Part 4

Out spak Lizzie's young handmaid,

A bonny young lassie was she;

Said,--"were I heiress to a kingdom,

Along wi' young Donald I'd gae."

"O say you so to me, Nelly?

O say ye so to me?

Must I leave Edinburgh city,

To the high Highland to gae?"

Out spak Lizzie's own mother,

A good old lady was she,

"If ye speak sic a word to my daughter,

I'll gar hang ye high."

"Keep weel your daughter frae me, madam;

Keep weel your daughter frae me;

I care as little for your daughter,

As ye can care for me."

The road grew wetty and dubby;

And Lizzie began to think lang;

Said, "I wish I had stayed with my mother,

And na wi' young Donald had gone."

"Yere welcome hame, Sir Donald;

Yere welcome hame to me;

Yere welcome hame, Sir Donald,

And your bonny young lady wi' ye."

"Ye call na me Sir Donald,

But ca me Donald your son."

"Rise up, Lizzie Lindsay,

You have lain too long in the day;

You might have helped my mother

To milk her goats and her kye."

Out it spake Lizzie Lindsay,

The tear blinket her eye;

"The ladies o' Edinburgh city

They neither milk goats nor kye."

(_dubby_, full of puddles.)

THE BIRTH OF ROBIN HOOD

|O Willys large o' limb and lith,

And come o' high degree,

And he is gone to Earl Richard

To serve for meat and fee.

Earl Richard had but ae daughter,

Fair as a lily flower;

And they made up their love-contract

Like proper paramour.

It fell upon a simmer's night,

When the leaves were fair and green,

That Willy met his gay lady,

Intill the wood alane.

"O narrow is my gown, Willy,

That wont to be sae wide;

And gane is a' my fair colour,

That wont to be my pride.

"But gin my father should get word

What's past between us twa,

Before that he should eat or drink,

He'd hang you o'er that wa'.

(_lith_, joint.)

"But ye'll come to my bower, Willy,

Just as the sun goes down;

And keep me in your arms twa,

And latna me fa' down."

O when the sun was now gane down,

He's doen him till her bower;

And there, by the lee light o' the moon,

Her window she lookit o'er.

Intill a robe o' red scarlet

She lap, fearless o' harm;

And Willy was large o' lith and limb,

And keepit her in his arm.

And they've gane to the gude green-wood,

And ere the night was deen,

She's borne to him a bonny young son,

Amang the leaves sae green.

Whan night was gane, and day was come,

And the sun began to peep,

Up and raise the Earl Richard

Out o' his drowsy sleep.

He's ca'd upon his merry young men,

By ane, by twa, and by three,

"O what's come o' my daughter dear,

That she's na come to me?

(_lee_, sad. _deen_, done.)

"I dreamt a dreary dream last night,

God grant it come to gude!

I dreamt I saw my daughter dear,

Drown in the saut sea flood.

"But gin my daughter be dead or sick,

Or yet be stown awa,

I mak a vow, and I'll keep it true,

I'll hang ye ane and a!"

They sought her back, they sought her fore,

They sought her up and down;

They got her in the gude green wood,

Nursing her bonny young son.

He took the bonny boy in his arms,

And kissed him tenderly;

Says, "Though I would your father hang,

Your mother's dear to me."

He kissed him oer and o'er again;

"My grandson I thee claim;

And Robin Hood in gude green wood,

And that shall be your name."

And mony ane sings o' grass, o' grass,

And mony ane sings o' corn;

And mony ane sings o' Robin Hood,

Kens little where he was born.

It was na in the ha', the ha',

Nor in the painted bower;

But it was in the gude green wood,

Amang the lily flower.

THE BARON OF BRACKLEY

|Down Dee side came Inverey whistling and playing;

He's lighted at Brackley yates at the day dawing.

Says, "Baron o' Brackley, O are ye within?

There's sharp swords at the y ate will gar your blood spin."

The lady raise up, to the window she went;

She heard her kye lowing o'er hill and o'er bent.

