.

Then having pass'd the raging seas, They travelled on, till by degrees Unto the German court they came, 55 The knight, his son, and comely dame.

Unto the Emperor he told His story of the sum of gold That he had borrowed of a Jew, And that for fear of death he flew. 60

The Emperor he did erect A court for them, and show'd respect Unto his guests, because they came From Britain, that blest land of fame.

As here he lived in delight, 65 A Dutch lord told our English knight, That he a ton of gold would lay, He could enjoy his lady gay.

From her, the lord he was to bring A rich and costly diamond ring, 70 That was to prove and testify How he did with his lady lie.

He tries, but never could obtain Her favour, but with high disdain She did defy his base intent; 75 So to her chambermaid he went,

And told her if she would but steal Her lady's ring, and to conceal The same, and bring it to him straight, She should enjoy a fine estate. 80

In hopes of such a fine reward, The ring she stole; then the Dutch lord Did take it to the noble knight, Who almost swooned at the sight.

Home he goes to the lady straight; 85 Meeting her at the palace gate, He flung her headlong into the mote, And left her there to sink or float.

Soon after that, in clothes of green, She like a warlike knight was seen, 90 And in most gallant gay deport She rode unto the Emperor's court.

Now when the Emperor beheld Her brave deportment, he was fill'd With admiration at the sight, 95 Who call'd herself an English knight.

The Emperor then did reply, "We have an English knight to die For drowning of his lady gay;" Quoth she, "I'd see him, if I may." 100

'Twas granted; so to him she came, And calling of him by his name, She said, "Kind sir, be of good cheer; Your friend I'll be, you need not fear."

She to the Emperor did ride, 105 And said, "Now let this cause be tried Once more, for I've a mind to save This noble gallant from the grave."

It being done, the court was set; The Dutch lord came, seeming to fret, 110 About the ring seeming to fear, How truth would make his shame appear.

And so it did, and soon they call The maid, who on her knees did fall Before the court, and did confess 115 The Dutch lord's unworthiness.

The court repliéd, "Is it so? The lady, too, for ought we know, May be alive; therefore we'll stay The sentence till another day." 120

Now the Dutch lord gave him a ton Of gold, which he had justly won, And so he did with shame and grief, And thus the knight obtain'd relief.

The Dutch lord to revenge the spite 125 Upon our noble English knight, Did send a letter out of hand, And so the Jew did understand,

How he was in a German court; So here upon this good report, 130 The Jew has cross'd the ocean wide, Resolving to be satisfied.

Soon as e'er he fixed his eyes, Unto the knight in wrath he cries, "Your hand and seal I pray behold; 135 Your flesh I'll have instead of gold."

[Then] said the noble knight in green, "May not your articles be seen?" "Yes, that they may," replied the Jew, "And I'm resolved to have my due." 140

So then the knight began to read; At length she said, "I find, indeed, Nothing but flesh you are to have;" Answers the Jew, "That's all I crave."

The poor distressed knight was brought; 145 The bloody-minded Jew he thought That day to be reveng'd on him, And part his flesh from every limb.

The knight in green said, "Mr. Jew, There's nothing else but flesh your due; 150 Then see no drop of blood you shed, For if you do, off goes your head.

"Pray take your due, with all my heart, But with his blood I will not part." With that the Jew sneaked away, 155 And had not one word more to say.

No sooner were these troubles past, But his wife's father came at last, Resolving for to have his life, For drowning his beloved wife. 160

Over the seas her father brought Many brave horses; one was bought By the pretended knight in green, Which was the best that e'er was seen.

So to the German court he came, 165 Declaring, such a one by name Had drowned his fair daughter dear, And ought to die a death severe.

They brought him from the prison then, Guarded by many armed men, 170 Unto the place where he must die, And the young knight was standing by.

Then from her side her sword she drew, And run her gelding through and through. Her father said, "Why do you so?" 175 "I may; it is my own, you know.

"You sold your gelding, 'tis well known; I bought it, making it my own, And may do what I please with it;" And then to her he did submit. 180

"Here is a man arraign'd and cast, And brought to suffer death at last, Because your daughter dear he slew; Which if he did, what's that to you?

"You had your money, when you sold 185 Your daughter for her weight in gold; Wherefore he might, it is well known, Do what he pleased with his own."

So having chang'd her garments green, And dress'd herself like a fair queen, 190 Her father and her husband straight Both knew her, and their joys were great.

Soon they did carry the report Unto the famous German court, How the renowned English knight 195 Had found his charming lady bright.

So the Emperor and the lords of fame, With cheerful hearts they did proclaim An universal joy, to see His lady's life at liberty.

GIGHT'S LADY. Appendix to p. 93.

From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 133.

Buchan complains that all other editions of this ballad "have been deprived of their original beauty and catastrophe" by officious and sacrilegious hands, and adds that his copy "is quite at variance with all its printed predecessors." In this last remark he is certainly correct, but as for his affirmation that the ballad "recounts an affair which actually took place in the reign, or rather minority, of King James VI.," we ask for some authority beyond his note to the ballad.

In another copy mentioned by Motherwell, Geordie, from jealousy, ungratefully drowns his deliverer in the sea.

"First I was lady o' Black Riggs, And then into Kincraigie; Now I am the Lady o' Gight, And my love he's ca'd Geordie.

"I was the mistress o' Pitfan, 5 And madam o' Kincraigie; But now my name is Lady Anne, And I am Gight's own lady.

"We courted in the woods o' Gight, Where birks and flow'rs spring bonny; 10 But pleasures I had never one, But sorrows thick and mony.

"He never own'd me as his wife, Nor honour'd me as his lady, But day by day he saddles the grey, 15 And rides to Bignet's lady."

When Bignet he got word of that, That Gight lay wi' his lady, He's casten him in prison strong, To ly till lords were ready. 20

"Where will I get a little wee boy, That is baith true and steady, That will run on to bonny Gight, And bring to me my lady?"

"O here am I, a little wee boy, 25 That is baith true and steady, That will run to the yates o' Gight, And bring to you your lady."

"Ye'll bid her saddle the grey, the grey, The brown rode ne'er so smartly; 30 Ye'll bid her come to Edinbro' town, A' for the life of Geordie."

The night was fair, the moon was clear, And he rode by Bevany, And stopped at the yates o' Gight, 35 Where leaves were thick and mony.

The lady look'd o'er castle wa', And dear but she was sorry! "Here comes a page frae Edinbro' town; A' is nae well wi' Geordie. 40

"What news, what news, my little boy? Come tell me soon and shortly;" "Bad news, bad news, my lady," he said, "They're going to hang your Geordie."

"Ye'll saddle to me the grey, the grey, 45 The brown rade ne'er so smartly; And I'll awa' to Edinbro' town, Borrow the life o' Geordie."

When she came near to Edinbro' town, I wyte she didna tarry; 50 But she has mounted her grey steed, And ridden the queen's berry.

When she came to the boat of Leith, I wat she didna tarry; She gae the boatman a guinea o' gowd, 55 To boat her ower the ferry.

When she came to the pier o' Leith, The poor they were sae many; She dealt the gowd right liberallie, And bade them pray for Geordie. 60

When she gaed up the tolbooth stair, The nobles there were many: And ilka ane stood hat on head, But hat in hand stood Geordie.

She gae a blink out ower them a', 65 And three blinks to her Geordie; But when she saw his een fast bound, A swoon fell in this lady.

"Whom has he robb'd? What has he stole? Or has he killed ony? 70 Or what's the crime that he has done, His foes they are sae mony?"

"He hasna brunt, he hasna slain, He hasna robbed ony; But he has done another crime, 75 For which he will pay dearly."

Then out it speaks Lord Montague, (O wae be to his body!) "The day we hang'd young Charles Hay, The morn we'll head your Geordie." 80

Then out it speaks the king himsell, Vow, but he spake bonny! "Come here, young Gight, confess your sins, Let's hear if they be mony.

"Come here, young Gight, confess your sins, 85 See ye be true and steady; And if your sins they be but sma', Then ye'se win wi' your lady."

"Nane have I robb'd, nought have I stown, Nor have I killed ony; 90 But ane o' the king's best brave steeds, I sold him in Bevany."

Then out it speaks the king again, Dear, but he spake bonny! "That crime's nae great; for your lady's sake, 95 Put on your hat now, Geordie."

Then out it speaks Lord Montague, O wae be to his body! "There's guilt appears in Gight's ain face, Ye'll cross examine Geordie." 100

"Now since it all I must confess, My crime's baith great and mony: A woman abused, five orphan babes, I kill'd them for their money."

Out it speaks the king again, 105 And dear but he was sorry! "Your confession brings confusion, Take aff your hat now, Geordie."

Then out it speaks the lady hersell, Vow, but she was sorry! 110 "Now all my life I'll wear the black, Mourn for the death o' Geordie."

Lord Huntly then he did speak out, O fair mot fa' his body! "I there will fight doublet alane, 115 Or ony thing ails Geordie."

Then out it speaks the king again, Vow, but he spake bonny! "If ye'll tell down ten thousand crowns, Ye'll buy the life o' Geordie." 120

She spread her mantle on the ground, Dear, but she spread it bonny! Some gae her crowns, some ducadoons, And some gae dollars mony. Then she tauld down ten thousand crowns,-- 125 "Put on your hat, my Geordie."

Then out it speaks Lord Montague, Wae be to his body! "I wisht that Gight wanted the head; I might enjoy'd his lady." 130

Out it speaks the lady hersell, "Ye need ne'er wish my body; O ill befa' your wizzen'd snout! Wou'd ye compare wi' Geordie?"

When she was in her saddle set, 135 Riding the leys sae bonny, The fiddle and fleet play'd ne'er sae sweet, As she behind her Geordie.

"O Geordie, Geordie, I love you well, Nae jealousie cou'd move me; 140 The birds in air, that fly in pairs, Can witness how I love you.

"Ye'll call for one, the best o' clerks, Ye'll call him soon and shortly; As he may write what I indite, 145 A' this I've done for Geordie."

He turn'd him right and round about, And high, high looked Geordie; "A finger o' Bignet's lady's hand Is worth a' your fair body." 150

"My lands may a' be masterless, My babes may want their mother; But I've made a vow, will keep it true, I'll be bound to no other."

These words they caus'd a great dispute, 155 And proud and fierce grew Geordie; A sharp dagger he pulled out, And pierc'd the heart o's lady.

The lady's dead, and Gight he's fled, And left his lands behind him; 160 Altho' they searched south and north, There were nane there cou'd find him.

