Appendix

Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 15.

1 It fell about the gude Yule time, When caps and stoups gaed roun, Down it came him Young Waters, To welcome James, our king.

2 The great, the great, rade a' together, The sma came a' behin, But wi Young Waters, that brave knight, There came a gay gatherin.

3 The horse Young Waters rade upon, It cost him hunders nine; For he was siller-shod before, And gowd-graith had behin.

4 At ilka tippit o his horse mane There hang a siller bell; The wind was loud, the steed was proud, And they gae a sindry knell.

5 The king he lay ower's castle-wa, Beheld baith dale and down, And he beheld him Young Waters, Come riding to the town.

6 He turnd him right and round about, And to the queen said he, Who is the bravest man, my dame, That ever your een did see?

7 'I've seen lairds, and I've seen lords, And knights o high degree, But a braver man than Young Waters My een did never see.'

8 He turnd him right and roun about, And ane angry man was he: 'O wae to you, my dame, the queen, Ye might hae excepted me!'

9 'Ye are nae laird, ye are nae lord, Ye are the king that wears the crown; There's nae a lord in fair Scotland But unto you maun a' bow down.'

10 'O lady, for your love-choicing, Ye shall win to your will; The morn, or I eat or drink, Young Waters I'll gar kill.'

11 'And nevertheless,' the king coud say, 'Ye might hae excepted me; Yea for yea,' the king coud say, 'Young Waters he shall die.

12 'Likewise for your ill-wyled words, Ye sall hae cause to mourn; Gin ye hadna been sae big wi child, Ye on a hill sud burn.'

13 Young Waters came before the king, Fell low down on his knee: 'Win up, win up, Young Waters, What 's this I hear o thee?'

14 'What ails the king at me,' he said, 'What ails the king at me?' 'It is tauld me the day, sir knight, Ye 've done me treasonie.'

15 'Liars will lie on fell gude men, Sae will they do on me; I wudna wish to be the man That liars on wudna lie.'

16 'Nevertheless,' the king coud say, 'In prison strang gang ye; O yea for yea,' the king coud say, 'Young Waters, ye shall die.'

17 Syne they hae taen him Young Waters, Laid him in prison strang, And left him there wi fetters boun, Making a heavy mane.

18 'Aft hae I ridden thro Striveling town Thro heavy wind and weet; But neer rade I thro Striveling town Wi fetters on my feet.

19 'Aft hae I ridden thro Striveling town Thro heavy wind and rain; But neer rade I thro Striveling town But thought to ridden't again.'

20 They brought him to the heading-hill, His horse bot and his saddle; And they brought to the heading-hill His young son in his cradle.

21 And they brought to the heading-hill His hounds intill a leish; And they brought till the heading-hill His gos-hawk in a jess.

22 King James he then rade up the hill, And mony a man him wi, And called on his trusty page To come right speedilie.

23 'Ye'll do ye to the Earl o Mar, For he sits on yon hill; Bid him to loose the brand frae his bodie, Young Waters for to kill.'

24 'O gude forbid,' the Earl he said, 'The like sud eer fa me, My bodie eer sud wear the brand That gars Young Waters die.'

25 Then he has loosd his trusty brand And casten't in the sea; Says, Never lat them get a brand Till it come back to me.

26 The scaffold it prepared was, And he did mount it hie, And a' spectators that were there, The saut tears blint their ee.

27 'O had your tongues, my brethren dear, And mourn nae mair for me; Ye're seeking grace frae a graceless face, For there is nane to gie.

28 'Ye'll tak a bit o canvas claith And pit it ower my ee; And Jack, my man, ye'll be at hand The hour that I sud die.

29 'Syne aff ye'll tak my bluidy sark, Gie it fair Margaret Grahame; For she may curse the dowie dell That brought King James him hame.

30 'Ye'll bid her mak her bed narrow, And mak it naeways wide; For a brawer man than Young Waters Will neer streek by her side.

31 'Bid her do weel to my young son, And gie him nurses three; For gin he live to be a man, King James will gar him die.'

32 He calld upon the headsman, then, A purse o gowd him gae; Says, Do your office, headsman, boy, And mak nae mair delay.

33 O head me soon, O head me clean, And pit me out o pine; For it is by the king's command; Gang head me till his min.

34 Tho by him I'm condemnd to die, I'm lieve to his ain kin; And for the truth, I'll plainly tell, I am his sister's son.

35 'Gin ye're my sister's son,' he said, 'It is unkent to me;' 'O mindna ye on your sister Bess, That lives in the French countrie?'

36 'Gin Bess then be your mither dear, As I trust well she be, Gae hame, gae hame, Young Waters, Ye'se neer be slain by me.'

37 But he lay by his napkin fine, Was saft as ony silk, And on the block he laid his neck, Was whiter than the milk.

38 Says, Strike the blow, ye headsman, boy, And that right speedilie; It's never be said, Here gaes a knight Was ance condemnd to die.

39 The head was taen frae Young Waters, And mony tears for him shed; But mair did mourn for fair Margaret, As raving she lyes mad.

[153] #D#, which is made up from the three others, is translated by Prior, II, 160, No 65.

THE MAID FREED FROM THE GALLOWS

#A.# Communicated to Bishop Percy, 1770.

#B.# 'The Broom o the Cathery Knowes,' Motherwell's MS., p. 290.

#C.# Notes and Queries, Sixth Series, VII, 275, 1883.

#D.# Skene MSS, p. 61, stanzas 19-24: 1802-03.

#E.# 'Lady Maisry,' Buchan's MSS, II, 186; 'Warenston and the Duke of York's Daughter,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 190, stanzas 16-22.

#F.# Notes and Queries, Sixth Series, VI, 476, 1882.

#G. a.# 'The Golden Key,' Notes and Queries, Sixth Series, VI, 415. #b.# The same, p. 269.

#H.# 'The Golden Ball.' #a.# Baring-Gould's Appendix to Henderson's Notes on the Folk Lore of the Northern Counties of England and the Borders, 1866, p. 333. #b.# Notes and Queries, Sixth Series, X, 354, 1884.

#D#, #E# form the conclusion of a ballad which belongs to the series of 'Mary Hamilton,' or 'The Queen's Mary,' and give an entirely wrong turn to that distressful tragedy.

#F# had become a children's game, the last stage of many old ballads: see the notes. In #G# and #H# the verses are set in a popular tale, and a characteristic explanation is furnished of the danger which the heroine has incurred: she has lost a golden key, or a golden ball, which had been entrusted to her. See, again, the notes.

All the English versions are defective and distorted, as comparison will show. In many others, both from northern and southern Europe, a young woman has fallen into the hands of corsairs; father, mother, brother, sister, refuse to pay ransom, but her lover, in one case husband, stickles at no price which may be necessary to retrieve her.

We will begin with the best ballad of the cycle, the #Sicilian# 'Scibilia Nobili,' communicated to Nuove Effemeridi Siciliane, Nuova Serie, I, 528, 1874, by Salvatore Struppa, as sung by a peasant woman in the neighborhood of Marsala, 151 verses.[154] Tunisian corsairs, learning of the marriage of the king's daughter, fit out a strong force, and when they are near port change caps, to pass for Christians. They knock at Scibilia's door, and, on her refusing to open, her husband being a-hunting, burst the door in, and carry her on board ship. Her husband goes to the shore weeping, and offers her captors her weight in gold; they will not give her up for a shipful. He begs to be allowed a word with her: why has she let herself be carried off, and who will nurse her boy? She refuses to eat, drink, or sleep. The sailors fall asleep, and Scibilia drops into the sea. They take silk ladders to recover her; she weeps always. (It would be superfluous to do more than point to the fact that the story is not well compacted, or altogether rational, as we have it.) The lady, turning to a sailor, says, Can you tell me how the wind is? If north or south, I will go to my father. No opposition is made by the pirates, who had but just now refused a shipful of gold for her. "My dear father, will you ransom me?" "For how much, my dear daughter?" "Three lions, three falcons, and four pillars of gold." "I cannot lose so much money: how much better lose you!" She is urged by her captors to eat and drink, but will not eat, drink, or sleep, for her boy is starving. She again makes for the coast, weeping ever, and the foregoing scene, from the inquiry as to the wind, is repeated with mother, brother, sister. All say it is better to lose her than so much money. She finally tries her husband, who answers, Better lose all this gold; it is enough if you are not lost. And after three days the father died. "And let him die; I will dress all in red." And after three days the mother died. "And let her die; I will dress all in yellow." And after three days the brother died. "And let him die; I will dress all in green." And after three days the sister died. "And let her die; I will dress all in white. And if my dear husband dies, I will dress in black."

#Spanish.# #A. a#, 'La Donzella,' Die Balearen in Wort und Bild geschildert, II, 263 (privately printed by the Archduke Ludwig Salvator, Leipzig, 1871, a book which I have not been able to obtain), Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, p. 231; #b#, Briz, Cansons de la Terra, IV, 15, from a Majorcan revista. #B.# 'Lo Rescat,' Briz, IV, 13. #C.# 'La Cautiva,' Milá, Romancerillo, p. 257, No 261. In #A# a maid, who is embroidering a handkerchief by the seashore, lacking silk, hails a vessel, and asks if they have any. She is invited to come aboard and see if they have what she requires. She falls asleep, and the sailors put off. This beginning is like that of another very common ballad. The maid is wakened by the singing of the sailors, and asks them to put into the port where her father is. What follows corresponds to the English ballad. "Father, will you ransom me? The Moors offer me for sale." "Dear daughter, how much do they ask?" "I am yours for a hundred crowns." "Daughter, I will not pay a penny for you." The scene is repeated with mother, brother, and sister, all of whom make the same answer as the father, and then with the lover; but his reply is, I would not give you up for all the world.

The first five stanzas of #A# are wanting in #B#, which begins, accordingly, at the point where the maid asks to have the ship put about. The sister is omitted in #B#, as also in #A b#. #C# is shortened still further, beginning with the appeal to the father, and omitting both sister and brother.

#Färöe.# 'Frísa Vísa,' communicated by Hammershaimb, with other ballads, to the Antiquarisk Tidsskrift, 1849-51, p. 95. Frisian pirates are carrying away a maid. She weeps and beats her hands, and cries, Wait, my father will ransom me; he will ransom me with his castles; he will not let me perish in Friesland. The father answers, I have only two castles; neither of them can I give up for thee; indeed thou mayst perish in Friesland. The Frisians are starting off again. The maid begs them to stop; her mother will redeem her with her kirtles. But the mother says, I have but two kirtles, and neither of them can I give up for thee; indeed thou mayst perish in Friesland. Once more the Frisians are about to put off. The maid says her lover will redeem her with his ships. The lover loyally responds, I have only two ships; both will I gladly part with for thee; thou shalt not perish in Friesland. It appears from a note of Hammershaimb that the ballad might be extended indefinitely by the maid's calling upon brother, sister, and friends to redeem her with their respective valuables.[155]

#Icelandic.# A ballad briefly mentioned at p. 20 f of the volume of the Antiquarisk Tidsskrift, before cited. The Frisians call out, Bear the Danish maid to the ships! 'Bide, Frisians, bide; my kinsfolk will redeem me.' Upon the sixth appeal, to her lover, the maid is ransomed.

#Swedish.# 'Den Bortsålda,' the same ballad as the Färöe and the Icelandic, with an absurd introductory stanza, in which the maid is said to have been sold into the heathen land by her parents for a bit of bread; whence the title. #A. a#, Afzelius, No 15, I, 73;[156] #b#, Hofberg, Nerikes Gamla Minnen, p. 256, No 5. #B.# Afzelius, I, 134. #C.# Rancken, Några prof af folksång, p. 6, No 2, with collation of three other copies. #D.# Eva Wigström, Folkdiktning, I, 62, No 29. #E.# Öberg, in Aminson, Bidrag, I, 23. #F.# Axelson, Vesterdalarne, p. 174, No 2, three stanzas, the rest said to be "entirely like" the Afzelius copies, which differ considerably. A maid is in the hands of sea-rovers, and they are on the point of rowing off with her. She wrings her hands, and calls to them to wait a while. She sees her father coming, who will redeem her with his oxen, and so she shall escape going to the heathen land to pine away. The father says he has but oxen two: the one he shall be using, the other he shall keep--låta stå; and she will not scape going to the heathen land. The sailors lower their oars. The maid wrings her hands, and calls to them again to wait; she sees her mother coming, who will redeem her with her gold caskets. The mother says she has of gold caskets but two: the one she shall be using, the other shall let stay. The maid sees her sister, who will redeem her with her gold crowns. The sister has but two gold crowns, one of which she shall be using, the other will let be. The maid sees her brother, who will redeem her with his foals. The brother has but two foals: the one he shall be using, the other he will let be, and she will not scape from going to the heathen land to pine away. Then the maid sees her true-love coming, and calls to him to redeem her with his gold rings. "Of gold rings," he says, "I have no more than twelve: with six I shall redeem thee, six thou shalt have thyself; so thou scapest going to the heathen land to pine away."

This is the story in #A#, and the chief variations of the other copies are in the things which the maid proposes to her kindred and her lover to redeem her with, and the number of these which they profess to have. The spuriousness of the introductory stanza, in which the girl is said to have been sold into the heathen land for dire need, is evident. The family have two oxen, two gold caskets, two gold crowns, two foals; or even houses, gold caskets, gold chains, mills, more than five, #B#, and no doubt everything handsome about them. In #D# the father is even a king. #E#, #F# lack this beginning. #C# concludes with a permissible imprecation on the part of the lover:

'Cursed be thy father, cursed be thy mother, Cursed be thy sister, and even so thy brother!'

In #Danish# the ballad occurs in manuscripts, and has been printed as a broadside: Bergström's Afzelius, II, 63.

#German.# #A.# Gräter's Idunna und Hermode, 1814, p. 76, communicated by Abrahamson, one of the editors of the Danske Viser, as learned by him from a maid-servant of his mother, in Sleswig, not long after 1750. #B.# 'Liebesprobe,' Kretzschmer-Zuccalmaglio, II, 54, No 22, "from North Germany," apparently a little retouched. #C.# 'Des Liebsten Liebe die grösste Liebe,' Hoffmann und Richter, p. 43, No 23, Silesia. #D.# 'Loskauf,' Erk's Liederhort, p. 136, No 40, Saxony. #E.# 'Das losgekaufte Mädchen,' Erk und Irmer, II, 52, No 53, Saxony. #F.# 'Loskauf,' Erk's Liederhort, p. 138, No 40^a, Brandenburg. #G.# 'O Schipmann,' Reiffenberg, p. 138, Westphalia. #H.# 'O Schipmann,' Reiffenberg, p. 10, No 5, Westphalia. #I.# 'Loskauf,' Uhland, p. 267, No 117, Westphalia. #J.# Köhler, in Anzeiger für deutsches Alterthum, VI, 268, from Friedrich Kind in "Abend-Zeitung, 1819, No 164, Kind's Erzählungen, 1822, p. 77," Auserwählte Unterhaltungen, Wien, 1827, I, 20. 'Die Losgekaufte,' in Kretzschmer, I, 181, is rewritten; 'Loskauf,' in Simrock, No 39, p. 90, is made up from a variety of copies. Several of the versions come very near to one another, especially #C-F#, nor is there any noteworthy difference in the story of the whole series, save a single point in the last three. A maid whom seamen are carrying off begs them to stop or put back to land; she has a father who will not abandon her. She begs her father to part with coat, house, hat, watch, or bull, to save her from drowning; the father refuses. Then, as before, she successively and vainly entreats her mother to redeem her with gold chain, ring, apron, gown, or silver trinkets; her brother with silver buckles, hat, horse, sword, or coat; her sister with apron, dress, shoes, green wreath, or pearl wreath. Two of the four relatives are wanting in #H#, #I#, #J#. All of her blood refusing to ransom the maid, she calls upon her lover to sacrifice sword, horse, ring, golden hill, to save her, or, in #H#, #I#, #J#, to sell himself to the oar, and the lover is ready in every case. The redemption is not from slavery in a foreign land, but from drowning.

#Esthonian.# The ballad is known all over Esthonia, and a copy composed of two closely resembling versions is given by Neus, Ehstnische Volkslieder, p. 109, 'Die Ausgelöste.' A girl, taken captive in war, asks that the boats may put in, in order that she may find some one to buy her off. She appeals first to her mother, who might redeem her with the best of three aprons which she possesses, one of which is of gold web, another of silver, another of brass. A daughter, answers the mother, is a thing of to-day and to-morrow; my aprons are for life. Her father is next asked to ransom her with the best of three bulls which he owns, which have a horn of gold, silver, and brass respectively. His daughter is his for two days, his bulls for life. The brother is entreated to save her by the sacrifice of the best of his three horses, which have severally manes of gold, silver, and brass. His sister is his for two days, his horse for life. The sister is asked to part with the best of her three wreaths, which are of gold, silver, brass, for an only sister's sake. A sister is hers for a month or two, her wreath for life. Finally the maid turns to her true-love, who has three hats, one of brass, one of silver, one of gold, and entreats him to devote the best to her redemption. How long lasts a hat? he exclaims. A couple of days; but my betrothed for life! Another copy of the same ballad is given by Neus in Dorpater Jahrbücher, V, 228.

The ballad is equally popular in Finland: 'Lunastettava neiti,' Kanteletar, 1864, p. 283, No 26, p. 285, No 27, ed. 1840, III, 131, 137, 273 f; Rancken, Några prof, p. 9.

In various Slavic ballads the man and maid change parts, and the man is ransomed by the generosity of his mistress when his kinsfolk have failed him.

Two #Wendish# ballads, Haupt and Schmaler, #A#, No 74, #B#, No 75, I, 107 ff, begin, like the popular German ballad 'Der Schäfer und der Edelmann,' with a shepherd's being thrown into prison by a nobleman for wearing a costume beyond his rank, and proud words besides. He sees his father coming, #A#, and asks him to pawn half a hundred sheep and get him out. The father prefers his half hundred sheep. He sees his mother coming, and asks her to pawn two cows and release him. She prefers her cows. He sees his brother coming, and asks him to pawn his horse. His brother prefers his horse. He sees his sister coming, and asks her to pawn a fine gown, but the gown again is much dearer in his sister's eyes. He sees his love coming, and asks her to pawn her coral necklace for his ransom, which she does, and he is released. In #B# he writes to father, mother, and sister to ransom him; they all tell him that if he were good for anything he would not be in prison. His love flies to him and ransoms him.[157]

#Russian.# Čelakowský, II, 106,[158] Sakharof, IV, 171, No 13. A young man in prison writes to father and mother for ransom; the whole family will have nothing to do with malefactors and robbers. His love, when written to, calls to her women to get her gold together, all that shall be needed to free him.

#Little-Russian.# Golovatsky, I, 48, No 8. An imprisoned youth writes to his father, Wilt thou ransom me, or shall I perish? How much must he give? Forty saddled horses. Better he should perish. He writes to his mother; she must give forty oxen with their yokes. She declines. He writes to his love; she must furnish forty geese with their goslings. I will spin, she says, spin lustily, buy geese, and ransom thee. No 7, I, 46, is to the same effect, but lacks the close.

#Slovenian.# 'Rodbina,' 'Kinship,' Vraz, Narodne Pěsni ilirske, p. 141.[159] A hero in prison asks his father to release him; the three horses he must give are too much. He asks his mother; the three castles she must give are too much. He asks his brother; the three rifles he must give are too much. He asks his sister; the three fair tresses she must sacrifice are too much. He asks his love; she must give her white hand. Not too much is my white hand, she says; easy to give for thee hand and life besides.

A Little-Russian ballad in Waclaw z Oleska, p. 226, and a Polish in Waldbrühl's Balalaika, p. 504, have the same theme, Love stronger than Blood (woman's love here), but do not belong with the pieces already cited as to form.

Communicated to Percy, April 7, 1770, by the Rev. P. Parsons, of Wey, from oral tradition.

* * * * * * *

1 'O good Lord Judge, and sweet Lord Judge, Peace for a little while! Methinks I see my own father, Come riding by the stile.

2 'Oh father, oh father, a little of your gold, And likewise of your fee! To keep my body from yonder grave, And my neck from the gallows-tree.'

3 'None of my gold now you shall have, Nor likewise of my fee; For I am come to see you hangd, And hanged you shall be.'

4 'Oh good Lord Judge, and sweet Lord Judge, Peace for a little while! Methinks I see my own mother, Come riding by the stile.

5 'Oh mother, oh mother, a little of your gold, And likewise of your fee, To keep my body from yonder grave, And my neck from the gallows-tree!'

6 'None of my gold now shall you have, Nor likewise of my fee; For I am come to see you hangd, And hanged you shall be.'

7 'Oh good Lord Judge, and sweet Lord Judge, Peace for a little while! Methinks I see my own brother, Come riding by the stile.

8 'Oh brother, oh brother, a little of your gold, And likewise of your fee, To keep my body from yonder grave, And my neck from the gallows-tree!'

9 'None of my gold now shall you have, Nor likewise of my fee; For I am come to see you hangd, And hanged you shall be.'

10 'Oh good Lord Judge, and sweet Lord Judge, Peace for a little while! Methinks I see my own sister, Come riding by the stile.

11 'Oh sister, oh sister, a little of your gold, And likewise of your fee, To keep my body from yonder grave, And my neck from the gallows-tree!'

12 'None of my gold now shall you have, Nor likewise of my fee; For I am come to see you hangd, And hanged you shall be.'

13 'Oh good Lord Judge, and sweet Lord Judge, Peace for a little while! Methinks I see my own true-love, Come riding by the stile.

14 'Oh true-love, oh true-love, a little of your gold, And likewise of your fee, To save my body from yonder grave, And my neck from the gallows-tree.'

15 'Some of my gold now you shall have, And likewise of my fee, For I am come to see you saved, And saved you shall be.'

Motherwell MS., p. 290, from the recitation of Widow McCormick; learned in Dumbarton.

* * * * * * *

1 'It's hold your hand, dear judge,' she says, 'O hold your hand for a while! For yonder I see my father a coming, Riding many's the mile.

2 'Have you any gold, father?' she says, 'Or have you any fee? Or did you come to see your own daughter a hanging, Like a dog, upon a tree?'

3 'I have no gold, daughter,' he says, 'Neither have I any fee; But I am come to see my ain daughter hanged, And hanged she shall be.'

4 'Hey the broom, and the bonny, bonny broom, The broom o the Cauthery Knowes! I wish I were at hame again, Milking my ain daddie's ewes.

5 'Hold your hand, dear judge,' she says, 'O hold your hand for a while! For yonder I see my own mother coming, Riding full many a mile.

6 'Have you any gold, mother?' she says, 'Or have you any fee? Or did you come to see your own daughter hanged, Like a dog, upon a tree?'

7 'I have no gold, daughter,' she says, 'Neither have I any fee; But I am come to see my own daughter hanged, And hanged she shall be.'

8 'Hey the broom, the bonnie, bonnie broom, The broom o the Cauthery Knowes! I wish I were at hame again, Milking my ain daddie's ewes.

9 'Hold your hand, dear judge,' she says, 'O hold your hand for a while! For yonder I see my ae brother a coming, Riding many's the mile.

10 'Have you any gold, brother?' she says, 'Or have you any fee? Or did you come to see your ain sister a hanging, Like a dog, upon a tree?'

11 'I have no gold, sister,' he says, 'Nor have I any fee; But I am come to see my ain sister hanged, And hanged she shall be.'

12 'Hey the broom, the bonnie, bonnie broom, The broom o the Cathery Knowes! I wish I were at hame again, Milking my ain daddie's ewes.

13 'Hold your hand, dear judge,' she says, 'O hold your hand for a while! For yonder I see my own true-love coming, Riding full many a mile.

14 'Have you any gold, my true-love?' she says, 'Or have you any fee? Or have you come to see your own love hanged, Like a dog, upon a tree?'

* * * * * * *

Notes and Queries, Sixth Series, VII, 275, 1883: communicated by the Rev. E. Venables, Precentor of Lincoln, as sung by a nurse-maid from Woburn, near High Wycombe, Buckinghamshire, "between fifty and sixty years ago."

1 'Hold up thy hand, most righteous judge, Hold up thy hand a while! For here I see my own dear father, Come tumbling over the stile.

2 'Oh hast thou brought me silver or gold, Or jewels, to set me free? Or hast thou come to see me hung? For hanged I shall be.

3 'If I could get out of this prickly bush, That prickles my heart so sore, If I could get out of this prickly bush, I'd never get in it no more.'

4 'Oh I have brought nor silver nor gold, Nor jewels, to set thee free; But I have come to see thee hung, For hanged thou shall be.

* * * * * * *

5 'It's I have brought thee silver and gold, And jewels, to set thee free; I have not come to see thee hung, For hanged thou shall not be.'

6 'Now I have got out of this prickly bush, That prickled my heart so sore, And I have got out of this prickly bush, I'll never get in it no more.'

Skene MSS, p. 61, stanzas 19-24: taken down in the north or northeast of Scotland, 1802-03.

1 . . . . . . . 'O had your hand a while! For yonder comes my father, I'm sure he'l borrow me.

2 'O some of your goud, father, An of your well won fee! To save me [frae the high hill], [And] frae the gallow-tree.'

3 'Ye 's get nane of my goud, Nor of my well won fee, For I would gie five hundred poun To see ye hangit hie.'

4 . . . . . . . 'O had yer hand a while! Yonder is my love Willie, Sure he will borrow me.

5 'O some o your goud, my love Willie, An some o yer well won fee! To save me frae the high hill, And frae the gallow-tree.'

6 'Ye's get a' my goud, And a' my well won fee, To save ye fra the headin-hill, And frae the gallow-tree.'

Buchan's MSS, II, 186, stanzas 16-22.

1 'Hold your hands, ye justice o peace, Hold them a little while! For yonder comes my father and mother, That 's travelld mony a mile.

2 'Gie me some o your gowd, parents, Some o your white monie, To save me frae the head o yon hill, Yon greenwood gallows-tree.'

3 'Ye 'll get nane o our gowd, daughter, Nor nane o our white monie, For we have travelld mony a mile, This day to see you die.'

4 'Hold your hands, ye justice o peace, Hold them a little while! For yonder comes him Warenston, The father of my chile.

5 'Give me some o your gowd, Warenston, Some o your white monie, To save me frae the head o yon hill, Yon greenwood gallows-tree.'

6 'I bade you nurse my bairn well, And nurse it carefullie, And gowd shoud been your hire, Maisry, And my body your fee.'

7 He's taen out a purse o gowd, Another o white monie, And he's tauld down ten thousand crowns, Says, True-love, gang wi me.

Notes and Queries, Sixth Series, VI, 476, 1882: "sung in Forfarshire, forty years ago."

1 'Stop, stop, ... . . . . . . . I think I see my father coming, . . . . . . .

2 'O hae ye brocht my silken cloak, Or my golden key? Or hae ye come to see me hanged, On this green gallows-tree?'

3 'I've neither brocht your silken cloak, Nor your golden key, But I have come to see you hanged, On this green gallows-tree.'

* * * * * * *

4 'I've neither brocht your silken cloak, Nor your golden key, But I am come to set you free From this green gallows-tree.'

#a.# Notes and Queries, Sixth Series, VI, 415, 1882. #b.# The same, p. 269.

1 'Hangman, hangman, stop a minute, . . . . . . . I think I see my father coming, . . . . . . .

2 'Father, father, have you found the key, And have you come to set me free? Or have you come to see me hanged, Upon this gallows-tree?'

* * * * * * *

3 'I have not come to see you hanged, Upon the gallows-tree, For I have found the golden key,' . . . . . . .

#a.# Baring-Gould's Appendix to Henderson's Notes on the Folk Lore of the Northern Counties of England and the Borders, 1866, p. 333, Yorkshire. #b.# Notes and Queries, Sixth Series, X, 354, 1884.

1 'Stop, stop! ... . . . . . . . I think I see my mother coming, . . . . . . .

2 'Oh mother, hast brought my golden ball, And come to set me free? . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

3 'I've neither brought thy golden ball, Nor come to set thee free, But I have come to see thee hung, Upon this gallows-tree.'

4 'Stop, stop! ... . . . . . . . I think I see my father coming, . . . . . . .

5 'O father, hast brought my golden ball, And come to set me free? . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

6 'I've neither brought thy golden ball, Nor come to set thee free, But I have come to see thee hung, Upon this gallows-tree.'

7 'Stop, stop! ... . . . . . . . I see my sweet-heart coming, . . . . . . .

8 'Sweet-heart, hast brought my golden ball, And come to set me free? . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

9 'Aye, I have brought thy golden ball, And come to set thee free; I have not come to see thee hung, Upon this gallows-tree.'

* * * * *

#B.#

The title, '~The Broom o the Cathery Knowes~,' is not prefixed to the ballad, but is given in the Index.

5^4. _Changed by Motherwell to ~many's the mile~, as in 1._

12. Hey the broom, &c.

#C.#

This version, which the Rev. E. Venables has also communicated to me in manuscript, was tagged on to a fragment of '~Hugh of Lincoln~.'

After 4: "Mother, brother, sister, uncle, aunt, etc., succeed. At last comes the own true love, who replies."

#D.#

2^{3, 4}. Restored from stanza 5.

#F.#

"It was sung in Forfarshire forty years ago by girls during the progress of some game, which I do not now distinctly recollect. A lady, at the point of being executed, cries Stop, stop! I think I see my father coming. Then, addressing her father, she asks," as in stanza 2; "to which the father replies," as in stanza 3. "Mother, brother, sister, are each addressed in turn, and give the same answer. Last of all the fair sinner sees her lover coming, and on putting the question to him is answered thus," as in stanza 4; "whereupon the game ends." W. F. (2), Saline Manse, Fife.

#G. a.#

Before stanza 1: "I think the title of this ballad is 'The Golden Key.' The substance of it is that a woman has lost a gold key, and is about to be hung, when she exclaims, as in stanza 1. Then follows" stanza 2. After 2: "Father, mother, brother, sister, all in turn come up, and have not found the lost key. At last the sweet-heart appears, who exclaims triumphantly," as in stanza 3. "I write this from memory. I never saw it in print." H. Fishwick.

#b.#

"A lady writes to me, My mother used to hear, in Lancashire and Cheshire, a ballad of which she only recollects three lines:

And I'm not come to set you free, But I am come to see you hanged, All under the gallows-tree.

The last line was repeated, I believe, in every verse." William Andrews.

#H. a.#

The verses form part of a Yorkshire story called ~The Golden Ball~. A man gives a golden ball to each of two lasses, and if either loses the ball she is to be hanged. The younger, while playing with her ball, tosses it over a park-paling; the ball runs away over the grass into a house, and is seen no more.

"Now t' lass was taken to York to be hanged. She was brought out on t' scaffold, and t' hangman said, Now, lass, tha must hang by t' neck till tha be'st dead. But she cried out, Stop, stop," etc., stanzas 1-3.

"Then the hangman said. Now, lass, say thy prayers, for tha must dee." Stanzas 4-6 follow. The maid thinks she sees her brother coming, her sister, uncle, aunt, cousin. The hangman then says, "I wee-nt stop no longer, tha's making gam of me. Tha must be hung at once. But now she saw her sweetheart coming through the crowd, and he had over head i t' air her own golden ball. So she said," as in stanzas 7-9.

#b.#

Miss Kate Thompson, of Newcastle-on-Tyne, had when a child frequently been told the story of ~The Golden Ball~ by a woman who was a native of the Borderland. A rich lady possessed a golden ball, which she held in high esteem. A poor girl, her servant, had to clean this ball every day, and it was death to lose it. One day when she was cleaning the ball near a stream it disappeared. The girl was condemned to die, and had mounted the scaffold. The story was all in prose up to the execution, when the narrator broke into rhyme:

'Stop the rope! stop the rope! For here I see my mother coming.

'Oh mother, have you brought the golden ball, And come to set me free? Or are you only here to see me die, Upon the high, high gallows-tree?'

The mother answers that she has only come to see her die. Other relatives follow, and last of all comes the lover, who produces the ball, and the execution is stopped. Miss Thompson adds that two Northumbrian servants in her house remember the story so.

[154] Liebrecht was the first to call attention to this ballad-cycle, Zur Volkskunde, p. 222, repeating, with enlargement, an article in Zeitschrift für deutsche Philologie, IX, 53. He gives the Sicilian text, and a Balearic and a Färöe, presently to be noticed, with translations, and points out other parallels. Reifferscheid made additions in his Westfälische Volkslieder, p. 10, p. 138 ff. I have not at hand the Effemeridi for 1874.