"O rise up, ye baron, and turn back your kye;

For the lads o' Drumwharran are driving them

by."

"How can I rise, lady, or turn them again!

Where'er I have ae man, I wot they hae ten."

"Then rise up, my lasses, take rocks in your hand,

And turn back the kye;--I hae you at command.

(_bent_, plain. _rocks_, distaffs.)

"Gin I had a husband, as I hae nane,

He wadna lie in his bower, see his kye ta en."

-

Then up got the baron, and cried for his graith;

Says, "Lady, I'll gang, tho' to leave you I'm laith.

"Come, kiss me,then,Peggy,and gieme my spear;

I ay was for peace, though I never fear'd weir.

"Come, kiss me, then, Peggy, nor think I'm to

blame;

I weel may gae out, but I'll never win in!"

When Brackley was busked, and rade o'er the closs,

A gallanter baron ne'er lap to a horse.

When Brackley was mounted, and rade o'er the green,

He was as bold a baron as ever was seen.

Tho' there cam' wi' Inverey thirty and three,

There was nane wi' bonny Brackley but his brother and he.

Twa gallanter Gordons did never sword draw;

But against four and thirty, wae's me, what is twa?

Wi' swords and wi' daggers they did him surround;

And they've pierced bonny Brackley wi' mony a wound.

(_graith,_ armour. _weir-_, war. _busked_, dressed. _closs_, close.)

Frae the head o' the Dee to the banks o' the Spey

The Gordons may mourn him, and bann Inverey.

"O came ye by Brackley yates, was ye in there?

Or saw ye his Peggy dear riving her hair?"

"O I came by Brackley yates, I was in there,

And I saw his Peggy a-making good cheer."

That lady she feasted them, carried them ben;

She laugh'd wi' the men that her baron had slain.

"O fie on you, lady! how could you do sae?

You open'd your gates to the fause Inverey."

She ate wi' him, drank wi' him, welcom'd him in;

She welcom'd the villain that slew her baron!

She kept him till morning, syne bade him be gane,

And shaw'd him the road that he shou'dna be ta'en.

"Thro' Birss and Aboyne," she says, "lyin in a tour,

O'er the hills o' Glentanar you'll skip in an hour."

--There's grief in the kitchen, and mirth in the ha';

But the Baron o' Brackley is dead and awa.

CHILD VYET

|Lord Ingram and Child Vyet,

Were both born in ane bower,

Had both their loves on one Lady,

The less was their honour.

Child Vyet and Lord Ingram,

Were both born in one hall,

Had both their loves on one Lady,

The worse did them befall.

Lord Ingram woo'd the Lady Maisry,

From father and from mother;

Lord Ingram woo'd the Lady Maisry,

From sister and from brother.

Lord Ingram wooed the Lady Maisry,

With leave of all her kin;

And every one gave full consent,

But she said no, to him.

Lord Ingram wooed the Lady Maisry,

Into her father's ha';

Child Vyet wooed the Lady Maisry,

Amang the sheets so sma'.

Now it fell out upon a day,

She was dressing her head,

That ben did come her father dear,

Wearing the gold so red.

"Get up now, Lady Maisry,

Put on your wedding gown,

For Lord Ingram will be here,

Your wedding must be done!"

"I'd rather be Child Vyet's wife,

The white fish to sell,

Before I were Lord Ingram's wife,

To wear the silk so well!

"I'd rather be Child Vyet's wife,

With him to beg my bread,

Before I'd be Lord Ingram's wife,

To wear the gold so red.

"Where will I get a bonny boy,

Will win gold to his fee,

Will run unto Child Vyet's,

With this letter from me?"

"O here, I am the boy," says one,

"Will win gold to my fee,

And carry away any letter,

To Child Vyet from thee."

(_ben_, in.)

And when he found the bridges broke,

He bent his bow and swam;

And when he found the grass growing,

He hasten'd and he ran.

And when he came to Vyet's castle,

He did not knock nor call,

But set his bent bow to his breast,

And lightly leaped the wall;

And ere the porter open'd the gate,

The boy was in the hall.