Now a' that liv'd into Black Riggs, And likewise in Kincraigie, For seven years were clad in black, 165 To mourn for Gight's own lady.

GLOSSARY.

[Pointing hand] Figures placed after words denote the pages in which they occur.

aboon, _above_.

abye, _pay a penalty for_, _suffer_.

ae, _one_.

a-fit, _afoot_.

ahin, ahint, _behind_, _besides_.

airn, _iron_.

anceane, _ancient_, _aged_.

ane, 148?

aneath, _beneath_.

angel, _a coin worth from 6s. 8d. to 10s._

aninder, _under_.

anis, _once_.

aquoy, _coy_, _averse._

a-rowe, _in a row_.

assy-pan, 140, _ash-pan_.

astonyd, _confounded_.

athir, _either_.

atweel, _well_, _very well_.

atween, _between_.

avow, _vow_.

aw, _all_.

ayont, _beyond_, _on the other side of_.

ban'd, _execrated_.

bandoun, 150, _captivity_.

barker, _tanner_, from the bark used in his business.

barrow-hogge, 47, _a gelded hog_.

battes, _cudgels_, or _blows_.

bauld, 117, _bold_, _self-complacent_.

bayarde, _bay-horse_, _horse in general_: "blind Bayard" was a proverb.

be, _by_.

bede, 105, _put forward_, _offer_.

behuvit, _behoved_, _must_.

beik, 117, _warm_.

ben, bend, _in_.

bent, _coarse grass_, _field_.

berry, 285, corrupt?

besene, wel, _appearing well_, _well dressed_, _&c._

bet, _beat_.

bet, _better_.

beth, _both_.

betrasit, _betrayed_.

beur, _bore_.

big, 279, _cultivate_.

bigly, _spacious_, _commodious_.

bill, _bull_.

bill, _halbert_.

birk, _birch_.

birled, _poured out drink_, _drank_.

blanne, _stopped_.

bledoch, _buttermilk_.

blink, _smile_; blinkit, 95, _looked kindly_.

bolles, _bowls_.

borrow, borrowit, _ransom_, _ransomed_.

bot and, _but also_.

boud, 264, _behoved_, _must needs_.

bouks, _bodies_.

bour, bower, _chamber_, _dwelling_.

bowne, _ready_.

brast, _burst_.

brat, _cloth_.

bra', braw, _brave_, _handsome_; braw wallie, _fair fortune_, exclamation of pleasure or admiration.

brayn-pannes, _skulls_.

bred, _breed_.

bree, _soup_, _broth_.

brenning, _burning_; brenyng drake, _fire-drake_, _fiery dragon_.

brest, _burst_.

bricht, the, 149, _the fair one_.

brode-hen, 105, _brood-hen_, _sitting-hen_?

brodit, _pierced_.

brok, bruik, bruke, _have possession of_, _enjoy_, _keep_.

bruchty, _spotted_, or _streaked_ with dirt; brucket yowe, 140, _speckled ewe_.

brunt, _burnt_.

bur, _bore_.

burne, _brook_.

buskit, _dressed_.

but and ben, _out and in_.

ca'd, _called_; 16, _driven_.

cadgily, _merrily_.

can, could, used as auxiliaries to form the perfect and pluperfect tenses.

cannilie, _softly_.

cantels, _pieces_.

canty, _merry_.

capull, _horse_.

carle, _fellow_.

carpe, _to talk_, _discourse_, _tell stories_.

casey, _causeway_.

caud, _called_.

cauk, _chalk_.

chappit, _tapped_, _knocked_.

cheape, _bargain_.

chefe, cheveron, _upper part of the escutcheon_.

chiel, _young man_, _servant_.

childer-gamme, _children's game_.

choice, _choose_.

Christendye, _Christendom_.

claise, _clothes_.

clead, _clad_.

cleikit, _caught_.

cleir, _bright_.

clenkyng, _clinking_.

coffer, _head-dress_, _cap_.

coft, _bought_, _redeemed_.

cokeney, 115, "seems to be a diminutive for cook," says Percy. The word more probably denotes some kind of _lean or common meat_. See Wright's note.

cold, _could_.

comyn, _come_.

con, see can.

confound, _destroy_.

coost, 110, _region_, _direction_.

could of courtesie, _knew what was good manners_.

cors, _body_.

couple, _rafter_.

courtnalls, a disrespectful (?) name for _courtiers_.

cow, _twig_.

cowth ring, 148, _had reigned_; see can.

crap, _crop_, _yield_.

crech, _creek_, _crutch_.

creppid, _crept_.

crook (my knee), _make lame_. They say in the North, "the horse crooks," _i. e._ goes lame. Percy.

crouse, _brisk_, _merry_.

cummerit, _vexed_, _bothered_.

cund hir thank, _gave her thanks_.

cunnand, _covenant_, _engagement_.

curtass, _courteous_.

daigh, _dough_.

dang, _knocked_.

dawing, _dawning_.

de, dee, _die_; deed, _died_.

denay, _refuse_.

dent, _blow_.

deport, 274, _array_.

deray, _ruin_, _confusion_.

descryed, _described_, _related_.

develling, 142, _sauntering_.

dicht, 150, _circumstanced_: dicht to deid, 151, _done_ or _put to death_.

disjune, _breakfast_.

dizt, (dight), _dressed_.

do, dow, you down, _take yourself down_.

dole, dool, _grief_.

donned, 105, _dun_.

douse, _blow_.

doute, _fear_.

dow, _dove_.

down-browit, _scowling_.

doz troz, _dough trough_.

drake, _dragon_.

drowryis, _love-gifts_.

dryt, _dirt_.

ducadoons, _ducats_. (?)

dulfully, _dolefully_, _sadly_.

dun feather and gray, by, 88, _by a carrier pigeon_.

dungin down, _beat down_, _overcame_.

duzty, _doughty_; duztynesse, _doughtiness_.

dyke, _ditch_ or _wall_.

earn, 100, _curdle_.

ee, ene, _eye_, _eyes_.

eftir syne, _afterwards_.

eneuch, _enough_.

ey, _egg_.

fa', _fall_, _befall_.

fain, _glad_, _pleased_, _enamored_.

fairheid, _beauty_.

fald, 148, _fold_, _embrace_.

falle, _fell_.

fancy, _love_.

fand, _found_.

fang, _grasp_ (_and carry off_).

fannes, 111, _winnowing fans_.

fare, _go_.

fauld, _fold_.

fay, _faith_.

fecht, _fight_.

feckless, 282, _poor_, _miserable_.

fee, _property_.

feind fall, _the devil take_.

fel, 102, 111, _many_. (?)

fell, _hide_.

fere, _mate_.

ferly, _wonder_, _miracle_; _wonderfully_.

fet, _fetched_.

ffor, 105, _from_, _against_.

firm, 199, _first_? Qy. corrupt?

firstae, _first one_, _first_.

fitted, 195, _disposed_?

flatred, _flattened_, _broken_?

fleechin, _wheedling_.

fleet, _flute_.

flirry, _blossom_.

fold, 148, _ground_, _world_.

fole, _full_.

fond, _foolish_.

forbye, _over and above_.

forfend, _forbid_.

forfozt, _worn out with fighting_.

forrow, _before_.

fow, _full_.

fowkyn, _crepitus ventris_. Percy.

fre, _free_, _noble_.

freke, _man_, _fellow_.

fullily, _foully_.

fusome, _fulsome_.

ga, _go_.

ga', _gall_.

gaberlunzie, _a wallet_; gaberlunzie-man, _a man that carries a wallet_, _beggar_.

gabs, _mouths_.

gadlyngs, _idle lads_.

gait, _path_, _way_.

gane, _gone_.

gappe, 106, _entrance of the lists_.

gar, _cause_, _make_.

gaun, _going_.

gear, geere, _property_.

gedurt, _gathered_.

gife, gin, _if_.

gip, 153, like gup, _get up_, _be off_, _&c._

gled, _kite_.

gloamin', _twilight_.

gloom, _frown_.

goud, _gold_.

gowt, 108, v. 109, MS. Harl., should perhaps be, "_yf I_ have," &c.

grate, _scratch_.

gravat, _cravat_.

graythid, _made ready_.

gre, 105, _prize_.

greave, _manager of a farm_.

grit, _great_.

gudefather, _father-in-law_.

gurde, _struck_.

gyand, gyane, _giant_.

had, _hold_.

hairt, _heart_.

hard, _heard_.

harnis, _brains_.

harnys, 110, _horns_.

harwos, _harrows_.

haud, _hold_, _keep_.

he, _high_, _noble_.

heck, _hatch_, _small-door_.

heid, _head_.

hellis-cruk, 148, _a crook by which vessels are hung over the fire_.

hend, 152, _gentle_; Aytoun reads, "hain'd," _spared_, _saved_.

hent, _took_.

het, _heated_.

hicher, _higher_.

hight, _promised_.

hilt, _taken_.

hindir, 148, _hundred_.

hiphalt, _lame in the hip_.

hireman chiel, _man-servant_.

hit, _it_.

holt, _grove_; sometimes, _hill_.

horse-brat, _horse-cloth_.

husband, _husbandman_.

hussy, _housewife_; husyskep, _housekeeping_.

hynt, _took_.

hyzt, _promised_.

ifere, _together_.

ilka, _each_.

ill-fardly, _ill-favoredly_, _uglily_.

ill-willy, _ill-natured_.

in-fere, _together_.

ingle, _fire_.

intil, _in_.

i-wiss, _surely_, _for a certainty_; sometimes seems to be ignorantly employed for I wot, _I know_.

jetted, 41, _went proudly_.

jimp, _slender_.

jumlit, 119, _stirred rapidly_, used of the motion of churning.

kaily, _cabbage-like_.

kall, _drive_.

kavis, _calves_.

keel, _red ochre_.

keming-stock, _back of a chimney grate_.

kest, _cast_.

kexis, _dried stalks of hemlock_.

kid, _displayed_.

kill, _kiln_.

kind, _nature_.

kirn, _churn_.

kists, _chests_.

kned, _kneed_.

know, _knoll_.

ky, _cows_.

kynde, _nature_, _habit_; comyn of kynde, 107, _come of a good strain_?

kyrne, _churn_; kyrnd, _churned_.

laigher, _lower_.

laith, _loath_; laithliest, _loathsomest_.

laitis, lusty, _pleasant manners_.

lambs-wool, _a beverage made of ale and roasted apples_.