[155] "Legen kan nu fortsættes videre" might imply that the ballad was used as a game; but it is presumable that the author would have been explicit, had he meant this.

[156] Translated by George Stephens in the Foreign Quarterly Review, XXVI, 31.

[157] In the same collection, No 297, I, 297, there is no refusal on the part of the kindred, but what they offer is insufficient, and the maid succeeds by outbidding them. So in some of the corresponding German ballads, as Hoffmann und Richter, Nos 9, 10; Erk's Liederhort, Nos 51, 51^a, 51^b; Elwert, Ungedruckte Reste alten Gesangs, p. 43,==Liederhort, 51^c; Longard, p. 22, No 11; Fiedler, p. 141. In Ulmann's Lettische Volkslieder, 1874, p. 168 (cited by Reiffenberg), 'Der losgekaufte Soldat,' a conscript writes to father, mother, brother, sister, to buy him off, and they devote horses, cows, lands, dowry, to this object, but do not succeed. His mistress sells her wreath and frees him.

[158] Goetze, Stimmen des russischen Volks, p. 150; Wenzig, Slawische Volkslieder, p. 151.

[159] Translated by Anastasius Grün, Volkslieder aus Krain, p. 30.

THE GAY GOSHAWK

#A.# 'The Gay Goss Hawk,' Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 15, No 6.

#B.# Motherwell's MS., p. 230.

#C.# 'The Jolly Goshawk,' Motherwell's MS., p. 435; Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 353.

#D.# 'The Gay Goss-hawk,' Motherwell's Note-Book, 27; Motherwell's MS., p. 415.

#E.# 'The Gay Goss-hawk,' Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, II, 7, 1802.

#F.# Communicated by Miss Reburn, as sung in County Meath, Ireland.

#G.# 'The Scottish Squire,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 245.

The 'Gay Goshawk' first appeared in print in the second volume of Scott's Minstrelsy, in 1802. Scott's copy was formed partly from Mrs Brown's version, #A#, "and partly from a MS. of some antiquity penes Edit." This compounded copy is now given, #E#, with those portions which are contained in the Brown MS. printed in smaller type, in order that what is peculiar to the other manuscript may be distinguished. A second copy of #A# was made for William Tytler under the direction of the reciter in 1783, but has not been recovered. There were 28 stanzas, as in #A#, and the first stanza has been given by Anderson in Nichols's Illustrations, VII, 176. #C# was furnished Motherwell by Buchan from a manuscript sent him, and Buchan says that he himself took down from recitation the vilely dilated and debased #G#: Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 340.

A ballad widely known in France has the central idea of the Gay Goshawk, a maid's feigning death to escape from a father to a lover whom she is not permitted to marry, but in the development of the story there is no likeness. A version of this ballad, 'Belle Isambourg,' was printed as early as 1607 in a collection with the title Airs de Cour, p. 40, and was republished by Rathery in the Moniteur of August 26, 1853, p. 946, afterwards in Haupt's Französische Volkslieder, p. 92. The king wishes to give Fair Isambourg a husband, but her heart is fixed on a handsome knight, whom she loves more than all her kin together, though he is poor. The king shuts her up in a dark tower, thinking that this treatment will bring about a change, but it does not. Isambourg sees her lover riding towards or by the tower at full speed. She calls to him to stop, and says:

Malade et morte m'y feray, Porter en terre m'y lairray, Pourtant morte je ne seray.

Puis apres je vous prie amy, Qu'à ma chapelle a Sainct-Denis Ne m'y laissez pas enfouir.

Isambourg is now proclaimed to be dead, and is carried to burial by three princes and a knight. Her lover, hearing the knelling and chanting, puts himself in the way and bids the bearers stop. Since she has died for loving him too well, he wishes to say a De profundis. He rips open a little of the shroud, and she darts a loving smile at him. Everybody is astonished.

Other versions, derived from oral tradition, have a more popular stamp: (1.) Poésies populaires de la France, MS., III, 54, 'La fille du roi et le Prince de Guise,' learned at Maubeuge, about 1760. (2.) III, 47, 'Le beau Déon,' Auvergne. (3.) III, 49, 'La princesse de la Grand' Tour,' Berry. (4.) III, 50 (the hero being Léon), Berry. (5.) III, 53, Caudebec. (6.) III, 56, Pamiers, Languedoc. (7.) III, 57, and II, 52, Orléans. (8.) 'La fille d'un prince,' Buchon, Noëls et chants p. de la Franche-Comté, p. 82, No 16. (9.) 'La fille d'un prince,' Rondes et Chansons p. illustrées, Paris, 1876, p. 286. (10.) 'La princesse,' Guillon, Chansons p. de l'Ain, p. 87. (11.) 'La maîtresse captive,' Puymaigre, Chants p. messins, I, 87. (12.) Le Héricher, Littérature p. de Normandie, p. 153 f. (13.) 'De Dion et de la fille du roi,' Ampère, Instructions, p. 38, the first fourteen stanzas; Auvergne. (14.) G. de Nerval, La Bohème Galante, ed. 1866, p. 70, and Les Faux Saulniers, ed. 1868, p. 346, the story completed in Les Filles du Feu, ed. 1868, p. 132; or, in the collection lately made from his works, Chansons et Ballades p. du Valois, p. 16, VIII. The last two have a false termination, as already remarked under No 4, I, 42.

In these traditional versions, the father pays a visit to the princess after she has been confined seven years, and asks how she is. One side is eaten away by worms, her feet are rotting in the irons. She begs a few sous to give the jailer to loosen her fetters. Millions are at her disposal if she will give up her lover. Rather rot, is her reply. Rot, then, says her father. The lover comes by and throws a few words of writing into the tower, directing her to counterfeit death. The rest is much the same. In several versions the king yields.

There are many other ballads in which a girl, for one reason or another, feigns death. In 'Les trois capitaines,' or 'La jolie fille de la Garde,' etc., Arbaud, I, 143, Decombe, Ch. p. d'Ille-et-Vilaine, p. 150, No 51, Champfleury, Ch. p. des Provinces, p. 95, Bujeaud, II, 174, 'La Bohème Galante,' ed. 1866, p. 71 f, Chansons du Valois, p. 19, IX, Puymaigre, Vieux Auteurs, II, 478, E. Legrand, Romania, X, 369, No 6, the object is to save her honor;[160] so in Marcoaldi, p. 162, No 10, Ferraro, C. p. monferrini, p. 41, No 31. The well-disposed hostess of an inn administers a sleeping-draught, in Arbaud's ballad and in Decombe's. The object is to avoid becoming a king's mistress, in 'Kvindelist,' Grundtvig, IV, 394, No 235, 'Hertig Hillebrand och hans Syster,' Arwidsson, I, 380 No 61; in a Bohemian ballad, to avoid marrying a Turk, 'Oklamaný Turek,' 'The Turk duped,' Čelakovský, III, 11 (translated in Bowring's Cheskian Anthology, p. 129) Erben, p. 485, etc., etc.; to move a lover who is on the point of deserting, Hoffmann, Niederländische Volkslieder, p. 61, No 15, Willems, No 60, Uhland, No 97 #B#.

In 'Willie's Lyke-Wake,' No 25, I, 247, a man feigns death in order to capture a coy maid, or a maid refused him by her parents.

Birds are not seldom employed as posts in ballads: see 'Sweet William,' Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 307, Milá, Romancerillo, No 258; Hartung, Romanceiro, I, 193 (dove). A falcon carries a letter, in Afzelius, III, 116, No 87, and Milá, No 258 K, and Marko Kraljevitch sends a letter by a falcon from his prison, Karadshitch, II, 383. For a love-message of a general sort, not involving business, the nightingale is usually and rightly selected. On the other hand, a nightingale first orders a ring of a goldsmith, and afterwards delivers it to a lady, in Uhland, No 15.[161] In this ballad the goshawk is endowed with the nightingale's voice. The substitution of a parrot in #G#, a bird that we all know can talk, testifies to the advances made by reason among the humblest in the later generations.[162] A parrot, says Buchan, "is by far a more likely messenger to carry a love-letter or deliver a verbal message," II, 341. The parrot goes well with the heroine swooning on a sofa (stanza 33) and the step-dame sitting on the sofa's end (stanza 36).

Thieves drop three drops of wax on the breast of a servant-girl who is feigning sleep, and she shows no sign of feeling, in a Catalan ballad, Milá, Romancerillo, p. 104, No 114, vv 13-16, Observaciones, p. 147, No 43, Briz, I, 147.[163]

Translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og skotske Folkeviser, No 32, after #E#, #C#, #G#. After #D# by Talvj, Versuch, u. s. w., p. 560; Schubart, p. 57; Doenniges, p. 19; Gerhard, p. 37; Loève-Veimars, p. 264. By Knortz, Lieder Alt-Englands, No 2, after #C#; by Rosa Warrens, Schottische Volkslieder, No 38, after #C# and #E#, sometimes following Aytoun, I, 178.

Jamieson-Brown MS., No 6, pt 15.

1 'O well's me o my gay goss-hawk, That he can speak and flee; He'll carry a letter to my love, Bring back another to me.'

2 'O how can I your true-love ken, Or how can I her know? Whan frae her mouth I never heard couth, Nor wi my eyes her saw.'

3 'O well sal ye my true-love ken, As soon as you her see; For, of a' the flowrs in fair Englan, The fairest flowr is she.

4 'At even at my love's bowr-door There grows a bowing birk, An sit ye down and sing thereon, As she gangs to the kirk.

5 'An four-and-twenty ladies fair Will wash and go to kirk, But well shall ye my true-love ken, For she wears goud on her skirt.

6 'An four and twenty gay ladies Will to the mass repair, But well sal ye my true-love ken, For she wears goud on her hair.'

7 O even at that lady's bowr-door There grows a bowin birk, An she set down and sang thereon, As she ged to the kirk.

8 'O eet and drink, my marys a', The wine flows you among, Till I gang to my shot-window, An hear yon bonny bird's song.

9 'Sing on, sing on, my bonny bird, The song ye sang the streen, For I ken by your sweet singin You 're frae my true-love sen.'

10 O first he sang a merry song, An then he sang a grave, An then he peckd his feathers gray, To her the letter gave.

11 'Ha, there's a letter frae your love, He says he sent you three; He canna wait your love langer, But for your sake he'll die.

12 'He bids you write a letter to him; He says he's sent you five; He canna wait your love langer, Tho you 're the fairest woman alive.'

13 'Ye bid him bake his bridal-bread, And brew his bridal-ale, An I 'll meet him in fair Scotlan Lang, lang or it be stale.'

14 She 's doen her to her father dear, Fa'n low down on her knee: 'A boon, a boon, my father dear, I pray you, grant it me.'

15 'Ask on, ask on, my daughter, An granted it sal be; Except ae squire in fair Scotlan, An him you sall never see.'

16 'The only boon, my father dear, That I do crave of the, Is, gin I die in southin lands, In Scotland to bury me.

17 'An the firstin kirk that ye come till, Ye gar the bells be rung, An the nextin kirk that ye come till, Ye gar the mess be sung.

18 'An the thirdin kirk that ye come till, You deal gold for my sake, An the fourthin kirk that ye come till, You tarry there till night.'

19 She is doen her to her bigly bowr, As fast as she coud fare, An she has tane a sleepy draught, That she had mixed wi care.

20 She's laid her down upon her bed, An soon she's fa'n asleep, And soon oer every tender limb Cauld death began to creep.

21 Whan night was flown, an day was come, Nae ane that did her see But thought she was as surely dead As ony lady coud be.

22 Her father an her brothers dear Gard make to her a bier; The tae half was o guide red gold, The tither o silver clear.

23 Her mither an her sisters fair Gard work for her a sark; The tae half was o cambrick fine, The tither o needle wark.

24 The firstin kirk that they came till, They gard the bells be rung, An the nextin kirk that they came till, They gard the mess be sung.

25 The thirdin kirk that they came till, They dealt gold for her sake, An the fourthin kirk that they came till, Lo, there they met her make!

26 'Lay down, lay down the bigly bier, Lat me the dead look on;' Wi cherry cheeks and ruby lips She lay an smil'd on him.

27 'O ae sheave o your bread, true-love, An ae glass o your wine, For I hae fasted for your sake These fully days is nine.

28 'Gang hame, gang hame, my seven bold brothers, Gang hame and sound your horn; An ye may boast in southin lans Your sister's playd you scorn.'

Motherwell's MS., p. 230: from the recitation of Mrs Bell, of Paisley, and of Miss Montgomerie, of Edinburgh, her sister.

1 Out then spoke the king of Scotland, And he spak wondrous clear: Where will I get a boy, and a pretty little boy, That will my tidings bear?

2 Out then spak a pretty little bird, As it sat on a brier: What will ye gie me, king of Scotland, he said, If I your tidings will bear?

3 'One wing of the beaten gowd, And another of the silver clear; It's all unto thee, my pretty little bird, If thou my tidings will bear.'

4 The bird flew high, the bird flew low, This bird flew to and fro, Until that he came to the king of England's dochter, Who was sitting in her bower-window.

5 'Here is a gift, a very rare gift, And the king has sent you three; He says if your father and mother winna let, You may come privately.

6 'Here is a gift, and a very rare gift, The king has sent you five; He says he will not wait any longer on you, If there be another woman alive.'

7 She's away to her mother dear, Made a low beck on her knee: 'What is your asking of me, daughter? Queen of Scotland you never shall be.'

8 'That's not my asking of thee, mother, That's not my asking of thee; But that if I die in merry England, In Scotland you will bury me.'

9 She's awa to her father dear, Made a low beck on her knee: 'What is your asking of me, daughter? Queen of Scotland you never shall be.'

10 'That's not my asking of thee, father, That's not my asking of thee; But that if I die in merry England, In Scotland you will bury me.'

11 She walked to and fro, She walked up and down, But ye wud na spoken three words to an end Till she was in a deep swoon.

12 Out then spoke an auld witch-wife, And she spoke random indeed: Honoured madam, I would have you to try Three drops of the burning lead.

13 Her mother went weeping round and round, She dropped one on her chin; 'Och and alace,' her mother did say, 'There is no breath within!'

14 Her mother went weeping round and round, She dropt one on her briest; 'Och and alace,' her mother did cry, 'For she's died without a priest!'

15 Her mother went weeping round and round, She dropped one on her toe; 'Och and alace,' her mother did cry, 'To Scotland she must goe!

16 'Call down, call down her sisters five, To make to her a smock; The one side of the bonny beaten gold, And the other of the needle-work.

17 'Call down, call down her brothers seven, To make for her a bier; The one side of the bonny beaten gold, And the other of the silver clear.'

18 Many a mile by land they went, And many a league by sea, Until that they came to the king of Scotland, Who was walking in his own valley.

19 'Here is a gift, and a very rare gift, And you to have made her your own; But now she is dead, and she's new come from her steed, And she's ready to lay in the ground.'

20 O he has opened the lid of the coffin, And likewise the winding sheet, And thrice he has kissed her cherry, cherry cheek, And she smiled on him full sweet.

21 'One hit of your bread,' she says, 'And one glass of your wine; It's all for you and your sake I've fasted long days nine.

22 'One glass of your wine,' she says, 'And one bit of your bread; For it 's all for you and for your sake I suffered the burning lead.

23 'Go home, go home, my brothers seven, You may go blow your horn; And you may tell it in merry England That your sister has given you the scorn.

24 'Go home, go home, my brothers seven, Tell my sisters to sew their seam; And you may tell it in merry England That your sister she is queen.'

Motherwell's MS., p. 435; communicated by Peter Buchan, from a MS. which had been sent him.

1 'O well is me, my jolly goshawk, That ye can speak and flee, For ye can carry a love-letter To my true-love from me.'

2 'O how can I carry a letter to her, When her I do not knaw? I bear the lips to her never spake, And the eyes that her never saw.'

3 'The thing of my love's face is white It's that of dove or maw; The thing of my love's face that's red Is like blood shed on snaw.

4 'And when you come to the castle, Light on the bush of ash, And sit you there and sing our loves, As she comes from the mass.

5 'And when she goes into the house, Sit ye upon the whin; And sit you there and sing our loves, As she goes out and in.'

6 And when he flew to that castel, He lighted on the ash; And there he sat and sang their loves, As she came from the mass.

7 And when she went into the house, He flew unto the whin; And there he sat and sang their loves, As she went out and in.

8 'Come hither, come hither, my maidens all, And sip red wine anon, Till I go to my west window, And hear a birdie's moan.'

9 She's gone unto her west window, And fainly aye it drew, And soon into her white silk lap The bird the letter threw.

10 'Ye're bidden send your love a send, For he has sent you twa; And tell him where he can see you, Or he cannot live ava.'

11 'I send him the rings from my white fingers, The garlands off my hair; I send him the heart that's in my breast: What would my love have mair? And at the fourth kirk in fair Scotland, Ye'll bid him meet me there.'

12 She hied her to her father dear, As fast as gang could she: 'An asking, an asking, my father dear, An asking ye grant me; That, if I die in fair England, In Scotland bury me.

13 'At the first kirk of fair Scotland, You cause the bells be rung; At the second kirk of fair Scotland, You cause the mass be sung.

14 'At the third kirk of fair Scotland, You deal gold for my sake; And the fourth kirk of fair Scotland, O there you'll bury me at.

15 'And now, my tender father dear, This asking grant you me;' 'Your asking is but small,' he said, 'Weel granted it shall be.'

16 She hied her to her mother dear, As fast as gang could she: 'An asking, an asking, my mother dear, An asking ye grant me; That if I die in fair England In Scotland bury me.

17 'And now, my tender mother dear, This asking grant you me;' 'Your asking is but small,' she said, 'Weel granted it shall be.'

18 She hied her to her sister dear, As fast as gang could she: 'An asking, an asking, my sister dear, An asking ye grant me; That if I die in fair England, In Scotland bury me.

19 'And now, my tender sister dear, This asking grant you me:' 'Your asking is but small,' she said, 'Weel granted it shall be.'

20 She hied her to her seven brothers, As fast as gang could she: 'An asking, an asking, my brothers seven, An asking ye grant me; That if I die in fair England, In Scotland ye bury me.

21 'And now, my tender brothers dear, This asking grant you me:' 'Your asking is but small,' they said, 'Weel granted it shall be.'

22 Then down as dead that lady drapd, Beside her mother's knee; Then out it spoke an auld witch-wife, By the fire-side sat she.

23 Says, Drap the hot lead on her cheek, And drop it on her chin, And drop it on her rose-red lips, And she will speak again: For much a lady young will do, To her true-love to win.

24 They drapd the het lead on her cheek, So did they on her chin; They drapt it on her red-rose lips, But they breathed none again.

25 Her brothers they went to a room, To make to her a bier; The boards of it was cedar wood, And the plates ow it gold so clear.

26 Her sisters they went to a room, To make to her a sark; The cloth of it was satin fine, And the steeking silken wark.

27 'But well is me, my jolly goshawk, That ye can speak and flee; Come shew to me any love-tokens That you have brought to me.'

28 'She sends you the rings from her fingers, The garlands from her hair; She sends you the heart within her breast; And what would you have mair? And at the fourth kirk of fair Scotland, She bids you meet her there.'

29 'Come hither, all my merry young men, And drink the good red wine; For we must on to fair Scotland, To free my love frae pine.'

30 At the first kirk of fair Scotland, They gart the bells be rung; At the second kirk of fair Scotland, They gart the mass be sung.

31 At the third kirk of fair Scotland, They dealt gold for her sake; And the fourth kirk of fair Scotland Her true-love met them at.

32 'Set down, set down the corpse,' he said, 'Till I look on the dead; The last time that I saw her face, She ruddy was and red; But now, alas, and woe is me! She's wallowit like a weed.'

33 He rent the sheet upon her face, A little above her chin; With lily-white cheeks, and lemin een, She lookt and laughd to him.

34 'Give me a chive of your bread, my love, A bottle of your wine; For I have fasted for your love These long days nine; There's not a steed in your stable But would have been dead ere syne.

35 'Go home, go home, my seven brothers, Go home and blow the horn; For you can say in the south of England Your sister gave you a scorn.

36 'I came not here to fair Scotland To lye amang the meal; But I came here to fair Scotland To wear the silks so weel.

37 'I came not here to fair Scotland To ly amang the dead; But I came here to fair Scotland To wear the gold so red.'

Motherwell's Note-Book, pp 27-30, Motherwell's MS., pp 415-17; from Agnes Laird, Kilbarchan, August 24, 1825.

1 'O where'll I get a pretty little bird That'll go my errand soon, That will fly to the Queen of England's dochter, And bid my trew-luve come?'

2 'Here am I, a pretty little bird, That'll go your errands soon, That will fly to the Queen of England's daughter, And bid your trew-luve come.'

3 This wee birdie's taken its flight, And it's flown owre the sea, Until it cam to the Queen of England's daughter; She's sitting in her bower-windie.

4 Then out bespoke these nine ladies, As they sat in a ring: 'O we'll awa to the west window, To hear this birdie sing.'

5 This wee birdie's taken its flight, And it's flown owre them a', And at the lady's left shoulder It loot a letter fa.

6 She has taken the letter up, And read it speedilie: 'O mother, the queen, O mother, the queen, Grant this request to me; Whenever I do chance for to die, In Scotland gar bury me.'

* * * * * * *

7 'Bring to me the red, red lead, And rub it on her chin; It's Oh and alace for my dochter Janet! But there is not a breath within.

8 'Bring to me the red, red lead, And rub it on her toe; It's Oh and alace for my daughter Janet! To Scotland she must go.'

9 'Rise up, rise up, ye seven sisters, And make her winding sheet, With the one side of the beaten gold, And the other o the needle-wark.

10 'Rise up, rise up, ye seven brethren, And make her carriage-bier, With the one side of the beaten gold, And the other o the silver clear.'

11 They've carried east, they 've carried west, They've carried her high and low, Until that they came to the king of Scotland, Was sitting in his bower-window.

12 'Here is a token of your trew-love, And here is a token come down, For she is dead, and she's ready to be buried, And she wants to be laid in your ground.'

13 He's taen out his mickle knife, And tore her winding sheet, And there she lay like the crimson red, And she smiled in his face so sweet.

14 'Go home, go home, you seven brethren, Go home and saw your corn, For she is fit for the queen of Scotland now, And she's gien you the scorn.

15 'Go home, go home, you seven sisters, Go home and sew your seam, For she is fit for the queen of Scotland now, And she's ready to be my queen.'

Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, II, 7, 1802; III, 151, 1833.

1 'O waly, waly, my gay goss-hawk, Gin your feathering be sheen!' 'And waly, waly, my master dear, Gin ye look pale and lean!

2 'O have ye tint at tournament Your sword, or yet your spear? Or mourn ye for the southern lass, Whom you may not win near?'

3 'I have not tint at tournament My sword, nor yet my spear, But sair I mourn for my true-love, Wi mony a bitter tear.

4 'But weel's me on ye, my gay goss-hawk, Ye can baith speak and flee; Ye sall carry a letter to my love, Bring an answer back to me.'

5 'But how sall I your true-love find, Or how suld I her know? I bear a tongue neer wi her spake, An eye that neer her saw.'

6 'O weel sall ye my true-love ken, Sae sune as ye her see, For of a' the flowers of fair England, The fairest flower is she.

7 'The red that's on my true-love's cheik Is like blood-drops on the snaw; The white that is on her breast bare Like the down o the white sea-maw.

8 'And even at my love's bouer-door There grows a flowering birk, And ye maun sit and sing thereon, As she gangs to the kirk.

9 'And four-and-twenty fair ladyes Will to the mass repair, But weel may ye my ladye ken, The fairest ladye there.'

10 Lord William has written a love-letter, Put it under his pinion gray, And he is awa to southern land, As fast as wings can gae.

11 And even at that ladye's bour There grew a flowering birk, And he sat down and sang thereon, As she gaed to the kirk.

12 And weel he kent that ladye feir Amang her maidens free, For the flower that springs in May morning Was not sae sweet as she.

13 [He lighted at the ladye's yate, And sat him on a pin, And sang fu sweet the notes o love, Till a' was cosh within.]

14 And first he sang a low, low note, And syne he sang a clear, And aye the oerword of the sang Was, Your love can no win here.

15 'Feast on, feast on, my maidens a', The wine flows you amang, While I gang to my shot-window, And hear yon bonny bird's sang.

16 'Sing on, sing on, my bonny bird, The sang ye sung yestreen; For weel I ken by your sweet singing Ye are frae my true-love sen.'

17 O first he sang a merry sang, And syne he sang a grave, And syne he peckd his feathers gray, To her the letter gave.

18 'Have there a letter from Lord William; He says he's sent ye three; He canna wait your love langer, But for your sake he 'll die.'

19 'Gae bid him bake his bridal bread, And brew his bridal ale, And I sall meet him at Mary's kirk, Lang, lang-ere it be stale.'

20 The lady's gane to her chamber, And a moanfu woman was she, As gin she had taen a sudden brash, And were about to die.

21 'A boon, a boon, my father deir, A boon I beg of thee!' 'Ask not that paughty Scotish lord, For him you neer shall see.

22 'But, for your honest asking else, Weel granted it shall be:' 'Then, gin I die in southern land, In Scotland gar bury me.

23 'And the first kirk that ye come to, Ye's gar the mass be sung, And the next kirk that ye come to, Ye's gar the bells be rung.

24 'And when ye come to St Mary's kirk, Ye's tarry there till night:' And so her father pledged his word, And so his promise plight.

25 She has taen her to her bigly bour, As fast as she could fare, And she has drank a sleepy draught, That she had mixed wi care.

26 And pale, pale grew her rosy cheek, That was sae bright of blee, And she seemed to be as surely dead As any one could be.

27 They drapt a drap o the burning red gowd, They drapt it on her chin; 'And ever alas,' her mother cried, 'There is nae life within!'

28 They drapt a drap o the burning red gowd, They drapt it on her breast-bane; 'Alas,' her seven bauld brothers said, 'Our sister's dead and gane!'

29 Then up arose her seven brethren, And hewd to her a bier; They hewd it frae the solid aik, Laid it oer wi silver clear.

30 Then up and gat her seven sisters, And sewed to her a kell, And every steek that they pat in Sewd to a siller bell.

31 The first Scots kirk that they cam to, They gard the bells be rung; The next Scots kirk that they cam to, They gard the mass be sung.

32 But when they cam to St Mary's kirk, There stude spearmen all on raw, And up and started Lord William, The chieftane amang them a'.

33 'Set down, set down the bier,' he said, 'Let me looke her upon:' But as soon as Lord William touched her hand, Her colour began to come.

34 She brightened like the lily-flower, Till her pale colour was gone; With rosy cheek, and ruby lip, She smiled her love upon.

35 'A morsel of your bread, my lord, And one glass of your wine, For I hae fasted these three lang days, All for your sake and mine.

36 'Gae hame, gae hame, my seven bauld brothers, Gae hame and blaw your horn; I trow you wad hae gien me the skaith, But I've gien you the scorn.

37 'Ah woe to you, you light woman, An ill death may you die! For we left father and mother at hame Breaking their hearts for thee.'

From Miss Margaret Reburn, as sung in County Meath, Ireland, about 1860.

* * * * * * *

1 She got three drops of boiling lead, And dropped them on her hand: 'Oh and alas, my daughter dear, I'd rather all my land!'

2 She got three drops of boiling lead, And dropped them on her chin: 'Oh and alas, my daughter dear, There is no life within!'

3 She got three drops of boiling lead, And dropped them on her toe: 'Oh and alas, my daughter dear, To fair Scotland you must go!'

* * * * * * *

4 'Give me a cake of the new made bread, And a cup of the new made wine, For for your sake, Lord Thomas,' she said, 'I fasted those days nine.'

Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 245, "from recitation."

1 When grass grew green on Lanark plains, And fruit and flowers did spring, A Scottish squire in cheerfu strains, Sae merrily thus did sing:

2 'O well fails me o my parrot That he can speak and flee; For he will carry love-letters Between my love and me.

3 'And well fails me o my parrot He can baith speak and gang; And he will carry love-letters To the maid in South England.'

4 'O how shall I your love find out? Or how shall I her know? When my tongue with her never spake, Nor my eyes her ever saw.'

5 'O what is red of her is red As blude drappd on the snaw; And what is white o her is white As milk, or the sea-maw.

6 'Even before that lady's yetts You'll find a bowing birk; And there ye'll sit, and sing thereon, Till she gaes to the kirk.

7 'Then even before that lady's yetts You'll find a bowing ash; And ye may sit and sing thereon, Till she comes frae the mass.

8 'And even before that lady's window You'll find a bed o tyme; And ye may sit and sing thereon, Till she sits down to dine.

9 'Even abeen that lady's window There's fixd a siller pin; And a' these words that I tell you, Ye'll sit and sing therein.

10 'Ye'll bid her send her love a letter, For he has sent her five; And he'll never send anither ane, To nae woman alive.

11 'Ye'll bid her send her love a letter, For he has sent her seven; And he'll never send anither send, To nae maid under heaven.'

12 This little bird then took his flight, Beyond the raging sea, And lighted at that lady's yetts, On tower o gowd sae hie.

13 Even before that lady's yetts He found a bowing birk; And there he sat, and sang thereon, Till she went to the kirk.

14 Even before that lady's yetts He found a bowing ash; And then he sat and sang thereon, Till she came frae the mass.

15 Even before that lady's window He found a bed o tyme; And then he sat and sang thereon, Till she sat down to dine.

16 Even abeen that lady's window Was fixd a siller pin; And a' the words that were tauld him, He sat and sang them in.

17 'You're bidden send your love a letter, For he has sent you five; Or he'll never send anither send, To nae woman alive.

18 'You're bidden send your love a letter, For he has sent you seven; And he'll never send anither send, To nae maid under heaven.'

19 'Sit in the hall, good ladies all, And drink the wine sae red, And I will to yon small window, And hear yon birdie's leed.

20 'Sing on, sing on, my bonny bird, The sang ye sung just now;' 'I'll sing nae mair, ye lady fair, My errand is to you.'

21 'If ye be my true-lovie's bird, Sae well's I will you ken; You will gae in at my gown-sleeve, Come out at my gown-hem.'

22 'That I am come frae your true-love, You soon shall see right plain; And read these lines below my wing, That I hae brought frae him.'

23 When she looked these lines upon, She read them, and she leuch: 'O well fails me, my true-love, now, O this I hae eneuch.

24 'Here is the broach on my breast-bane, The garlings frae my hair, Likewise the heart that is within; What woud my love hae mair?

25 'The nearest kirk in fair Scotland, Ye'll bid him meet me there:' She has gane to her dear father, Wi heart perplexd and sair.

26 When she came to her auld father, Fell low down on her knee: 'An asking, asking, father dear, I pray you grant it me.'

27 'Ask what you will, my dear daughter, And I will grant it thee; Unless to marry yon Scottish squire; That's what shall never be.'

28 'O that's the asking, father,' she said, 'That I'll neer ask of thee; But if I die in South England, In Scotland ye'll bury me.'

29 'The asking's nae sae great, daughter, But granted it shall be; And tho ye die in South England, In Scotland we'll bury thee.'

30 She has gane to her step-mother, Fell low down on her knee: 'An asking, asking, mother dear, I pray you grant it me.'

31 'Ask what ye please, my lily-white dove, And granted it shall be:' 'If I do die in South England, In Scotland bury me.'

32 'Had these words spoke been in again, I woud not granted thee; You hae a love in fair Scotland, Sae fain's you woud be tee.'

33 She scarce was to her chamber gane Nor yet was well set down, Till on the sofa where she sat Fell in a deadly swoon.

34 Her father and her seven brithers, They made for her a bier; The one half o't was gude red gowd, The other siller clear.

35 Her seven sisters were employed In making her a sark; The one half o't was cambric fine, The other needle-wark.

36 Then out it speaks her auld step-dame, Sat on the sofa's end: Ye'll drap the het lead on her cheek, Sae do you on her chin; For women will use mony a wile Their true-loves for to win.

37 Then up it raise her eldest brither, Into her bower he's gane; Then in it came her youngest brither, The het leed to drap on.

38 He drapt it by her cheek, her cheek, Sae did he by her chin; Sae did he by her comely hause; He knew life was therein.