The first line that Child Vyet read,

A grieved man was he;

The next line that he looked on,

A tear blinded his e'e.

"What ails my own brother," he says,

"He'll not let my love be;

But I'll send to my brother's bridal;

The woman shall be free.

"Take four and twenty bucks and ewes,

And ten tun of the wine,

And bid my love be blithe and glad,

And I will follow syne."

There was not a groom about that castle,

But got a gown of green;

Child Vyet s'

109

And a' was blithe, and a was glad,

But Lady Maisry was wi' wean.

There was no cook about the kitchen,

But got a gown of gray;

And a' was blythe, and a was glad,

But Lady Maisry was wae.

'Tween Mary Kirk and that castle,

Was all spread o'er with [garl].

To keep the lady and her maidens,

From tramping on the [marl].

From Mary Kirk to that castle,

Was spread a cloth of gold,

To keep the lady and her maidens,

From treading on the mould.

When mass was sung, and bells were rung,

And all men bound for bed,

Then Lord Ingram and Lady Maisry,

In one bed they were laid.

When they were laid upon their bed,

It was baith soft and warm,

He laid his hand over her side,

Says he, "you are with bairn."

(_wean_, child. _garl_, gravel, _marl_, mould.)

"I told you once, so did I twice,

When ye came as my wooer,

That Child Vyet, your one brother,

One night lay in my bower!"

"I told you twice, so did I thrice,

Ere ye came me to wed,

That Child Vyet, your one brother,

One night lay in my bed!"

"O will you father your bairn on me,

And on no other man?

And I'll gie him to his dowry,

Full fifty ploughs of land."

"I will not father my bairn on you,

Nor on no wrongous man,

Tho' you would give him to his dowry,

Five thousand ploughs of land."

Then up did start him Child Vyet,

Shed by his yellow hair,

And gave Lord Ingram to the heart,

A deep wound and a sair.

Then up did start him Lord Ingram,

Shed by his yellow hair,

And gave Child Vyet to the heart,

A deep wound and a sair.

(_shed by,_ put back.)

There was no pity for the two lords,

Where they were lying slain,

All was for Lady Maisry:

In that bower she gaed brain!

There was no pity for the two lords,

When they were lying dead,

All was for Lady Maisry:

In that bower she went mad!

"O get to me a cloak of cloth,

A staff of good hard tree;

If I have been an evil woman,

I shall beg till I die.

"For ae bit I'll beg for Child Vyet,

For Lord Ingram I'll beg three,

All for the honourable marriage, that

At Mary Kirk he gave me!"

(_brain_, mad. _tree_, wood.)

ROBIN HOOD AND THE MONK

|In summer when the shaws be sheen,

And leaves be large and long,

It is full merry in fair forest

To hear the fowlés song.

To see the deer draw to the dale,

And leave the hillés high,

And shadow them in the leaves green,

Under the green-wood tree.

It befell on Whitsuntide,

Early in a May morning,

The sun up fair can shine,

And the birdés merry can sing.

(_shaws_, wood. _sheen_, bright.)

"This is a merry morning," said Little John,

"By Him that died on tree;

A more merry man then I am one

Lives not in Christianté."

"Pluck up thy heart, my dear master,"

Little John can say,

"And think it is a full fair time

In a morning of May."

"The one thing grieves me," said Robin,

"And does my heart much woe,

That I may not so solemn day

To mass nor matins go.

"It is a fortnight and more," said he,

"Since I my Saviour see;

To-day will I to Nottingham," said Robin,

"With the might of mild Mary."

Then spake Much the miller son,

Ever more well him betide,

"Take twelve of thy wight yeomen

Well weaponed by thy side.

Such one would thyself slon

That twelve dare not abide."

(_slon_, slay.)

"Of all my merry men," said Robin,

"By my faith I will none have;

But Little John shall bear my bow

Till that me list to draw."