lane, her, _alone by herself_.

lauchty, 141, _pale_, _white_?

lawing, _scot_, _tavern-reckoning_.

leal, _honest_.

lear'd, _learned_.

led, 151, (of laws) _carried out_. (?)

lenth, _length_.

lese, _lose_.

let, _desist_, _omit_.

leuch, _laughed_.

lever, _rather_.

leys, _leas_.

lightlye, _without good reason_.

likame, _body_.

lintseed bow, _the globule which contains the seed of flax_.

lizt, _light_.

lone, in the, 119, "_an opening between fields of corn, for driving the cattle homeward, or milking cows_."

losel, _worthless fellow_.

lout, _let_.

louz, lowe, _laughed_.

low, _flame_.

lowte, _bow_; lowtit, _bent_.

lugs, _ears_.

lyarde, _gray horse_, _horse in general_.

lyt, _little_, _a little while_.

mane, _moan_.

maries, _maid-servants_.

maun, _must_.

mavis, _song-thrush_.

may, _maid_.

meen, _moan_.

meisseine, 195, _mizzen-sail_.

mekle, _much_.

menzie, _many_, _retinue_.

merk, _dark_, _sad_.

micht, _might_.

micull, _great_.

minny, _mother_.

moe, _more_.

mone, _man_.

mot, mought, _may_.

mou, mow, _mouth_.

muckle, _much_.

muir, _moor_.

myskaryd, 104, _miscarried_, _disadvantageously disposed of_.

nappy (of ale), _strong_.

native, 162, _true-born_.

neb, _nose_, _beak_.

nedis hase spedde, _succeeded in what he wanted_.

neis, _nose_.

neist, _next_.

nolles, _heads_.

nones, _nonce_.

nourice, _nurse_.

nozt, _nought_.

ohon, _alas_.

on loft, 112, _aloft_, i. e. _standing up_, or _on horseback_.

onys, _once_.

other, 110, _or_?

our, ower, _over_, _too_; our all quhair, 148, _everywhere_.

ourtuk, _overtook_.

pairt, _part_.

palmer, _pilgrim_, _vagabond_.

panis, _pains_.

pannell, panele, 41, 108, _a rustic saddle_, _a pad_, _without frame or bow_.

paramour, 148, _passionately_.

partake, 212, _impart_, _assign_.

pass, _care_.

pat-fit, _pot-foot_.

pawky, _sly_.

pechmyn, _parchment_.

peit, 269, _whip_.

pele, _long-handled baker's shovel_.

pendles, _ear-rings_.

Pirie's chair, 282?

ploo-mell, plow-mell, _"a small wooden hammer occasionally fixed to the plough_." Percy.

ploom, _plum_.

pluch, _plough_.

pollis, _polls_.

porcupig, _porcupine_.

poudurt, _powdered_.

prayse-folk, 114?

prees, _press_, _crowd_.

prest, _ready_, _eager_.

priefe, _prove_.

priving, _proof_.

progeny, 158, _descent_.

quert, 150, _high spirits_, _hilarity_.

quha, _&c. who_, _&c._

quhill, _till_.

ra, _roe_.

ramped, rampit, _rushed violently_, _pranced about in bad humor_.

rant, _make merry_, _riot_.

rarely, 229, _dear_.

raton, _rat_.

rauzt, _reft_, _took away_.

reade, _advice_.

record, 247, _avowal_; draw to record, _take to witness_.

red, 119, to part (them).

reet, 141, _root_.

refe, _steward_, _bailiff_.

remorse, 164, _tenderness of feeling_.

renning, _running_.

reve, _take from_.

richt, _right_.

ridand, _riding_.

ring, 148, _reign_.

rok, _distaff_.

roose, 87, _boast of_, _commend_.

root, 268, rout, i. e. _stretch_, or _tramp_?

rost, thu carpis of cold, 110, (proverb), _thou speakest to no purpose_?

round claith and small, 118?

rout, _blow_.

rowte, _crowd_.

rowe, a-, upon a row, _in a row_.

ruell bones, see Gloss. to vol. i.

ruggut, _pulled violently_.

rung, _cudgel_, _staff_.

ryschys, _rushes_.

ryzt, _right_.

sa, _so_.

sair, _suit_, _satisfy_.

sark, _shirt_.

say, _essay_.

scart, _scratch_.

scho, _she_.

schondir, in, _asunder_.

se'en, _seven_.

sen, _since_.

sen, _send_, _grant_.

senvye, _mustard-seed_.

serk, _shirt_.

set, _suit_.

sevensum, _seven_.

sheave, _slice_.

shent, 66, _shamed_.

shott-window, _projecting window_.

shouthers, _shoulders_.

shriefe, _sheriff_.

shurtyng, 103, _sport_, _pastime_.

sic, siccan, _such_.

sicht, _sight_.

side, _long_.

sith, sithence, _since_.

six-mennys song, _song for six voices_.

skomfet, _discomfit_.

skumd, _skimmed_.

slatred, _broken_, _cracked_.

slee, _sly_.

smeek, _smoke_.

sonde, _sending_.

sooth, _truth_, _troth_.

sorrow, _devil a bit_.

sort, _style_; _company_, _swarm_ (of bees).

sot, 247, _fool_.

sould, _should_.

sowkit, _sucked_.

spait, _flood_, _freshet_.

spare, 141, _opening in a gown or petticoat_.

speal, 280, _chip_ or _shaving_. The sense?

speer, _ask for_.

speere, 67, "an aperture in the wall, shot-window." Aytoun. (?)

spence, _expense_.

spright, sprite, _spirit_.

spyre, _a post or pillar, supporting a shelf on which victuals are put_. See _Gloss._ to Jamieson's _Pop. Ball._

stark, _stiff_, _strong_.

sted, stede, _place_.

steer, _stir_.

stert, _started_.

stock, _the forepart of a bed further from the wall_.

stollin, _stolen_.

stondis, _stands_.

stottis, _oxen_.

stound, _time_.

stoure, 119, _hurry_.

stown, _stolen_.

strae, _straw_.

strene, this, 120, _yesternight_.

stripe, 199, _measure_.

swa, _so_.

swear, _oath_.

swete, 103, qy. sweté, _sweaty?_

swippyng, _striking fast_, as in threshing.

swipylles, 112; "a swepyl is _that staff of the flail with which the corn is beaten out_, vulgarly a supple," Percy: _swingle_.

swynkers, _laborers_.

syde, _long_.

syne, _then_.

tald, _told_.

tee, _too_.

teene, _sorrow_, _suffering_.

tent, 58, "_a kind of Alicant, a general name for Spanish wines, except white_." Halliwell.

tha, _then_.

than, _then_.

thannes, _thence_.

thee, _thrive_.

then, _than_.

think lang, _suffer from ennui_.

thir, _these_.

tho, _then_.

thouz, _though_.

thrang, _close_.

thristing, _thirsting_.

thristlecock, _throstle_, _thrush_.

thrustand, _thrusting_, _pressing_.

tide, _time_.

tint, _lost_.

tittles and tattles, "_clots of dirt such as hang on a cow's tail_."

to-brast, _burst in pieces_.

to-claterde, 111, _beaten in_ (with noise)?

to-flaterde, 111, _broken to pieces?_

tokynyng, 107, _token_, _sign_.

tolbooth, _prison_.

tone, _taken_.

trestly, _truly_, _confidently_.

trippande, _tripping_.

tryst, _an appointment to meet_; _to make such an appointment_.

tuggut, _tugged_.

twatling, 43, _small_, _piddling_.

twine, _part_ (_from_).

unhappy, 42, _ill-conditioned_.

unlusum, _unlovely_, _revolting_; was his likame dicht, 150, _unlovely was the condition into which his body was brought_.

up, _upon_; upon lofte, _on high_.

verrey, _very_, _true_.

vow, _exclamation of admiration_.

wa', _wall_.

wad, _would_.

wad, _wager_.

waft, _weft_, _woof_.

wale, _choose_.

wallow't, _became pale_.

wame, _belly_, _stomach_.

wan, 91, _come_, _got_.

war, _worse_.

ware, _aware_.

waryd, _cursed_.

wat, _know_.

wearifu', _causing pain or trouble_.

wede, _dress_.

weel-faurd, _well-favored_, _fair_.

weet, _know_.

weir, _war_.

weir, 149, _were_.

weloo, interjection of grief.

we'se, _we shall or will_.

wha's aucht, _who is it owns?_

whang, _slice_.

whereas, _where that_, _where_.

white moneye, _silver_.

whoard, _hoard_, _keep_.

whorles and spindles, 101, "_instruments used in Scotland for spinning instead of spinning-wheels_." Percy.

wicht, _wight_, _creature_.

wiel, _wield_.

wight, _quick_.

will, _uncertain how to proceed_, _distracted_.

win, _go_.

winna, _will not_.

winsome, _gay_, _comely_, _pleasant_.

withouttin, _without_.

witted, 195, _endowed with wit?_ wo, woo, _sad_.

wobs, _webs_.

woir, _worse_.

wood, _frantic_.

wow, _woe_.

wow, _vow_; exclamation of admiration.

woweir, _wooer_, _suitor_.

wraik, _wreck_.

wrest and wrang, 113, _writhed and twisted_.

wryth away, _put aside_.

wynne, _joy_.

wynnit, _dwelt_.

wyspys, _wisps_.

wyte, _blame_.

wyte, for wot, _know_.

yates, _gates_.

ycha, _every_.

yeersel, _yourself_.

yeid, _went_.

ye'se, _you shall or will_.

yestreen, _yesterday_.

yetts, _gates_.

ying, _young_.

yirne, _curdle_.

ze, _ye_.

zede, _went_.

zet, _yet_.

zong, _young_.

INDEX.

The titles by which ballads are designated in this collection are here printed in Roman letters; other titles, whether of ballads included in this collection, or not, and in general, all other references, in Italic.

In looking for a title, the articles, both the definite and the indefinite, are to be dropped. "O. B." denotes the often-referred-to Collection of 1723: "P. S." Percy Society Publications: = signifies that two pieces are equivalent.

* * * * *

_Aage og Else_, Danish bal. 2, 145.

Adam Bel, Clym of the Cloughe, and Wyllyam of Cloudeslé. 5, 124, 1.

_Adam Gordon_ (the freebooter). 6, 149: 5, xix.

_Adventures of Faravla_, &c., Irish Fairy tale. 8, 284.

_Agnete og Havmanden_, Danish ballad. 1, 179.