39 The bier was made wi red gowd laid, Sae curious round about; A private entrance there contriv'd, That her breath might win out.

40 The first an kirk in fair Scotland, They gard the bells be rung; The niest an kirk in fair Scotland, They causd the mass be sung.

41 The third an kirk in fair Scotland, They passd it quietly by; The fourth an kirk in fair Scotland, Clerk Sandy did them spy.

42 'O down ye'll set this corpse o clay, Lat me look on the dead; For I may sigh, and say, alas! For death has nae remeid.'

43 Then he has cut her winding sheet A little below her chin, And wi her sweet and ruby lips She sweetly smil'd on him.

44 'Gie me a sheave o your white bread, A bottle o your wine; For I hae fasted for your sake Fully these lang days nine.

45 'Gae hame, gae hame, my seven brithers, Gae hame and blaw your trumpet; And ye may tell to your step-dame This day she is affronted.

46 'I camna here to fair Scotland To lye amo the dead; But came to be Clerk Sandy's wife, And lay gowd on my head.

47 'Gae hame, gae hame, my seven brithers, Gae hame and blaw your horn; And ye may tell in fair England In Scotland ye got the scorn.

48 'I came not here to fair Scotland To mix amang the clay; But came to be Clerk Sandy's wife, And wear gowd to my tae.'

49 'Sin ye hae gien us this ae scorn, We shall gie you anither; Ye shall hae naething to live upon But the bier that brought you hither.'

* * * * *

#A.#

Written in stanzas of two long lines.

1. In the Tytler-Brown MS.

O well's me o my gay goss hawke That he can speake and flee, Will carry a letter to my love, Bring another back to me.

#B.#

20^1. Oh.

24^1. by brothers.

#C.#

2^1. Oh.

12^2. shee.

After 16: etc., repeated as above.

After 18^2: etc., as above.

After 20: etc., as to father, mother, etc. The verses not written out (and not printed in the Minstrelsy) have been supplied accordingly.

30^2. bells altered in the MS. from mass.

26^3. clothe.

29^3. _In the Minstrelsy Motherwell has substituted ~England~ for ~Scotland~._

34^6. Motherwell prints dead ere syne.

#D.#

In his Note-Book, p. 27, Motherwell says that he got this copy of the ballad from ~Agnes Laird~; in the MS., p. 415, from ~Agnes Lyle~. Page 26 of the Note-Book shows that ~Laird~ is right.

#E.#

The edition of 1833 inserts stanza 13, and substitutes for 27, 28 the following:

Then spake her cruel step-minnie: 'Tak ye the burning lead, And drap a drap on her bosome, To try if she be dead.'

They took a drap o boiling lead, They drappd it on her breast; 'Alas, alas,' her father cried, 'She's dead without the priest!'

She neither chatterd with her teeth, Nor shiverd with her chin; 'Alas, alas,' her father cried, 'There is nae breath within!'

After 36 is inserted:

'Commend me to my grey father, That wished my saul gude rest, But wae be to my cruel step-dame, Garrd burn me on the breast.'

And ~mother~, 37^3, is changed to ~sisters~. The step-mother clearly does not belong to this ballad.

[160] Or her soul, in a copy which terminates with a miracle, Victor Smith, Chansons du Velay, etc., Romania, IV, 114: where see note 2.

[161] See Uhland, III, 109 f, 171.

[162] The contrast presented by darker ages, when cheap literature was unknown, may be seen from these verses:

Ma mie reçoit de mes lettres Par l'alouette des champs; Elle m'envoie les siennes Par le rossignol chantant.

Sans savoir lire ni écrire Nous lisons ce qui est dedans; Il y a dedans ces lettres, 'Aime moi, je t'aime tant.'

(Le Moniteur, May 27, 1853.)

[163] The "red, red lead" of #D# 7, 8 I had at first supposed to show a carelessness about epithets, like the "roses blue" of a Danish ballad. But considering that the red lead is to be rubbed on, one may ask whether some occult property of minium may have been known to the mother.

BROWN ROBIN

#A.# 'Brown Robin.' #a.# Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 37. #b.# Abbotsford MS., "Scottish Songs."

#B.# 'Love Robbie,' Christie's Traditional Ballad Airs, I, 136.

#C.# 'Brown Robyn and Mally,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 299.

'Brown Robin' was No 7 in William Tytler's Brown MS. The first stanza is cited by Anderson, Nichols's Literary Illustrations, VII, 177, and there were twenty-one stanzas, as in #A a#. #A b# may have been a copy of the Tytler-Brown version. It does not seem to have been tampered with so much as other ballads in the same manuscript. The story undoubtedly stops at the right point in #A#, with the escape of the two lovers to the wood. The sequel in #C# is not at all beyond the inventive ability of Buchan's blind beggar, and some other blind beggar may have contrived the cane and the whale, the shooting and the hanging, in #B#.

Brown Robin is lover or husband of May Margerie, or May a Roe==Lillie Flower, in 'Jellon Grame,' No 90, #B# 14, #C# 7, and again of White Lilly in 'Rose the Red and White Lilly,' No 103, #A# 7 ff.

We have money given over the wall by an eloping lady, as in #B# 4, 5, #C# 5, also in 'Willie o Douglas Dale,' No 101, #C# 4, 5.

#A# 1, nearly, is stanza 5 in Jamieson's 'Glenkindie;' see p. 141 of this volume, note to #B#.

#C# is translated by Gerhard, p. 175.

#a.# Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 37. #b.# Abbotsford MS., "Scottish Songs."

1 The king but an his nobles a'} bis Sat birling at the wine;} He would ha nane but his ae daughter To wait on them at dine.

2 She's servd them butt, she's servd them ben, Intill a gown of green, But her ee was ay on Brown Robin, That stood low under the rain.

3 She's doen her to her bigly bowr, As fast as she coud gang, An there she's drawn her shot-window, An she's harped an she sang.

4 'There sits a bird i my father's garden, An O but she sings sweet! I hope to live an see the day Whan wi my love I'll meet.'

5 'O gin that ye like me as well As your tongue tells to me, What hour o the night, my lady bright, At your bowr sal I be?'

6 'Whan my father an gay Gilbert Are baith set at the wine, O ready, ready I will be To lat my true-love in.'

7 O she has birld her father's porter Wi strong beer an wi wine, Untill he was as beastly drunk As ony wild-wood swine: She's stown the keys o her father's yates An latten her true-love in.

8 Whan night was gane, an day was come, An the sun shone on their feet, Then out it spake him Brown Robin, I'll be discoverd yet.

9 Then out it spake that gay lady: My love, ye need na doubt; For wi ae wile I've got you in, Wi anither I'll bring you out.

10 She's taen her to her father's cellar, As fast as she can fare; She's drawn a cup o the gude red wine, Hung't low down by her gare; An she met wi her father dear Just coming down the stair.

11 'I woud na gi that cup, daughter, That ye hold i your han For a' the wines in my cellar, An gantrees whare the stan.'

12 'O wae be to your wine, father, That ever't came oer the sea; 'T'is pitten my head in sick a steer I my bowr I canna be.'

13 'Gang out, gang out, my daughter dear, Gang out an tack the air; Gang out an walk i the good green wood, An a' your marys fair.'

14 Then out it spake the proud porter-- Our lady wishd him shame-- We'll send the marys to the wood, But we'll keep our lady at hame.'

15 'There's thirty marys i my bowr, There's thirty o them an three; But there's nae ane amo them a' Kens what flowr gains for me.'

16 She's doen her to her bigly bowr, As fast as she could gang, An she has dresst him Brown Robin Like ony bowr-woman.

17 The gown she pat upon her love Was o the dainty green, His hose was o the saft, saft silk, His shoon o the cordwain fine.

18 She's pitten his bow in her bosom, His arrow in her sleeve, His sturdy bran her body next, Because he was her love.

19 Then she is unto her bowr-door, As fast as she coud gang; But out it spake the proud porter-- Our lady wishd him shame-- We'll count our marys to the wood, An we'll count them back again.'

20 The firsten mary she sent out Was Brown Robin by name; Then out it spake the king himsel, 'This is a sturdy dame.'

21 O she went out in a May morning, In a May morning so gay, But she came never back again, Her auld father to see.

Christie's Traditional Ballad Airs, I, 136, from the recitation of an old woman in Buckie, Enzie, Banffshire.

1 'A feathered fowl's in your orchard, father, O dear, but it sings sweet! What would I give, my father dear, That bonnie bird to meet!' What would I give, etc.

2 'O hold your tongue, my daughter Mary, Let a' your folly be; There's six Scots lords tomorrow, child, That will a' dine wi me, And ye maun serve them a', Mary, As't were for meat and fee.'

3 She served them up, sae has she down, The footmen a' the same, But her mind was aye on Love Robbie, Stood out below the rain.

4 A hundred pun o pennies roun, Tied in a towel so sma, She has gien to him Love Robbie, Out oer the castle-wa; Says, Tak ye that, my love Robbie. And mysel ye may hae.

5 A hundred pun o pennies roun, Tied in a napkin white, She has gien to him Love Robbie, Out oer the garden-dyke; Says, Tak ye that, my Love Robbie, And mysel gin ye like.

6 'If this be true ye tell to me, As your tongue woudna lee, I shall be in your bigly bower Before the clock strike three; I shall be in your bigly bower, Dressd like a gay ladye.'

7 When bells were rung, and mass was sung, And all men bound for bed, Love Robbie came to Mary's bower, Dressd like a comely maid.

8 They had not kissd nor love clappëd, As lovers when they meet, Till sighing said he Love Robbie, My life, my life I doubt.

9 'Your life, your life, you Love Robbie, Your life you needna doubt; For it was wiles brought in Robbie, And wiles will lat him out.'

10 Then in it came her father dear, And stood upon the floor, And she filld the cup of good red wine, Said, Father, will ye drink more?

11 'O better I love the cup, Mary, The cup that's in your hand, Than all my barrels full of wine, On the gantrees where they stand.'

12 'O woe be to your wine, father, It eer came oer the sea! If I getna the air o good greenwood O I will surely dee.'

13 'There's seven maries in your bower, There's seven o them and three, And I'll send them to good greenwood, For flowers to shortsome thee.'

14 'There's seven maries in my bower, There's seven o them and three, But there's nae a mary mang them a' Can pu flowers to shortsome me:' 'Then by my sooth,' said her father dear, 'Let yoursel gang them wi.'

15 She dressd hersel in the royal red, Love Robbie was in dainty green; Love Robbie's brand was about his middle, And he shone like ony queen.

16 The firsten ane that took the floor, Love Robbie was that ane: 'Now by my sooth,' said the proud porter, 'She is a sonsie dame; I would not care now very much To turn her in again.'

17 'I'd fain see any woman or man, Of high or low degree, Would turn a mary in again That once came out with me.'

18 They had not been in good greenwood, Pu'd a flower but only three, Till the porter stood behind a bush, And shot him Love Robbie.

19 Now word has come to her father dear, In the chamber where he lay, Lady Mary's sick in good greenwood, And cannot come away.

20 He's taen his mantle him about, His cane into his han, And he is on to good greenwood, As fast as he could gang.

21 'O want you fish out o the fleed, Or whale out o the sea? Or is there any one alive This day has angerd thee?'

22 'I want not fish out o the fleed, Nor whale out o the sea; But woe be to your proud porter, Sae sair's he's angerd me! He's shot the fairest flower this day, That would hae comfort me.'

23 'O hold your tongue, my daughter Mary, Let a' your folly be; Tomorrow ere I eat or drink High hangëd shall he be.'

Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 299.

1 'There is a bird in my father's orchard, And dear, but it sings sweet! I hope to live to see the day This bird and I will meet.'

2 'O hold your tongue, my daughter Mally, Let a' your folly be; What bird is that in my orchard Sae shortsome is to thee?

3 'There are four-an-twenty noble lords The morn shoud dine wi me; And ye maun serve them a', Mally, Like one for meat and fee.'

4 She servd the nobles all as one, The horsemen much the same; But her mind was aye to Brown Robyn, Beneath the heavy rain.

5 Then she's rowd up a thousand pounds Intil a servit white, And she gae that to Brown Robyn, Out ower the garden-dyke: Says, Take ye that, my love Robyn, And mysell gin ye like.

6 'If this be true, my dame,' he said, 'That ye hae tauld to me, About the hour o twall at night, At your bower-door I'll be.'

7 But ere the hour o twall did chap, And lang ere it was ten, She had hersell there right and ready To lat Brown Robyn in.

8 They hadna kissd nor love clapped Till the birds sang on the ha; 'O,' sighing says him Brown Robyn, 'I wish I were awa!'

9 They hadna sitten muckle langer Till the guards shot ower the way; Then sighing says him Brown Robyn, 'I fear my life this day.'

10 'O had your tongue, my love Robyn, Of this take ye nae doubt; It was by wiles I brought you in, By wiles I'll bring you out.'

11 Then she's taen up a cup o wine, To her father went she; 'O drink the wine, father,' she said, 'O drink the wine wi me.'

12 'O well love I the cup, daughter, But better love I the wine; And better love I your fair body Than a' the gowd in Spain.'

13 'Wae be to the wine, father, That last came ower the sea; Without the air o gude greenwood, There's nae remeid for me.'

14 'Ye've thirty maries in your bower, Ye've thirty and hae three; Send ane o them to pu a flower, Stay ye at hame wi me.'

15 'I've thirty maries in my bower, I've thirty o them and nine; But there's nae a marie amo them a' That kens my grief and mind.

16 'For they may pu the nut, the nut, And sae may they the slae, But there's nane amo them a' that kens The herb that I woud hae.'

17 'Well, gin ye gang to gude greenwood, Come shortly back again; Ye are sae fair and are sae rare, Your body may get harm.'

18 She dressd hersell into the red, Brown Robyn all in green, And put his brand across his middle, He was a stately dame.

19 The first ane stepped ower the yett, It was him Brown Robyn; 'By my sooth,' said the proud porter, 'This is a stately dame.

20 'O wi your leave, lady,' he said, 'And leave o a' your kin, I woudna think it a great sin To turn that marie in.'

21 'O had your tongue, ye proud porter, Let a' your folly be; Ye darena turn a marie in That ance came forth wi me.'

22 'Well shall I call your maries out, And as well shall I in; For I am safe to gie my oath That marie is a man.'

23 Soon she went to gude greenwood, And soon came back again; 'Gude sooth,' replied the proud porter, 'We've lost our stately dame.'

24 'My maid's faen sick in gude greenwood, And sick and liken to die; The morn before the cocks do craw, That marie I maun see.'

25 Out it spake her father then, Says, Porter, let me know If I will cause her stay at hame, Or shall I let her go?

26 'She says her maid's sick in the wood, And sick and like to die; I really think she is too gude Nor ever woud make a lie.'

27 Then he whispered in her ear, As she was passing by, 'What will ye say if I reveal What I saw wi my eye?'

28 'If ought ye ken about the same, O heal that well on me, And if I live or brook my life, Rewarded ye shall be.'

29 Then she got leave o her father To gude greenwood again, And she is gane wi Brown Robyn, But't was lang ere she came hame.

30 O then her father began to mourn, And thus lamented he: 'O I woud gie ten thousand pounds My daughter for to see.'

31 'If ye will promise,' the porter said, 'To do nae injury, I will find out your daughter dear, And them that's gane her wi.'

32 Then he did swear a solemn oath, By a' his gowd and land, Nae injury to them's be dune, Whether it be maid or man.

33 The porter then a letter wrote, And seald it wi his hand, And sent it to that lady fair, For to return hame.

34 When she came to her father's ha, He received her joyfullie, And married her to Brown Robyn; Now a happy man was he.

35 She hadna been in her father's ha A day but barely three, Till she settled the porter well for life, Wi gowd and white monie.

* * * * *

#A. a.#

Written in stanzas of two long lines. The first stanza, as given by Anderson, is:

The king Val(?) and his nobles a' Sat drinking at the wine; He woud ha nane but his ae daughter To wait on them at dine.

18^1. boson: the king's daughter must have been "a sturdy dame" too.

21^2. so gray. The sun was up: see stanza 8.

#b.#

1^2. Were drinking.

2^1. She served them butt.

2^2. Baith knights and gallants sheen.

2^3. was still.

3^2. might gang.

3^3. And she has.

4^1. in yonder tree.

4^2. vow but he.

4^4. my love and I shall.

5^1. Gin ye luve me as weel, fair maid.

6^1. my auld father.

6^2. Sit drinking.

6^3. will I.

7^1. has hired the proud porter.

7^2. Wi the ale but and the.

7^{5, 6}. She's slipped aff hir silken sheen, And saftly trippd she down; She's stown the key o hir father's yate, And let hir true love in.

8^2. shined.

8^3. out and spake.

9^1. O out and spake.

9^3. As wi ae wile I hae brought.

10^{1, 2}. wanting.

10^5. she has met her auld.

10^6. Came creeping up.

11. wanting.

12^2. ever it crossd.

12^3. It has put.

12^4. canna stay.

13^4. Wi a'

14^1. and spake.

14^2. send him.

14^4. But keep the princess.

15^4. flowr's gude.

16^1. hied her.

16^2. Sae fast as she might.

16^{3, 4}. She's putten a goun upon hir love Was of the dainty green.

17^{1, 2}. The girdle round his stately waist Wi gowd and silver shone.

17^3. His stockings o.

17^4. And his shune o the cordovan.

18^1. She put.

18^2. up her.

18^3. her fair side next.

19. wanting.

20^3. By the faith o my body, then said the king.

20^4. a lusty.

21^1. gaed out.

21^2. sae gay.

BROWN ADAM

#A.# 'Brown Adam,' Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 17.

#B.# 'Broun Edom,' Harris MS., fol. 27 b, No 26.

#C.# 'Brown Adam the Smith,' Buchan MSS, I, 46.

'Brown Adam' was No 14 of the fifteen ballads furnished William Tytler by Mrs Brown in 1783: Anderson, in Nichols's Illustrations, VII, 178. The ballad was first printed in the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, II, 16, 1802, with the omission of Mrs Brown's second stanza, and some changes. Scott remarks that he had seen a copy printed on a single sheet.

#C# 1, 3, 6, 7 are very close to #A# 1, 2, 3, 4. #A# 2 was not printed by Scott, and if these stanzas were borrowed, #A# 2 must have been taken from the Jamieson MS., to which other cases of correspondence warrant a suspicion that one of Buchan's contributors had access. #C# has the usual marks of Buchan's copies, great length, vulgarity, and such extravagance and absurdity as are found in stanzas 23, 26, 29.

A Danish ballad, from manuscripts of the sixteenth century and later, has a remote likeness to 'Brown Adam:' 'Den afhugne Haand,' Grundtvig, No 199, IV, 153. Lawi Pedersøn, who has shown bad faith to women, makes love to Lutzelil, who knows his ways, and rejects him summarily. Lawi rides off in wrath, saying that she shall be sorry for it. The maid is afraid to go to church for nine months, but ventures at Easter. Lawi stops her in a wood. She begs him to do her no harm, feigns to be amenable, and gives him an assignation at an off-lying apartment in which she sleeps with her maids; then rides away, laughing over her successful evasion. She tells her father how she has met Lawi, and begs him to be on the watch. Lawi comes at night, knocks, and is answered, according to the formula of Danish ballads, that she has made no appointment and he cannot come in. Lawi threatens to take off the door, and does so. Lutzelil's father is standing ready with his sword, and cuts off Lawi's hand.

* * * * *

The copy in Scott's Minstrelsy is translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og skotske Folkeviser, No 45, p. 291; by Schubart, p. 65; Arndt, Blütenlese, p. 231; Rosa Warrens, Schottische Volkslieder, No 29, p. 130; Knortz, Schottische Balladen, No 2, p. 5.

Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 17.

1 O wha woud wish the win to blaw, Or the green leaves fa therewith? Or wha wad wish a leeler love Than Brown Adam the Smith?

2 His hammer's o the beaten gold, His study's o the steel, His fingers white are my delite, He blows his bellows well.

3 But they ha banishd him Brown Adam Frae father and frae mither, An they ha banishd him Brown Adam Frae sister and frae brither.

4 And they ha banishd Brown Adam Frae the flowr o a' his kin; An he's biggit a bowr i the good green wood Betwen his lady an him.

5 O it fell once upon a day Brown Adam he thought lang, An he woud to the green wood gang, To hunt some venison.

6 He's ta'en his bow his arm oer, His bran intill his han, And he is to the good green wood, As fast as he coud gang.

7 O he's shot up, an he's shot down, The bird upo the briar, An he's sent it hame to his lady, Bade her be of good cheer.

8 O he's shot up, an he's shot down, The bird upo the thorn, And sent it hame to his lady, And hee'd be hame the morn.

9 Whan he came till his lady's bowr-door He stood a little foreby, And there he heard a fu fa'se knight Temptin his gay lady.

10 O he's taen out a gay gold ring, Had cost him mony a poun: 'O grant me love for love, lady, An this sal be your own.'

11 'I loo Brown Adam well,' she says, 'I wot sae does he me; An I woud na gi Brown Adam's love For nae fa'se knight I see.'

12 Out has he ta'en a purse of gold, Was a' fu to the string: 'Grant me but love for love, lady, An a' this sal be thine.'

13 'I loo Brown Adam well,' she says, 'An I ken sae does he me; An I woudna be your light leman For mair nor ye coud gie.'

14 Then out has he drawn his lang, lang bran, And he's flashd it in her een: 'Now grant me love for love, lady, Or thro you this sal gang!'

15 'O,' sighing said that gay lady, 'Brown Adam tarrys lang!' Then up it starts Brown Adam, Says, I'm just at your han.

16 He's gard him leave his bow, his bow, He's gard him leave his bran; He's gard him leave a better pledge, Four fingers o his right han.

Harris MS., fol. 27 b, No 26.

1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . For wha ere had a lealer luve Than Broun Edom the smith?

2 His studie was o the beaten gowd, His hammer o the pith; His cords waur o the gude green silk, That blew his bellows with.

3 It fell out ance upon a time Broun Edom he thoucht lang, That he wald gae to see his luve, By the le licht o the mune.

Buchan MSS, I, 46.

1 O wha woud wish the win to blaw, The green leaves fa therewith? O wha would wish a leeler luve Than Brown Adam the Smith?

2 O he forsook the royal court, And knights and lords sae gude, And he is to the black smithy, To learn to shoe a steed.

3 His hammer-shaft o gude red gowd, His studdy o the steel, His fingers whyte, and maids' delight, And blaws his bellows weel.

4 He being a favourite with the king Caused him get mony a fae, And sae their plots they did contrive To work him grief and wae.

5 Of treason then he was accused By his fause enemie, Which caused the king to make a vow That banishd he shoud be.

6 Then banishd hae they Brown Adam Frae father and frae mither, And banishd hae they him Brown Adam Frae sister and frae brither.

7 And they hae banishd him Brown Adam, The flower o a' his kin; He built a bower in gude green wood, For his true love and him.

8 But it fell ance upon a day The king's young son thought lang, And minded him on Brown Adam, Oft rade on his right han.

9 Then he sent for him Brown Adam, To shoe his milk-white steed, That he might see him ance in court, Mang knights o noble bleed.

10 When Brown Adam he read these lines, A light laugh then gae hee: 'What's this that's made their hearts to fa, They lang sae sair for mee?'

11 Then out it speaks his gay ladye: Brown Adam, bide wi mee; For if ye gang to court, I fear Your face I'll never see.

12 'Cheer up your heart, my ain true-love, Let naething cause your grief; Though I be absent for some days, Ye seen will get relief.'

13 Then he has kissd his gay ladye, And rade alang the lay, And hunted a' the wild birds there, As he rade on the way.

14 He shot the bunting o the bush, The linnet o the brier, And sent them on to gude green wood, His ladye's heart to cheer.

15 He shot the bunting o the bush, The linnet o the wand, And sent them on to his ladye, Forbade her to think lang.

16 He shot the bunting o the bush, The linnet o the thorn, And sent them on to his ladye, Said he'd be hame the morn.

17 A thought then came into his mind, As he rade on the way, Some evil in his absence might Befa his ladye gay.

18 Now when he had the prince' steed shod, And bound again to ryde, He turned his horse to Ringlewood; Some days he meant to byde.

19 But when he turned to Ringlewood, Ae foot's horse woudna ryde; Whan he turned to his luver's bower, He flew like ony glyde.

20 When he drew near to his luve's bower, There he alighted down, For the hearing o his great horse tramp Ere he wan to the town.

21 Whan he came to his luver's bower, He heard a dolefu din; He wasna aware o a fu fause knight, His true-love's bower within.

22 He bound his steed to his ain stall, And gae him corn and hay, And listened at a shott-window, To hear what he would say.

23 The first and thing the knight drew out, It was a coffer fine; It was as fu o gude black silk, Make ladyes for to shine.

24 'Ye are too lack o luve, ladye, And that's a hatefu thing; Luve me, and lat Brown Adam be, And a' this shall be thine.'

25 'O well I like Brown Adam,' she said, 'I wyte hee hates nae mee; I winna forsake him Brown Adam For a' your gifts an thee.'

26 The next and thing the knight drew out, It was a coffer small; It was as fou o shambo gluves, Woud had her hands frae caul.

27 'Ye are too lack o luve, ladye, An that's a hatefu thing; Luve me, an lat Brown Adam be, An a' this shall be thine.'

28 'O well like I Brown Adam,' she said, 'I'm sure he hates nae me; I winna forsake him Brown Adam For a' your gifts an thee.'

29 The next and thing the knight drew out It was a coffer fine; It was as fu of gude red gowd As a guinea coud get in.

30 'You are too lack o luve, ladye, And that's a hatefu thing; Luve me, and lat Brown Adam be, And a' this shall be thine.'

31 'O well I like Brown Adam,' she said, 'I'm sure hee hates nae mee; I winna forsake him Brown Adam For a' the gowd ye 'll gie.'

32 Then his mild mood did quickly change, And grew mair fierce and cruel, And then drew out a trusty brand, Which made her heart to pruel.

33 'Since I by you am slighted sae, Since I frae you maun part, I swear a vow before I gae, That this shall pierce your heart.'

34 'But still I like Brown Adam,' she said, 'I wat hee hates nae mee; And if he knew my troubles now At my call woud hee be.

35 'Although he were sax miles awa, He'd seen be at my han; But wae is me, sae may I say, Brown Adam tarries lang!'

36 He hit the door then wi his foot, Made a' the bands to flee: 'Cheer up your heart, my luve Janet, Your love's nae far frae thee.'

37 Then he drew out a trusty brand, And chassd him thro the ha; The knight jumpd to a shott-window, And woud hae been awa.

38 'Stay still, stay still,' Brown Adam said, 'Make nae sic haste frae mee; You or I maun rue the race That I came ower the lee.'

39 Then frae the knight he's taen a wad, His mantle and his brand; Likewise he's taen anither wad, His sword and his sword-hand.

40 He threw him ower the shott-window, Bade him lie there wi care, And never come back to gude green wood To marr fair ladies mair.

41 'O I am brown,' said Brown Adam, 'And I was never whyte; But my love has robes o different hues, To wear at her delyght.

42 'Her kirchies be o cambricks fine, Wi gowd pinnd to the chin; Her robes shall be o the scarlet hue She shall gang daily in.'

* * * * *

#A.#

Anderson cites the first stanza, in exact agreement with the Jamieson MS., except that the third line begins with ~O~.

3^2. mother (?).

7^4. Beede (?).

15^2. long.

JOHNIE SCOT

#A.# 'Jack, the Little Scot,' Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 5.

#B.# 'McNaughtan,' Glenriddell MSS, XI, 78.

#C.# 'Johnie Scot,' Motherwell's MS., p. 213.

#D.# 'Johnnie Scot,' Motherwell's MS., p. 205.

#E.# 'McNachton,' Motherwell's MS., p. 113.

#F.# 'Bonnie Johnie Scot,' Motherwell's MS., p. 211.

#G.# 'Johnie Scott,' Motherwell's Note-Book, p. 35; Motherwell's MS., p. 394.

#H.# 'Love Johny,' Kinloch MSS, VI, 53.

#I.# 'Johnie Buneftan,' Kinloch MSS, VII, 39, 41, 43, 45, 47, 49.

#J.# Kinloch MSS, VII, 40, 42, 46, 49.

#K.# 'Johnie, the Little Scot,' Kinloch MSS, I, 311.

#L.# 'Johnnie Scott,' Campbell MSS, I, 57.

#M.# 'Lord Johnnie Scott,' Campbell MSS, II, 335.

#N.# 'Lord John,' Buchan's Gleanings, p. 122.

#O.# 'Johnie Scot,' communicated by Mr Macmath.

#P.# Motherwell's Note-Book, p. 11.

#A# was No 2 of the fifteen ballads in William Tytler's lost Brown MS.: Nichols's Illustrations, VII, 176. There is a copy of #A# in the Abbotsford MS., "Scottish Songs," fol. 24, with many wilful alterations and a few readings from tradition. The ballad printed in Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 204, is a compound of #C#, #D#, #E#, and the one in Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 77, is made up from #I#, #J#, "recited versions obtained in the north and west" of Scotland, with some slight changes.

The story of 'Willie o Winsbury,' No 100, has considerable resemblance to that of 'Johnie Scot,' but Willie's extreme beauty moves the king, the lady's father, to offer his daughter to him in marriage, without a combat. Mrs Brown's version of 'Willie o Douglas Dale,' No 101, #A#, begins with the first stanza of her version of 'Johnie Scot,' #A#. So does 'Young Betrice,' another ballad of hers, No 5 of William Tytler's MS.:

Young Betrice was as brave a knight As ever saild the sea, And he's taen him to the court of France, To serve for meat and fee.

Anderson, who cites this stanza, Nichols's Illustrations, as above, remarks: "The conduct of the story is different from that of No 2 ['Jack, the Little Scot'], which it resembles. Some of the lines are in 'Gil Morrice.'" 'Young Betrice' may possibly be a variety of 'Hugh Spencer:' see 'Hugh Spencer,' #C#.

There is resemblance to 'Child Maurice,' No 83, besides the commonplace of the messenger-boy, in the sending of a token to the lady, #A# 12, 13, #D# 6, #E# 2, #H# 4, 5, #J# 4, #M# 8, #N# 11, 12; 'Child Maurice,' #A# 7, 8, #B# 3, 4, #C# 3, 4, 5, #D#, #E# 6, 7, #F# 17, 18. In the present ballad the token is a sark of silk (#M# 8, simply shirt); so in 'Child Maurice,' #D# 7, #F# 18. The blessing on the errand-boy, #A# 8, is found in 'Fair Mary of Wallington,' No 91, #B# 9.

While John, the Scot, is in service at the English court, the king's daughter becomes with child to him. She is thrown into prison. Johnie, who has fled to Scotland, sends a messenger to her with a token which she will recognize, urging her to come to him. An answer is returned that she is in chains. Johnie resolves to go to the rescue. He is warned of the danger, but a body of Scots attends him, five hundred men, #A-D#, #O#, twenty-four, #E#, #G#, #I#; all unmarried, #B#, #D#, #E#, #G#, #H#, #I#, #O#. When he arrives at the English court, the king asks his name. His name is Pitnachton, #A# 26; McNaughtan, #B# 17, #E# 14, cf. #C# 16; Auchney, #H# 21; Buneftan, #I# 14; Johnie Scot, Love John, #C# 17, #K# 12, #L# 13, #N# 26; Earl Hector, #D# 18. The king will hang the Scot on his daughter's account. Resistance is threatened by Johnie's friends. The king has a champion who will fight them three by three, #A# 29, #B# 20, #E# 18, #F# 17, #N# 30. This champion is an Italian, #A# 29, #I# 17, #L# 16, #N# 31, #O# 8; an Itilian, #H# 27; Talliant, Tailliant, #C# 22, #D# 23, #F# 17, #G# 16. The Scot kills the Italian in a duel. In #C# 24, #D# 25, #F# 19, #G# 18, the Italian jumps over Johnie's head, skims over it like a swallow, and is apparently run through while so doing. Johnie calls for a priest to marry his love and him, the king for a clerk to write the tocher. But tocher is refused by the Scot, who wants only his dearly won lady.

The champion is described in #A# 31 as a gurious (grugous, gruous?) ghost; in #H# 27 as a greecy (frightful) ghost; in #L# 18 he is a fearsome sight, with three women's-spans between his brows and three yards between his shoulders; in the Abbotsford copy of #A#, 29, 30, a grisly sight, with a span between his eyes, between his shoulders three and three, and Johnie scarcely reaching his knee. These points are probably taken from another and a later ballad, which is perhaps an imitation, and might almost be called a parody, of Johnie Scot, 'Lang Johnny Moir:' see Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 248.