"Thou shall bear thine own," said Little John,

"Master, and I will bear mine;

And we will shoot a penny," said Little John,

"Under the green wood line."

"I will not shoot a penny," said Robin Hood,

"In faith, Little John, with thee,

But ever for one as thou shoots," said Robin,

"In faith I hold thee three."

Thus shot they forth, these yeomen two,

Both at busk and broom,

Till Little John won of his master

Five shillings to hose and shoon.

A ferly strife fell them between.

As they went by the way;

Little John said he had won five shillings,

And Robin Hood said shortly nay.

(_line_, tree. _busk_, bush. _ferly_, wonderful.)

With that Robin Hood lied little John,

And smote him with his hand;

Little John waxed wroth therewith,

And pulled out his bright brand.

"Were thou not my master," said little John,

"Thou shouldest be hit full sore;

Get thee a man where thou wilt, Robin,

For thou gets me no more."

Then Robin goes to Nottingham,

Himself morning alone,

And Little John to merry Sherwood,

The paths he knew ilkone.

When Robin came to Nottingham,

Certainly withouten lain,

He prayed to God and mild Mary

To bring him out safe again.

He goes into saint Mary church,

And kneeled down before the rood;

All that ever were the church within

Beheld well Robin Hood.

Beside him stood a great-headed monk,

I pray to God woe he be;

Full soon he knew good Robin

As soon as he him see.

(_ilkone_, each one. _lain_, hindrance (?))

Out at the door he ran

Full soon and anon;

All the gates of Nottingham

He made to be sparred everyone.

"Rise up,' he said, "thou proud sheriff,

Busk thee and make thee boun;

I have spied the king's felon,

Forsooth he is in this town.

"I have spied the false felon,

As he stands at his mass;

It is long of thee," said the monk,

"An ever he fro us pass.

"This traitor's name is Robin Hood;

Under the green wood lind,

He robbed me once of a hundred pound,

It shall never out of my mind."

Up then rose this proud sheriff,

And radly made him yare;

Many was the mother son

To the kirk with him can fare.

In at the door they throly thrast

With staves full God wone.

"Alas, alas," said Robin Hood,

"Now miss I Little John."

(_sparred_, shut. _boun_, ready. _lind_, tree. _radly_, quickly. _yaref_ ready. _throly_, boldly. _thrast_, pressed. _ivone_, knows.)

But Robin took out a two-hand sword

That hanged down by his knee;

There as the sheriff and his men stood thickest,

Thitherward would he.

Thrice throughout them he ran,

Forsooth as I you say,

And wounded many a mother's son,

And twelve he slew that day.

His sword upon the sheriff's head

Certainly he brake in two;

"The smith that thee made," said Robin,

"I pray to God work him woe.

"For now am I weaponless," said Robin,

"Alas, against my will;

But if I may flee these traitors fro,

I wot they will me kill."

Robin in to the church ran,

Throughout them everyone;

*****

Some fell in swooning as they were dead,

And lay still as any stone.

None of them were in their mind

But only Little John.

"Let be your [dule],'' said Little John,

"For His love that died on tree;

Ye that should be doughty men,

It is great shame to see.

"Our master has been hard bestood,

And yet scaped away;

Pluck up your hearts and leave this moan,

And hearken what I shall say.

"He has served Our Lady many a day,

And yet will securely;

Therefore I trust in her specially

No wicked death shall he die.

"Therefore be glad," said Little John,

"And let this mourning be,

And I shall be the monk's guide,

With the might of mild Mary.

"We will go but we two

And I meet him," said Little John,

*****

"Look that ye keep well our tristil tree

Under the leaves small,

And spare none of this venison

That goes in this vale."

(_dule_, weeping. _tristil_, trysting.

Forth then went these yeomen two,

Little John and Much infere,

And looked on Much emy's house

The highway lay full near.

Little John stood at a window in the morning,

And looked forth at a stage;

He was ware where the monk came riding,

And with him a little page.

"By my faith," said Little John to Much,

"I can thee tell tidings good,

I see where the monk comes riding,

I know him by his wide hood."