Alison Gross. 1, 168.

Allerlei-Rauh, German tale. 8, 172.

_Alphonso and Ganselo_ (or, _Faithful Friendship_), Garl. G. Will, p. 60, P. S. xxx: O. B. 2, 145: Evans, 1, 354.

Als y yod on ay Mounday. 1, 273, 126.

_Amadis._ 1, 5, 6.

Andrew Lammie. 2, 190.

Annan Water. 2, 186.

_Apuleius, Metam._ 1, 162.

_Arabian Nights._ 1, 5; 8, 54.

Archie of Ca'field. 6, 88, 81.

_Arden of Feversham._ Evans, 3, 217.

_Armenian Lady's Love_, Wordsworth's. 4, 202.

Armstrong's Good-Night. 6, 40.

Armstrong and Musgrave. 8, 243.

_Artèmire_, Voltaire's. 3, 242.

As I came from Walsingham. 4, 191.

_As I was walking under a grove_. 1, 128.

_As You Like It_. 5, xxv: 8, 144.

_Aschenputtel_, German tale. 8, 172.

_Audam and Doorkhaunee_, Afghan tale. 2, 120.

Auld Maitland. 6, 217.

_Ausgleichung_, German ballad. 1, 5.

_Babe Nourice_. 2, 40.

Babylon, or, The Bonnie Banks o' Fordie. 2, 277.

_Baffled Knight_. Percy, 2, 362: = _Too Courteous Knight_, Ritson, Anc. Songs, 2, 54: Durfey, 3, 37: = _The Shepherd's Son_, Herd, 2, 267: = _Jock Sheep_, Kinloch, Ballad Book, p. 17: = _Blow the Winds, Heigh Ho_, Anc. Poems, &c., p. 123, P. S. xvii. Bell, _id._ p. 82.

Bailiff's Daughter of Islington. 4, 158.

_Ballad of Matrymonie_. 8, 182.

_Bandello_. 3, 242, 370; 6, 209.

Barbara Allen's Cruelty. 2, 158.

Barbara Livingston. 4, 270.

_Baron (or Laird) o' Leys_. Buchan, 2, 144; Kinloch, B. B. 74.

Baron of Brackley. 6, 188, 192.

_Baron turned Ploughman_. 8, 233.

_Bateman's Tragedy_. O. B. 1, 261. Ritson, Anc. Songs, 2, 95.

Battle of Alford. 7, 238.

Battle of Balrinnes. 7, 214.

Battle of Bothwell Bridge. 7, 148, 149.

Battle of Corichie. 7, 210.

Battle of Glenlivet. 7, 214.

Battle of Harlaw. 7, 181, 317.

Battle of Killiecrankie. 7, 152.

Battle of Loudon Hill. 7, 144.

Battle of Otterbourne. 7, 3, 19, 29, 177.

Battle of Pentland Hills. 7, 240.

Battle of Philiphaugh. 7, 131.

Battle of _Sherramoor_ (Burns). 6, 157.

Battle of Sheriff-Muir. 7, 156, 260.

Battle of _Strath-aven_. 7, 214, 217.

Battle of Tranent-Muir, or Preston-Pans. 7, 167.

_Beautiful Lady of Kent_. Bal. of Peasantry, P. S. xvii. 130; Bell, _id._ 84.

_Bent Sae Brown_. 2, 57.

_Bergkonungen_, Swedish bal. 1, 179.

_Berkshire Lady's Garland_. Bal. of Peasantry, P. S. xvii. 138; Moore, 456.

Bessie Bell and Mary Gray. 3, 126.

_Betrayed Lady_. 4, 180.

_Bettelman_, German bal. 8, 98.

Billie Archie. 6, 94.

_Binnorie_. 2, 231.

Birth of Robin Hood. 5, 170, 392.

[_de la_] _Blanca Niña_, Spanish ballad. ii. 319.

Blancheflour and Jellyflorice. 4, 295.

Blind Beggar's Daughter of Bednall Green. 4, 161.

Blood-Stained Son (_Der blutige Sohn_, translated). 2, 350.

_Blow the Winds, Heigh Ho = Baffled Knight_.

Bludy Serk. 8, 147.

_Blue Beard_, 2, 272.

_Blue Bird_, fairy tale. 1, 171.

_Bold Burnett's Daughter = Bonny Hynd_.

Bold Pedlar and Robin Hood. 5, 248.

_Bold Rankin_. 3, 95.

Bondsey and Maisry. 2, 379, 298.

Bonnie Annie. 3, 47.

Bonnie Banks o' Fordie. 2, 277.

Bonnie George Campbell. 3, 92.

Bonnie House o' Airly. 6, 183, 186.

_Bonnie Lass of Anglesey_. Herd, 2, 190: Buchan, 2, 63.

_Bonnie Susie Cleland_. 2, 78.

Bonny Baby Livingston. 4, 38.

Bonny Barbara Allan. 2, 155.

Bonny Bee-Ho'm. 3, 57: 2, 215.

_Bonny Birdy_. 2, 22.

Bonny Bows o' London. 2, 360.

Bonny Earl of Murray. 7, 119, 121: 3, 88.

_Bonny Hind Squire_. 8, 11, 83.

_Bonny Hynd_. Scott's _Minstrelsy_, 3, 307: = _Lizie Wan_, Herd, ed. 1776, 1, 91: = The _Broom blooms bonnie_, &c. Motherwell, lxxxiv. 189: = _Castle Ha's Daughter_, Buchan, 1, 241. Also called _Lady Jean_, Motherwell, Appendix, p. xxi., and _Bold Burnett's Daughter_, Buchan, 1, 315.

Bonny John Seton. 7, 230.

_Bonny May_. 4, 45.

Bothwell. 1, 158, 152.

_Bothwell Lines_. 7, 149.

Boy and the Mantle. 1, 3.

Boyne Water. 7, 253.

Braes o' Yarrow. 3, 69: Logan's, 2, 182.

Brave Earl Brand and the King of England's Daughter. 2, 388, 114.

Brave Lord Willoughby. 7, 114.

Bride's Testament = Cruel Brother.

_Broom blooms bonnie_, &c. = _Bonny Hynd_.

Broom of Cowdenknows. 4, 45.

Broomfield Hill. 1, 131.

Brown Adam. 4, 60.

_Brown Robin._ 2, 9. Buchan, 2, 299.

_Brume_, _brume on hil_. 1, 131.

Burd Ellen. 3, 213, 205, 269.

Burd Ellen and Young Tamlane. 1, 271.

_Burd Helen._ 3, 192.

Burning of Auchindown, see Willie Mackintosh.

By Landsdale hey ho. 5, 431.

_Camille, ou la Manière de filer le parfait Amour._ 1, 5.

Captain Car. 6, 147.

Captain Wedderburn's Courtship. 8, 11, 5.

_Carl of Kellyburn Braes._ 8, 257.

_Carle of Carlile._ 8, 140.

_Carnal and the Crane._ 1, 315.

_Castle Ha's Daughter_ = _Bonny Hynd_.

Catherine Johnstone. 4, 34.

Catskin's Garland, (or, The Wandering Young Gentlewoman.) 8, 172.

_Ce qui plaît aux Dames_, Voltaire's. 1, 29.

_Cendrillon_, _Cennerentola_. 8, 172.

_[du] Chevalier qui fist sa Fame confesse, fabliau_. 6, 209.

Chevy-Chace. 7, 43, 25.

Chil Ether. 4, 299.

_Child Brenton._ 1, 152.

Child Noryce. 2, 40.

Child of Elle. 3, 224, 220; 2, 114.

Child Rowland and Burd Ellen. 1, 245.

Child Waters. 3, 205, 269.

Childe Maurice, _Chield Morice_. 2, 313, 30.

Childe Vyet. 2, 72.

Children in the Wood. 3, 128.

Child's Last Will. 2, 366.

_Cinthio's Heccatomithi._ 8, 60.

Clerk Colvill. 1, 192; 2, 271.

_Clerk of Oxenford's Tale_, Chaucer's. 4, 207.

Clerk Saunders. 2, 45, 318, 53, 57, 82.

Clerk's Twa Sons o' Owsenford. 2, 63; 1, 214.

Clerk Tamas. 3, 349.

_Cokwolds Daunce._ 1, 17.

_Conde de Barcelona y la Emperatriz de Alemania._ 3, 242.

Constance of Cleveland. 4, 225.

_Constancy of Susanna._ 8, 198.

_Constant Penelope._ 8, 207.

Constantine and Areté. 1, 304, 307, 217.

_Contes à rire._ 8, 3.

_Corn, lai du._ 1, 3.

Cospatrick. 1, 152.

_Countess of Errol_, see _Errol_.

_Coupe Enchantée._ 1, 4.

_Court Mantel._ 1, 4.

_Courteous King Jamie._ 1, 147.

Courteous Knight. 8, 272, 11.

_Covering Blue_ = _Keach in the Creel_.

_Crafty Lover, or, The Lawyer outwitted._ Bell, Ball. of Peasantry, 110.

_Crafty Ploughboy, or, The Highwayman outwitted_. 8, 265.

Croodlin Doo. 2, 363.

Cruel Black. 3, 370.

Cruel Brother, or, The Bride's Testament. 2, 251, 257, 265.

_Cruel Brother_, Swedish bal. 2, 46.

_Cruel Jew's Garland._ 8, 46.

_Cruel Knight._ 2, 291.

Cruel Mother. 2, 267, 269, 372, 257.

Cruel Sister. 2, 231.

_Cunning Clerk_ = _Keach in the Creel_.

_Cymbeline._ 8, 277.

Dæmon Lover. 1, 201, 302.

_David and Bathsheba._ 8, 198.

_Dead Man's Song of Heaven and Hell._ Evans, 1, 297; Ritson, Anc. Songs, old ed., p. 286; Brit. Bibliog. 2, 136, &c.

_Death of John Seton._ 7, 230.

_Death of Keeldar._ 6, 140.

Death of Parcy Reed. 6, 179.

Death of Queen Jane. 7, 77.

_Decameron._ 2, 382; 4, 207; 6, 209.

_Demaundes Joyous._ 8, 3.

_Devil and the Scold._ 8, 257.

Dialogue between Will Lick-Ladle and Tom Clean-Cogue. 7, 260, 157.

Dick o' the Cow. 6, 67.

_Dolopathos._ 8, 45.

_Donald of the Isles._ 4, 68, 76.

_Doralice._ 8, 172.