The process of striping a sword oer a stane or to the stran, #N# 28, #H# 28, striking it across the plain, #A# 32, #K# 14, is that of whetting or wiping, already noted under No 81, II, 243 f. To the places cited there may be added 'Child Maurice,' #F# 30, 'Jellon Grame,' No 90, #B# 8, 21, #C# 14, 'The Baffled Knight,' No 112, #A# 10. #G# 20^2 is a manifest corruption, a repetition of 17^2; #K# 14 has been corrected, in conformity with #A# 32.

The Rev. Andrew Hall, in his Interesting Roman Antiquities recently discovered in Fife, 1823, p. 216, relates the following story, on traditional authority.[164] James Macgill, of Lindores, had killed Sir Robert Balfour, of Denmiln, in a duel which he had wished to avoid, about the year 1679. Macgill "immediately went up to London in order to procure his pardon, which it seems the king, Charles the Second, offered to grant him upon condition of his fighting an Italian gladiator or bravo, or, as he was then called, a bully; which, it is said, none could be found to do.... Accordingly a large stage was erected for the exhibition before the king and court.... Sir James, it is said, stood on the defensive till the bully had spent himself a little, being a taller man than Sir James. In his mighty gasconading and bravadoing he actually leaped over the knight as if he would swallow him alive, but in attempting to do this a second time Sir James run his sword up through him, and then called out, 'I have spitted him; let them roast him who will.' This not only procured his pardon, but he was also knighted on the spot."

The exploit of Johnie Scot, and, if you please, of Sir James Macgill, has been achieved as well on the south side of the English Channel. The Breton seigneur Les Aubrays, or Lizandré, of St Brieux, is ordered by the French king to undertake a combat with his wild Moor. Les Aubrays asks a page, who brings the king's command, about the Moor's fashion of fighting. The Moor is master of devilish magic, and has herbs about him by virtue of which any wounds he may get are soon healed. The Breton is told, among other things, that he must throw holy water at the Moor the moment the savage draws, and when the Moor makes a leap in the air he must receive him on the point of his sword. These instructions are followed with perfect success. When the Moor is "swimming" in the air, Lizandré so disposes his sword as to take him on it. Luzel, 'Lezobre,' etc., 'Les Aubrays et le More du Roi,' second and third versions, I, 300-03, 294, 295; 'Le Géant Lizandré II, 568-71, 'Le Géant Les Aubrays,' 576-79; Poésies populaires de la France, MS., vol. i, near the beginning. Though the brave Breton is called giant in the title of Luzel's last two versions, nothing is said in the ballads of his being of unusual proportions. He is victorious in nineteen fights, but it is because of his profuse liberality to St Anne; it borders on the irreligious, therefore, to call him a giant.[165]

* * * * *

The copy in Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 204, is translated by Wolff, Halle der Völker, I, 15, Hausschatz, p. 210.

Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 5.

1 O Johney was as brave a knight As ever saild the sea, An he's done him to the English court, To serve for meat and fee.

2 He had nae been in fair England But yet a little while, Untill the kingis ae daughter To Johney proves wi chil.

3 O word's come to the king himsel, In his chair where he sat, That his ae daughter was wi bairn To Jack, the Little Scott.

4 'Gin this be true that I do hear, As I trust well it be, Ye pit her into prison strong, An starve her till she die.'

5 O Johney's on to fair Scotland, A wot he went wi speed, An he has left the kingis court, A wot good was his need.

6 O it fell once upon a day That Johney he thought lang, An he's gane to the good green wood, As fast as he coud gang.

7 'O whare will I get a bonny boy, To rin my errand soon, That will rin into fair England, An haste him back again?'

8 O up it starts a bonny boy, Gold yallow was his hair, I wish his mither meickle joy, His bonny love mieckle mair.

9 'O here am I, a bonny boy, Will rin your errand soon; I will gang into fair England, An come right soon again.'

10 O whan he came to broken briggs, He bent his bow and swam; An whan he came to the green grass growan, He slaikid his shoone an ran.

11 Whan he came to yon high castèl, He ran it roun about, An there he saw the king's daughter, At the window looking out.

12 'O here's a sark o silk, lady, Your ain han sewd the sleeve; You'r bidden come to fair Scotlan, Speer nane o your parents leave.

13 'Ha, take this sark o silk, lady, Your ain han sewd the gare; You're bidden come to good green wood, Love Johney waits you there.'

14 She's turnd her right and roun about, The tear was in her ee: 'How can I come to my true-love, Except I had wings to flee?

15 'Here am I kept wi bars and bolts, Most grievous to behold; My breast-plate's o the sturdy steel, Instead of the beaten gold.

16 'But tak this purse, my bonny boy, Ye well deserve a fee, An bear this letter to my love, An tell him what you see.'

17 Then quickly ran the bonny boy Again to Scotlan fair, An soon he reachd Pitnachton's towrs, An soon found Johney there.

18 He pat the letter in his han An taul him what he sa, But eer he half the letter read, He loote the tears doun fa.

19 'O I will gae back to fair Englan, Tho death shoud me betide, An I will relieve the damesel That lay last by my side.'

20 Then out it spake his father dear, My son, you are to blame; An gin you'r catchd on English groun, I fear you'll neer win hame.

21 Then out it spake a valiant knight, Johny's best friend was he; I can commaun five hunder men, An I'll his surety be.

22 The firstin town that they came till, They gard the bells be rung; An the nextin town that they came till, They gard the mess be sung.

23 The thirdin town that they came till, They gard the drums beat roun; The king but an his nobles a' Was startld at the soun.

24 Whan they came to the king's palace They rade it roun about, An there they saw the king himsel, At the window looking out.

25 'Is this the Duke o Albany, Or James, the Scottish king? Or are ye some great foreign lord, That's come a visiting?'

26 'I'm nae the Duke of Albany, Nor James, the Scottish king; But I'm a valiant Scottish knight, Pitnachton is my name.'

27 'O if Pitnachton be your name, As I trust well it be, The morn, or I tast meat or drink, You shall be hanged hi.'

28 Then out it spake the valiant knight That came brave Johney wi; Behold five hunder bowmen bold, Will die to set him free.

29 Then out it spake the king again, An a scornfu laugh laugh he; I have an Italian i my house Will fight you three by three.

30 'O grant me a boon,' brave Johney cried; 'Bring your Italian here; Then if he fall beneath my sword, I've won your daughter dear.'

31 Then out it came that Italian, An a gurious ghost was he; Upo the point o Johney's sword This Italian did die.

32 Out has he drawn his lang, lang bran, Struck it across the plain: 'Is there any more o your English dogs That you want to be slain?'

33 'A clark, a clark,' the king then cried, 'To write her tocher free;' 'A priest, a priest,' says Love Johney, 'To marry my love and me.

34 'I'm seeking nane o your gold,' he says, 'Nor of your silver clear; I only seek your daughter fair, Whose love has cost her dear.'

Glenriddell MSS, XI, 78: 1791.

1 Johnny's into England gane, Three quarters of a year; Johnny's into England gane, The king's banner to bear.

2 He had na been in England lang, But and a little while, Untill the king's daughter To Johnny gaes wi child.

3 Word is to the kitchin gane, And word is to the ha, And word is to the king's palace, Amang the nobles a'.

4 Word's gane to the king's palace, The palace where she sat, That his ae daughter gaes wi child To Jock, the Little Scot.

5 'If she be wi child,' he says, 'As I trow well she be, I'll put her into strang prison, And hang her till she die.'

6 But up and spak young Johnny, And O he spake in time: Is there never a bony boy here Will rin my errand soon?

7 That will gae to yon castle, And look it round about? And there he'll see a fair lady, The window looking out.

8 Up then spak a bony boy, And a bony boy was he: I'll run thy errand, Johnny, he said, Untill the day I die.

9 'Put on your gown o silk, madam, And on your hand a glove, And gang into the good green-wood, To Johnny, your true-love.'

10 'The fetters they are on my feet, And O but they are cauld! My bracelets they are sturdy steel, Instead of beaten gold.

11 'But I will write a lang letter, And seal it tenderlie, And I will send to my true-love, Before that I do die.'

12 The first look that Johnny lookd, A loud laughter gae he; But the next look that Johnny gae, The tear blinded his ee.

13 He says, I'll into England gae, Whatever may betide, And a' to seek a fair woman That sud hae been my bride.

14 But up and speaks his father, And O he spak in time: If that ye into England gae, I'm feerd ye neer come hame.

15 But up then speaks our gude Scotch king, And a brisk young man was he: He's hae five hunder o my life-guard, To bear him companie.

16 When Johnny was on saddle set, And seemly for to see, There was not a married man Into his companie.

17 When Johnny sat on saddle-seat, And seemly to behold, The hair that hang on Johnny's head Was like the threads o gold.

18 When he cam to ... He gard the bells a' ring, Untill the king and a' his court Did marvel at the thing.

19 'Is this the brave Argyle,' he said, 'That's landed and come hame? Is this the brave Argyle,' he said, 'Or James, our Scottish king?'

20 'It's no the brave Argyle,' they said, 'That's landed and come hame; But it is a brave young Scottish knight, M^cNaughtan is his name.'

21 'If M^cNaughtan be his name,' he says, 'As I trow weel it be, The fairest lady in a' my court Gangs wi child to thee.'

22 'If that she be wi child,' he says, 'As I wat weel she be, I'll mak it lord o a' my land, And her my gay lady.'

23 'I have a champion in my court Will fight you a' by three;' But up then speaks a brisk young man, And a brisk young man was he: I will fight to my life's end, Before poor Johnny die.

24 The king but and his nobles a' Went out into the plain, The queen but and her maidens a', To see young Johnny slain.

25 The first wound that Johnny gae the champion Was a deep wound and sair; The next wound that he gae the champion, He never spak mair.

26 'A priest, a priest,' young Johnny cries, 'To wed me and my love;' 'A clerk, a clerk,' the king he cries, 'To sign her tocher gude.'

27 'I'll hae nane o your goud,' he says, 'I'll hae nane o your gear, But a' I want is my true-love, For I hae bought her dear.'

28 He took out a little goat-horn, And blew baith loud and shill; The victry's into Scotland gane, Tho sair against their will.

Motherwell's MS., p. 213: from the recitation of Mrs Thomson, Kilbarchan.

1 O Johnie's to the hunting gone, Unto the woods sae wild, And Earl Percy's old daughter To Johnie goes with child.

2 O word is to the kitchen gone, And word is to the ha, And word is to the highest towers, Amang the nobles a'.

3 'If she be with child,' her father said, 'As woe forbid it be, I'll put her into a prison strong, And try the veritie.'

4 'But if she be with child,' her mother said, 'As woe forbid it be, I'll put her intil a dungeon dark, And hunger her till she die.'

5 Then she has wrote a braid letter, And sealed it wi her hand, And sent it to the merry green wood, Wi her own boy at command.

6 The first line of the letter he read, His heart was full of joy; But he had not read a line past two Till the salt tears blind his eye.

7 'O I must up to England go, What ever me betide, For to relieve that fair ladie That lay last by my side.'

8 Out and spak his father then, And he spak all in time: Johnie, if ye to England go, I fear ye'll neer return.

9 But out and spak his uncle then, And he spak bitterlie: Five hundred of my good life-guards Shall go along with thee.

10 When they were mounted on their steeds, They were comely to behold; The hair that hung owre Johnie's shoulders Was like the yellow gold.

11 The first town that they came to, They made the bells to ring; And when they rode the town all owre, They made the trumpets sound.

12 When they came to Earl Percy's gates, They rode them round about, And who saw he but his own true-love, At a window looking out!

13 'The doors they are bolted with iron and steel, The windows round about; My feet they are in fetters strong; And how can I get out?

14 'My garters they are of the lead, And oh but they be cold! My breast-plate's of the beaten steel, Instead of beaten gold.'

15 But when they came to Earl Percy's yett, They tirled at the pin; None was so ready as Earl Percy To open and let them in.

16 'Art thou the King of Aulsberry, Or art thou the King of Spain? Or art thou one of our gay Scots lords, M^cNachtan by thy name?'

17 'I'm not the King of Aulsberry, Nor yet the King of Spain; But I am one of our gay Scots lords, Johnie Scot I am called by name.'

18 'If Johnie Scot be thy name,' he said, 'As I trow weel it be, The fairest lady in a' our court Gaes big with child to thee.'

19 'If she be with child,' fair Johnie said, 'As I trow weel she be, I'll make it heir owre a' my land, And her my gay ladie.'

20 'But if she be with child,' her father said, 'As I trow weel she be, Tomorrow morn again eight o clock High hanged thou shalt be.'

21 But out and spak his uncle then, And he spak bitterlie: Before that we see Johnie Scot slain, We'll a' fight till we die.

22 'But is there ever a Tailliant about your court, That will fight duels three? Before that I be hanged or slain, On the Tailliant's sword I'll die.'

23 But some is to the good green wood, And some is to the plain, Either to see fair Johnie hanged, Or else to see him slain.

24 And they began at eight o clock of the morning, And they fought on till three, Till the Tailliant, like a swallow swift, Owre Johnie's head did flee.

25 But Johnie being a clever young boy, He wheeled him round about, And on the point of Johnie's broad sword The Tailliant he slew out.

26 'A priest, a priest,' fair Johnie cried, 'To wed my love and me;' 'A clerk, a clerk,' her father cried, 'To sum the tocher free.'

27 'I'll have none of your gold,' fair Johnie said, 'Nor none of your white monie; But I will have my own fair bride, For I vow that I've bought her dear.'

28 He's taen his true-love by the hand, He led her up the plain: 'Have you any more of your English dogs You want for to have slain?'

29 He took a little horn out of his pocket, He blew it baith loud and shill, And honour's into Scotland gone, In spite of England's skill.

Motherwell MS., p. 205: #a#, "words and tune from Mrs McNiccol," of Paisley, native of the parish of Houston; #b#, variations from "John Lindsay, cowfeeder, Wallace Street, Paisley."

1 O Johnnie Scot walks up and down Among the woods sae wild; Who but the Earl of Percy's ae daughter To him goes big with child!

2 O word is to the kitchen gone, And word's gone to the hall, And word is to King Henry gane, And amongst his nobles all.

3 O Johnnie's called his waiting-man, His name was Germanie: 'O thou must to fair England go, Bring me that fair ladie.'

4 He rode till he came to Earl Percy's gate, He tirled at the pin; 'O who is there?' said the proud porter, 'But I daurna let thee in.'

5 So he rade up, and he rode down, Till he rode it round about; Then he saw her at a wee window, Where she was looking out.

6 'O thou must go to Johnnie Scot, Unto the woods so green, In token of thy silken shirt, Thine own hand sewed the seam.'

7 'How can I go to Johnnie Scot? Or how can I get out? My breast plate's o the hard, hard iron, With fetters round about.

8 'But I will write a lang letter, And give it unto thee, And thou must take that to Johnnie Scot, See what answer he sends to me.'

9 When Johnnie looked the letter upon A sorry man was he; He had not read one line but two Till the saut tear did blind his ee.

10 'O I must to fair England go, Whatever me betide, All for to fight for that gay ladie That last lay by my side.'

11 O out and spoke his father then, And he spoke well in time: O if you to fair England go, I doubt your coming home.

12 'O no, O no,' said good King James, 'Before such a thing shall be, I'll send five hundred of my life-guards, To bear Johnnie company.'

13 When they were all on saddle set, Most pleasant to behold, The hair that hung over Johnnie's neck Was like the links of gold.

14 When they were all marching away, Most beautiful to see, There was not so much as a married man In Johnnie's company.

15 O Johnnie was the foremost man In the company that did ride; King James he was the second man, Wi his rapier by his side.

16 They rode till they came to Earl Percy's yate, They tirled at the pin: 'O who is there?' said the proud porter; 'But I daurnot let thee in.

17 'Is it the Duke of York,' he said, 'Or James, our Scotish king? Or is it one of the Scotish lords, From hunting new come home?'

18 'It's not the Duke of York,' he said, 'Nor James, our Scotish king; But it is one of the Scotish lords, Earl Hector is my name.'

19 When Johnnie came before the king, He fell low down on his knee: 'O the brawest lady in a' my court With child goes big to thee.'

20 'O if she be with child,' Johnnie said, 'As I trew well she be, I will make it heir of all my land, And her my gay ladie.'

21 'But if she be with child,' said the king, 'As I trew well she be, Before the morn at ten o clock High hanged thou shalt be.'

22 'O no, O no,' said good King James, 'Before such a thing shall be, Before that Johnnie Scot be hanged, We'll a' fight till we die.'

23 'But there is a Talliant in my court, Of men he will fight five; Go bring them out to the green wood, See wha will gain the prize.'

24 Lords and ladies flocked all, They flocked all amain, They flocked all to the green wood, To see poor Johnnie slain.

25 This Talliant he could find no way To be poor Johnnie's dead, But, like unto a swallow swift, He jumped oer Johnnie's head.

26 But Johnnie was a clever man, Cunning and crafty withal, And up on the top of his braid sword He made this Talliant fall.

27 'A priest, a priest,' then Johnnie cried, 'To marry my love and me;' 'A clerk, a clerk,' her father cried, 'To sum the tocher free.'

28 'I'll take none of your gold,' Johnnie said, 'Nor none of your other gear, But I'll just have my own true-love, This day I've won her dear.'

Motherwell's MS., p. 113; from the recitation of T. Risk.

1 M^cNaughton's unto England gane, The king's banner to bear: 'O do you see yon castle, boy? It's walled round about; There you will spy a fair ladye, In the window looking out.'

2 'Here is a silken sark, fair lady, Thine own hand sewed the sleeve, And thou must go to yon green wood, To Johnnie thy true-love.'

3 'The castle it is high, my boy, And walled round about; My feet are in the fetters strong, And how can I get out?

4 'My garters o the gude black iron, And they are very cold; My breast plate's of the sturdy steel, Instead of beaten gold.

5 'But had I paper, pen and ink, And candle at my command, It's I would write a lang letter To John in fair Scotland.'

6 The first line that Johnnie looked on, A loud, loud lauch leuch he; The second line that Johnnie looked on, The tear did blind his ee.

7 Says, I must unto England go, Whatever me betide, For to relieve my own fair lady, That lay last by my side.

8 Then up and spoke Johnnie's auld mither, A well spoke woman was she: If you do go to England, Johnnie, I may take farewell o thee.

9 Then up and spoke Johnnie's old father, A well spoke man was he: It's twenty-four of my gay troop Shall go along with thee.

10 When Johnie was on saddle set, Right comely to be seen, There was not so much as a married man In Johnie's companie; There was not so much as a married man, Not a one only but ane.

11 The first gude toun that Johnie came to, He made the bells be rung; The next gude toun that Johnie came to, He made the psalms be sung.

12 The next gude toun that Johnie came to, He made the drums beat round, Till the king and all his merry men A-marvelled at the sound.

13 'Are you the Duke of Mulberry, Or James, our Scotish king? Are you the Duke of Mulberry, From Scotland new come home?'

14 'I'm not the Duke of Mulberry, Nor James, our Scotish king; But I am a true Scotishman, M^cNaughtoun is my name.'

15 'If M^cNaughtoun be your name,' he said, 'As I trew well it be, The fairest lady in a' my court She goes with child to thee.

16 'If M^cNauchton be your name,' he said, 'As I trew well it be, Tomorrow morn by eight o clock O hanged you shall be.'

17 O Johnie had a bonnie little boy, His name was Germany: 'Before that we be all hanged, my sovereign, We'll fight you till we die.'

18 'Say on, say on, my bonnie little boy, It is well spoken of thee, For there is a campioun in my court Shall fight you three by three.'

19 Next morning about eight o'clock The king and his merry men, The queen and all her maidens fair, Came whistling down the green, To see the cruel fight begin, And see poor Johnnie slain.

20 They fought on, and Johnie fought on, Wi swords of tempered steel, Until the drops of red, red blood Ran prinkling down the field.

21 They fought on, and Johnie fought on, They fought so manfullie They left not a man alive in all the king's court, Not a man only but three.

22 'A priest, a priest,' poor Johnie cries, 'To wed my love and me;' 'A clerk, a clerk,' the king did cry, 'To write her portion free.'

23 'I'll have none of your gold,' he says, 'Nor none of your white money, But I will have mine own fair lady, Who has been dear to me.'

24 Johnie put a horn unto his mouth, He blew it wondrous schill; The sound is unto Scotland gane, Sair against all their will.

25 He put his horn to his mouth, He blew it ower again, And aye the sound the horn cried, 'M^cNaughtoun's cure to them!'

Motherwell's MS., p. 211; from the recitation of Agnes Laird, Kilbarchan, 21 June, 1825.

1 Word has to the kitchen gane, And word has to the ha, And word has to the king himsell, In the chamber where he sat, That his ae daughter gaes wi bairn To bonnie Johnie Scot.

2 Word has to the kitchen gane, And word has to the ha, And word has to the queen hersell, In the chamber where she sat, That her ae dochter gaes wi bairn To bonnie Johnie Scot.

3 'O if she be wi bairn,' he says, 'As I trew well she be, We'll put her in a prison strang, And try her verity.'

4 'O if she be wi bairn,' she says, 'As I trew weel she be, We'll put her in a dungeon dark, And hunger her till she die.'

5 Now she has written a letter, And sealed it with her hand, And sent it unto Johnie Scot, To come at her command.

6 The first lang line that he looked to, He laughed at the same; The neist lang line that he did read, The tears did blin his een.

7 'Once more to England I must go, May God be my sure guide! And all to see that lady fair That last lay by my side.'

8 Then out bespoke our Scotish king, And he spoke manfullie: I and three thousand of my guards Will bear you companye.

9 They all were mounted on horseback, So gallantly they rode; The hair that hung owre Johnie's shoulders Was like the links of goud.

10 When they came to the king of England's gate, They knocked at the pin; So ready was the king himsell To open and let them in.

11 'Are you the Duke [of York],' he says, 'Or are ye the King of Spain? Or are ye some of the gay Scots boys, From hunting now come hame?'

12 'I am not the Duke of York,' he says, 'Nor yet the King of Spain; But I am one of the gay Scots boys, From hunting just come hame.'

13 'If you are one of the Scots boys, As I trew weel you be, The fairest lady in my hall Gaes big wi child to thee.'

14 'Then if she be wi bairn,' he says, 'As I trew weel she be, I'll make him heir of a' my gear, And her my fair ladye.'

15 'If she be wi bairn,' her father says, 'As I trew weel she be, Before the morn at ten o'clock High hanged thou shall be.'

16 Then out bespake our Scotish king, And he spoke manfullie: Before that Johnie Scott be slain, We'll all fight till we die.

17 'I have a Talliant in my house We'll fight your men by three;' 'Bring out your trooper,' Johnie says, 'For fain I would him see.'

18 Some gade unto the high mountain, Some gade unto the plain, Some at high windows looked out, To see poor Johnie slain.

19 The Talliant he fought on a while, Thinking Johnie would retire, And then he, like a swallow swifte, Owre Johnie's head did flee.

20 But Johnie was a clever man, And turned about with speed, And on the edge of his broadsword He slew the Talliant dead.

21 Then he has brought the lady out, And sat her on a dapple-gray, And being mounted on before, They briskly rode away.

22 Now the honour unto Scotland came, In spite of England's skill; The honour unto Scotland came In spite of England's will.

Motherwell's Note-Book, p. 35, Motherwell MS., p. 394; from the singing of Agnes Lyle, of Kilbarchan, 24 August, 1825.

1 Johnie Scott's a hunting gone, To England woods so wild, Until the king's old dochter dear She goes to him with child.

2 'If she be with bairn,' her mother says, 'As I trew weel she be, We'll put her in a dark dungeon, And hunger her till she die.'

3 'If she be with bairn,' her father says, 'As oh forbid she be! We'll put her in a prison strong, And try the veritie.'

4 The king did write a long letter, Sealed it with his own hand, And he sent it to Johnie Scot, To speak at his command.

5 When Johnie read this letter long, The tear blindit his ee: 'I must away to Old England; King Edward writes for me.'

6 Out and spak his mother dear, She spoke aye in time: Son, if thou go to Old England, I fear thou'll neer come hame.

7 Out and spoke a Scotish prince, And a weel spoke man was he: Here's four and twenty o my braw troops, To bear thee companie.

8 Away they gade, awa they rade, Away they rade so slie; There was not a maried man that day In Johnie's companie.

9 The first good town that they passed thro, They made their bells to ring; The next good town that they passed thro, They made their music sing.

10 The next gude town that they passed thro, They made their drums beat round, The king and a' his gay armies Admiring at the sound.

11 When they came to the king's court, They travelled round about, And there he spied his own true-love, At a window looking out.

12 'O fain wald I come down,' she says, 'Of that ye needna dout; But my garters they're of cauld, cauld iron, And I can no win out.

13 'My garters they're of cauld, cauld iron, And it is very cold; My breast-plate is of sturdy steel, Instead o beaten gold.'

14 Out and spoke the king himsell, And an angry man was he: The fairest lady in a' my court, She goes with child to thee.

15 'If your old doughter be with child, As I trew weel she be, I'le make it heir of a' my land, And her my gay lady.'

16 'There is a Talliant in my court, This day he's killed three; And gin the morn by ten o'clock He'll kill thy men and thee.'

17 Johnie took sword into his hand, And walked cross the plain; There was many a weeping lady there, To see young Johnie slain.

18 The Talliant never knowing this, Now he'll be Johnie's dead, But, like unto a swallow swift, He flew out owre his head.

19 Johnie was a valliant man, Weel taught in war was he, And on the point of his broad sword The Talliant stickit he.

20 Johnie took sword into his hand, And walked cross the plain: 'Are there here any more of your English dogs That's wanting to be slain?

21 'A priest, a priest,' young Johnie cries, 'To wed my bride and me;' 'A clerk, a clerk,' her father cries, 'To tell her tocher wi.'

22 'I'm wanting none of your gold,' he says, 'As little of your gear; But give me just mine own true-love, I think I've won her dear.'

23 Johnie sets horn into his mouth, And he blew loud and schrill; The honour it's to Scotland come, Sore against England's will.

Kinloch MSS, VI, 53, in an unknown hand.

1 'Where will I gett a bony boy, That would fain win hose and shoon, That will go on to yon palace, Aud haste him back again?'

2 'Here am I, a bony boy, That would fain win hose and shoon, That will go on to yon palace, And haste me back again.'

3 'When you come to yon palace, You'l run it round about; There you'l see a gay lady, At the window looking out.

4 'Give hir this shirt of silk, Hir own hand sewed the slive, And bid her come to good green woods, Spear no hir parents' leave.

5 'Give hir this shirt of silk, boy, Hir own hand sewed the gare; You'l bid her come to good green woods, Love Johny, I'll meet hir there.'

6 When he came to yon palace, He ran it round about, And there he saw a gay lady, At the window looking out.

7 'Take here this shirt of silk, lady, Your own hand sewed the slive; You're biden come to good green woods, Spire no your parents' leave.

8 'Take here this shirt of silk, lady, Your own hand sewed the gare; You're biden come to good green woods, Love Johny'll meet you there.'

9 'The staunchens they are strong, boy, Dear, vow but they are stout! My feet they are in strong fetters, And how shall I win out?

10 'My garters is of the cold iron, Dear, vow but they are cold! And three splits of the sturdy steel, Instead of beaten goold.

11 'But I will write a braud leter, And sign it with my hand, And I will send it to Love Johny, Weel may he understand.'

12 And she has wrote [a] braud leter, And signd it with hir hand, And sent it on to Love Jony, Weel did he understand.

13 When he got this letter, A light laugh did he gie; But or he read it half down through, The salt tears blinded 's ee.

14 Says, I'll awa to fair England, What ever may betide, And all is for the fair lady That lay close by my side.

15 Out it spoke Jony's mother, And she spoke ay through pride; Says, If ye go to fair England, Sir, better to you bide.

16 When Jony was on his sadle set, And seemly to behold, Every tet o Love Jony's hair Was like the threads of goold.

17 When Jony was on his sadle set, And seemly for to see, There was not a maried man In a' Jony's company.

18 The first town that they came till, They gard the bells be rung; The next town that they came till, They gard the mess bee sung.

19 When they came to the king's palace, The drums they did beat round, And the quien and her marys all Amased at the sound.

20 'Is this the Duke of Mulberry, Or James, our Scottish king? Or is it any noble lord That's going a visiting?'

21 'It's not the Duke of Mulberry, Nor James, our Scottish king; But it is Jack, the Little Scot, And Auchney is his name.'

22 'If Auchney bee your name,' he said, 'As I trust weel it be, The fairest lady in all my court She goes with bairn to the.'

23 'If she be with bairn,' he said, 'As I doubt not nor she be, I will make it heir oer all my land, And hir my gay lady.'

24 The king he swore a solemn oath, And a solemn oath swore he, 'The morn, before I eat or drink, High hanged he shall be!'

* * * * * * *

25 The king and his nobles all Went out into the plain, And the quen and hir marys all, To see Love Johny slain.

26 They fought up, and they fought down, With swords of temperd steel, But not a drop of Johny's blood In that day he did spill.

27 Out they brought the Itilian, And a greecy ghost was he, But by the edge o Love Johny's sword That Itilian did die.

28 Johny's taen his neat drawn sword, And stript it to the stran: 'Is there any more of your English dogs That wants for to be slain?'

29 'A clerck, a clerck,' now says the king, 'To sign her tocher free;' 'A priest, a priest,' said Love Johny, 'To mary my dear and me.

30 'I fought not for your goold, your goold, I fought not for your gear, But I fought for my rose Mary, And vow! I've bought hir dear.'

Kinloch MSS, VII, 39, 41, 43, 45, 47, 49.

1 Johnie is up to London gane, Three quarters o the year, And he is up to London gane, The king's banner for to bear.

2 He had na been in fair London A twalmonth and a day, Till the king's ae daughter To Johnie gangs wi child.

3 O word is to the kitchen gane, And word is to the ha, And word is to the king himsel Amang his nobles a'.

* * * * * * *

4 She has wrote a braid letter, She has wrote it tenderly, And she's wrote a braid letter, To lat her Johnie see

5 That her bower is very high, It's aw weel walled about; Her feet are in the fetters strang, Her body looking out.

6 Her garters are of cauld iron, And they are very cold; Her breist-plate is o the sturdy steel, Instead o the beaten gold.

7 Whan he lookit the letter on, A licht lauch gaed he; But eer he read it til an end, The tear blindit his ee.

8 'I maun up to London gang, Whatever me betide, And louse that lady out o prison strang; She lay last by my side.'

9 Up spak Johnie's ae best man, That stood by Johnie's knie: Ye'll get twenty four o my best men, To bear ye companie.

10 When Johnie was in his saddle set, A pleasant sicht to see, There was na ae married man In Johnie's companie.

11 The first toun that he cam till, He made the mass be sung; The niest toun that he cam till, He made the bells be rung.

12 When he cam to fair London, He made the drums gae round; The king and his nobles aw They marvelld at the sound.

13 'Is this the Duke of Winesberry, Or James, the Scotish king? Or is it a young gentleman, That wants for to be in?'

14 'It's na the Duke of Winesberry, Nor James, the Scotish king; But it is a young gentleman, Buneftan is his name.'

15 Up spak the king himsel, An angry man was he: The morn eer I eat or drink Hie hangit sall he be.

16 Up spak Johnie's ae best man, That stood by Johnie's knie: Afore our master he be slain We'll aw fecht till we die.

17 Up spak the king himsel, And up spak he: I have an Italian in my court That will fecht ye manifullie.

18 'If ye hae an Italian in your court, Fu fain wad I him see; If ye hae an Italian in your court, Ye may bring him here to me.'

19 The king and his nobles aw Went tripping doun the plain, Wi the queen and her maries aw, To see fair Johnie slain.

20 Even anent the prison-door The battle did begin; . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

21 They foucht up, and they foucht doun, Wi swerds o tempered steel, Til Johnie wi his gude braidswerd Made the Italian for to yield.

22 He has kickd him with his foot, And he has kickd him oure the plain; 'Onie mair Italians in your court Ye want for to be slain?'