They went into the way these yeomen both,

As courteous men and hende,

They speered tidings at the monk,

As they had been his friend.

"Fro whence come ye," said Little John;

"Tell us tidings, I you pray,

Of a false outlaw [called Robin Rood],

Was taken yesterday.

"He robbed me and my fellows both

Of twenty mark in certain.

If that false outlaw be taken,

Forsooth we would be fain."

(_infere_, together. _emys_, uncle's. _hende_, gentle.)

"So did he me," said the monk,

"Of a hundred pound and more;

I laid first hand him upon,

Ye may thank me therefore."

"I pray God thank you," said Little John,

"And we will when we may;

We will go with you, with your leave,

And bring you on your way.

"For Robin Hood has many a wild fellow,

I tell you in certain;

If they wist ye rode this way,

In faith ye should be slain."

As they went talking by the way,

The monk and Little John,

John took the monk's horse by the head

Full soon and anon.

John took the monk's horse by the head,

Forsooth as I you say,

So did Much the little page,

For he should not stir away.

By the gullet of the hood

John pulled the monk down;

John was nothing of him aghast,

He let him fall on his crown.

Little John was sore aggrieved,

And drew out his sword in high;

The monk saw he should be dead,

Lord mercy can he cry.

"He was my master," said Little John,

"That thou has brought in bale;

Shall thou never come at our king

For to tell him tale."

John smote off the monk's head,

No longer would he dwell;

So did Much the little page,

For fear lest he would tell.

There they buried them both

In neither moss nor ling,

And Little John and Much infere

Bare the letters to our king.

*****

He kneeled down upon his knee,

"God you save, my liege lord,

"Jesus you save and see.

"God you save, my liege king,"

To speak John was full bold;

He gave him the letters in his hand,

The king did it unfold.

(_bale_, trouble.)

The king read the letters anon,

And said, "so mot I thee,

There was never yeoman in merry England

I longed so sore to see.

"Where is the monk that these should have brought?"

Our king gan say;

"By my troth," said Little John,

"He died after the way."

The king gave Much and Little John

Twenty pound in certain,

And made them yeomen of the crown,

And bade them go again.

He gave John the seal in hand,

The sheriff for to bear,

To bring Robin him to,

And no man do him dere.

John took his leave at our king,

The sooth as I you say;

The next way to Nottingham

To take he yede the way.

When John came to Nottingham

The gates were sparred each one;

John called up the porter,

He answered soon anon.

(_dere,_ harm. _yede_, went.)

"What is the cause," said Little John,

"Thou sparrest the gates so fast?"

"Because of Robin Hood," said [the] porter,

In deep prison is cast.

"John, and Much, and Will Scathlock,

Forsooth as I you say,

There slew our men upon our walls,

And sawten us every day."

Little John speered after the sheriff,

And soon he him found;

He opened the king's privy seal,

And gave him in his hand.

When the sheriff saw the king's seal,

He did off his hood anon;

"Where is the monk that bare the letters?"

He said to Little John.

"He is so fain of him," said Little John,

"Forsooth as I you say,

He has made him abbot of Westminster,

A lord of that abbey."

The sheriff made John good cheer,

And gave him wine of the best;

At night they went to their bed,

And every man to his rest.

(_sawten,_ sought.)

When the sheriff was on sleep

Drunken of wine and ale,

Little John and Much forsooth

Took the way into the jail.

Little John called up the jailor,

And bade him rise anon;

He said Robin Hood had broken prison,

And out of it was gone.

The porter rose anon certain,

As soon as he heard John call;

Little John was ready with a sword,

And bare him to the wall.

"Now will I be porter," said Little John,

"And take the keys in hand;"

He took the way to Robin Hood,

And soon he him unbound.

He gave him a good sword in his hand,

His head therewith for to keep,

And there as the wall was lowest

Anon down can they leap.

By that the cock began to crow,

The day began to spring,

The sheriff found the jailor dead,

The coming bell made he ring.