_Douglas_, Home's. 2, 28.

Douglas Tragedy. 2, 114; 3, 220, 223; 5, 334.

_Dowie Den._ 3, 65.

Dowie Dens of Yarrow. 3, 63.

Dragon of Wantley. 8, 128.

_Dronken Hansje._ 8, 55.

Drowned Lovers. 2, 175.

_Drunkard's Legacy._ 8, 60.

Duchess of Suffolk's Calamity. 7, 298, 115.

Duel of Wharton and Stuart. 8, 259.

_Duke Hamilton._ Smith's Scot. Mins., 2, 58.

_Duke of Argyle's Courtship._ Buchan, 2, 148.

Duke of Athol. 4, 94.

Duke of Athol's Nurse. 8, 228, 231.

Duke of Gordon's Daughter. 4, 102.

Duke of Perth's Three Daughters. 2, 281.

_Dumb Wife of Aberdour._ Aytoun, 2, 185.

_Durham Garland._ Ritson, Bish. Gar. p. 1.

_Dysmal._ 2, 382.

_Earl Crawford._ Buchan, 1, 61.

_Earl Lithgow._ 3, 260.

_Earl Marshal._ 6, 209.

_Earl of Errol_, see _Errol_.

Earl of Mar's Daughter. 1, 171.

Earl Richard (A). 3, 3, 10, 293.

Earl Richard (B). 3, 266, 395.

Earl Robert. 3, 26.

_Edda._ 1, 213; 8, 139.

Edom o' Gordon. 6, 147, 154; 7, 216.

Edward. 2, 225, 219, 251.

_Edwin and Emma_, Goldsmith's. 4, 189.

_Eitle Dinge_, German ballads. 1, 128.

_Elfer Hill._ 1, 298.

Elfin Knight. 1, 128, 277.

_Elfrida and Sir James of Perth._ 3, 73.

_Elf-Woman and Sir Olof_, Swedish bal. 1, 298.

_Ellen Irwin_, Wordsworth's. 2, 208.

_Elveskud_, Danish bal. 1, 298.

Enchanted Ring. 3, 53.

Eppie Morie. 6, 260, 203.

_Erle of Tolous._ 3, 242.

Erlinton. 3, 220; 2, 114.

_Errol_, _Earl of Errol, &c._ Sharpe, B. B., p. 89: = Kinloch, B. B., p. 31: = _Countess of Errol_, Buchan, 2, 176, and Gleanings, p. 158: = _Errol's Place_, Maidment's N. C. G., p. 31.

_Eulenspiegel._ 8, 3, 4.

Execution of Sir Simeon Fraser. 6, 274.

_Facezie_ of Arlotto. 8, 167.

_Factor's Garland._ O. B. 3, 221: = Sheldon, p. 274.

_F[oe]stemanden i Graven_, Danish ballad. 2, 145.

Fair Annie. 3, 191, 198.

Fair Annie of Lochroyan. 2, 98.

Fair Flower of Northumberland. 4, 180.

Fair Helen of Kirconnell. 2, 207.

Fair Janet. 2, 86, 80, 120.

_Fair Mabel of Wallington_ (= _The Mild Mary_): Ritson, Northumb. Garl. p. 38.

Fair Margaret and Sweet William. 2, 140, 162.

Fair Margaret of Craignargat. 8, 249.

_Fair Midel and Kirsten Lyle_, Danish bal. 2, 342.

Fair Rosamond. 7, 283.

_Fairy Queen._ 1, 5.

_Faithful Friendship_, see _Alphonso and Ganselo_.

False Sir John. 2, 271.

[_den_] _Falske Riddaren_, Swedish bal. 2, 272.

Famous Flower of Serving-Men. 4, 174; 3, 86.

Farmer's Old Wife. 8, 257.

Fause Foodrage. 3, 40, 159.

Fause Knight upon the Road. 8, 269.

Fause Lover. 4, 89.

_Felon Sowe of Rokeby._ Ev. 3, 270; Moore, 187; Scott, Notes to Rokeby; Robson, Metr. Romances, p. 105, Camden Soc., No. 18, etc.

_Fine Flowers i' the Valley._ 2, 257.

Fine Flowers in the Valley. 2, 265.

_Finette Cendron._ 8, 172.

Fire of Frendraught. 6, 173.

_Fischer_, Goethe's. 1, 298.

_Fitchers Vogel_, German tale., 2, 272.

Flemish Insurrection. 6, 269.

Flodden Field. 7, 71.

_Florent and the King of Sicily's Daughter_, Gower's tale., 1, 29.

_Florice and Blancheflour._ 4, 295.

_Flourence de Romme, Le Dit de._ 3, 159.

Fray of Suport. 6, 115.

_Frennet Hall._ 6, 177.

_Frère de Lait_, Breton bal. 1, 217.

Friar in the Well. 8, 122.

_Frolicksome Courtier and Jovial Tinker._ 8, 55.

Frolicksome Duke, or, The Tinker's Good Fortune. 8, 54.

From Bogie Side, or, The Marquis's Raide. 7, 267, 156.

_Fryer and the Maid._ 8, 122.

Gaberlunzie Man. 8, 98.

_Galien Rethoré._ 1, 231.

Gallant Grahams. 7, 137.

_Gamelyn, Cook's Tale of._ 5, xxv. 38.

Gardener. 4, 92.

Gay Goss-Hawk. 3, 277; 2, 10.

Gentle Herdsman, tell to me. 4, 187.

Gentleman in Thracia. 8, 158.

Geordie, _Geordie Luklie._ 8, 92, 96, 93.

George Barnwell. 8, 213.

_Georgics._ 1, 125.

Gernutus the Jew of Venice. 8, 45.

_Gesta Romanorum._ 1, 5, 7, 276; 8, 3, 45, 147, 158.

Get up and bar the door. 8, 125.

Gifts from over Sea. 8, 271, 11.

Gight's Lady. 8, 285, 93.

Gilderoy. 6, 196.

Gil Morrice. 2, 28.

_Girl clad in Mouse-skin_, Swedish tale. 8, 173.

Glasgerion. 2, 3.

Glasgow Peggy. 4, 76.

Glenkindie. 2, 3.

Glenlogie. 4, 80.

_Godiva. How Coventry was made free by Godina_ (sic), _Countess of Chester._ Evans, 2, 29.

_Golden Glove, or, The Squire of Tamworth._ Ball. of Peas. P. S. xvii. 106; Bell, _id._ 70.

_Golden Legend._ 1, 70.

_Gowans sae gay._ 1, 195.

Graeme and Bewick. 3, 77.

_Graf Hans von Holstein und seine Schwester Annchristine_, German bal. 2, 78.

_Grandmother Adder-Cook_, German bal. 2, 364.

[_der_] _Grausame Bruder_, German bal. 2, 79.

_Green Broom-Field._ 1, 136.

Greensleeves. 4, 240.

_Greve Genselin_, Danish ballad., 8, 139.

_Grey Cock._ Herd, 2, 278.

[_der_] _Grobe Bruder_, German bal. 2, 79.

[_den_] _Grymma Brodern_, Swedish bal. 2, 319.

Gude Wallace. 6, 232.

_Guy of Warwick._ 1, 62.

Gypsie Laddie. 4, 114.

_Hakon Borkenbart_, Swedish saga. 4, 207.

_Hardyknute._ 3, 40, 148.

_Harpans Kraft_, Swedish and Danish bal. 2, 8.

_Haughs o' Yarrow._ 3, 65.

Haws of Cromdale. 7, 234.

Hawthorn Tree. 1, 311.

[_der_] _Heilige Georg_, German legend. 1, 70.

Heir of Linne. 8, 60, 70.

_Helgakvitha Hundingsbana_, II., 1, 213.

_Henry and Emma_, Prior's. 4, 143.

_Hero and Leander._ 8, 207.

_Herodotus._ 1, 6.

_Herr Aester ok Fröken Sissa_, Swedish bal. 1, 152.

_Herr Halewyn_, Dutch bal. 2, 272.

_Herr Malmstens Dröm_, Swedish bal. 2, 141.

_Herr Medelvold_, Danish bal., 2, 342.

_Herr Peder och Liten Kerstin_, Swedish bal. 2, 125.

_Herr Peders Sjöresa_, Swedish bal. 3, 47.

_Herr Redevall_, Swedish bal., 2, 342.

_Herr Sallemand_, Danish bal., 2, 120.

_Herr Truels's Döttre_, Danish bal. 2, 277.

_Hertig Fröjdenborg och Fröken Adelin_, Swedish bal. 2, 120.

_Hertig Nils_, Swedish bal. 2, 120.

_Hierarchie of the Blessed Angels._ 1, 163.

_Highwayman Outwitted_, see _Crafty Ploughboy._

_Hildebrand og Hilde_, Danish bal. 2, 115, 388.

_Hilla Lilla_, Swedish bal. 2, 120.

Hireman Chiel. 8, 233.

Hirlanda. 3, 243.

_Histoire de la Comtesse de Savoie._ 3, 242.

_Histoire de Palanus, Comte de Lyon._ 3, 242.

_Historia de Cataluña._ 3, 242.

Hobie Noble. 6, 97, 67.

_Holofernes._ 8, 198.

_Honeymoon._ 8, 182.

_Honour of a London Prentice._ O. B. 1, 199: Ritson, Ancient Songs, 2, 199.

_Horn and Rimnild, Horn et Rimenhild._ 1, 6; 4, 17.

Horn of King Arthur. 1, 17, 4.

_House Carpenter._ 1, 209.

Hugh of Lincoln. 3, 136.

Hughie Graham (Hughie the Graeme). 6, 51, 55, 247.

Hunting of the Cheviot. 7, 25, 43.

[_det_] _Hurtige Svar_, Danish bal. 2, 319.

_Hustru og Mands Moder_, Danish bal. 1, 162.

Hynd Horn. 4, 17, 25.

Hynde Etin. 1, 294, 179; 2, 271.

_I'll wager, I'll wager._ 1, 131.

_Ill May-Day, Story of._ Garl. Good Will, p. 39, P. S. xv: O. B. 3, 54: Evans, 3, 76.

In Sherwood livde stout Robin Hood. 5, 433.

_Ingefred og Gudrune_, Danish bal. 1, 152.

_Jack Horner, Tale of._ Halliwell's Nursery Rhymes, p. 165, P. S. iv. James Herries. 1, 205.

Jamie Douglas. 4, 287.

Jamie Telfer of the Fair Dodhead., 6, 105.