23 'A clerk, a clerk,' the king cried, 'To sign her tocher-fee;' 'A priest, a priest,' young Johnie said, 'To marry her and me.

24 For I want nane o your gowd, Nor nane o your weel won fee; I only want your fair dochter, I have won her mannfullie.'

Kinloch MSS, VII, 40, 42, 46, 49.

1 O word is to the queen hersel, In parlour whare she sat, That the king's dochter goes wi child To Jock, that little Scot.

2 O word is to the king himsel, And an angry man was he; Says, I will put her in cold prison, And hunger her till she dee.

3 The ladie was laid in cold prison, By the king, a grievous man; And up and starts a little boy, Upon her window-stane.

4 Says, Here's a silken shift, ladye, Your ane hand sewed the sleeve, And ye maun gang to yon greenwud, And of your freends speir na leave.

5 'My bouer is very hie,' said the lady, 'And it's wondrous hie round about; My feet are lockit in the iron fetters, And how can I get out?

6 'But I will write a braid letter, And seal it tenderlie, And send it to yon greenwud, And let young Johnie see.'

7 O Johnie's to his father gane, And til him did say, O I maun up to London, father, And fecht for that lady gay.

8 His father spak but ae word, Says, I speak it in time; For an ye gang to London, Johnie, I fear your coming hame.

9 And out and spak anither youth, And a pretty youth was he: Afore I see young Johnie dung I'll fecht for him till I dee.

* * * * * * *

10 He has wallowd it, he has wallowd it, He's wallowd it again; Cries, Onie mae o your English dogs That wants for to be slain?

11 He set the horn until his mouth, And he has blawn baith loud and shill; The victor's doun to Scotland gane, Richt sair against their will.

Kinloch MSS, I, 311.

1 Johnie's up to England gane, Three quarters o a year; Johnie's up to England gane, The king's banner to bear.

2 He had not in fair England been A month 'twas barely ane, When the fairest lady o the court To Johnie wi child is gane.

3 Word is to the kitchen gane, And word's gane to the ha; Word's gane to the high, high rooms, Among the nobles a'.

4 And word o't to the king is gane, In the chamber where he sat, His only daughter goes wi child To Johnie, the Little Scot.

5 'O if she be wi child,' he says, 'As I trow weel she be, I'll lock her up in strong prison, And punish her till she dee.'

6 Then she has wrote a long letter, And seald it without a blot, And she has sent it to fair Scotland, To Johnie, the Little Scot.

7 The first line that he did read, In laughter loud was he; But or he gat the hindmost read The tear blindit his ee.

8 'Get ready for me the black, black steed, Get ready for me the brown, And saddle to me the swiftest horse Eer carried man to town.'

9 Whan he cam to Edinburgh town, He made the bells to ring, And when he cam to merry Carlisle, He made the monks to sing.

10 When he cam to the king's gates, He made his drums beat round; The king bot and his nobles a' They wonderd at the sound.

11 'Is this [the] King of France,' he cried, 'Or is't the King of Spain? Or is it Johnie, the Little Scot, That's wanting to be slain?'

12 'It's neither the King of France,' he said, 'Nor is't the King of Spain; But it is Johnie, the Little Scot, That's come to claim his ain.'

* * * * * * *

13 They foucht it ance, they foucht it twice, They foucht it oure again, Till draps o blood, like draps o rain, War rinning to the plain.

14 Then Johnie drew a nut-brown brand, And strook it oure the plain, Saying, Are there onie mae o your Englishmen That's wanting to be slain?

15 'A clerk, a clerk,' the king he cried, 'To sign her tocher-fee;' 'A priest, a priest,' then Johnie cried, 'To marry my love and me.

16 'I'll hae nane o your gowd,' he says, 'As little o your gear; But I'll hae her, my ain true-love, For I'm sure I've coft her dear.'

Campbell MSS, I, 57.

1 Johnnie Scott's a hunting gane, To England's woods sae wild; The fairest flower of all England To Johnnie provd big with child.

2 It's word's going up, and word's going down, Going to the king's bower, That his dear daughter was with child, That was his daily flower.

3 'If she be with child, As I suppose she be, I'll put her into prison strong, And hunger her till she die.'

4 The king he wrote a letter broad, And sealed it with his hands, And sent it down to Johnnie Scott, In Scotland where he stands.

5 The first line that Johnnie lookd on, A merry man was he; The next line that he lookd on, The salt tears blinded his eye.

6 Out then spoke his old father, Who neer spoke out of time: And if you go to England, son, I doubt your coming home.

7 Out then spoke our Scottish James, Sitting low by Johnnie's knee: Fifteen score of my life-guards Shall ride in your company.

8 When Johnnie came to the king's court He rode it round about, And there he spied his own true-love, From the jail-window looking out.

9 'Come down, true-love,' said Johnnie Scott, 'And now you'll ride behind me; Before I leave fair England Some life shall die for thee.'

10 'My feet are in the fetters strong, I'm belted round about; My breastplate is of the stubborn steel, Instead of beaten gold.'

11 When Johnnie came to the king's bower He tinkled at the ring; Who was so ready as the king himself To let proud Johnnie in!

12 'Are ye the Duke of Marlborough,' he said, 'Or James, our Scottish king? Or are you my bastard son, From Scotland new come home?'

13 'I'm not the Duke of Marlborough,' he said, 'Nor James, our Scottish king; But I am just a good Scotch lad, And Johnnie Scott's my name.'

14 'If you be Johnnie Scott,' says he, 'As I suppose you be, The fairest flower in all England Is big with child by thee.'

15 'If she be big with child,' said he, 'As I hope her to be, I'll make it heir of all my lands, And she my gay lady.'

16 'O no,' then the king he crys, 'There's no such thing will be; There is an Italian in my court, And by his hands ye'll die.'

17 'I'll stand my ground,' says Johnnie Scott, 'I'll stand it till I die; I'll stand my ground,' says Johnnie Scott, 'One foot I'd scorn to fly.'

18 When the Italian was brought out, A fearsome sight was he; Between his brows three women's spang, His shoulders was yards three.

19 As Johnnie, being a crafty lad, Well tried at the sword was he, Upon the point of his broad sword He made the Italian die.

Campbell MSS, II, 335.

1 Lord Johnnie's up to England gane, Three quarters of an year; Lord Johnnie's up to England gone, The king's banner to bear.

2 He had not been in fair England, Three quarters he was not, Till the king's eldest daughter Goes with child to Lord Johnnie Scott.

3 Word has to the kitchen gone, And word's gone to the hall, And word's gone to the high, high room, Among the nobles all.

4 And word has gaen to the king himsel, In his chamber where he sat, That his eldest daughter goes wi child To good Lord Johnnie Scott.

5 'Gin that be true,' the king replied, 'As I suppose it be, I'll put her in a prison strong, And starve her till she die.'

* * * * * * *

6 'O where will I get a little page, That will win baith hose and shoon, And run into fair Scotland, And tell my love to come?'

* * * * * * *

7 'What news, what news, my little page? What news hae ye brought to me?' 'Bad news, bad news, my master dear, The king's daughter maun die.

8 'Here is a shirt, O master dear, Her ain hand sewd the sleeve; She bad me run and tell ye this, And ask nae person's leave.

9 'They have her in a prison strong, And in a dungeon deep; Her feet are in the fetters strong, And they've left her to weep.

10 'Her feet are in the cold, cold iron, Instead of beaten gold; Her garters are of the cauld, cauld iron, And O but they are cold!'

* * * * * * *

11 'A clerk, a clerk,' the king did cry, 'To cry the toucher-fee;' 'A priest, a priest,' Lord Johnnie cry'd, 'To join my love and me.

12 'I want none of your gold,' he said, 'Nor as little want I a fee; But I do want your daughter dear, My wedded wife to be.'

Buchan's Gleanings, p. 122.

1 Lord John he's on to England gone, To England gone is he; Love John he's on to England gone, The king's banneret to be.

2 He hadna been in fair England O but a little while, Till faen in love wi the king's daughter, And to him she's with chile.

3 Now word is to the kitchen gane, And word is to the ha, And word is to the king's high court, And that was warst of a'.

4 Out then spake the king himsell, An angry man was he: I'll put her into prison strong, And starve her till she die.

5 Love John he's on to Scotland gone, I wat he's on wi speed; Love John he's on to Scotland gone, And as good was his need.

6 He hadna been in fair Scotland But a very short tide, Till he minded on the damsel That lay last by his side.

7 'Whare will I get a bonny boy, Will win baith meat and fee, That will run on to fair England, And haste him back to me?'

8 'O here am I, a bonny boy, Will win baith meat and fee, That will run on to fair England, And haste him back to thee.'

9 'Where ye find the grass grow green, Ye'll slack your shoes and rin; And when ye find the brigs broken, Ye'll bend your bow and swim.

10 'And when ye come to the king's high court, Ye'll rin it round about, And there ye'll see a lady gay, At a window looking out.

11 'Bid her take this shirt of silk, Her ain hand sewed the sleeve; Bid her come to good green-wood, At her parents spier nae leave.

12 'Bid her take this shirt of silk, Her ain hand sewed the gair; Bid her come to good green-wood, Love John he waits her there.'

13 Where he found the grass grow green, He slackd his shoes and ran; Where he fan the brigs broken, He bent his bow and swam.

14 When he came to the king's high court, He ran it round about; And there he saw the lady gay, At the window looking out.

15 'Ye're bidden take this shirt of silk, Yere ain hand sewed the sleeve; Ye're bidden come to good green-wood, At your parents spier nae leave.

16 'Ye're bidden take this shirt of silk, Yere ain hand sewed the gair; Ye're bidden come to good green-wood, Love John he waits you there.'

17 'My feet are in the fetters strong, Instead of silken sheen; My breast-plate's of the cold iron, Instead of gold so fine.

18 'But I will write a broad letter, And seal it with my hand, And send it off to my Love Johnny, And let him understand.'

19 The first line that he looked on, A loud laughter laught he; But ere he read it to the end, The tear blinded his ee.

20 'O I will on to fair England, Whatever me betide, For to relieve the damsel That lay last by my side.'

21 Out it spake his father dear, A noble lord was he: If ye gang to England, Johnny, Ye'll neer come back to me.

22 Out it spake a noble lord, A noble lord, I wat, was he: Fifteen of our Scottish lords Will bear his honour companie.

23 The first town that they eer came till, They gart the bells be rung; The next town that they came till, They gart the mass be sung.

24 And when they came to the king's court, They gart the trumpet soun, Till the king and all his merry young men Did marvel at the tune.

25 'Is this the Duke of Marlborough, Or James, the Scottish king? Or is it else some Scottish lord, Come here a visiting?'

26 'It's not the Duke of Marlborough, Nor James, the Scottish king: It is Love John of fair Scotland, Come here a visiting.'

27 'If this be John of fair Scotland, He's dearly welcome to me; The morn ere he eat or drink, High hanged he shall be.'

28 He's taen his broadsword in his hand, And stripd it oer a stane; Then thro and thro the king's high court With broadsword now is gane.

29 They fought it up, they fought it down, Till they were weary men, When the blood, like drops of rain, Came trickling down the plain.

30 Out it spake the king himsel, Ane angry man was he: I have ane Italian within my court Will fight ye three and three.

31 Out it came that ae Italian, As pale as death was he, And on the point of Johnny's sword That ae Italian did die.

32 'A clerk, a clerk,' the king he cried, 'And seal her tocher wi;' 'A priest, a priest,' Lord John he cried, 'That we may married be.

33 'For I want neither gold,' he said, 'Nor do I want your gear; But I do want my ain true-love, For I have bought her dear.'

Communicated by Mr William Macmath, of Edinburgh, from his aunt, Miss Jane Webster, formerly of Airds of Kells, now (December, 1882) of Dalry, Kirkcudbrightshire, who learned it from the late Miss Jane Hannay, Newton Stewart.

* * * * * * *

1 Out then spak his auld faither, And a blythe auld man was he, Saying, I'll send five hunner o my brisk young men, To bear Johnie companie.

2 And when they were on saddle set, They were a pleasant sight for to see, For there was na ae married man In a' Johnie's companie.

3 And when they were on saddle set, They were a pleasant sight to behold, For the hair that hung down Johnie's back Was like the links of gold.

4 And when they came to Newcastle, They reined their horses about; Wha did he see but his ain Jeanie, At a window looking out!

5 'Come doun, come doun, Jeanie,' he says, 'Come doun, come doun to me;' 'I canna come doun, Johnie,' she says, 'For King Edward has bolted me.

6 'My stockings are o the heavy iron, I feel them very cold; And my breast-plate's o the sturdy steel, Instead of beaten gold.'

* * * * * * *

7 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 'I'll make it heir o a' my lands, And her my gay lady.'

8 'There is an Italian in this court; This day he has slain knights three; And before tomorrow at eight o'clock The Italian will slay thee.'

Motherwell's Note-Book, p. 11.

1 Johnie's up to England gone, Three quarters of a year; Johnie's up to England gone, The king's banner to bear.

2 He hadna been in fair England A month but only three, The king he had but one dochter, And she fell in love with he.

3 And word is up, and word is down, And word is to the ha, And word is to the king's court gane, Amang the nobles a'.

4 Now word is to the king himsell, On throne where he did sit, That his ae dochter goes wi child To John that little Scot.

* * * * *

#A.#

Written in stanzas of two long lines in the Jamieson MS.

4^2, 27^2. MS. will?

8^3. I wist.

15^3. plates.

The first stanza is given thus by Anderson in Nichols's Illustrations:

Johnie was as brave a knight As ever sailed the sea, And he is to the English court, To serve for meat and fee.

The Abbotsford copy omits stanzas 4, 9, 34. Most of the many changes are, beyond doubt, arbitrary, but the following are more or less countenanced by other versions.

1^{3, 4}. And he is up to fair England, The king's braid banner to bear.

Cf. #B#, #E#, #I#, #K#, #M#, #N#, #P#.

19^4. That should have been my bride. Cf. #B# 10.

30. Out then cam that Italian knight, A grisly sight to see; Between his een there was a span, Between his shoulders three and three.

And forth then came brave John the Scot, He scarcely reachd his knee; Yet on the point of Johny's brand The Italian knight did die.

Cf. #L# 18.

#B.#

Written in stanzas of two lines.

16^3. And there.

#C.#

3^2. forgid.

14^3. plates.

16^4. be thy.

23^3. Johnie slain.

24^4. Johnie's dread.

26^4. free changed in MS. to fee. Cf. #A# 33^2, #D# 27^4, #E# 22^4, #H# 29^2; fee, #I# 23^2, #K# 15^2, #M# 11^2.

#D. a.#

The last two lines of each stanza are repeated in singing.

8^4. Originally to thee.

25^2. dead changed to deid.

#b.#

Title, Lord Johnnie Scot.

The variations are generally written above the readings of #a#, or otherwise distinctly indicated.

1^1. It's Johnnie.

1^3. And who.

3^3. It's thou.

3^4. gay ladie.

4^1. rode till her father's gate.

5^1. It's he.

6^1. to the green woods.

6^2. To Johnnie Scot thy luve.

6^4. the sleeve.

7^1. to the green woods.

10^3. ladie gay.

11^1. out then... father dear.

11^2. spoke out.

11^3. If thou unto.

11^4. doubt thy.

12^1. Out then spoke our.

12^2. And he spoke manfullie.

13, 14. These stanzas are often transposed.

13^4. the yellow gold.

14^2. Most pleasant for to.

18^1. I'm not.

18^2. James your.

18^3. But I'm.

20^1. he said.

21^1. he said.

22^1. Out then spoke our.

23^4. the day.

24^1. all did flock.

24^2. In coaches all amain.

24^3. all did flock.

25^4. oer his head.

26^3. on the point.

The reciter had heard another ballad which detailed the same events, and but little differing in any respect, which went under the name of 'M^cNaughton's Valour,' or, 'Naughton's Valour.'

#E.#

13^4. Originally now come, altered to new come.

17^2. Var. And a well spoke boy was he.

18^3. Var. champion.

19^3. Originally written Likewise the queen and her maidens fair.

20^4. trinkling down? Motherwell.

25^4. Var. M^cNaughton and his men! "M^cNaughtoun's cure to ye!" is Devil relieve ye! Motherwell.

#F.#

3^1, 4^1. Oh.

#G.#

8^2. the rade.

8^3. Theyre.

The second copy has these few differences, attributable to Motherwell:

1^2. England's.

2^1, 3^1. said.

7^4. bear him.

23^1. set unto.

23^2. schill.

23^3. Scotland gone.

#H.#

8^4. Johny I'll

19^2. They drums.

20^1. muberry.

26^3. Johny.

27^3. But but.

26, 27 should, perhaps, be transposed; but compare #N# 29-31.

#I.#

2^2. Kinloch corrects day to while.

After 3. A verse a-wanting. It is about the king putting his daughter in prison.

#K.#

14^2. shook: cf. #A# 32^2.

#L.#

3^4. dies (?).

17^3. say.

#P.#

2^4. Var. goes with child to: perhaps a change of Motherwell's.

[164] Pointed out to Motherwell by Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe.

[165] "Les Aubrays est le nom d'une seigneurie du pays de Retz, apportée en mariage, en 1455, à Rolland de Lannion, par Guyonne de Grezy, dame des Aubrays. La ballade ne peut pas, par conséquent, être antérieure à cette époque, et nous la croyons bien plus moderne." M. Pol de Courcy, Luzel, I, 306. The ballad can be no older, unless the Seigneur Les Aubrays has displaced an earlier hero; but what means have we of deciding that question?

100

WILLIE O WINSBURY

#A.# 'Willie o Winsbury,' Campbell MSS, II, 38.

#B.# Herd's MSS, I, 29; II, 98.

#C.# 'Lord Thomas of Winsbury,' Kinloch MSS, I, 315.

#D.# Percy Papers, communicated by the Rev. P. Parsons, about 1775.

#E.# 'Johnnie Barbour,' Notes and Queries, Fifth Series, VII, 387.

#F.# 'Willie of Winsberye,' Motherwell's MS., p. 404.

#G.# 'Lord Thomas o Winsbury,' Buchan's MSS, II, 174; 'Lord Thomas of Winesberry and the King's Daughter,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 212.

#H.# 'Lord Thomas of Winesberrie,' Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 92.

#I.# 'Lord Thomas of Winsberry,' #a#, #b#, stall copies; #c#, Buchan's Gleanings, p. 127.

The main points of the story of this ballad are the same in all the copies. The king of Scotland, #C#, #F#, of France, #H#, #I#, has been away from home a considerable time, in Spain, #A#, #C#, #F#, #G#, a prisoner, #A#, #F#, a-hunting, #C#, #H#, #I#, and during his absence his daughter has become with child by William or Thomas of Winsbury. The father threatens to hang the young man, but on seeing him is so struck with his beauty that he exonerates his daughter, and offers her in marriage to her lover, with a large dowry. Winsbury accepts the lady, but declines gold and land, having enough of his own. In #H# he says he shall be king when he goes back to Scotland; in the other copies he appears to be only a man of very good estate.

From the hero turning out to be a royal person from Scotland, in #H#, Kinloch, Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 89, is led to imagine that the ballad may relate to James V of Scotland, who married a daughter of Francis I. His reasons are, first, that James disguised himself when he went to inspect the Duke of Vendôme's daughter (to whom he was in a way betrothed), so as not to be known to her or to her parents. Secondly, that when James, not fancying this lady, passed on, it was at a hunting-party that he met the French princess, who became so enamored of him that she would have no other husband. That the poor princess had long been sick, and "was not able to travel out of the realm to no other countrie" (on a milk-white steed, #C# 13), and that she died about six months after her marriage, does not come into the ballad.[166] Buchan thinks Winsbury's rank to be fixed by his version, #G#, as that of a chamberlain, and therefore cannot admit the plausibility of a disguised James V.

The two English copies, #D#, #E#, both imperfect, change the hero's name to Johnnie Barbary ('lately come from Spain,' cf. #B# 5) or Johnnie Barbour. Motherwell, in a manuscript annotation to Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, mentions that he had obtained from recitation a copy in which the name was Sweet Willie of Salisbury. The change from a king to a lady neat and trim in #D# 1 is a corruption that one would have hardly looked for "from the spinning-wheel."

The stanza which notes the reluctance of the young man to come at call, #C# 9, #D# 6, #F# 12, occurs in all copies of 'The Knight and Shepherd's Daughter.'

Campbell MSS, II, 38.

1 The king he hath been a prisoner, A prisoner lang in Spain, O And Willie o the Winsbury Has lain lang wi his daughter at hame. O

2 'What aileth thee, my daughter Janet, Ye look so pale and wan? Have ye had any sore sickness, Or have ye been lying wi a man? Or is it for me, your father dear, And biding sae lang in Spain?'

3 'I have not had any sore sickness, Nor yet been lying wi a man; But it is for you, my father dear, In biding sae lang in Spain.'

4 'Cast ye off your berry-brown gown, Stand straight upon the stone, That I may ken ye by yere shape, Whether ye be a maiden or none.'

5 She's coosten off her berry-brown gown, Stooden straight upo yon stone; Her apron was short, and her haunches were round, Her face it was pale and wan.

6 'Is it to a man o might, Janet? Or is it to a man of fame? Or is it to any of the rank robbers That's lately come out o Spain?'

7 'It is not to a man of might,' she said, 'Nor is it to a man of fame; But it is to William of Winsburry; I could lye nae langer my lane.'

8 The king's called on his merry men all, By thirty and by three: 'Go fetch me William of Winsburry, For hanged he shall be.'

9 But when he cam the king before, He was clad o the red silk; His hair was like to threeds o gold, And his skin was as white as milk.

10 'It is nae wonder,' said the king, 'That my daughter's love ye did win; Had I been a woman, as I am a man, My bedfellow ye should hae been.

11 'Will ye marry my daughter Janet, By the truth of thy right hand? I'll gie ye gold, I'll gie ye money, And I'll gie ye an earldom o land.'

12 'Yes, I'll marry yere daughter Janet, By the truth of my right hand; But I'll hae nane o yer gold, I'll hae nane o yer money, Nor I winna hae an earldom o land.

13 'For I hae eighteen corn-mills, Runs all in water clear, And there's as much corn in each o them As they can grind in a year.'

Herd's MSS, I, 29; II, 98.

* * * * * * *

1 'What aileth ye, my dochter Dysmill, Ye look sae pale and wan? Hae ye had ony sair sickness, Or ill luve wi a man?

2 'Cast aff, cast aff your bony brown goun, And lay't down on the stane, And I sall tell ye ay or no Ye hae layn wi a man.'

3 She has taen aff her bony brown gown, She has laid it on the stane; Her waist was big, her side was round, Her fair colour was gane.

4 'Now is it to a man of micht, Or to a man of mean? Or is it to the ranke robber That robs upon the main?'

5 'O it's nor to a man of micht, Nor to a man of mean; But it's to Willie Winchberrie, That came frae France and Spain.'

6 The king he's turnd him round about, An angry man was he: 'Gar bring to me your fals leman, Wha sall high hanged be.'

7 Then Dysmill turnd her round about, The tear blinded her ee: 'Gin ye begin to hang, father, Ye maun begin wi mee.'

8 When Willie he cam to the king, His coat was o the silk; His hair was like the thread o gowd, His skin white as the milk.

9 'Ne wonder, ne wonder,' quoth the king, 'My dochter shoud like ye; Gin ye were a woman, as ye're a man, My bedfellow ye sould be.

10 'Now will ye marry my dochter Dysmill, By the truth o your right hand? Now will ye marry my dochter Dysmill, And be a lord o the land?'

Kinloch MSS, I, 315.

1 The king has been long seven years away, Long seven years away frae hame; Our king has been long seven years away, A hunting oer in Spain.

* * * * * * *

2 'What aileth thee, my ae daughter, Thou lookst so pale and wan? Hast thou had any sore sickness, Or hast thou loved man?'

3 'I have not had any sore sickness, To make me look sae wan; But it is for your own majestie, You staid sae lang in Spain.'

4 'Cast aff, cast aff thy silken gown, And lay it on yon stane, And I'll tell to thee if with child you be, Or if ye be with nane.'

5 She's casten aff her costly gown, That's made o the silk sae fine; Her stays were sae strait she could na loot, And her fair colour was wan.

6 'Oh is it to any mighty man? Or any lord of fame? Or is it to the rank robbers That I sent out o Spain?'

7 'It is no to the rank robbers That you sent out o Spain; But it is to Thomas of Winsbury, For I dought na lie my lane.'

8 'If it be to Lord Thomas,' he says, 'It's hanged shall he be:' 'If you hang Thomas of Winsbury, You'll get na mair gude o me.'

9 The king's called up his merry men all, By one, by two, and three; Lord Thomas should hae been the foremost man, But the hindmost man was he.

10 'No wonder, no wonder,' the king he said, 'My daughter loved thee; For wert thou a woman, as thou art a man, My bedfellow thou shouldst be.

11 'O will you marry my daughter dear, By the faith of thy right hand? And thou shalt reign, when I am dead, The king over my whole land.'

12 'I will marry your daughter dear, With my heart, yea and my hand; But it never shall be that Lord Winsbury Shall rule oer fair Scotland.'

13 He's mounted her on a milk-white steed, Himself on a dapple-grey, And made her a lady of as much land She could ride in a whole summer day.

Communicated to Percy by the Rev. P. Parsons, of Wey, apparently in 1775. "This I had from the spinning-wheel."

1 There was a lady fine and gay, She was so neat and trim; She went unto her own garden-wall, To see her own ships come in.

2 And there she spied her daughter Jane, Who lookd so pale and wan: 'What, have you had some long sickness, Or lain with some young man?'

3 'No, I have had no long sickness, Nor lain with no young man:' Her petticoats they were so short, She was full nine months gone.

4 'Oh is it by some nobleman? Or by some man of fame? Or is it by Johnny Barbary, That's lately come from Spain?'

5 'No, it is by no nobleman, Nor by no man of fame; But it is by Johnny Barbary, That's lately come from Spain.'

6 Then she calld down her merry men, By one, by two, by three; Johnny Barbary used to be the first, But now the last came he.

7 'Oh will you take my daughter Jane, And wed her out of hand? And you shall dine and sup with me, And be heir of my land.'

8 'Yes, I will take your daughter Jane, And wed her out of hand; And I will dine and sup with you, But I do not want your land.'

9 Then she calld down her merry men, With a shrill and a pleasant voice: 'Come, let us all now mery be, Since she has made such a happy choice.'

Notes and Queries, Fifth Series, VII, 387, 1877: communicated by B. Montgomerie Ranking, as "heard sung years ago by a West Country fisherman."

* * * * * * *

1 'Oh daughter, oh daughter,' her father he said, 'What makes you look so pale? . . . . . . . Or are you in love with any man?'

2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 'But if it be one of my own sailor lads, High hanged he shall be.'

3 Johnnie Barbour he cam doun the stair, His shirt was of the silk; His two bonnie black een were rolling in his head, And his skin was as white as milk.

4 'Oh are you ready to marry my daughter, And take her by the hand, And to eat and drink with me at the table, And be heir of all my land?'

5 'Oh it's I am ready to marry your daughter, And take her by the hand, And to eat and drink with her at the table, And to fight for all your land.'

Motherwell's MS., p. 404; from the recitation of Agnes Laird, of Kilbarchan, August 24, 1825.

1 Our king hath been a poor prisoner, And a poor prisoner in Spain; O When seven long years was past and gone, Our Scotish king came hame. O

2 As he was riding along the way, He met with his dear dochter: 'What ails thee, what ails thee, my dochter dear, Thou looks so pale and wan?

3 'Have ye had any sore sickness, Or have ye lovd a man? Or is it for me, my dochter dear, I have been so long in Spain?'

4 'I have had no sore sickness, Nor yet have I loved a man; But it is for you, my father dear, Thou've been so long in Spain.'

5 'Cast aff, cast aff thy brown silk gown, And spread it on yonder stone, And I will tell you by and by Whether thou art a maid or none.'

6 She's coosten off her brown silk gown, And spread it on yonder stone, And her belly was big, and her face pale and wan, And she was about half gone.

7 'Is it to a man o micht? Or to a man of fame? Or is it to one of the rank rebels That I sent out of Spain?'

8 'It is not to a man of micht, Nor to a man of fame, Nor yet to one of the rank rebels That ye sent out o Spain; But it is to Willie o Winsberry, Thy very own serving-man.'

9 'If it be to Willie o Winsberry, As I trew well it be, Gin the morn at ten o the clock It's hanged shall he be.'

10 As the king was riding up the gate He met Willie clothed in scarlet red, And his hair was as yellow as the beam, beam gold, And his breast as white as milk.

11 'No wonder, no wonder,' quo the king, 'My dochter luvit thee; For if thou was a woman, as thou'rt a man, My bedfellow thou should be.'

12 The king called down his merry men all, By one, by two, and by three; Sweet Willie should ha been the foremost man, But the hindmost man drew he.

13 'Will you take my dochter Jean, By the faith of her richt hand? And you shall sup and dine with me, And heir the third part of my land.'

14 'I will take your dochter Jean, By the faith of her richt hand, And I will sup and dine with you, But a fig for all your land; For I've as much land in Winsberry As we'll ride in a long summer's day.'

Buchan's MSS, II, 174; Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 212.

1 Seven years the king he staid Into the land of Spain, And seven years True Thomas was His daughter's chamberlain.

2 But it fell ance upon a day The king he did come home; She baked and she benjed ben, And did him there welcome.

3 'What aileth you, my daughter Janet, You look sae pale and wan? There is a dreder in your heart, Or else you love a man.'

4 'There is no dreder in my heart, Nor do I love a man; But it is for your lang byding Into the land of Spain.'

5 'Ye'll cast aff your bonny brown gown, And lay it on a stone, And I'll tell you, my jelly Janet, If ever ye lovd a man.'

6 She's cast aff her bonny brown gown, And laid it on a stone; Her belly was big, her twa sides high, Her colour it was quite gane.

7 'Is it to a man o the might, Janet, Or is it till a man o the main? Or is it to one o my poor soldiers, That I brought hame frae Spain?'

8 'It's not till a man o the might,' she says, 'Nor yet to a man o the main; But it's to Thomas o Winsbury, That cannot longer len.'

9 'O where are all my wall-wight men, That I pay meat and fee, That will go for him True Thomas, And bring him in to me? For the morn, ere I eat or drink, High hanged shall he be.'

10 She's turnd her right and round about, The tear blinded her ee: 'If ye do any ill to True Thomas, Ye's never get gude o me.'

11 When Thomas came before the king He glanced like the fire; His hair was like the threads o gold, His eyes like crystal clear.

12 'It was nae wonder, my daughter Janet, Altho ye loved this man; If he were a woman, as he is a man, My bed-fellow he would been.

13 'O will ye marry my daughter Janet? The truth's in your right hand; Ye's hae some o my gold, and some o my gear, And the twalt part o my land.'

14 'It's I will marry your daughter Janet; The truth's in my right hand; I'll hae nane o your gold, nor nane o your gear, I've enough in my own land.

15 'But I will marry your daughter Janet With thirty ploughs and three, And four and twenty bonny breast-mills, And a' on the water o Dee.'

Kinloch's Scottish Ballads, p. 92.

1 It fell upon a time, when the proud king of France Went a hunting for five months and more, That his dochter fell in love with Thomas of Winesberrie, From Scotland newly come oer.

2 Whan her father cam hame frae hunting the deer, And his dochter before him cam, Her belly it was big, and her twa sides round, And her fair colour was wan.

3 'What ails thee, what ails thee, my dochter Janet? What maks thee to look sae wan? Ye've either been sick, and very, very sick, Or else ye hae lain wi a man.'

4 'Ye're welcome, ye're welcome, dear father,' she says, 'Ye're welcome hame to your ain, For I hae been sick, and very, very sick, Thinking lang for your coming hame.

5 'O pardon, O pardon, dear father,' she says, 'A pardon ye'll grant me:' 'Na pardon, na pardon, my dochter,' he says, 'Na pardon I'll grant thee.

6 'O is it to a man of micht, Or to a man of mean? Or is it to onie of thae rank robbers That I sent hame frae Spain?'

7 'It is not to a man of micht, Nor to a man of mean; But it is to Thomas o Winesberrie, And for him I suffer pain.'

8 'If it be to Thomas o' Winesberrie, As I trust well it be, Before I either eat or drink, Hie hangit sall he be.'