He made a cry throughout all the tow[n],

Whether he be yeoman or knave,

That could bring him Robin Hood,

His warison he should have.

"For I dare never," said the sheriff,

"Come before our king,

For if I do, I wot certain,

Forsooth he will me hang."

The sheriff made to seek Nottingham,

Both by street and stye,

And Robin was in merry Sherwood

As list as leaf on lind.

Then bespake good Little John,

To Robin Hood can he say,

"I have done thee a good turn for an evil,

Quit thee when thou may.

"I have done thee a good turn,"said Littlejohn,

"Forsooth as I you say;

I have brought thee under green wood lind;

Farewell, and have good day."

"Nay, by my troth," said Robin Hood,

"So shall it never be;

I make thee master," said Robin Hood,

"Of all my men and me."

(_warison,_ reward. _stye_, lane. _list_, pleased.)

"Nay, by my troth," said Little John,

"So shall it never be,

But let me be a fellow," said Little John,

"None other kepe I'll be."

Thus John got Robin Hood out of prison,

Certain withouten lain;

When his men saw him whole and sound,

Forsooth they were full fain.

They filled in wine, and made them glad,

Under the leaves small,

And eat pasties of venison,

That good was with ale.

Then word came to our king,

How Robin Hood was gone,

And how the sheriff of Nottingham

Durst never look him upon.

Then bespake our comely king,

In an anger high,

"Little John has beguiled the sheriff,

In faith so has he me,

"Little John has beguiled us both,

And that full well I see,

Or else the sheriff of Nottingham

High hanged should he be.

(_kepe I'll be_, relations I'll have. _lain_, deception.)

"I made them yeomen of the crown,

And gave them fee with my hand,

I gave them grith," said our king,

Throughout all merry England.

"I gave them grith," then said our king,

"I say, so might I thee,

Forsooth such a yeoman as he is one

In all England are not three.

"He is true to his master," said our king,

"I say, by sweet Saint John;

He loves better Robin Hood,

Then he does us each one.

"Robin Hood is ever bound to him,

Both in street and stall;

Speak no more of this matter," said our king,

"But John has beguiled us all."

Thus ends the talking of the monk

And Robin Hood i-wis;

God, that is ever a crowned king,

Bring us all to his bliss.

(_grith_, protection.)

THE BONNY HOUSE O' AIRLY

|It fell on a day, and a bonny summer day,

When the corn grew green and yellow,

That there fell out a great dispute,

Between Argyle and Airly.

The Duke o' Montrose has written to Argyle

To come in the morning early,

An' lead in his men, by the back o' Dunkeld,

To plunder the bonny house o' Airly.

The lady look'd o er her window sae high,

And O but she looked weary!

And there she espied the great Argyle

Come to plunder the bonny house o' Airly.

"Come down, come down, Lady Margaret," he says,

"Come down, and kiss me fairly,

Or before the morning clear daylight,

I'll no leave a standing stane in Airly.

"I wadna kiss thee, great Argyle,

I wadna kiss thee fairly,

I wadna kiss thee, great Argyle,

Gin you shouldna leave a standing stane in

Airly.

He has ta en her by the middle sae sma',

Says, "Lady, where is your drury?"

"It's up and down by the bonny burn side,

Amang the planting o' Airly."

They sought it up, they sought it down,

They sought it late and early,

And found it in the bonny balm-tree,

That shines on the bowling-green o' Airly.

He has ta'en her by the left shoulder,

And O but she grat sairly,

And led her down to yon green bank,

Till they plundered the bonny house o' Airly.

"But gin my good lord had been at hame,

As this night he is wi' Charlie,

There durst na a Campbell in a' the west

Hae plundered the bonny house o' Airly.

"O it's I hae seven braw sons," she says,

"And the youngest ne'er saw his daddy,

And altho' I had as mony mae,

I wad gie them a' to Charlie."

(_drury_, dowry. _grat_,wept.)

BONNY JAMES CAMPBELL

|O its up in the Hielands,