Jane Shore. 7, 194.

_Jean o' Bethelnie's Love for Sir G. Gordon._ 4, 80.

_Jelitza and her Brothers_, Servian bal. 1, 217.

Jellon Grame. 2, 285.

Jephthah, Judge of Israel. 8, 198.

_Jesus Barnet, Stefan, og Herodes_, Danish bal. 1, 315.

Jew's Daughter. 3, 144, 331.

_Jock o' Hazeldean, Jock o' Hazelgreen._ 4, 83.

Jock o' the Side. 6, 80, 67, 88.

_Jock Sheep_ = _Baffled Knight._ _Jock the Leg and the Merry Merchant._ 8, 265.

John Dory. 8, 194.

_John Grumlie._ 8, 116.

John o' Hazelgreen. 4, 83.

_John the Reeve._ 8, 21.

John Thomson and the Turk., 3, 352.

Johnie Armstrang. 6, 37, 45, 251.

_Johnie Blunt._ 8, 125.

Johnie _of Braidisbank_, or of Breadislee. 6, 12, 11.

Johnie of Cocklesmuir, or _of Cockielaw_. 6, 16, 11.

Johnie Cope. 7, 274, 168.

Johnie Faa and the Countess o' Cassilis. 4, 283.

Johnie Scot. 4, 50.

Johny Cock, or _Johny Cox_.

6, 243, 245, 11, 12.

_Jolly Beggar._ 8, 98.

Jolly Goshawk. 3, 285.

_Jolly Harper._ 6, 3.

Jolly Pinder of Wakefield, with Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John. 5, 204.

_Jomfruen i Linden_, Danish bal. 1, 311.

_Jomfruen i Ormeham_, Danish ballad. 1, 138, 168.

_Jomfruen og Dværgekongen_ (_Maid and the Dwarfking_), Danish ballad. 1, 179.

_Jon Rimaardsöns Skriftemaal_, Danish ballad. 3, 47.

Jovial Hunter of Bromsgrove. 8, 144.

_Jugement de Salemon, fabliau._ 8, 158.

_Jürg Drachentödter_, German ballad. 1, 70.

Katharine Janfarie. 4, 29.

_Keach in the Creel._ Anc. Poems, &c. p. 112, P. S. xvii: = _Covering Blue_, Kinloch, B. B., p. 61: = _Cunning Clerk_, Buchan, 1, 278.

Kempion, Kemp Owyne. 1, 137, 143, 281.

Kempy Kaye. 8, 139, 141.

_Kertonha'._ 1, 114.

_Killiecrankie._ 7, 153.

_Kinder-u.-Haus-Märchen._ 1, 201; 2, 231, 272; 8, 3, 5, 173.

_Kindesmörderin_, German ballads. 2, 262.

_King and a Poore Northerne Man._ P. S. vol. i: Moore, p. 376.

_King and the Barker._ 8, 22.

_King Alfred and the Neatherd_, 8, 21; _K. A. and the Shepherd_, 5, 238; 8, 23.

_King and the Hermit._ 8, 21, 22.

_King and the Miller_, Danish tale. 8, 3.

King and the Miller of Mansfield. 8, 32.

King Arthur, and the King of Cornwall, 1, 231, 183; Legend of, 1, 50; K. A.'s Death, 1, 40.

King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid. 4, 195.

_King Edward and Jane Shore._ 7, 194.

_King Edward and the Hermit_, 5, xxiii: _K. E. and the Shepherd_, 5, xxiii; 8, 21.

King Edward the Fourth and the Tanner of Tamworth. 8, 21; 5, xxiv.

_King Edward the Third and the Fair Countess of Salisbury._ O. B. 2, 68.

King Estmere. 3, 159; 1, 183.

King Henrie the Fifth's Conquest. 7, 190.

King Henry. 1, 147, 29: 8, 140.

_King Henry and a Bishop_, 8, 5: _K. H. and the Soldier_, 8, 22.

_King Henry the Eighth and the Cobbler._ 8, 22.

_King Henry the Second and the Cistercian Abbot._ 8, 21.

_King Horn._ 4, 17.

_King James the First and the Tinker._ 8, 22, 23.

King John and the Abbot of Canterbury, 8, 3: _K. J. and the Bishop of Canterbury_, 8, 5.

_King Lear._ 1, 245.

King Leir and his Three Daughters. 7, 276.

King Malcolm and Sir Colvin. 3, 378, 173.

King of France's Daughter. 4, 216.

King of Scots and Andrew Browne. 7, 103.

_King Olfrey and the Abbot._ 8, 5.

King's Disguise and Friendship with Robin Hood. 5, 376.

_King Waldemar and his Sister_, Danish bal. 2, 78, 86.

_King William and the Forester._ 8, 22.

Kinmont Willie. 6, 58, 81.

Knight and Shepherd's Daughter. 3, 260.

_Knight of the Swan._ 3, 159.

Knight's Ghost. 1, 210.

_Kong Diderik og hans K[oe]mper_, Danish ballad. 3, 159.

_Kong Valdemar og hans Söster_, Danish bal. 2, 78, 251.

_Krist' Lilla och Herr Tideman_, Swedish bal. 2, 342.

_Krone der Königin von Afion_. 1, 16: _K. of Heinrich vom Türlein_, 1, 4.

_Ladies of Finsbury, Life and Death of the._ Crown Garland G. Roses, p. 44, P. S. xv; Evans, 3, 318.

Lads of Wamphray. 6, 168.

_Lady Alice._ 2, 162.

Lady Anne. 2, 262.

Lady Anne Bothwell's Lament. 4, 123, 129.

_Lady Daisy._ 2, 382.

Lady Diamond. 2, 382.

Lady Elspat. 4, 308.

Lady Isabel and the Elf-Knight. 1, 195; 2, 271.

Lady Isabella's Tragedy. 3, 366.

_Lady Jane._ 3, 192.

_Lady Jean_ = _Bonny Hynd._

Lady Maisry. 2, 78, 319.

Lady Margaret. 3, 390, 205.

Lady Marjorie. 2, 338.

_Lady's Fall, Lamentable Ballad of._ O. B. 1, 244; Percy, 3, 182; Ritson, Anc. Songs, 2, 110.

_Lai du Corn._ 1, 3.

_Lai le Frein._ 3, 191.

Laidley Worm of Spindleston-Heugh. 1, 281, 137.

_Laird o' Leys_ = _Baron o' Leys_.

Laird o' Logie. 4, 109.

Laird of Blackwood. 4, 290, 135.

Laird of Drum. 4, 118.

_Laird of Laminton._ 4, 29.

_Laird of Lochnie._ 4, 45.

_Laird of Ochiltree._ 4, 45.

_Laird of Roslin's Daughter._ 8, 11.

Laird of Waristoun. 3, 107, 110, 316.

Lambert Linkin. 3, 100, 94.

_Lambton Worm of Durham._ 1, 281.

Lament of the Border Widow. 3, 86; 4, 174.

_Lamentable Fall of the Duchess of Gloucester_. Garl. of Goodwill, p. 271, P. S. xv; O. B. 2, 90.

_Lamentation of Shore's Wife_. 7, 194.

Lamkin, Lammikin. 3, 94, 307.

_Lancelot_. 1, 6.

Lang Johnny Moir. 4, 272.

Lass of Lochroyan. 2, 106.

_Last Guid Night_. 6, 40.

_Lawyer Outwitted_, see _Crafty Lover_.

Lay the Bent to the Bonny Broom. 8, 18.

_Leander on the Bay_. 2, 177.

Leesome Brand. 2, 342.

Lenore, Bürger's. 1, 217.

_Liebesprobe_, Ger. bal. 4, 144.

Life and Death of Sir Hugh of the Grime. 6, 247.

Life and Death of Thomas Stukely. 7, 305.

_Lilla Rosa_, Swedish bal. 2, 120.

[_den_] _Lillas Testamente_, Swedish bal. 2, 366, 251.

_Lind im Thale_, German bal. 4, 144.

_Linden_, Swedish bal. 1, 311.

_Lindormen_, Danish ballad. 1, 138, 168.

_Liten Kerstins Förtrollning_. 1, 162.

_Liten Kerstin och Fru Sofia_, Swedish bal. 2, 78.

_Liten Kerstin Stalldräng_, Swedish bal. 4, 174.

Little Gest of Robin Hood. 5, 42, 18, 376, 383; 8, 22.

_Little Gold Shoe_, Swedish tale. 8, 173.

Little John and the Four Beggars. 5, 325.

Little Musgrave and the Lady Barnard. 2, 15.

Lizae Baillie. 4, 73, 280.

Lizie Lindsay. 4, 63, 68, 73.

_Lizie Wan = Bonny Hynd_.

_Lochinvar_. 4, 29.

Lochmaben Harper. 6, 3, 7.

Long Lonkin. 3, 313, 94.

_Lord Aboyne_. 4, 97.

Lord Barnaby. 2, 307.

_Lord Bateman_. 4, 1, 2.

Lord Beichan and Susie Pye. 4, 253.

Lord Delaware. 7, 313.

Lord Derwentwater. 7, 164: _L. D.'s Goodnight_, 7, 165.

Lord Dingwall. 1, 288, 152.

Lord Donald. 2, 244, 251.

Lord Jamie Douglas. 4, 135, 287.

Lord John. 1, 42, 134.

_Lord John's Murder_. 2, 292.

Lord Livingston. 3, 343; 8, 243.

Lord Lovel. 2, 162, 141.

_Lord Lundy_. 4, 261.

Lord Maxwell's Goodnight. 6, 162.

_Lord Nann and the Korrigan_, Breton bal. 1, 298; 2, 120.

Lord Randal (A), 2, 22: (B), 2, 248, 244.

_Lord Ronald._ 2, 248.

Lord Salton and Auchanachie. 2, 165, 167.

Lord Thomas and Fair Annet. 2, 125, 120, 131.

Lord Thomas and Fair Ellinor. 2, 121.

Lord Thomas of Winesberry and the King's Daughter. 4, 305.

Lord Thomas Stuart. 3, 357.

Lord Wa'yates and Auld Ingram. 2, 326.

Lord William. 3, 18, 3. _Lord William._ 4, 261.

Loudoun Castle. 6, 254.

_Love Gregory._ 2, 98,

_Lover's Complaint being forsaken of his Love._ 4, 234.

Lovers Quarrel. 4, 311.

Lowlands of Holland. 2, 213.

Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode. 5, 42, 18, 376, 383; 8, 22.