9 When this bonnie boy was brought afore the king, His claithing was o the silk, His fine yellow hair hang dangling doun, And his skin was like the milk.

10 'Na wonder, na wonder, Lord Thomas,' he says, 'My dochter fell in love wi thee, For if I war a woman, as I am a man, My bed-fellow ye shoud be.

11 'Then will ye marry my dochter Janet, To be heir to a' my land? O will ye marry my dochter Janet, Wi the truth o your richt hand?'

12 'I will marry your dochter Janet, Wi the truth o my richt hand; I'll hae nane o your gowd, nor yet o your gear, I've eneuch in fair Scotland.

13 'But I will marry your dochter Janet, I care na for your land, For she's be a queen, and I a king, Whan we come to fair Scotland.'

#a.# A stall copy printed by M. Randall, Stirling, #b.# A stall copy by C. Randall, Stirling. #c.# Buchan's Gleanings, p. 127.

1 It fell upon a time that the proud king of France Went a hunting for five months and more; His daughter fell in love with Lord Winsberry, Who from Scotland was newly come oer.

2 'You're welcome, welcome, dear father,' she said, 'You're welcome again to your own; For I have been sick, and very, very sick, Thinking long for your coming home.'

3 'Put off, put off your gown of green,' he says, 'And spread it on yonder green, And tell them from me that in mourning you are, Or that ye have lain with a man.'

4 She's put off her gown of green, And spread it on the strand; Her haunches were round, and her belly was big, From her face the colour is gone.

5 'O is it to a man of might,' he says, 'Or is it to a man that's mean? Or is it to one of those rank rebels, That lately from Scotland came?'

6 'O it is to a man of might,' she says, 'It is not to one that is mean; It is to Lord Thomas of Winsberry, And for him I must suffer pain.'

7 The king called up his merry men all, By one, by two, and by three: 'Go fetch me Lord Thomas of Winsberry, For tomorrow he shall die.'

8 They sought him up, they sought him down, As fast as fast could be; There they found Lord Thomas of Winsberry, Sitting under an orange tree.

9 'Get up, get up, Lord Thomas,' they said, 'Get up, and bound your way; For the king has sworn by his honoured crown That tomorrow is thy dying-day.'

10 'O what have I robbd, or what have I stolen, Or what have I killed or slain, That I should be afraid to speak to your king? For I have done him no wrong.'

11 Lord Thomas came tripping up the stair, His cloathing was of the silk; His fine yellow hair hung dangling down, His skin was white as the milk.

12 And when he came before the king He kneeled down on his knee; Says, What is your will with me, my liege, What is your will with me?

13 'I think no wonder, Lord Thomas,' he says, 'That my daughter fell in love with thee; If thou wert a woman, as thou art a man, My bed-fellow thou wouldst be.

14 'Will ye marry my daughter Jean, By the faith of thy right hand? Thou'se have part of my gold, part of my gear, And a third part of my land.'

15 'Yes, I will marry thy daughter Jean, By the faith of my right hand; I'll have none of your gold, none of your gear; I have enough in fair Scotland.'

16 He has mounted her on a milk-white steed, Himself on a dapple-grey; He's got as much land in fair Scotland As they can ride in a summer's day.

* * * * *

#A.#

O is added, in singing, to every second and fourth verse.

1^2. oh.

9^3. the reeds of, in my copy.

11^2. of my.

#B.#

Quhat, ze, etc., are printed what, ye.

#C.#

9. Given thus in Kinloch's annotated copy of his Ancient Scottish Ballads; derived, from Motherwell:

The king called doun his merry men, By thirties and by three; Lord Thomas, that used to be the first. The hindmost man was he.

#D.#

3^2. altered, wrongly, to But lain with a.

9^2. shrrill.

#F.#

O is added, in singing, to every second and fourth verse.

1^{3, 4}. Thus in Motherwell's Note-Book, p. 27:

Seven long years was past and gone When our Scotish king came home. O

16. _Given thus in Kinloch's annotated copy of his Ancient Scottish Ballads, as the concluding verse of Mr Motherwell's copies and that of Buchan:_

He mounted her on a milk-white steed, Himself on a dapple-grey, And they've as muckle land in braid Scotland As can be rode in a lang simmer's day.

#G.# Some trifling changes are made by Buchan in printing.

8^4. ben, printed by Buchan len.

#I. a.#

14^2. of my: so #b.#

16^1. her wanting.

#b.#

2^3. and very sick.

4^{1, 2}. wanting.

5^2. that is.

5^3. these.

8^2. As fast as they.

9^3. his wanting.

11^3. hang.

13^4. should be.

#c.#

2^2. You are.

3^1. Put off your.

5^2. that is.

5^3. these.

7^4. Sitting under an orange tree.

8. wanting.

14^2. of my.

14^3. Thou'llt.

[166] "A William Wynnesbury, who was yeoman of the Guard at the time of Henry VIII, used generally to act as Lord of Misrule in the years 1508-19, and he was Friar Tuck at Greenwich in May, 1515 (see Collier's Annals of the Stage, and J. S. Brewer's Letters and Papers of Henry VIII), and this, no doubt, made the name popular with the ballad-makers." Ward, Catalogue of Romances, etc., I, 532. Undeniably the Lord Winsbury of our ballad might be said to have acted as a lord of misrule, but it was hardly an English (or Scots) ballad-maker of the sixteenth century that made this ballad; and Mr. Ward, probably, did not intend so to be understood.

101

WILLIE O DOUGLAS DALE

#A.# 'Willy o Douglass-dale,' Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 8.

#B. a.# 'Dame Oliphant, or, Willie o Douglass Dale,' Buchan MSS, II, 117. #b.# 'The Earl of Douglas and Dame Oliphant,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 181; 'Lord Willie Douglas,' Motherwell's MS., p. 619.

#C.# 'Douglass Dale,' Kinloch MSS, V, 327.

#A# was among the fifteen ballads furnished by Mrs Brown to William Tytler in 1783, No 8. The first stanza is cited by Dr Anderson in Nichols's Illustrations, VII, 177. There is a copy in the Abbotsford MS. "Scottish Songs," fol. 16, in which the text is considerably altered; stanzas 7, 12, 19, 22-24 are omitted, and 25 is inserted between 30 and 31. #B b# inserts two stanzas after #B a# 15, and adds one at the end. The copy in Christie's Traditional Ballad Airs, II, 32, is an abridgment of #B b# as made over in The Ballad Minstrelsy of Scotland, Glasgow, 1871, p. 63. #C# has an appendage of two stanzas which belong to another ballad, and are transferred accordingly.

The first part of the story of this ballad, or down to the birth of the boy, is repeated in 'Willie and Earl Richard's Daughter' (hitherto called 'The Birth of Robin Hood'), which immediately follows. This portion of the ballad has resemblances to 'Leesome Brand,' No 15.[167]

#A# 9, #B# 15, is a popular passage the like of which is found in many ballads: as 'Child Waters,' #A# 2, 3; 'Lady Maisry,' #H# 7, 8; 'Willie o Winsbury,' #A# 5, #C# 5, #D# 3; 'Willie and Earl Richard's Daughter, '#A# 4; 'Der Ritter und die Magd,' Düntzer u. Herder, Briefe Goethe's, I, 157, st. 6; Nicolai, I, 40, No 2, st. 6; Wunderhorn, 1806, I, 50, st. 11, Erk, IV, 304, st. 5; Erk's Liederhort, p. 81, st. 10; Hoffmann u. Richter, No. 4, st. 4; Meier, Schwäbische Volkslieder, No 177, st. 9; Ditfurth, II, Nos 6, 7, 8, st. 5; Uhland, No 97 #A#, st. 5; Mittler, No 91, st. 6; 'Schön Elselein,' 'Das Schwabentöchterlein,' Böhme, No 51^a, st. 11, No 51^b, st. 8 (==Mittler, No 218; Uhland, No 257); 'Þiðriks kvæði konúngs,' Íslenzk fornkvæði, II, 218, No 57, st. 6; Haupt u. Schmaler, V. l. der Wenden, I, 160, No 136, st. 7; Sakellarios, Τà Κυπριακá, III, 52, No 20, vv 5-9; Guillon, Ch. p. de l'Ain, 'La Fille d'un Boulanger,' p. 201, sts 1, 2; Milá, Romancerillo, 'La infanta seducida,' p. 249, No 258, l. 4; 'De la infanta y el hijo del rey de Francia,' Wolf y Hofmann, Primavera, II, 91, No 158, verses 5, 6; Aigner, Ungarische Volksdichtungen, p. 86, st. 1, p. 215, st. 2.

The very ill-timed question in #B# 20 occurs in 'Young Hunting,' No 68, #K# 8, 'Clerk Saunders,' No 69, #F# 5, Buchan, Ballads of the North of Scotland, 'Auld Matrons,' II, 238, st. 4, and 'Willie's Fatal Visit,' II, 260, st. 7. For others in this passage see 'Rose the Red and White Lily.' The bribe of gowns in #B# 29 is found in 'Young Hunting,' #B# 9, #C# 7, #K# 13.

The historical foundation for this ballad suggested in The Ballad Minstrelsy of Scotland, Glasgow, 1871, p. 63, cannot be seriously entertained.

Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 8.

1 O Willy was as brave a lord As ever saild the sea, And he has gane to the English court, To serve for meat and fee.

2 He had nae been at the kingis court A twelvemonth and a day, Till he longd for a sight o the king's daughter, But ane he coud never see.

3 O it fell ance upon a day To the green wood she has gane, An Willy he has followd her, With the clear light o the moon.

4 He looted him low, by her did go, Wi his hat intill his hand: 'O what's your will wi me, Sir Knight? I pray keep your hat on.'

5 'O I am not a knight, Madam, Nor never thinks to be; For I am Willy o Douglassdale, An I serve for meat and fee.'

6 'O I'll gang to my bowr,' she says, 'An sigh baith even an morn That ever I saw your face, Willy, Or that ever ye was born.

7 'O I'll gang to my bowr,' she says, 'An I'll pray baith night an day, To keep me frae your tempting looks, An frae your great beauty.'

8 O in a little after that He keepit Dame Oliphant's bowr, An the love that passd between this twa, It was like paramour.

9 'O narrow, narrow's my gown, Willy, That wont to be sae wide; An short, short is my coats, Willy, That wont to be sae side; An gane is a' my fair colour, An low laid is my pride.

10 'But an my father get word of this, He'll never drink again; An gin my mother get word of this, In her ain bowr she'll go brain; An gin my bold brothers get word this, I fear, Willy, you'll be slain.'

11 'O will you leave your father's court, An go along wi me? I'll carry you unto fair Scotland, And mak you a lady free.'

12 She pat her han in her pocket An gae him five hunder poun: 'An take you that now, Squire Willy, Till awa that we do won.'

13 Whan day was gane, and night was come, She lap the castle-wa; But Willy kepit his gay lady, He was laith to let her fa.

14 Whan night was gane, an day come in, An lions gaed to their dens, An ay the lady followd him, An the tears came hailing down.

15 'O want ye ribbons to your hair? Or roses to your shoone? Or want ye as meickle dear bought love As your ain heart can contain?'

16 'I want nae ribbons to my hair, Nor roses till my shoone; An Ohone, alas, for dear bought love! I have mair nor I can contain.'

17 O he's pu'd the oak in good green wood, An he's made to her a fire; He coverd it oer wi withred leaves, An gard it burn thro ire.

18 He made a bed i the good green wood, An he's laid his lady down, An he's coverd her oer wi fig-tree leaves, But an his ain night-gown.

19 'O had I a bunch o yon red roddins, That grows in yonder wood, But an a drink o water clear, I think it woud do me good.'

20 He's pu'd her a bunch o yon red roddins, That grew beside yon thorn, But an a drink o water clear, Intill his hunting-horn.

21 He's bent his bow, and shot the deer, An thro the green wood gane, An ere that he came back again His lady took travailing.

22 'O up ye tak that horn,' she says, 'An ye blaw a blast for me; Gin my father be in good green wood, Sae seen's he'll come me ti.'

23 'O gin there be a man on earth That ye loo better nor me, Ye blaw the horn yoursel,' he says, 'For it's never be blawn by me.'

24 O he's bent his bow, an shot the deer, An thro the green wood has he gane, An lang or he came back again His lady bare him a son.

25 O up has he tane his bonny young son, An washn him wi the milk, An up has he tane his gay lady, An rowd her i the silk.

26 He's bent his bow, and shot the deer, An thro the green wood has he gane, Till he met wi a well-fard may, Her father's flock feeding.

27 'Ye leave your father's flock feeding, An go along wi me; I'll carry you to a lady fair, Will gi you both meat and fee.'

28 O whan she came the lady before, She's fa'n down on her knee: 'O what's your will wi me, my dame? An a dame you seem to be.'

29 'O I'm Dame Oliphant, the king's daughter, Nae doubt but ye've heard o me; Will you leave your father's flock feeding, An go to Scotlan wi me?

30 'An ye sal get a nouriship Intill an earldome, An I will gar provide for the To marry some brave Scotsman.'

31 The may she keepit the bonny boy, An Willy led his lady, Untill they took their fair shippin, Then quikly hame came they.

32 The win was fair, an the sea was clear, An they a' wan safe to lan; He's haild her lady of Douglassdale, Himsel the lord within.

#a.# Buchan MSS, II, 117. #b.# Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 181; Motherwell's MS., p. 619.

1 Willie was an earl's ae son, And an earl's ae son was he, But he thought his father lack to sair, And his mother of low degree.

2 But he is on to fair England, To sair for meat an fee, And all was for Dame Oliphant, A woman of great beauty.

3 He hadna been in fair England A month but barely ane, Ere he dreamd that fair Dame Oliphant Gied him a gay gold ring.

4 He hadna been in fair England A month but barely four, Ere he dreamd that fair Dame Oliphant Gied him a red rose flower, Well set about with white lilies, Like to the paramour.

5 It fell ance upon a day Dame Oliphant thought lang, And she gaed on to good green wood, As fast as she could gang.

6 As Willie stood in his chamber-door, And as he thought it good, There he beheld Dame Oliphant, As she came thro the wood.

7 He's taen his bow his arm oer, His sword into his hand, And he is on to good green wood, As fast as he could gang.

8 And there he found Dame Oliphant, Was lying sound asleep, And aye the sounder she did sleep The nearer he did creep.

9 But when she wakend from her sleep An angry maid was she, Crying, Had far away frae me, young man, Had far away frae me! For I fear ye are the Scottish knight That beguiles young ladies free.

10 'I am not the Scottish knight, Nor ever thinks to be; I am but Willie o Douglass Dale, That serves for meat an fee.'

11 'If ye be Willie o Douglass Dale, Ye're dearly welcome to me; For oft in my sleep have I thought on You and your merry winking ee.'

12 But the cocks they crew, and the horns blew, And the lions took the hill, And Willie he gaed hame again, To his hard task and till; And likewise did Dame Oliphant, To her book and her seam.

13 Till it fell ance upon a day Dame Oliphant thought lang, And she went on to Willie's bower-yates, As fast as she could gang.

14 'O are ye asleep now, Squire Willie? O are you asleep?' said she; O waken, waken, Squire Willie, O waken, and speak to me.

15 'For the gowns that were oer wide, Willie, They winna meet on me, And the coats that were oer side, Willie, They winna come to my knee; And if the knights of my father's court get word, I'm sure they'll gar you die.'

* * * * * * *

16 But she's taen a web of the scarlet, And she tare it fine an sma, And even into Willie's arms She leapt the castle-wa; And Willie was wight and well able, And he keept her frae a fa.

17 But the cocks they crew, and the horns blew, And the lions took the hill, And Willie's ladie followed him, And the tears did twinkle still.

18 'O want ye ribbons to your hair? Or roses to your sheen? Or want ye chains about your neck? Ye'se get mair ere that be deen.'

19 'I want not ribbons to my hair, Nor roses to my sheen, And there's mair chains about my neck Nor ever I'll see deen; But I have as much dear bought love As my heart can contain.'

20 'Will ye go to the cards or dice? Or to the table ee? Or to a bed, so well down spread, And sleep till it be day?'

21 'I've mair need of the roddins, Willie, That grow on yonder thorn; Likewise a drink o Marywell water, Out of your grass-green horn.

22 'I've mair need of a fire, Willie, To had me frae the cauld; Likewise a glass of your red wine, Ere I bring my son to the fauld.'

23 He's got a bush o roddins till her, That grows on yonder thorn; Likewise a drink o Marywell water, Out of his grass-green horn.

24 He carried the match in his pocket That kindled to her the fire, Well set about wi oaken spells, That learnd oer Lincolnshire.

25 And he has bought to his lady The white bread and the wine; And the milk he milked from the goats, He fed his young son on.

26 Till it fell ance upon a day Dame Oliphant thought lang: 'O gin ye hae a being, Willie, I pray ye hae me hame.'

27 He's taen his young son in his arms, His lady by the hand, And they're down thro good green wood, As fast as they could gang.

28 Till they came to a shepherd-may, Was feeding her flocks alone; Said, Will ye gae alang wi me, And carry my bonny young son?

29 The gowns that were shapen for my back, They shall be sewd for thine; And likewise I'll gar Squire Willie Gie you a braw Scotsman.

30 When they came on to Willie's bower-yates, And far beyont the sea, She was haild the lady o Douglass Dale, And Willie an earl to be: Likewise the maid they brought awa, She got a braw Scotsman.

Kinloch MSS, V, 327, in the handwriting of Dr John Hill Burton.

1 Sweet Sir William of Douglas Dale, A knight's ae son was he; He dreamed of dear Dame Oliphant, Lang ere he did her see.

2 He dreamed a woman of great beauty Gave him a red rose flower, Well busket about wi the lillies white, Just like the paramour.

3 O sweet Sir William of Douglas Dale, A knight's ae son was he, And he is on to the king's high court, To serve for meat and fee.

* * * * * * *

4 Five hundred pounds of Spanish gold, Tied in a towal so white, And that she has given her Lord William, Out oer the castle-dyke.

5 Five hundred pounds of Spanish gold, Tied in a towel sae sma, And that she has given her own true-love, Out ore the castle-wa.

6 She rowed hersell in a robe o silk, To loup the castle-wa; He ceppet her in his armes twa, And he let not her get a fa.

* * * * * * *

7 The cocks do craw, and the day does daw, And the wild fowl bodes on hill; The lassie she followed her Sweet William, And let the tears down fall.

* * * * * * *

8 'O want you ribbons to your hair? Or roses to your sheen? Or want ye as much of feel daft love As your heart can contain?'

9 'I want nor ribbons to my hair, Nor roses to my sheen; I've got as much o dear bought love As my heart can contain.'

* * * * * * *

10 He carried a flint in his pocket, And he strack to her a fire, And he buskit it roun wi the leaves o oak, And gart it burn wi ire.

11 He's taen his big coat him about, And his gun into his hand, And he has gone to good green wood, To kill some venison.

12 He's taen his big coat him about, And his gun into his han, But lang ere he came back again She bare his dear young son.

13 He rowed her in his muckle coat, But in his good night-gown, And he fed her wi the good goat-milk, Till she was well able to gang.

14 He's taen his young son in his arm, His lady in his hand, And they are down thro good green wood, As fast as they can gang.

15 And they came to a shepherd's daughter, Was feeding at her sheep; Says, Will ye go to Douglass Dale, Wi my yong son to keep?

16 O I will gee you gold, maiden, And I will gee you fee, Gin ye will go to Douglas Dale, Wi my yong son and me.

17 She's taen his young son in her arm, And kissed baith cheek and chin; Says, I will go to Douglas Dale, As fast as I can win.

18 He's taen his big coat him about, And his lady in his hand, And they are off to Douglas Dale, As fast as they can gang.

19 And when they came to Douglas Dale A happy man was he, For his lady, and his young son, And his nurse, a' three.

* * * * *

#A.#

_The stanzas are written in the MS. in two long lines. The first stanza, as given by Anderson, is:_

Willie was as brave a lord As ever saild the sea, And he's gone to the English court, To serve for meat and fee.

1^3. Enlish.

6^2, 7^2, 14^1, 24^1. & for an.

22^4. tie(?).

24^1. the bow.

#B. a.#

27^3. And there.

#b.#

15^1. Omits For.

After 15, inserts:

'Dame Oliphant, Dame Oliphant, A king's daughter are ye; But woud ye leave your father and mother, And gang awa wi me?'

'O I woud leave my father and mother, And the nearest that eer betide, And I woud nae be feard to gang, Gin ye war by my side.

17^4. trinkle.

19^3. there are.

19^4. Then ever.

20^2. table play.

23^2. grow.

26^4. pray you.

After 30, inserts:

And lang and happy did they live, But now their days are deen, And in the kirk o sweet Saint Bride Their graves are growing green.

Motherwell makes some alterations in his copy: as 1^3, ~laigh to sair~; 12^4, ~and toil~; ~whateer~, in the second line of the second inserted stanza, above; besides others which are purely arbitrary. He has ~table eye~ in 20^2, where Buchan prints ~table play~, and ~living~, with ~being~ written over, in 26^3.

#C.#

3^1, 8^1, 16^1. Oh.

6^3. ceppit?

16^{1, 2}. gie?

There are appended to this version two stanzas of which Burton says: The reciter of this ballad is obstinate in persisting that the last two stanzas belong to it. They are evidently taken from 'The Birth of Robin Hood,' and have no connection with this ballad. See the following ballad.

[167] For the five hundred pounds in #A# 12, #C# 4, 5, cf. 'Leesome Brand,' #A# 12, 18, and the corresponding Scandinavian ballads.

102

WILLIE AND EARL RICHARD'S DAUGHTER

#A.# 'The Birth of Robin Hood,' Jamieson's Popular Ballads, II, 44.

#B.# 'The Birth of Robin Hood,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 1.

#C.# Kinloch's MSS, V, 330 f, two stanzas.

#A# was taken down from Mrs Brown's recitation by Jamieson in 1800, and published in his collection in 1806, "without the alteration of a single word." #C# wrongly forms the conclusion of 'Willie o Douglas Dale,' the preceding ballad. The copy in Christie's Traditional Ballad Airs, #I#, 128, is an abridgment of #B#, with a very few trivial changes.

The first half of the story in #A#, 1-9, is that of 'Willie of Douglas Dale,' #A#, 1-24, and there is a partial verbal correspondence.[168] In the latter a shepherd's daughter is engaged as nurse to the boy born in the wood, and Dame Oliphant is taken home by her lover and made lady of Douglas Dale. In the present ballad the lady's father tracks his daughter to the wood, finds the new-born child, adopts him as his grandson, and gives him the name Robin Hood, Willie [Archibald] disappearing from the scene.

The first part of #B# 4-18 is a variety of the wide-spread tragic ballad of 'Leesome Brand,' No 15. So, also, is the larger part of 'Willie o Douglas Dale,' with the tragic features dropped.

This ballad certainly does not belong to the cycle of Robin Hood, and for this reason the title hitherto borne by it could not be retained. The connection with Robin Hood was in all probability mediated by the name Brown Robin. Brown Robin plays the part of Willie [Archibald] in 'Rose the Red and White Lily,' #A# 25-29. Brown Robin's son, in 'Jellon Grame,' is called Robin after Robin Hood, #B# 14, #C# 7, 17. Brown Robin carries off his love to the wood in the ballad of the same name. The Earl of Huntingdon, #B# 3, 21, has no place in the ancient traditional ballads of Robin Hood, but is of later literary invention. #A# 17, #B# 1, #C# 1, may, however, very well have belonged to some Robin Hood ballad.

* * * * *

#A# is translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og skotske Folkeviser, p. 22, No 3.

#A#

Jamieson's Popular Ballads, II, 44, from Mrs Brown's recitation.

1 O Willie's large o limb and lith, And come o high degree, And he is gane to Earl Richard, To serve for meat and fee.

2 Earl Richard had but ae daughter, Fair as a lily-flower, And they made up their love-contract Like proper paramour.

3 It fell upon a simmer's nicht, Whan the leaves were fair and green, That Willie met his gay ladie Intil the wood alane.

4 'O narrow is my gown, Willie, That wont to be sae wide; And gane is a' my fair colour, That wont to be my pride.

5 'But gin my father should get word What's past between us twa, Before that he should eat or drink, He'd hang you oer that wa.

6 'But ye'll come to my bower, Willie, Just as the sun gaes down, And kep me in your arms twa, And latna me fa down.'

7 O whan the sun was now gane down, He's doen him till her bower, And there, by the lee licht o the moon, Her window she lookit oer.

8 Intill a robe o red scarlet She lap, fearless o harm; And Willie was large o lith and limb, And keppit her in his arm.

9 And they've gane to the gude green wood, And, ere the night was deen, She's born to him a bonny young son, Amang the leaves sae green.

10 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.

11 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 nae come to me?

12 '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.

13 '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'!'

14 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.

15 He took the bonny boy in his arms, And kist him tenderlie; Says, Though I would your father hang, Your mother's dear to me.

16 He kist him oer and oer again: 'My grandson I thee claim, And Robin Hood in gude green wood, And that shall be your name.'

17 And mony ane sings o grass, o grass, And mony ane sings o corn, And mony ane sings o Robin Hood Kens little whare he was born.

18 It wasna in the ha, the ha, Nor in the painted bower, But it was in the gude green wood, Amang the lily-flower.

#B#

Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 1.

1 Mony ane talks o the grass, the grass, And mony ane o the corn, And mony ane talks o gude Robin Hood Kens little whar he was born.

2 He was gotten in a earl's ha, And in a lady's bower, And born into gude greenwood, Thro mony cauld winter's shower.

3 His father was the earl's own steward, Sprung frae sma pedigree; His mother, Earl Huntingdon's ae daughter, For he had nane else but she.

4 When nine months were near an end, And eight months they were gone, The lady's cheeks wi tears were wet, And thus she made her moan:

5 'What shall I say, my love Archibald, This day for you and me? I will be laid in cauld irons, And ye'll be hanged on tree.'

6 'What aileth my love Clementina? What gars you mourn sae sair?' 'You know,' said she, 'I'm with child to thee, These eight lang months and mair.'

7 'Will ye gae to my mother's bower, Stands on yon stately green? Or will ye gae to the gude greenwood, Where ye will not be seen?'

8 'I winna gang to your mother's bower, Stands on yon stately green; But I will on to gude greenwood, For I will not be seen.'

9 He's girt his sword down by his side, Took his lady by the hand, And they are on thro gude greenwood, As fast as they could gang.

10 With slowly steps these couple walkd, About miles scarcely three. When this lady, being sair wearied out, Lay down beneath a tree.

11 'O for a few of yon junipers, To cheer my heart again, And likewise for a gude midwife, To ease me of my pain!'

12 'I'll bring to you yon junipers, To cheer your heart again, And I'll be to you a gude midwife, To ease you of your pain.'

13 'Had far awa frae me, Archibald, For this will never dee; That's nae the fashion o our land, And it's nae be used by me.

14 'Ye'll take your small-sword by your side, Your buckler and your bow, And ye'll gae down thro gude greenwood, And hunt the deer and roe.

15 'You will stay in gude greenwood, And with the chase go on, Until yon white hind pass you by, Then straight to me ye'll come.'

16 He's girt his sword then by his side, His buckler and his bow, And he is on thro gude greenwood, To hunt the deer and roe.

17 And in the greenwood he did stay, And with the chase gaed on, Until the white hind passd him by, Then to his love he came.

18 He girt his sword then by his side, Fast thro greenwood went he, And there he found his love lie dead, Beneath the green oak tree.

19 The sweet young babe that she had born Right lively seemed to be; 'Ohon, alas!' said young Archibald, 'A mournful scene to me!

20 'Altho my sweet babe is alive, This does increase my woe; How to nourish a motherless babe Is mair than I do know.'

21 He looked east, he looked west, To see what he could see, Then spied the Earl o Huntingdon, And mony a man him wi.

22 Then Archibald fled from the earl's face, Among the leaves sae green, That he might hear what might be said, And see, and nae be seen.

23 The earl straight thro the greenwood came, Unto the green oak tree, And there he saw his daughter dead, Her living child her wi.

24 Then he's taen up the little boy, Rowed him in his gown-sleeve; Said, Tho your father's to my loss, Your mother's to me leave.

25 And if ye live until I die, My bowers and lands ye'se heir; You are my only daughter's child; But her I never had mair.

26 Ye'se hae all kinds of nourishment, And likewise nurses three; If I knew where the fause knave were, High hanged should he be.

27 His daughter he buried in gude church-yard, All in a mournful mood, And brought the boy to church that day, And christend him Robin Hood.

28 This boy was bred in the earl's ha Till he became a man, But loved to hunt in gude greenwood, To raise his noble fame.

Kinloch MSS, V, 330 f, the last two stanzas of 'Douglass Dale.'

1 Mony ane speaks o grass, o grass, And mony mare o corn, And mony ane sings o Robin Heed Kens little whare he was born.

2 He was born in good green wood, At the fut o yon olive tree; His father was a knight's ae son, And his mother a lady free.

* * * * *

#B.#

Christie says of his copy that the words sung by his maternal grandfather "were somewhat, as far as the Editor can remember, like those given by Buchan, and that some slight alterations were made by him from the way the Editor heard the ballad sung."

The alterations in Christie's eighteen stanzas are:

1^3. mony talk.

1^4. That kenna.

8^4. Whare I will.

15^1. in the.

15^3. a white.

18^2. gaed he.

25^4. I neer.

28^1. The.

[168] Compare No 102, #A# 1^{3, 4}, and No 101, #A# 1^{3, 4}; 2^{3, 4} and 8^{3, 4}; 3 and 3; 4 and 9^{1, 2, 5, 6}; 5 and 10^{1, 2, 5, 6}; 7^1, 8^{2-4} and 13; 9^3 and 24^4. Also No 102, #A# 3, and No 101, #B# 13; 4^{1, 2}, 5^{1, 4} and 15^{1, 2, 5, 6}; 8 and 16. Also, No 102, #A# 1, and No 101, #C# 3; 8 and 6.

103

ROSE THE RED AND WHITE LILY

#A.# 'Rose the Red and White Lilly,' Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 1.

#B.# 'Rose the Red and White Lillie,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 67.

#C.# 'The Wedding of Robin Hood and Little John,' Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 69.

#A# was No 6 of the fifteen ballads written down by Mrs Brown for William Tytler in 1783: Anderson, in Nichols's Illustrations, VII, 176. This copy was printed by Scott in his Minstrelsy, II, 60, 1802, "chiefly from Mrs Brown's MS.," but with numerous alterations. Kinloch's annotated copy of his Ancient Scottish Ballads supplies an additional stanza of #C#; the 17th.

The story in #A# is that Rose the Red and White Lily have a bad step-mother, who, however, has two good sons that love these maids: Brown Robin, Lily, and Arthur, Rose. The maids build a bower, in which the young people make very merry, and the step-mother, to spoil sport, tells her sons that they must sail the sea. Brown Robin goes to the wood, and Arthur to the king's court. The maids disguise themselves as men, and take service with their lovers: White Lily under the name of Roge the Round, and Rose the Red under that of Sweet Willy. Before they part they make a mutual vow that at three blasts of a horn the one shall come to the other's help. Once upon a time, when Robin and his men are putting the stone, Roge sets it seven foot beyond all the rest, but, having exerted herself too much in so doing, is fain to lean her back against an oak and utters a moan, by which Brown Robin perceives that Roge is a woman. Forty weeks after this Roge has occasion for the aid of a bower-wife. Brown Robin proffers his help, but it is declined; nevertheless, with an apparent but not a real inconsistency, the lady asks him to blow her horn, for she has a brother at the court who will come to her upon the sound. Robin replies that if she has a brother whom she loves better than him she may blow the horn herself. This she does, and Sweet Willy comes at once. Brown Robin will let no man enter the bower without a fight. Rose the Red is wounded, and avows herself to be a woman. Brown Robin is distressed: he wished never to see a woman's blood, for the sake of a maid named White Lily. Roge the Round reveals herself as that same. Word comes to the king's court that Brown Robin's man has borne a son, and the king declares that he will go to the wood to inquire into this marvel. Arthur will go with him, to find a foot-page who had left him. Arrived at the wood, Arthur blows his horn, and Sweet Willy comes running to him. Arthur asks the page why he had run away, and is told that it was to see a brother that lives in the wood. The king enters the bower, and finds White Lily nursing her son. This leads to an explanation on the part of Rose the Red. Brown Robin, coming in from hunting, starts to see the king. The king bids him have no fear, but quit the wood and come to court. Brown Robin and White Lily, Arthur and Rose the Red, go to church and are married.