_Mackintosh was a soldier brave._ 7, 165.

Macpherson's Rant (or _Lament_), 6, 263: his _Farewell_, by Burns, 6, 266.

_Mädchen und der Sagebaum, Mädchen und die Hasel_, German bal. 1, 311.

_Maid and the Dwarf-King_, Danish ballad. 1, 179.

_Maledizione Materna_, Italian ballad. 2, 171.

_Mantel_, _Mantel Mautaillé_, _Court Mantel_, &c. 1, 3, 4.

_Marchioness of Douglass._ 4, 135.

_Margaret's Ghost._ 2, 141.

_Mari Confesseur_, La Fontaine's. 6, 209.

Marquis of Huntley's Retreat, (or _The Marquis's Raide_). 7, 267, 156.

Marriage of Sir Gawaine. 1, 28, 147.

_Martial._ 2, 177.

Mary Ambree. 7, 108, 257.

Mary Hamilton. 3, 120, 324, 329.

_Maudlin, the Merchant's Daughter._ 4, 328.

_May-a-Row._ 2, 286.

May Colvin. 2, 271; 1, 195, 198.

_Memorables of the Montgomeries._ Evans, 2, 41; Bal. and Songs of Ayrshire, 1, 60.

_Merchant of Venice._ 8, 45, 46, 277.

Merchant's Daughter of Bristow. 4, 328.

_Merchant's Garland_, see _Factor's Garland_.

Mermaid (or Clerk Colvill). 1, 192.

_Merman and Marstig's Daughter_, Danish bal. 1, 298.

_Mery Ballet of the Hathorn Tre._ 1, 311.

_Mild Mary_, see _Fair Mabel of Wallington_.

Miller and the King's Daughter. 2, 357, 231.

Minister's Dochter o' Newark (or _of New York_). 2, 376.

_Möen paa Baalet_, Danish ballad. 2, 251.

_Moral Tale of Love and Honour_, Shenstone's. 4, 202.

_Morte Arthure._ 1, 4, 40, 50, 55.

_Mothers Malison._ 2, 171.

_Moyen de Parvenir._ 5, 187.

Murder of the King of Scots. 7, 78.

_Murning Maidin._ Sibbald, 1, 201.

_Nattergalen_, Danish ballad. 1, 125.

_New Notborune Mayd._ 4, 144.

_No Song, no Supper._ 8, 125.

Noble Fisherman, or, Robin Hood's Preferment. 5, 329.

_Nobleman's Generous Kindness._ Bal. of Peas. p. 148, P. S. xvii: Bell, id. 98.

Nökkens Svig, Danish ballad. 1, 195, 198.

Northern Lass, Brome's. 4, 123.

Northern Lord and Cruel Jew. 8, 277.

Northumberland betrayed by Douglas. 7, 92: 6, 124.

_Numbers._ 1, 6.

Nutbrowne Maide. 4, 143.

_O heard ye e'er of a silly blind Harper._ 6, 3.

_Odyssey_, i. 125.

_Of a Knight and a Faire Virgin._ 1, 29.

_Of Wakefylde and a Grene._ 5, 204.

_Old Abbot and King Alfred._ O. B. 2, 55.

_Old Man and his Three Sons._ 8, 144.

Old Robin of Portingale. 3, 34.

[_den_] _Onde Svigermoder_, Danish bal. 2, 251.

_Orlando Furioso_, 1, 4: _O. Inamorato_, 1, 137.

_Ormekampen_, Danish ballad. 1, 281; 8, 128.

_Our gudeman came home at e'en._ 2, 319.

_Outlandish Knight._ 2, 272.

_Owen of Carron_, Langhorne's. 2, 28.

_Owlglass._ 8, 3.

_Palace of Pleasure_, Painter's. 1, 5.

_Palmerin of England._ 1, 5.

_Patient Countess_, 4, 208; Patient Grissel, 4, 207.

_Patrañuelo_ of Timoneda. 8, 3.

_Pausanias_, a dragon story in. 8, 136.

_Peau d'Ane._ 8, 172.

_Pecorone._ 8, 45.

_Peele's Chronicle Hist. of Ed. I._ 6, 209.

_Pennyworth of Wit._ O. B. 2, 215.

_Perceforest._ 1, 5.

_Perceval._ 1, 4.

_Pfalzgraf am Rhein_, German bal. 2, 79.

_Phaffe Amis._ 8, 3.

_Picture_, Massinger's. 1, 5.

_Pilgrim to Compostella_, Southey's. 1, 315.

_Prince Edward and Adam Gordon._ 5, 149.

Prince Robert. 3, 22; 2, 120.

Pr[oe]lium Gillicrankianum. 7, 251.

Proud Lady Margaret. 8, 83, 11; 2, 319.

_Proud Margaret_, Swedish bal. 1, 179.

Provost's Dochter. 4, 292, 180.

_Pyramus and Thisbe._ 8, 207.

Queen Dido. 8, 207.

Queen Eleanor's Confession. 6, 209, 213; 7, 292.

Queen Eleanor's Fall. 7, 291; 6, 209.

Queen Jeanie. 7, 74, 77.

Queen's Marie. 3, 113.

_Räthsellieder_, German. 8, 12.

Raid of the Reidswire. 6, 129.

Rantin Laddie. 4, 97.

Rare Willy drown'd in Yarrow. 2, 181.

_Rauf Coilzear._ 8, 21.

_Ravengaard og Memering_, Danish bal. 3, 234, 241.

Reading Skirmish. 7, 243.

_Red Etin_, tale of. 1, 245.

Reedisdale and Wise William. 8, 87.

_Ribolt og Guldborg_, Danish bal. 2, 114.

Richie Storie. 8, 255.

_Riddar Olle_, (or _Olof_,) Swedish bal. 1, 152.

_Ridderen i Fugleham_, Danish bal. 1, 171.

Rising in the North. 7, 82; 6, 124.

_Ritter Golmi mit der Herzogin auss Britanien_, Hans Sachs's. 3, 242.

_Ritter St. Georg_, German legend. 1, 70.

_Ritter und das Mägdlein_, German bal. 2, 141.

Rob Roy. 6, 202, 257, 258.

Robene and Makyne. 4, 245.

ROBIN HOOD and Allin-a-Dale. 5, 278.

Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne. 5, 159, 428. Robin Hood and his Huntesmen, song. 5, 434. Robin Hood and Little John. 5, 216. Robin Hood and Maid Marian. 5, 372. Robin Hood and Queen Katherine. 5, 312. Robin Hood and the Beggar. 5, 187, 251, 255, 404, 17. Robin Hood and the Bishop. 5, 298. Robin Hood and the Bishop of Hereford. 5, 294. Robin Hood and the Butcher. 5, 33, 17. Robin Hood and the Curtall Fryer. 5, 271, 420. Robin Hood and the Golden Arrow. 5, 383. Robin Hood and the Monk. 5, 1, 128. Robin Hood and the Old Man. 5, 257. Robin Hood and the Peddlers. 5, 243. Robin Hood and the Potter. 5, 17, 33, 43, 188, 420. Robin Hood and the Ranger. 5, 207. Robin Hood and the Scotchman. 5, 418. Robin Hood and the Shepherd. 5, 238. Robin Hood and the Stranger. 5, 404, 39, 188, 418. Robin Hood and the Tanner. 5, 223. Robin Hood and the Tanner's Daughter. 5, 334. Robin Hood and the Tinker. 5, 230. Robin Hood and the Valiant Knight. 5, 338, 308, 382.

Robin Hood, Birth of. 5, 392, 170. Robin Hood, _Essay on._ 5, vii. Robin Hood, Lytell Geste of. 5, 42. Robin Hood, Playe of. 5, 420, 428. Robin Hood, rescuing the Three Squires. 5, 267. Robin Hood, rescuing the Widow's Three Sons. 5, 261.

Robin Hood's Birth, Breeding, Valour, and Marriage. 5, 343, 125. Robin Hood's Chase. 5, 320. Robin Hood's Death and Burial. 5, 308. Robin Hood's Delight. 5, 211. Robin Hood's Golden Prize. 5, 303. Robin Hood's Preferment. 5, 329. Robin Hood's Progress to Nottingham. 5, 290. Robin Hood's Rescuing Will Stutley. 5, 283.

Robin Hood, True Tale of. 5, 353. Robin Hood, Wedding of, and Little John. 5, 184. Robin Hood, Will Scadlock, and Little John. 5, 409.

Robyn and Gandelyn. 5, 38.

_Robin's Tesment._ 1, 128.

_Röfvaren Brun, R. Rymer_, Swedish bal. 2, 272.

Rookhope Ryde. 6, 121.

_Roman Charity._ O. B. 2, 137; Evans, 3, 296.

_Rosamonds Overthrow_, see _Unfortunate Concubine_.

_Rose, Lay of the._ 1, 5.

Rose the Red and White Lilly. 5, 173, 396.

_Rosmer Hafmand_, Danish bal. 1, 253, 245.

_Sacchetti's Novels._ 8, 3.

Saddle to Rags. 8, 265.

_Salomon and Saturn_ (or _Marcolf_). 8, 3.

Samson. 8, 201.

_St. Cunigund_, legend of. 3, 238.

St. George and the Dragon. 1, 69.

St. Stephen and Herod. 1, 315.

Sang of the Outlaw Murray. 6, 20.

_Schloss in Oesterreich_, German bal. 2, 63.

_Schön Ulrich u. Rautendelein, S. U. u. Roth-Aennchen_, German bal. 2, 272.

_Schöne Hannele_, German bal. 1, 179.

_Scottish Squire._ 3, 277.

Seven Champions of Christendom. 1, 83.

_Shepherd's Son_ = _Baffled Knight_.

_Silva Sermonum Jucundissimorum._ 8, 116.

[_der_] _Singende Knochen_, German tale. 2, 231.

Sir Aldingar. 3, 234.

Sir Andrew Barton. 7, 55, 201.

Sir Cauline. 3, 173.

Sir Eglamore. 8, 196.

Sir Guy, Legend of. 1, 61.

Sir Hugh. 3, 142, 331, 335.

Sir Hugh le Blond. 3, 234, 253.

Sir James the Rose. 3, 73.

Sir John Suckling's Campaign. 7, 128.

Sir Lancelot du Lake. 1, 55.

_Sir Niel and Mac Van_ (or _Glengyle_). 8, 260.

_Sir Olof in the Elve-Dance_, Swedish bal. 1, 298.

Sir Oluf and the Elf-King's Daughter, Danish bal. 1, 298, 192.

Sir Patrick Spens. 3, 147, 152, 338.

_Sir Peter of Stauffenbergh and the Mermaid._ 1, 298.

Sir Richard Whittington's Advancement. 8, 165.

Sir Roland. 1, 223.

_Sir Stig and Lady Torelild_, Danish bal. 1, 162.

_Sir Wal and Lisa Lyle_, Swedish bal. 2, 342.

Sir William Wallace. 6, 237.

_Skj[oe]n Anna_, Danish bal. 3, 383, 192.

_Sleeper Awakened_, tale of. 8, 54.

Snake-Cook, German bal. 2, 364.

Son Davie. 2, 228, 219.

_Song of a Beggar and a King._ 4, 195.

_Sorgens Magt_, Swedish bal. 2, 145; 1, 213.

_Sövnerunerne_, Danish bal. 1, 131.

Spanish Lady's Love. 4, 201.

Spanish Virgin. 3, 360.

_Speculum Ecclesiæ._ 8, 21.

_Speculum Historiale._ 1, 70, 315.

_Squire of Tamworth_, see _Golden Glove_.

_Staffans Visa_, Swedish carol. 1, 315.

_Stepmother_, German bal. 2, 364.

_Stolt Ingeborgs Forklædning_, Danish bal. 4, 174.

_Stolts Botelid Stalldräng_, Swedish bal. 4, 174.

_Stout Cripple of Cornwall._ Evans, 1, 97.

Stukely, Life and Death of Thomas. 7, 305.

_Südeli_, German bal. 3, 191.

Suffolk Miracle. 1, 217.

_Sven i Rosengård_, Swedish bal. 2, 347, 219.

_Sven Svanehvit_, Swedish bal. 8, 12.

_Svend Vonved_, Danish bal. 3, 159; 8, 11.

_Sweet Song of an English Merchant._ Evans, 1, 28.

Sweet William. 4, 261, 29.

Sweet William and May Margaret. 2, 152, 45.

Sweet William's Ghost. 2, 145, 45.

Sweet Willie (a), 2, 93, 86; (b), 4, 174.

Sweet Willie and Fair Annie. 2, 131.

Sweet Willie and Fair Maisry. 2, 332, 86.

Sweet Willie and Lady Margerie. 2, 53.

[_den_] _Talende Strengeleg_, Danish bal. 2, 231.

_Tarikh al Wasaf._ 8, 167.

Tam-a-Line. 1, 258.

Taming of a Shrew. 8, 182, 55.

_Tancred and Ghismonda._ 2, 382.

_Tancrède_, Voltaire's. 3, 242.

_Thom of Lyn._ 1, 114.

Thomas of Ersseldoune. 1, 95, 120, 273.

Thomas the Rhymer. 1, 109, 120.

_Thore och hans Syster_, Swedish bal. 2, 319.

_Thorkil Troneson_, Swedish bal. 1, 152.

_Three Brothers._ 6, 94.

Three Knights. 2, 368.

Three Ravens. 3, 59.

_Three Sisters._ 8, 18.

Tinker's Good Fortune, see Frolicksome Duke.

_Titus and Gisippus._ 4, 225.

Titus Andronicus's Complaint. 8, 188.

_Tobias._ 8, 198.

[_der_] _Todte Freier_, German bal. 2, 145.

_Todtenhemdchen_, German tale. 1, 213.

Tom Linn. 1, 267.

_Tom Thumbe, Life and Death of._ Ritson's Anc. Pop. Poetry, p. 111.

_Too Courteous Knight_ = _Baffled Knight_.

_Tord af Havsgaard_, Danish bal. 8, 139.

_Torkild Trundesön_, Danish and Swedish bal. 1, 152.

_Tristan._ 1, 4, 152; 2, 119.

_Trooper and Fair Maid._ 1, 128.

True Tale of Robin Hood. 5, 353.

Trumpeter of Fyvie. 2, 201.

Turnament of Totenham. 8, 101.

Twa Brothers. 2, 219, 353.

Twa Corbies. 3, 61.

Twa Sisters. 2, 238.

_Tyrannical Husband, Ballad of a._ 8, 116.

_Ulinger_, German bal. 2, 272.

_Ulrich und Aennchen_, German bal. 2, 272.

Undaunted Londonderry. 7, 247.

_Unfortunate Concubine, or, Rosamond's Overthrow._ 7, 284.

Up and war them a' Willie. 7, 264, 156.

_Valentine and Ursine_, tale of. Percy, 3, 330.

_Vendicatrice_, Italian bal. 2, 392.

_Vilain qui conquist Paradis par Plait, fabliau du._ 8, 152.

_Von eitel unmöglichen Dingen_, German ballads. 1, 128.

_Vorwirth._ German bal. 1, 213.

[_die_] _Wahrsagenden Nachtigallen_, Danish bal. 2, 342.

_Wallace and his Leman._ 6, 232.

Waly, waly, but love be bonny. 4, 132.

Wandering Jew. 8, 76.

Wandering Prince of Troy. 8, 207.

_Wandering Young Gentlewoman_, see _Catskin's Garland_.

Wanton Wife of Bath. 8, 152.

_Warenston and the Duke of York's Daughter._ 3, 113.

Water o' Wearie's Well. 1, 198; 2, 271.

_We were Sisters, we were Seven._ 1, 152.

Weary Coble o' Cargill. 3, 30; 2, 216.

Wedding of Robin Hood and Little John. 5, 184.

_Weddynge of Syr Gawen and Dame Ragnell._ 1, 29.

Wee, wee Man. 1, 126, 273; 8, 140.

West Country Damosel's Complaint. 2, 384.

_West Country Wager._ 1, 131.

_Wha will bake my bridal bread._ 3, 191.

_White Doe of Rylstone_, Wordsworth's. 7, 84.

_Widow of Westmoreland._ Kinloch, Bal. Book, p. 1.

_Wiedergefundene Königstochter_, German bal. 3, 191.

_Wife Lapped in Morel's Skin._ 8, 182.

Wife of Auchtirmuchty. 8, 116.

_Wife of Bath's Tale._ 1, 29.

Wife of Usher's Well. 1, 213; 2, 63.

_Wilkinasaga._ 5, 128.

William and Marjorie. 2, 149, 45.

William Guiseman. 3, 50.

_Willie and Annet._ 2, 79, 86.

Willie and Lady Maisry. 2, 57.

Willie and May Margaret. 2, 171.

Willie Mackintosh, or, The Burning of Auchindown. 6, 159.

Willie Wallace. 6, 231, 237.

Willie's drowned in Gamery. 2, 181.

Willie's Ladye. 1, 162.

Willow, Willow, Willow. 4, 234.

_Willy's drowned in Yarrow._ 8, 228.

_Wind hath blown my plaid away._ 1, 277.

Winning of Cales. 7, 123.

_Wolfdietrich._ 2, 346.

Woman Warrior. 7, 257.

_Wood o' Warslin._ 2, 220.

_Worm of Lambton, Worm of Linton._ 1, 281; 8, 128.

_Wylie Wife of the hie Town hie._ Struthers's British Minstrel, 1, xxv.

_Xailoun_, tale of. 8, 54.

_Young Airly._ 6, 184.

Young Akin. 1, 179.

_Young Allan_ (taken from Sir Patrick Spens). Buchan, 2, 11.

Young Bearwell. 4, 302.

Young Beichan and Susie Pye. 4, 1, 253; 1, 282.

Young Bekie. 4, 10.

Young Benjie. 2, 298.

_Young Bondwell._ 4, 2.

Young Child Dyring, Danish bal. 4, 265.

_Young Cloudeslee._ 5, 124.

Young Hastings the Groom. 1, 189; 2, 271.

Young Hunting. 3, 295, 3.

Young Johnstone. 2, 291.

_Young Laird of Ochiltrie._ 4, 109.

_Young Prince James._ 2, 78.

_Young Ratcliffe._ 7, 165.

Young Redin. 3, 13.

Young Tamlane. 1, 114.

Young Waters. 3, 88, 301; 1, 282; 7, 120.

Youth of Rosengord, Swedish bal. 2, 347, 219.

_Zauberbecher, Sage vom._ 1, 4.

_Zeyn Alasman and the King of the Genii_, tale of. 1, 5.

* * * * *

Transcriber's Notes

[Asterism] represents an asterism (three stars). [gh] represents letter "yogh". [Pointing hand] denotes the symbol of a right pointing hand.

Minor changes to regularise ballad line numbering and indentation have been made without comment.

The following changes have been made to the text where typographical errors have been corrected.

Page iv (Index): corrected "Gentleman" to "Gentlewoman" (The Wandering young Gentlewoman)

Page 123 note to line 13: changed "12" to "13" (13. request.)

Page 123 Line 30: changed single to double close quotation mark ("Now lets go to't, my own dear honey:")

Page 133 Line 121: added missing close quotation mark ("Your words," quoth the dragon, "I don't understand";)

Page 144: added closing quotation mark (p. 250 of the same publication.)")

Page 153 Line 11: changed single to double opening qoutation mark ("I am the Wife of Bath," she said,)

Page 157 Line 112: deleted extraneous closing single quotation mark (As thou thyself hast done.")

Page 167 Line 2: changed "Whitttington" to "Whittington" (Of worthy Whittington,)

Page 196: deleted unmatched open quotation marks before "in" (This ballad is found in _The Melancholie Knight_)

Page 261 Line 28: changed single to double closing quotation mark (For you shall find enough o' ane.")

Page 264 Line 100: changed single to double closing quotation mark (He's cure thy wounds right speedily.")

Page 270 Line 32: changed "Que'" to "Quo'" (Quo' the wee boy, &c.)

Page 279 Line 50: added opening quotation mark ("We'll cross the raging ocean wide,)

Page 301: changed "confidentyl" to "confidently" (trestly, _truly_, _confidently_.)

Page 306: changed comma to full stop after "Sheriff-Muir" ([Battle of] Sheriff-Muir. 7, 156, 260.)

Page 308: changed "rown" to "Brown" (_Brown Robin._ 2, 9. Buchan, 2, 299.)

Page 308: added comma after volume number (Constance of Cleveland. 4, 225.)

Page 312: changed full stop to comma after ballad name (_Herr Aester ok Fröken Sissa_, Swedish bal. 1, 152.)

Page 315: changed comma to full stop after ballad name (_Krone der Königin von Afion_. 1, 16)