In #B# the two maids, ill-treated by their step-mother, betake themselves to the wood, where they meet, not Brown Robin, but Robin Hood, and take service with him. Rose and Lily change parts; Rose, under the name of Nicholas, consorting with Robin Hood, and Lily, alias Roger Brown, with Little John. It is not, however, Robin Hood and Little John who turn out to be their lovers, but "a lad in the company," and "another youth among the company," stanzas 30, 51. Nothing is said of the king.

In the fragmentary #C# the maids are daughters of a king. Their proper names are not given, and we do not learn that the stepmother has a pair of sons. In consequence of the harshness of their step-mother, these king's daughters go to the wood as Nicholas and Rogee Roun, to seek Robin Hood, and they are discovered to be maids by a song which Rogee sings. Rogee is wedded to Robin Hood, and Nicholas to Little John.

It is easy to see that the Robin Hood of #B#, #C#, was suggested by the Brown Robin of #A#. The name Barnsdale in #A# 12, 51 has certainly been adopted from the Robin Hood cycle, but in the present ballad is the residence of the father of Rose and Lily, not that of Robin Hood.

The only part of the ballad which has the stamp of indubitably ancient tradition is the child-birth in the wood, and this scene is the rightful, and perhaps exclusive, property of 'Leesome Brand,' No 15: see I, 182. #A# 24-29, #B# 40-47, are found again in 'Willie o Douglas Dale,' #A# 15-17, 22, 23, #B# 18, 19, 22, 24, #C# 8-10, and the first part of 'Willie o Douglas Dale,' as well as of the ballad which immediately precedes the present, commonly called 'The Birth of Robin Hood,' is a variation of 'Leesome Brand.'

Robin Hood has no love-story in any ancient ballad, though his name has been foisted into modern love-ballads, as in 'Robin Hood and the Tanner's Daughter,' No 8 #C#. Maid Marian is a late accretion. There is a piteously vulgar broadside, in which Maid Marian, being parted from Robin Hood, dresses herself "like a page" (but armed fully), meets Robin Hood, also under disguise, and has an hour's fight with him. There is so far a resemblance in this to #A# 30 ff, #B# 49, that a woman disguised as a page fights with Robin Hood. I suppose the resemblance to be accidental, but whether it be or not, the question of 'Rose the Red and White Lily' being originally a Robin Hood ballad is not affected.

#A# 3, #B# 5, is like #C# 6 of 'The Clerk's Twa Sons o Owsenford,' No 72.

* * * * *

Scott's copy is translated by Doenniges, p. 40.

Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 1.

1 O Rose the Red and White Lilly, Their mother dear was dead, And their father married an ill woman, Wishd them twa little guede.

2 Yet she had twa as fu fair sons As eer brake manis bread, And the tane of them loed her White Lilly, An the tither lood Rose the Red.

3 O biggit ha they a bigly bowr, And strawn it oer wi san, And there was mair mirth i the ladies' bowr Than in a' their father's lan.

4 But out it spake their step-mother, Wha stood a little foreby: I hope to live and play the prank Sal gar your loud sang ly.

5 She's calld upon her eldest son: Come here, my son, to me; It fears me sair, my eldest son, That ye maun sail the sea.

6 'Gin it fear you sair, my mither dear, Your bidding I maun dee; But be never war to Rose the Red Than ye ha been to me.'

7 'O had your tongue, my eldest son, For sma sal be her part; You'll nae get a kiss o her comely mouth Gin your very fair heart should break.'

8 She's calld upon her youngest son: Come here, my son, to me; It fears me sair, my youngest son, That ye maun sail the sea.

9 'Gin it fear you sair, my mither dear, Your bidding I maun dee; But be never war to White Lilly Than ye ha been to me.'

10 'O haud your tongue, my youngest son, For sma sall be her part; You'll neer get a kiss o her comely mouth Tho your very fair heart should break.'

11 When Rose the Red and White Lilly Saw their twa loves were gane, Then stopped ha they their loud, loud sang, And tane up the still mournin; And their step-mother stood listnin by, To hear the ladies' mean.

12 Then out it spake her White Lilly: My sister, we'll be gane; Why should we stay in Barnsdale, To waste our youth in pain?

13 Then cutted ha they their green cloathing A little below their knee, An sae ha they there yallow hair, A little aboon there bree; An they've doen them to haely chapel, Was christened by Our Lady.

14 There ha they chang'd their ain twa names, Sae far frae ony town, An the tane o them hight Sweet Willy, An the tither o them Roge the Roun.

15 Between this twa a vow was made, An they sware it to fulfil; That at three blasts o a bugle-horn, She'd come her sister till.

16 Now Sweet Willy's gane to the kingis court, Her true-love for to see, An Roge the Roun to good green wood, Brown Robin's man to be.

17 As it fell out upon a day They a' did put the stane, Full seven foot ayont them a' She gard the puttin-stane gang.

18 She leand her back against an oak, And gae a loud Ohone! Then out it spake him Brown Robin, But that's a woman's moan!

19 'O ken ye by my red rose lip? Or by my yallow hair? Or ken ye by my milk-white breast? For ye never saw it bare?'

20 'I ken no by your red rose lip, Nor by your yallow hair; Nor ken I by your milk-white breast, For I never saw it bare; But come to your bowr whaever sae likes, Will find a lady there.'

21 'O gin ye come to my bowr within, Thro fraud, deceit, or guile, Wi this same bran that's in my han, I swear I will the kill.'

22 'But I will come thy bowr within, An spear nae leave,' quoth he; 'An this same bran that's i my han I sall ware back on the.'

23 About the tenth hour of the night The ladie's bower-door was broken, An eer the first hour of the day The bonny knave-bairn was gotten.

24 When days were gane, and months were run, The lady took travailing, And sair she cry'd for a bowr-woman, For to wait her upon.

25 Then out it spake him Brown Robin: Now what needs a' this din? For what coud any woman do But I coud do the same?

26 ''Twas never my mither's fashion,' she says, 'Nor sall it ever be mine, That belted knights shoud eer remain Where ladies dreed their pine.

27 'But ye take up that bugle-horn, An blaw a blast for me; I ha a brother i the kingis court Will come me quickly ti.'

28 'O gin ye ha a brither on earth That ye love better nor me, Te blaw the horn yoursel,' he says, 'For ae blast I winna gie.'

29 She's set the horn till her mouth, And she's blawn three blasts sae shrill; Sweet Willy heard i the kingis court, And came her quickly till.

30 Then up it started Brown Robin, An an angry man was he: 'There comes nae man this bowr within But first must fight wi me.'

31 O they hae fought that bowr within Till the sun was gaing down, Till drops o blude frae Rose the Red Came hailing to the groun.

32 She leand her back against the wa, Says, Robin, let a' be; For it is a lady born and bred That's foughten sae well wi thee.

33 O seven foot he lap a back; Says, Alas, and wae is me! I never wisht in a' my life, A woman's blude to see; An a' for the sake of ae fair maid Whose name was White Lilly.

34 Then out it spake her White Lilly, An a hearty laugh laugh she: She's lived wi you this year an mair, Tho ye kentna it was she.

35 Now word has gane thro a' the lan, Before a month was done, That Brown Robin's man, in good green wood, Had born a bonny young son.

36 The word has gane to the kingis court, An to the king himsel; 'Now, by my fay,' the king could say, 'The like was never heard tell!'

37 Then out it spake him Bold Arthur, An a hearty laugh laugh he: I trow some may has playd the loun, And fled her ain country.

38 'Bring me my steed,' then cry'd the king, 'My bow and arrows keen; I'l ride mysel to good green wood, An see what's to be seen.'

39 'An't please your grace,' said Bold Arthur, 'My liege, I'll gang you wi, An try to fin a little foot-page, That's strayd awa frae me.'

40 O they've hunted i the good green wood The buck but an the rae, An they drew near Brown Robin's bowr, About the close of day.

41 Then out it spake the king in hast, Says, Arthur, look an see Gin that be no your little foot-page That leans against yon tree.

42 Then Arthur took his bugle-horn, An blew a blast sae shrill; Sweet Willy started at the sound, An ran him quickly till.

43 'O wanted ye your meat, Willy? Or wanted ye your fee? Or gat ye ever an angry word, That ye ran awa frae me?'

44 'I wanted nought, my master dear; To me ye ay was good; I came but to see my ae brother, That wons in this green wood.'

45 Then out it spake the king again, Says, Bonny boy, tell to me Wha lives into yon bigly bowr, Stands by yon green oak tree?

46 'O pardon me,' says Sweet Willy, 'My liege, I dare no tell; An I pray you go no near that bowr, For fear they do you fell.'

47 'O baud your tongue, my bonny boy, For I winna be said nay; But I will gang that bowr within, Betide me weel or wae.'

48 They've lighted off their milk-white steeds, An saftly enterd in, An there they saw her White Lilly, Nursing her bonny yong son.

49 'Now, by the rood,' the king coud say, This is a comely sight; I trow, instead of a forrester's man, This is a lady bright!'

50 Then out it spake her Rose the Red, An fell low down on her knee: O pardon us, my gracious liege, An our story I'll tell thee.

51 Our father was a wealthy lord, That wond in Barnsdale; But we had a wicked step-mother, That wrought us meickle bale.

52 Yet she had twa as fu fair sons As ever the sun did see, An the tane o them lood my sister dear, An the tither sayd he lood me.

53 Then out it spake him Bold Arthur, As by the king he stood: Now, by the faith o my body, This shoud be Rose the Red!

54 Then in it came him Brown Robin, Frae hunting o the deer, But whan he saw the king was there, He started back for fear.

55 The king has taen him by the hand, An bade him naithing dread; Says, Ye maun leave the good green wood, Come to the court wi speed.

56 Then up he took White Lilly's son, An set him on his knee; Says, Gin ye live to wiald a bran, My bowman ye sall bee.

57 The king he sent for robes of green, An girdles o shinning gold; He gart the ladies be arrayd Most comely to behold.

58 They've done them unto Mary Kirk, An there gat fair wedding, An fan the news spread oer the lan, For joy the bells did ring.

59 Then out it spake her Rose the Red, An a hearty laugh laugh she: I wonder what would our step-dame say, Gin she this sight did see!

Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 67.

1 Now word is gane thro a' the land, Gude seal that it sae spread! To Rose the Red and White Lillie, Their mither dear was dead.

2 Their father's married a bauld woman, And brought her ower the sea, Twa sprightly youths, her ain young sons, Intill her companie.

3 They fixd their eyes on those ladies, On shipboard as they stood, And sware, if ever they wan to land, These ladies they woud wed.

4 But there was nae a quarter past, A quarter past but three, Till these young luvers a' were fond O other's companie.

5 The knights they harped i their bower, The ladies sewd and sang; There was mair mirth in that chamer Than a' their father's lan.

6 Then out it spak their step-mither, At the stair-foot stood she: I'm plagued wi your troublesome noise! What makes your melodie?

7 O Rose the Red, ye sing too loud, White Lillie, your voice is strang; But gin I live and brook my life, I'se gar you change your sang.

8 'We maunna change our loud, loud song For nae duke's son ye'll bear; We winna change our loud, loud song, But aye we'll sing the mair.

9 'We never sung the sang, mither, But we'll sing ower again; We'll take our harps into our hands, And we'll harp, and we'll sing.'

10 She's calld upon her twa young sons, Says, Boun ye for the sea; Let Rose the Red and White Lillie Stay in their bower wi me.

11 'O God forbid,' said her eldest son, 'Nor lat it ever be, Unless ye were as kind to our luves As gin we were them wi.'

12 'Yet never the less, my pretty sons, Ye'll boun you for the faem; Let Rose the Red and White Lillie Stay in their bowers at hame.'

13 'O when wi you we came alang, We felt the stormy sea, And where we go, ye neer shall know, Nor shall be known by thee.'

14 Then wi her harsh and boisterous word She forc'd these lads away, While Rose the Red and White Lillie Still in their bowers did stay.

15 But there was not a quarter past, A quarter past but ane, Till Rose the Red in rags she gaed, White Lillie's claithing grew thin.

16 Wi bitter usage every day, The ladies they thought lang; 'Ohon, alas!' said Rose the Red, 'She's gard us change our sang.

17 'But we will change our own fu names, And we'll gang frae the town, Frae Rose the Red and White Lillie To Nicholas and Roger Brown.

18 'And we will cut our green claithing A little aboon our knee, And we will on to gude greenwood, Twa bauld bowmen to be.'

19 'Ohon, alas!' said White Lillie, 'My fingers are but sma, And tho my hands woud wield the bow, They winna yield at a'.'

20 'O had your tongue now, White Lillie, And lat these fears a' be; There's naething that ye're awkward in But I will learn thee.'

21 Then they are on to gude greenwood, As fast as gang coud they; O then they spied him Robin Hood, Below a green aik tree.

22 'Gude day, gude day, kind sir,' they said, 'God make you safe and free:' 'Gude day, gude day,' said Robin Hood, 'What is your wills wi me?'

23 'Lo here we are, twa banishd knights, Come frae our native hame; We're come to crave o thee service, Our king will gie us nane.'

24 'If ye be twa young banishd knights, Tell me frae what countrie:' 'Frae Anster town into Fifeshire; Ye know it as well as we.'

25 'If a' be true that ye hae said, And tauld just now to me, Ye're welcome, welcome, every one; Your master I will be.

26 'Now ye shall eat as I do eat, And lye as I do lye; Ye salna wear nae waur claithing Nor my young men and I.'

27 Then they went to a ruinous house, And there they enterd in, And Nicholas fed wi Robin Hood, And Roger wi Little John.

28 But it fell ance upon a day They were at the putting-stane, Whan Rose the Red she viewd them a', As they stood on the green.

29 She hit the stane then wi her foot, And kepd it wi her knee, And spaces three aboon them a' I wyte she gard it flee.

30 She sat her back then to a tree, And gae a loud Ohon! A lad spak in the companie, I hear a woman's moan.

31 'How know you that, young man?' she said, 'How know you that o me? Did eer ye see me in that place Ae foot my ground to flee?

32 'Or know ye by my cherry cheeks? Or by my yellow hair? Or by the paps on my breast-bane? Ye never saw them bare.'

33 'I know not by your cherry cheeks, Nor by your yellow hair; But I know by your milk-white chin, On it there grows nae hair.

34 'I never saw you in that cause Ae foot your ground to flee; I've seen you stan wi sword in han Mang men's blood to the knee.

35 'But if I come your bower within, By night, or yet by day, I shall know before I go If ye be man or may.'

36 'O if you come my bower within, By night, or yet by day, As soon's I draw my trusty brand, Nae lang ye'll wi me stay.'

37 But he is haunted to her bower, Her bigly bower o stane, Till he has got her big wi bairn, And near sax months she's gane.

38 Whan three mair months were come and gane, They gaed to hunt the hynde; She wont to be the foremost ane, But now stayd far behynd.

39 Her luver looks her in the face, And thus to her said he; I think your cheeks are pale and wan; Pray, what gaes warst wi thee?

40 O want ye roses to your breast? Or ribbons to your sheen? Or want ye as muckle o dear bought luve As your heart can conteen?

41 'I want nae roses to my breast, Nae ribbons to my sheen; Nor want I as muckle dear bought luve As my heart can conteen.

42 'I'd rather hae a fire behynd, Anither me before, A gude midwife at my right side, Till my young babe be bore.'

43 'I'll kindle a fire wi a flint-stane, Bring wine in a green horn; I'll be midwife at your right side, Till your young babe be born.'

44 'That was neer my mither's custom, Forbid that it be mine! A knight stan by a lady bright Whan she drees a' her pine.

45 'There is a knight in gude greenwood, If that he kent o me, Thro stock and stane and the hawthorn Sae soon's he woud come me tee.'

46 'If there be a knight in gude greenwood Ye like better than me, If ance he come your bower within, Ane o us twa shall dee.'

47 She set a horn to her mouth, And she blew loud and shrill; Thro stock and stane and the hawthorn Brave Roger came her till.

48 'Wha's here sae bauld,' the youth replied, 'Thus to encroach on me?' 'O here I am,' the knight replied, 'Hae as much right as thee.'

49 Then they fought up the gude greenwood, Sae did they down the plain; They niddart ither wi lang braid-swords, Till they were bleedy men.

50 Then out it spak the sick woman, Sat under the greenwood tree; O had your han, young man, she said, She's a woman as well as me.

51 Then out it speaks anither youth, Amang the companie; Gin I had kent what I ken now, 'T is for her I woud dee.

52 'O wae mat worth you, Rose the Red, An ill death mat ye dee! Altho ye tauld upo yoursell, Ye might hae heald on me.'

53 'O for her sake I was content For to gae ower the sea; For her I left my mither's ha, Tho she proves fause to me.'

54 But whan these luvers were made known, They sung right joyfullie, Nae blyther was the nightingale, Nor bird that sat on tree.

55 Now they hae married these ladies, Brought them to bower and ha; And now a happy life they lead; I wish sae may we a'.

Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, annotated by the editor, p. 69.

1 The king has wedded an ill woman, Into some foreign land; His daughters twa, that stood in awe, They bravely sat and sang.

2 Then in became their step-mother, Sae stately steppin ben: 'O gin I live and bruik my life, I'll gar ye change your tune.'

3 'O we sang neer that sang, ladie, But we will sing again; And ye neer boor that son, ladie, We wad lay our love on.

4 'But we will cow our yellow locks A little abune our bree, And we will on to gude greenwud, And serve for meat and fee.

5 'And we will kilt our gay claithing A little below the knee, And we will on to gude greenwud, Gif Robin Hood we see.

6 'And we will change our ain twa names, When we gae frae the toun; The tane we will call Nicholas, The tither Rogee Roun.'

7 Then they hae cowd their yellow locks A little abune their bree, And they are on to gude greenwud, To serve for meat and fee.

8 And they hae kilt their gay claithing A little below their knee, And they are on to gud greenwud, Gif Robin Hood they see.

9 And they hae chang'd thair ain twa names, Whan they gaed frae the toun; The tane they've called Nicholas, The tither Rogee Roun.

10 And they hae staid in gude greenwud, And never a day thoucht lang, Till it fell ance upon a day That Rogee sang a sang.

11 'Whan we were in our father's bouer, We sewd the silken seam; But now we walk the gude greenwud, And bear anither name.

12 'When we were in our father's ha, We wore the beaten gold; But now we wear the shield sae sharp; Alas, we'll die with cold!'

13 Then up bespak him Robin Hood, As he to them drew near: 'Instead of boys to carry the bow, Two ladies we've got here'

14 So they had not been in gud greenwud A twalmonth and a day, Till Rogee Roun was as big wi bairn As onie lady could gae.

15 'O wae be to my stepmother, That garrd me leave my hame! For I'm wi bairn to Robin Hood, And near nine month is gane.

16 'O wha will be my bouer-woman? Na bouer-woman is here; O wha will be my bouer-woman, Whan that sad time draws near?'

17 Then up bespak him Robin Hood, At the foot o yon greenwud tree: O hold your tongue, fair Rogee Roun, For married ye sall be.

18 The tane was wedded to Robin Hood, And the tither to Little John; And it was a' owing to their stepmother, That garrd them leave their hame.

* * * * *

#A.#

Written, like all the ballads in the MS., in stanzas of two long lines.

1. Anderson cites this stanza, giving the last line, Wist them twa little quee'd.

8^1. younges.

8^3. youngst.

13^1. greed.

21^4. sear.

26^3. beltest kights.

47^4. well?

49^1. the the king.

Scott's variations, the contrary not being alleged, must be supposed to be his own. Scott inserts after 10:

Sae Bauld Arthur's gane to our king's court, His hie chamberlain to be; But Brown Robin he has slain a knight, And to grene wood he did flee.

_11^{5, 6} are 12^{1, 2} in the MS., making a stanza with 12^{1, 2}; 12^{3, 4} make an eight-line stanza with 13. 11^{5, 6} are omitted by Scott._

13^{5, 6} make the last half of a stanza in Scott, which begins:

And left hae they that bonny bour, To cross the raging sea.

20^{3, 4} are omitted by Scott.

33^{5, 6} make the last half of a stanza in Scott, which runs:

And that all for the knightly vow I swore to Our Ladye, But mair, etc.

57 follows 53 in Scott, and 59 is omitted.

#B.#

7^2. While Lillie.

43^2. horn green.

104

PRINCE HEATHEN

#A.# 'The Disconsolate Lady,' The Jovial Rake's Garland, n. d., p. 6, No 4.

#B.# 'Prince Heathen,' Buchan's MSS, I, 97; Motherwell's MS., p. 665.

The fragment #A# (pointed out to me by Svend Grundtvig) is partly explained by #B#, which is no doubt some stall-copy, reshaped from tradition. Motherwell's copy was derived from Buchan.

The story, which reads like an old one extremely corrupted, is none too intelligible even in the longer form. Lady Margery is sitting in her bower-door. Prince Heathen comes by and gives her a ring. She refuses him her love. He swears that he will make her greet; she swears that he shall not. He takes her maidenhead: still she will not greet. He tells her that he has killed her father, mother, and seven brothers: still she will not greet. He puts her in a vault of stone, fastened with five and thirty locks: she will not greet [go, #A#], but rues. He comes back from the mountains, and asks her how she is faring. Dying, she says. He takes her out upon the green, allowing her no female service, and she brings forth a son. How is it with her now? Dying. She asks for a drink of water: he will not give her a drop until she wraps up her young son. She has nothing to wrap the babe in; he gives her his horse-sheet; her tears fall fast. "Bonny may, now you greet!" he exclaims ["will you go now?" #A#]. But she greets not for him; it is for her young son, wrapped so roughly. Prince Heathen, satisfied, as far as we can see, now that he has subdued her proud will, orders his son to be rolled in silk and washed in milk, according to the usage of Scottish nursery: see No 5, #B# 61, #C# 82, 83, #E# 32, #F# 57, #G# 33; No 20, #C# 8; No 63, #B# 35, #C# 35, #F# 22, #J# 47; No 101, #A# 25. Having broken her spirit, he loves her well.

The Jovial Rake's Garland, n. d., p. 6, No 4, Bodleian Library, Douce PP, 164.

1 Lady Margery May sits in her bower, Sewing at her seem; By there comes a heathen knight, From her her maidenhead has tane.

2 He has put her in a tower strong, With double locks on fifty doors: 'Lady Margery May, will you ga now?' 'O ye heathen knight, not yet for you.

3 'I am asking, you heathen knight; What I am asking will you grant to me? Will ye let one of your waitmen A drink of your well bring to me?'

4 'Meat nor drink you shall never get, Nor out of that shall you never come, Meat nor drink shall you never get, Until you bear to me daughter or son.'

5 Thus time drew on, and further on, For travail came this young lady to; She travailed up, so did she down, But lighter could she never be.

6 'An asking, an asking, you heathen knight; An asking will you grant to me? Will you give me a scread of silk, For to row your young son wi?'

7 He took the horse-sheet in his hand, The tears came twinkling down: 'Lady Margaret May, will ye ga now?' 'O ye heathen knight, not yet for you.'

8 'I'll wash my young son with the milk, I will dry my young son with the silk; For hearts will break, and bands will bow; So dear will I love my lady now!'

Buchan's MSS, I, 97; Motherwell's MS., p. 665.

1 Lady Margaret sat in her bower-door, Sewing at her silken seem, When by it came Prince Heathen then, An gae to her a gay gold ring.

2 He turnd about, an gied a bow; She said, Begone, I love na you; When he sware by his yellow hair That he woud gar her greet fu sair.

3 But she sware by her milk-white skin Prince Heathen shoud gar her greet nane: 'O bonny may, winna ye greet now?' 'Ye heathenish dog, nae yet for you.'

4 He's taen her in his arms twa, Laid her between him an the wa, An ere he let her free again, Her maidenhead frae her he's taen. 'O bonny may, winna ye greet now?' 'Ye heathenish dog, nae yet for you.'

5 'I killd your father in his bed, And your gay mother by his side, And your seven brothers, ane by ane, And they were seven pretty men. O bonny may, winna ye greet now?' 'Ye heathenish dog, nae yet for you.'

6 'I'll put you in a vault o stone, Where five an thirty locks hing on; Naebody there then shall you see, For I will keep the keys wi me. O bonny may, winna ye greet now?' 'Ye heathenish dog, nae yet for you.'

7 He's put her in a vault o stone, Where five an thirty locks hing on; Naebody there coud eer her see, Prince Heathen kept the keys him wi. But ae she cried, What shall I do! The heathenish dog has gart me rue.

8 Prince Heathen from the mountains came, Attended by his armed men, And he's gane to the bonny may, And to the prison where she lay: 'O bonny may, what do you now?' 'Ye heathenish dog, dying for you.'

9 'I'll take you out upon the green, Where women ye shall neer see ane, But only me and my young men, Till ye bring daughter hame or son. O bonny may, what do you now?' 'Ye heathenish dog, dying for you.'

10 He's taen her out upon the green, Where she saw women never ane, But only him and 's merry young men, Till she brought hame a bonny young son. 'O bonny may, what do you now?' 'Ye heathenish dog, dying for you.

11 'A drink, a drink, frae Prince Heathen's hand, Though it were frae yon cauld well strong!' 'O neer a drap, Prince Heathen,' said one, 'Till ye row up your bonny young son.' 'How can I row up my bonny young son, When I hae naething to row him in?'

12 'I will lend you my horse's sheet, That will row him baith head and feet.' As soon's she took it in her han, Tears oer her cheeks down rapping ran. 'O bonny may, ye do greet now:' 'Ye heathenish dog, but nae for you.

13 'But a' is for my bonny young son; Your sheets are rough to row him in; Ohon, alas, sair may I rue That eer I saw such rogues as you!'

14 'Ye'll row my young son in the silk, An ye will wash him wi the milk, An lay my lady very saft, That I may see her very aft.' When hearts are broken, bands will bow; Sae well's he loved his lady now!

* * * * *

#A.#

3^3. writmen.

5^2. too.

#B.#

11^2. wells. Motherwell MS. well.

There are some trifling deviations in Motherwell's copy.

105

THE BAILIFF'S DAUGHTER OF ISLINGTON

#a.# Printed for P. Brooksby, Boxburghe Ballads, II, 457. #b.# Printed for J. Walter, Douce Ballads, II, fol. 229. #c.# Printed for P. Brooksby, Pepys Ballads, III, 258, No 256. #d.# Printed for P. Brooksby, Roxburghe Ballads, IV, 56. #e.# Printed for P. Brooksby, Douce Ballads, II, fol. 230. #f.# An Aldermary Churchyard copy.

Reprinted in Percy's Reliques, III, 133, 1765, from the Pepys copy, #c#, but "with some improvements, communicated by a lady as she heard the same repeated in her youth;" that is, in fact, a few casual verbal variations, attributable to imperfect recollection of a broadside. There are much better in a copy which I have received from an Irish lady, partly made over by secondary tradition. Reprinted also by Ritson, A Select Collection of English Songs, II, 234, 1783, apparently from #a#, with an arbitrary change in st. 8^2, and one or two other variations. Mr F. H. Stoddard informs me that 'The Bailiff's Daughter' is still very much sung, and may be heard any day at a country cricket-match.

A fond youth and a coy maid, a bailiff's daughter, having been parted seven years, the maid disguises herself to go in quest of her lover, and meets him on her way. He asks her whether she knows the bailiff's daughter. The bailiff's daughter is dead long ago, she replies. Then he will go into a far country. The maid, assured of his faith, reveals herself, and is ready to be his bride.

This is the counterpart of a ballad found in other languages (and represented in English by Percy's cento 'The Friar of Orders Gray,' Reliques, I, 225, 1765), in which a man tells a woman that the object of her affection, lover, or more commonly husband, is dead. So runs the story in the following:

#Italian.# Marcoaldi, Canti popolari umbri, etc., p. 151, 'La prova d'amore,' Piedmontese; Gianandrea, C. p. marchigiani, p. 270, No 7, 'La prova d'amore;' Ferraro, C. p. monferrini, p. 60, No 41, 'Il ritorno,' and C. p. di Ferrara, Cento e Pontelagoscuro, p. 16, No 4, p. 105, No 18; Bernoni, C. p. veneziani, Punt. IX, No 1, 'Il ritorno dalla guerra;' Wolf, Volkslieder aus Venetien, No 91, 'La ragazza ed i soldati;' Bolza, Canzoni p. comasche, No 53, 'Il riconoscimento;' Finamore, Storie p. abruzzesi, Archivio, I, 91, No 6, 'Rusine e Ddiamóre;' Kestner, in Reifferscheid, Westfälische V. 1., p. 156, Roman.

#Spanish.# 'Caballero de lejas tierras,' Juan de Ribera, Nueve Romances, 1605, in Duran, I, 175, No 318, Wolf y Hofmann, Primavera, II, 88, No 156, and a traditional version in a note of Duran, as above, repeated in Primavera. #Catalan.# 'La vuelta del peregrino,' Milá, Observaciones, p. 111, No 12, 'El peregrino,' Romancerillo, p. 154, No 203; 'La tornada del pelegrí,' Briz, V, 65.

#Portuguese.# 'Bella Infanta,' Almeida-Garrett, II, 7; Bellermann, p. 100, No 12; Braga, C. p. do Archipelago açoriano, p. 298, No 41, Romanceiro Geral, p. 1, 'Dona Infanta,' p. 4, 'Dona Catherina;' Coelho, in Zeitschrift für romanische Philologie, III, 63, 1879 (imperfect).

#Romaic.# 'Ἡ αναγνωρισις,' Zambelios, p. 718, No 5, Kind, Anthologie, 1861, p. 126, No 5, Passow, No 442: 'Ἡ πιστη συζυγος,' Evlambios, p. 58, Marcellus, I, 332, Passow, No 444; Tommaseo, III, 148, Passow, No 445, and III, 150, Passow, No 446; Schmidt, Griechische M., S., u. V. 1., p. 192, No 57 (see note, p. 272); Marcellus, I, 328, Passow, No 441; 'Αναγνωρισμος,' Chasiotis, p. 89, No 28; Aravandinos, Nos 347-349, pp. 209-211; 'Το γυρισμα,' Oikonomides, p. 132; Jeannaraki, p. 237, No 300, with perverted conclusion; Fauriel, II, 396, Passow, No 447 (fragment). Aravandinos, No 348, is translated by Miss Garnett, Greek Folk Songs, p. 163.

* * * * *

Translated by Bodmer, I, 82; Döring, p. 85; Arndt, p. 193; Von Marées, p. 45; Knortz, Lieder u. Romanzen Alt-Englands, No 64.

1 There was a youth, and a well belovd youth, And he was a esquire's son, He loved the bayliff's daughter dear, That lived in Islington.

2 She was coy, and she would not believe That he did love her so, No, nor at any time she would Any countenance to him show.

3 But when his friends did understand His fond and foolish mind, They sent him up to fair London, An apprentice for to bind.

4 And when he had been seven long years, And his love he had not seen, 'Many a tear have I shed for her sake When she little thought of me.'

5 All the maids of Islington Went forth to sport and play; All but the bayliff's daughter dear; She secretly stole away.

6 She put off her gown of gray, And put on her puggish attire; She's up to fair London gone, Her true-love to require.

7 As she went along the road, The weather being hot and dry, There was she aware of her true-love, At length came riding by.

8 She stept to him, as red as any rose, And took him by the bridle-ring: 'I pray you, kind sir, give me one penny, To ease my weary limb.'

9 'I prithee, sweetheart, canst thou tell me Where that thou wast born?' 'At Islington, kind sir,' said she, 'Where I have had many a scorn.'

10 'I prithee, sweetheart, canst thou tell me Whether thou dost know The bailiff's daughter of Islington?' 'She's dead, sir, long ago.'

11 'Then will I sell my goodly steed, My saddle and my bow; I will into some far countrey, Where no man doth me know.'

12 'O stay, O stay, thou goodly youth! She's alive, she is not dead; Here she standeth by thy side, And is ready to be thy bride.'

13 'O farewel grief, and welcome joy, Ten thousand times and more! For now I have seen my own true-love, That I thought I should have seen no more.'

* * * * *

#a-f.#

True Love Requited, or, The Bayliff's Daughter of Islington.

The young man's friends the maid did scorn, Cause she was poor, and left forlorn; They sent the esquire to London fair, To be an apprentice seven year. And when he out on 's time was come, He met his love, a going home, And then, to end all further strife, He took the maid to be his wife.

To a North Countrey Tune, or, I have a good old mother at home.

#e#, #f# have of's, of his, in verse 5.

#a.#

8^2. bridal ring, and so all but #f#.

At the end: Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden Ball in Pye-Corner. Brooksby printed 1672-95: Chappell.

#b.#

1^2, a squire's.

Printed for J. Walter, at the Golden Bal[l] in Pye-Corner. J. Walter's time is 1690-1720: Chappell.

#c.#

1^2, a wanting.

6^2. her wanting.

Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden Ball in Py-Corner.

#d.#

3^4. a apprentice.

6^2. her wanting.

9^2. was.

12^1. thou well belovd.

Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden Ball in West Smithfield.

#e.#

3^1. a apprentice.

6^2. her wanting.

6^4. inquire.

8^2. a penny.

9^2. was.

11^1. I sell wanting.

12^1. thou well belovd.

Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golde[n] Ball, near the Bear Tavern, in Pye Corner.

#f.#

1^1. was was youth.

1^2. a squire's.

2^1. He was.

2^3. would she.

5^1. When all... of fair.

6^2. her ragged.

6^3. And she is.

6^4. After her... enquire.

7^1. And as.

8^1. a rose.

8^2. bridle.

8^4. For to.

9^2. Whereat.

10^2. Whether that.

11^1. I will.

11^3. And travel into.

13^3. I see.

13^4. should neer see more.

Printed and sold in Aldermary Churchyard, Bow Lane, London. "1700, or a little later."

106

THE FAMOUS FLOWER OF SERVING-MEN

#a.# Wood, E. 25, fol. 75, Bodleian Library. #b.# Pepys, III, 142, No 140, Magdalen College Library, Cambridge. #c.# A Collection of Old Ballads, I, 216, 1723.

This ballad was given in Percy's Reliques, III, 87, 1765, "from a written copy, containing some improvements (perhaps modern ones)." These improvements are execrable in style and in matter, so far as there is new matter, but not in so glaring contrast with the groundwork as literary emendations of traditional ballads. Ritson reprinted in A Select Collection of English Songs, II, 244, 1783, some broadside like that which was followed by #c#.[169]

'Sweet Willie' in Kinloch MSS, V, 407 and VII, 197 (the latter printed in Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 96), and also a fragment with the same title in the Harris MS., fol. 20 f, No 15, are derived from the broadside through recitation. A copy in Buchan's MSS, I, 150, is taken directly from print.

In other cases portions of the broadside appear to have entered into combination with traditional verses belonging to some other story, or possibly to some older form of this.

The Dean of Derry communicated to Percy in 1776 the following stanzas, which he wrote down from the recitation of his mother, Mrs Barnard, wife of the Bishop of Derry.[170]

1 My mother showd me a deadly spight; She sent three thieves at darksome night; They put my servants all to flight, They robd my bower, and they slew my knight.

2 They could not do me much more harm, But they slew my baby on my arm; They left me nothing to wrap it in But the bloody, bloody sheet that it lay in.

3 They left me nothing to make a grave But the bloody sword that slew my babe; All alone the grave I made, And all alone salt tears I shed.

4 All alone the bell I rung, And all alone sweet psalms I sung; I leant my head against a block, And there I cut my lovely locks.

5 I cut my locks, and chang'd my name From Fair Eleanore to Sweet William.

Scott inserted in his Border Minstrelsy, III, 83, 1803, seven stanzas under the title of 'The Lament of the Border Widow,' which show broader traces of the sheet-ballad (1-3), and also, as Aytoun has remarked, agreements with 'The Three Ravens' and with 'Fair Helen of Kirconnell' (5-7). 'The Lament of the Border Widow,' "obtained from recitation in the Forest of Ettrick," has been thought to relate to the execution of Cokburne, a border-freebooter, by James V. Those who are interested in such random inventions (as, under pardon, they must be called) will find particulars in Scott's introduction, and a repetition of the same in Maidment's Scotish Ballads and Songs, Historical and Traditionary, II, 170.[171]

1 My love he built me a bonny bower, And clad it a' wi lilye-flour; A brawer bower ye neer did see Than my true-love he built for me.

2 There came a man, by middle day, He spied his sport and went away, And brought the king that very night, Who brake my bower, and slew my knight.

3 He slew my knight, to me sae dear; He slew my knight, and poind his gear; My servants all for life did flee, And left me in extremitie.

4 I sewd his sheet, making my mane; I watched the corpse, myself alane; I watched his body, night and day; No living creature came that way.

5 I took his body on my back, And whiles I gaed, and whiles I sate; I diggd a grave, and laid him in, And happd him with the sod sae green.

6 But think na ye my heart was sair, When I laid the moul on his yellow hair? O think na ye my heart was wae, When I turnd about, away to gae?

7 Nae living man I'll love again, Since that my lovely knight is slain; Wi ae lock of his yellow hair I'll chain my heart for evermair.

Again, there are six couplets in Johnson's Museum, p. 90, No 89, called, from the burden, 'Oh ono chrio,' which have a little of The Border Widow, and incidentally of The Flower of Serving-Men, winding up with sentiments of transcendent elegance.

Oh was I not a weary wight, Maid, wife and widow in one night!

When in my soft and yielding arms, When most I thought him free from harms,

Even at the dead time of the night, They broke my bower, and slew my knight.

With ae lock of his jet-black hair I'll tye my heart for ever mair.

Nae sly-tongued youth, or flattering swain, Shall eer untye this knott again.

Thine still, dear youth, that heart shall be, Nor pant for aught save heaven and thee.

"Dr Blacklock informed Burns that this song... was composed on the horrid massacre at Glencoe": Stenhouse's note, IV, 92.

* * * * *

The English broadside, which may reasonably be believed to be formed upon a predecessor in the popular style, has been held to have a common origin with the Scandinavian ballad 'Maid and Stable Boy,' already spoken of under 'Child Waters' at p. 84f of this volume. The points of resemblance are that a maid cuts her hair, dons man's clothes, and seeks service with a king. In the end she is married to the king's son, or to a nobleman of his court. The differences, in other respects, are considerable.

Percy's ballad is translated by Bodmer, I, 160; by Merk, Ursinus, p. 79, and Bothe, p. 307; by Döring, p. 329.

1 You beautious ladies, great and small, I write unto you one and all, Whereby that you may understand What I have suffered in this land.

2 I was by birth a lady fair, My father's chief and onely heir, But when my good old father dy'd, Then was I made a young knight's bride.

3 And then my love built me a bower, Bedeckt with many a fragrant flower; A braver bower you never did see Then my true-love did build for me.

4 But there came thieves late in the night, They rob'd my bower, and slew my knight, And after that my knight was slain, I could no longer there remain.

5 My servants all from me did flye, In the midst of my extremity, And left me by my self alone, With a heart more cold then any stone.

6 Yet, though my heart was full of care, Heaven would not suffer me to despair; Wherefore in hast I chang'd my name From Fair Elise to Sweet William.

7 And therewithal I cut my hair, And drest my self in man's attire, My doublet, hose, and bever-hat, And a golden band about my neck.

8 With a silver rapier by my side, So like a gallant I did ride; The thing that I delighted on, Was for to be a serving-man.

9 Thus in my sumptuous man's array, I bravely rode along the way; And at the last it chanced so That I unto the king's court did go.

10 Then to the king I bowed full low, My love and duty for to show, And so much favour I did crave That I a serving-man's place might have.

11 'Stand up, brave youth, the king replyd, 'Thy service shall not be denyd; But tell me first what thou canst do; Thou shalt be fitted thereunto.

12 'Wilt thou be usher of my hall, To wait upon my nobles all? Or wilt thou be taster of my wine, To wait on me when I shall dine?

13 'Or wilt thou be my chamberlain, To make my bed both soft and fine? Or wilt thou be one of my guard? And I will give thee thy reward.'

14 Sweet William, with a smiling face, Said to the king, If't please your grace To show such favour unto me, Your chamberlain I fain would be.

15 The king then did the nobles call, To ask the counsel of them all, Who gave consent Sweet William he The king's own chamberlain should be.

16 Now mark what strange things came to pass; As the king one day a hunting was, With all his lords and noble train, Sweet William did at home remain.

17 Sweet William had no company then With him at home but an old man; And when he saw the coast was clear, He took a lute which he had there.

18 Upon the lute Sweet William plaid, And to the same he sung and said, With a pleasant and most noble voice, Which made the old man to rejoyce:

19 'My father was as brave a lord As ever Europe did afford; My mother was a lady bright, My husband was a valiant knight.

20 'And I my self a lady gay, Bedeckt with gorgeous rich array; The bravest lady in the land Had not more pleasures to command.

21 'I had my musick every day, Harmonious lessons for to play; I had my virgins fair and free, Continually to wait on me.

22 'But now, alas! my husband's dead, And all my friends are from me fled; My former joys are past and gone, For now I am a serving-man.'

23 At last the king from hunting came, And presently upon the same He called for the good old man, And thus to speak the king began.

24 'What news, what news, old man?' quod he; 'What news hast thou to tell to me?' 'Brave news,' the old man he did say; 'Sweet William is a lady gay.'

25 'If this be true thou tellest me I'le make thee a lord of high degree; But if thy words do prove a lye, Thou shalt be hanged up presently.'

26 But when the king the truth had found, His joys did more and more abound; According as the old man did say, Sweet William was a lady gay.

27 Therefore the king without delay Put on her glorious rich array, And upon her head a crown of gold, Which was most famous to behold.

28 And then, for fear of further strife, He took Sweet William for his wife; The like before was never seen, A serving-man to be a queen.

* * * * *

#a.#

Printed for J. Hose, next door but one to the Rose Inn, near Holbourn-bridge. John Hose, over against Staples-Inn, near Gray's Inn Lane, _printed, according to Chappell_, 1660-1675.

#b.#

Printed for W. Thackeray and T. Passinger. W. Thackeray's date, Chappell, is 1660-1689; T. Passinger's, 1670-1682.

#a#, #b# have for title and preface:

The Famous Flower of Serving-men, or, The Lady turnd Serving-man.

Her lover being slain, her father dead, Her bower robd, her servants fled, She drest her self in mans attire, She trim'd her locks, she cut her hair, And therupon she changde her name From Fair Elise to Sweet William.

To a dainty tune, or Flora Farewel, Summer-Time, or Love's Tide.

Before 19: Sweet William's Song.

After 22: The end of Sweet William's Song.

#a.#

After 8: The Second Part, to the same tune.

#b.#

8^4. It was to.

12^4. I do.

20^4. pleasure.

#c.#

2^4. I was.

8^4. It was to.

9^4. I to.

12^4. I do.

16^1. thing.

17^3. the house.

18^3. a sweet and noble voice.

20^4. pleasure.

23^3. this good.

25^1. tellst to.

[169] Heber had a copy printed by J. Andrews, who flourished 1655-60.

[170] Mrs Barnard makes this note: I remember to have seen a printed ballad, at least seventy years since, in which this was containd, as sung by a youth, overheard by a king he servd, and exalted to become his queen. I fancy these scenes were in Germany, by the names.--Percy regards the verses as a "fragment of an older copy than that printed of 'The Lady turnd Serving-Man.'"

[171] The Border Widow's Lament has received extraordinary favor. It has been translated by Schubart, p. 209; Talvj, Charakteristik, p. 570; Fiedler, Geschichte der schottischen Liederdichtung, p. 29; Freiligrath, Zwischen den Garben, II, 229, Stuttgart, 1877; Doenniges, p. 77; Knortz, L. u. R. Alt-Englands, p. 195, No 58. Cunningham furbished up the verses a little in The Songs of Scotland, II, 97. The copy in Chambers's Scottish Songs, I, 174, is Cunningham's, all but the sixth stanza, which is from Scott.--A great deal of nonsense passes in ballads, but I am impelled to ask just here how a lover would go about to clothe a bower with lily-flower. Is the ballad lily a climbing plant?

107

WILL STEWART AND JOHN

#A.# 'Will Stewart and John,' Percy Manuscript, p. 428; Hales and Furnivall, III, 216.

#B.# 'Tring Dilly,' Campbell's MSS, II, 30.

The fragment #B# is disordered as well as mutilated. #B# 1 corresponds to #A# 18, 13; 2 to 14; 3 to 19, 40; 4 to 41, 42; 5 to 43; 6 to 35, 36; 7 to 17. It is simply a confused recollection of some parts of the ballad.

The first stanza furnishes a sort of general lyrical introduction, and does not belong to the story, to which, as I conceive, the circumstance that Adlatts Park is wide and broad is of no more special pertinence than the other which follows, that grass grows green in our countrye. See I, 7, note.

Will Stewart, of Argyle Castle, languishes with love for the Earl of Mar's daughter, and lies in care-bed. His younger brother, John, a wiser man, offers to go a-wooing for his brother, and to forward his object takes service with the Earl of Mar as chamberlain to his daughter. One Sunday, as John is conveying the lady home from church, he makes known to her that he is a messenger. The lady at first, like Shakspere's Olivia, would rather he should speak for himself, but upon hearing what John has to say for his brother is ready to love Will heartily. She bids her lover come with a hundred men to a foot-ball match on Sunday after St Andrew's day. He must play sixteen games, and if he win the greater part she shall love him the more. This tidings makes Will Stewart leap from care-bed. He chooses a hundred men from eleven score and three, dresses them in green, himself in scarlet (about which the lady had been particular), meets his mistress at the rendezvous, gives her a kiss of courtesy, and wins twelve of the sixteen games. The Earl of Mar invites Will to his house, where the Stewart avows his love for his daughter; he knows not whether the lady loves him. "God forbid!" exclaims the earl. "I would rather thou wert hanged or burned. To thy chamber, lady, or I will beat thee before the Stewart's eye." Will, with John, who renounces Mar's service, returns to Argyle Castle, and Will leaps into care-bed again. A parliament is held at Edinburgh, to which both brothers are summoned. Mar discovers that Will is an earl's son, and even the king's cousin, but this discovery has no effect to change the mind of the peremptory nobleman. Will and John go back to Argyle Castle when the parliament is done, and Will once more leaps into care-bed. John, in great concern for his brother, offers to go a-wooing for him again. He disguises himself as a beggar, comes to Mar's house on a dole-day, makes his way to the lady and sticks by her till all the beggars are gone, and then tells her that he is no beggar, but a messenger. The lady, reproached for her cruelty, says the blame is not hers, and appoints Will to meet her within three days at Martinsdale with a hundred men, they and he dressed as before. Will leaps out of care-bed, chooses a hundred of the best out of eleven score men and three, rides to Martinsdale, and finds the true lady waiting for him. They send for priest and clerk and are married, and she goes home with Will. A twelvemonth after, John is despatched to bid the Earl of Mar to a christening. John frightens the earl with an intimation that his daughter will now be returned on his hands. This brings the wilful father round. The marriage ceremony is performed over again, and Will made Earl of Mar.

As Mr Hales has remarked, Bishop Percy's Folio Manuscript, III, 215, the allusions to manners and customs are highly interesting: as, to foot-ball matches, 27; to the kiss of courtesy, 35^3; to the beating of daughters, 42^4, 43^3; to the dole-day, 66^2; to the beggar's dress and equipment, 61, 78^3.

The superfluous that in 3^4, 16^3, 18^4, 38^1, 68^1, 89^2, is common in the ballads of the Percy manuscript.

Percy MS., p. 428; Hales and Furnivall, III, 216.

1 Adlatts parke is wyde and broad, And grasse growes greene in our countrye; Eche man can gett the loue of his ladye, But alas, I can gett none of mine!

2 Itt's by two men I sing my song, Their names is "W_i_ll_iam_ Stewart and Iohn; Will_iam_ he is the elder brother, But Iohn hee is the wiser man.

3 But Will_iam_ he is in care-bed layd, And for the loue of a ffaire ladye; If he haue not the loue of the Erle of Mar's daughter, In ffaith ffor loue _tha_t he must dye.

4 Then Iohn was sorry ffor his brother, To see him lye and languish soe: 'What doe you mourne for, brother?' he saies, 'I pray you tell to me yo_u_r woe.

5 'Doe [you] mourne for gold, brother?' he saies, 'Or doe you mourne ffor ffee? Or doe you mourne for a likesome ladye, You neuer saw her w_i_th yo_u_r eye?'

6 'I doe not mourne for gold,' he saies, 'Nor I doe not mourne for any ffee; But I doe mourne for a likesome ladye, I neere blinke on her w_i_th mine eye.'

7 'But when haruest is gotten, my deere brother-- All this is true _tha_t I tell thee-- Gentlemen, they loue hunting well, And giue wight-men their cloth and ffee.

8 'Then I'le goe a wooing ffor thy sake, In all the speed _tha_t I can gone, And for to see this likesome ladye, And hope to send thee good tydings home.'

9 Iohn Stewart is gone a wooing for his brother, Soe ffarr into ffaire Scottland, And left his brother in mikle ffeare, Vntill he heard the good tydand.

10 And when he came to the Erle of Mar's his house, Soe well he could his curtesye, And when he came before the erle, He kneeled low downe vpon his knee.

11 'O rise vp, rise vp, Iohn Steward, Rise vp, now, I doe bidd thee; How doth thy ffather, Iohn Stewart, And all the lords in his countrye?'

12 'And itt please you, my lo_rd_, my ffather is dead; My brother and I cannott agree; My brother and I am ffallen att discord, And I am come to craue a service of thee.'

13 'O welcome, welcome, Iohn Stewart, A welcome man thou art to me; I'le make thee chamberlaine to my daughter, And ffor to tend of _tha_t ladye soe ffree.

14 'And if thou wilt haue a better office, Aske, and thou shall haue itt of mee; And where I giue other men a penny of wage, Inffaith, Iohn, thou shalt haue three.'

15 And then bespake him Iohn Stewart, And these were the words said hee: There is no office in your court This day _tha_t better pleaseth mee.

16 The Ffryday is gone, the Sunday is come-- All this is true _tha_t I doe say-- And to the church that they be gone, Iohn Stewart and the lady gay.

17 And as they did come home againe-- I-wis itt was a meeten mile-- Iohn Stewart and the lady gay, They thought itt but a [little] while.

18 'I am a messenger, ladye,' he saies, 'I am a messenger to thee:' 'O speake ffor thy selfe, Iohn Stewart,' shee saies, 'A welcome man _tha_t thou shalt bee.'

19 'Nay, by my ffaith,' saies Iohn Stewart, 'W_hi_ch euer, alas, _tha_t may not bee! He hath a higher degree in honour, Allas, ladye, then euer I!

20 'He is a lo_rd_ now borne by birth, And an erle affter his ffather doth dye; His haire is yellow, his eyes beene gray; All this is true _tha_t I tell yee.

21 'He is ffine in the middle, and small in the wast, And pleasant in a woman's eye; And more nor this, he dyes for yo_u_r loue, Therefore, lady, show some pittye.'

22 'If this be soe,' then saies the lady, 'If this be true _tha_t thou tells mee, By my ffaith then, Iohn Stewart, I can loue him hartilye.

23 'Bidd him meete me att S^t Patr[i]cke's Church On Sunday after S^t Andrew's day; The fflower of Scottland will be there, And then begins our summer's play.

24 'And bidd him bring with him a hundred gunners, And rawnke ryders lett them bee, And lett them bee of the rankest ryders _Tha_t be to be ffound in _tha_t countrye.

25 'They best and worst, and all in like, Bidd him cloth them in one liuerye; And ffor his men, greene is the best, And greene now lett their liueryes bee.

26 'And clothe himselfe in scarlett redd, _Tha_t is soe seemlye ffor to see; Ffor scarlett is a ffaire coulour, And pleasant allwayes in a woman's eye.

27 'He must play sixteene games att ball, Against the men of this countrye, And if he winn the greater p_ar_t, Then I shall love him more tenderlye.'

28 What the lady said, Iohn Stewart writt, And to Argyle Castle sent it hee; And [when] Willie Steward saw the letter, Fforth of care-bed then lope hee.

29 Hee mustered together his merry men all, Hee mustered them soe louelilye; Hee thought hee had had scarson halfe a hundred, Then had hee eleuen score and three.

30 He chose fforth a hundred of the best _Tha_t were to be ffound in _tha_t countrye, He cladd them all in one coulour, And greene i-wis their liueryes bee.

31 He cladd himselfe in scarlett redd, _Tha_t is soe seemelye ffor to see; Ffor scarlett is a ffaire coulor, And seemlye in a woman's eye.

32 And then towards Patricke Church he went, With all his men in braue array, To gett a sight, if he might, And speake with his lady gay.

33 When they came to Patricke's churche, Shee kneeled downe by her mother trulye: 'O mother, if itt please you to glue me leaue, The Stewart's horsse ffaine wold I see.'

34 'I'le giue you leaue, my deere daughter, And I and my maide will goe with yee:' The lady had rather haue gone her selfe Then haue had her mother's companye.

35 When they came before Willie Steward, Soe well hee cold his curtesye: 'I wold kisse yo_u_r daughter, ladye,' he said, 'And if yo_u_r will _tha_t soe itt bee.'

36 The ladye's mother was content To doe a straunger _tha_t curtesye; And when Willie had gotten a kisse, I-wis shee might haue teemed him three.

37 Sixteen games were plaid _tha_t day there there-- This is the truth as I doe say-- Willie Stewart and his merry men, Thé carryed twelue of them away.

38 And when they games _tha_t they were done, And all they ffolkes away were gone But the Erle of Marr and Will_iam_ Stewart, The erle wold needs haue Will_iam_ home.

39 And when they came vnto the erle's howse, They walked to a garden greene; Ffor to confferr of their bussines, Into the garden they be gone.

40 'I loue your daughter,' saies Will_iam_ Stewart, 'But I cannott tell whether she loueth mee:' 'Marry, God defend,' saies the Erle of Mar, 'That euer soe _tha_t itt shold bee!

41 'I had rather a gallowes there was made, And hange thee ffor my daughter's sake; I had rather a ffyer were made att a stake, And burne thee ffor my daughter's sake!

42 'To chamber, to chamber, gay ladye,' he saies, 'In the deuill's name now I bidd thee! And thou gett thee not to the chamber soone, I'le beate thee before the Stewart's eye.'

43 And then bespake Will_iam_ Stewart, These were the words said hee: 'If thou beate thy daughter for my sake, Thou'st beate a hundred men and mee.'

44 Then bespake Iohn Stewart-- L_ord!_ an angry man was hee-- 'O churle, if thou wouldest not haue macht with my brother, Thou might haue answerd him curteouslye.'

45 'O hold thy peace, Iohn Stewart, And chamber thy words now, I bidd thee; If thou chamber not thy words soone, Thou'st loose a good service; soe shalt thou doe me.'

46 'Marry! hang them _tha_t cares,' saies Iohn Stewart, 'Either ffor thy service or ffor thee; Services can I haue enoughe, But brethren wee must euer bee.'

47 Will_iam_ Stewart and his brother Iohn, To Argyle Castle gon they bee; And when Willye came to Argyle Castle, Into care-bedd then lope hee.

48 A parlaiment att Edenborrow was made, The k_ing_ and his nobles all mett there; Thé sent ffor Will_iam_ Stewart and Iohn, To come amongst the other peeres.

49 Their clothing was of Scarlett redd, _Tha_t was soe seemelye ffor to see; Blacke hatts, white ffeathers plewed with gold, And sett all on their heads trulye.

50 Their stockings were of twisted silke, W_i_th garters ffringed about with gold; Their shoes were of the cordevine, And all was comelye to behold.

51 And when they came to Edenborrowe, They called ffor Iohn Stew_art_ and Willie: 'I answer in a lord's roome,' saies Will Stewart, 'But an erle I hope to bee.'

52 'Come downe, come downe,' saies the Lo_rd_ of Marr, 'I knew not what was thy degree:' 'O churle, if I might not haue macht w_i_th thy daughter, Itt had not beene long of my degree.

53 'My ffather, hee is the k_ing_ his brother, And then the k_ing_ is vnckle to me; O churle, if I might not haue macht with thy daughter, Itt had not beene long of my degree.'

54 'O hold yo_u_r peace,' then sayd the k_ing_, 'Cozen William, I doe bidd thee; Infaith, cozen Will_iam_, he loues you the worsse Because you are a-kinn to mee.

55 'I'le make thee an erle with a siluer wande, And adde more honors still to thee; Thy brother Iohn shall be a lord, Of the best att home in his countrye.

56 'Thy brother Kester shalbe a k_nigh_t, Lands and liuings I will him giue, And still hee shall liue in court w_i_th mee, And I'le maintaine him whilest he doth liue.'

57 And when the p_ar_laiment was done, And all the ffolkes away were gone, Willye Stewart and Iohn his brother, To Argyle Castle they be gone.

58 But when they came to Argyle Castle, That was soe ffarr in _tha_t countrye, He thought soe much then of his loue _Tha_t into care-bedd then lope hee.

59 Iohn Stewart did see his brother soe ill, Lo_rd_, in his heart _tha_t hee was woe! 'I will goe wooing for thy sake Againe yonder gay ladye to.

60 'I'le cloth my selfe in strange array, In a beggar's habbitt I will goe, _Tha_t when I come before the Erle of Marr My clothing strange he shall not knowe.'

61 Iohn hee gott on a clouted cloake, Soe meete and low then by his knee, W_i_th four garters vpon one legg, Two aboue, and towe below trulye.

62 'But if thou be a beggar, brother, Thou art a beggar _tha_t is vnknowne; Ffor thou art one of the stoutest beggars _Tha_t euer I saw since I was borne.

63 'Heere, geeue the lady this gay gold ringe, A token to her _tha_t well is knowne; And if shee but aduise itt well, Shee'le know some time itt was her owne.'

64 'Stay, by my ffaith, I goe not yett,' Iohn Stew_art_ he can replye; 'I'le haue my bottle ffull of beere, The best _tha_t is in thy butterye.

65 'I'le haue my sachell ffilld full of meate, I am sure, brother, [it] will doe noe harme; Ffor, before I come to the Erle of Marr's his house, My lipps, I am sure, they wilbe warme.'

66 And when he came to the Erle of Marr's house, By chance itt was of the dole-day; But Iohn cold ffind no place to stand, Vntill he came to the ladye gaye.

67 But many a beggar he threw downe, And made them all with weeping say, He is the devill, hee is no beggar, _Tha_t is come fforth of some strange countrye.

68 And now the dole _tha_t itt is delte, And all the beggars be gon away, Sauing Iohn Stewart, _tha_t seemed a beggar, And the ladye _tha_t was soe gay.

69 'Lady,' sais Iohn, 'I am no beggar, As by my clothes you may thinke _tha_t I bee; I am yo_u_r servant, Iohn Stewart, And I am sent a messenger to thee.'

70 'But if thou be Iohn Stewart, As I doe thinke _tha_t thou bee, Avayle thy capp, avayle thy hoode, And I will stand and speake to thee.

71 'How doth thy brother, Iohn Stewart, And all the lo_rd_s in his countrye?' 'O ffye vpon thee, wicked woman! My brother he doth the worsse ffor thee.'

72 W_i_th _tha_t the teares stood in her eyes; O lord, shee wept soe tenderlye! Sais, Ligg the blame vnto my ffather; I pray you, Iohn Stew_art_, lay itt not to mee.

73 Comend me to my owne true-loue, _Tha_t liues soe farr in the North countrye, And bidd him meete me att Martingsdale, Ffullye w[i]thin these dayes three.

74 Hang them, sais the lady gay, _Tha_t letts their ffather witting bee! I'le proue a ladye ffull of loue, And be there by the sunn be a quarter highe.

75 And bidd him bring with him a hundred gunners, And ranke riders lett them bee; Lett them be of the rankest ryders _Tha_t be to be ffound in _tha_t countrye.

76 The best and worse, and all in like, Bidd him clothe them in one liuerye; And for his men, greene is the best, And greene now lett their lyueryes bee.

77 And cloth himselfe in scarlett redd, _Tha_t is soe seemelye for to see; For scarlett is a ffaire coulor, And pleasant in a woman's eye.

78 What they lady sayd, Iohn Stewart writt, To Argyle Castle sent itt hee; His bagg and his dish and showing horne, Unto three beggars he gaue them all three.

79 And when Willie Stewart saw the letter, Fforth of care-bed then lope hee; He thought himselfe as lustye and sound As any man in _tha_t countrye.

80 He mustered together his merrymen all, He mustered them soe louinglye; He thought he had had scarce halfe a hundred, Then had hee eleuen score and three.

81 He chose fforth a hundred of the best _Tha_t were to be found in _tha_t companye, And p_re_sentlye they tooke their horsse, And to Martingsdale posted hee.

82 And when he came to Martingsdale, He found his loue staying there trulye, For shee was a lady true of loue, And was there by [the] sunn was a qwarter highe.

83 Shee kisst Will_iam_ Stewart and his brother Iohn, Soe did shee p_ar_t of his merry men: 'If the churle, thy ffather, hee were here, He shold not haue thee backe againe.'

84 They sent ffor preist, they sent ffor clarke, And they were marryed there w_i_th speede; Will_iam_ tooke the lady home with him, And they liued together long time indeed.

85 And in twelue monthe soe they wrought, The lady shee was great w_i_th childe; The sent Iohn Stewart to the Erle off Marre, To come and christen the barne soe milde.

86 'And if this be soe,' sayes the Erle of Marre, 'Iohn Stewart, as thou tells mee, I hope in God you haue marryed my daughter, And put her bodye to honestye.'

87 'Nay, by my ffaith,' then saies Iohn Stewart, 'Ffor euer alas _tha_t shall not bee; Ffor now wee haue put her body to shame, Thou 'st haue her againe hame to thee.'

88 'I had rather make thee Erle of Marre, And marry my daughter vnto thee; For by my ffaith,' sais the Erle of Marr, 'Her marryage is marrd in our countrye.'

89 'If this be soe,' then sais Iohn Stewart, 'A marryage soone _tha_t thou shalt see; Ffor my brother William, my ffather's heyre, Shall marry thy daughter before thine eye.'

90 They sent ffor preist, the sent ffor clarke, And marryed there they were with speed; And William Stewart is Erle of Marr, And his ffather-in-law dwells w_i_th him indeed.

Campbell MSS, II, 30.

1 'Speak for yoursell, John Stewart,' he did say, 'Speak for yoursell, John Stewart,' he did say, 'Speak for yoursell, John Stewart,' he did say, 'And soon an answer I will gie to thee; The highest service I can give thee Is to wait on my daughter Ailly.

2 ' . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

If ever I gie a man a penny wage, I'm sure, John Stewart, ye shall hae three.'

3 'I speak not for mysell,' John Stewart he did say, 'I speak for a lord of a higher degree; The message is from my brother William, Your loving daughter's husband to be.'

4 ' . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I'll rather beat fair Ailly in my leather bang, As lang as she can either stand or gang.'

5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 'Ye hadna beat her before my face Or ye'll beat three hundred men and me.'

6 When William came to Mulbery Hall, He kissd the ladies one and all; But when he cam to fair Ailly, She thought he might hae gaen her twa or three.

7 Between the kitchen and the garden It is calld a measured mile; That lady and that lord fell into discourse, And they thought they rode it in a short while.

Chorus: Tring dilly, tring dilly, tring ding dido, Tring dilly, tring dilly, dolo dee.

* * * * *

#A.#

2^1. by 2.

14^4. haue 3.

24^1. a 100.

27^4. love is written in the MS. by a later hand between then and I. Furnivall.

29^3. a 100^d.

29^4. 11 score.

30^1. a 100.

36^4. him 3.

37^1. 16 games.

37^4. 12 of.

38^3. Marrs.

38^4. & the Erle.

40^3. March.

43^4. a 100^d: men and nee.

44^4. might has two strokes for the i _in the MS. Furnivall_.

48^4. amongst has four strokes for the m in the MS. Furnivall.

51^3. in L, MS. Furnivall.

52^1. Mars.

60^3. March.

61^3. 4 garters.

61^4. 2 aboue.

73^4. dayes 3.

75^1. a 100^d. Gunners has m in place of nn. Furnivall.

75^3. Two or three letters appear one over the other for the s in ryders. Furnivall.

78^4. vnto 3, all 3.

80^3. a 100 d.

80^4. 11 score.

81^1. a 100d.

84^3. n instead of m in home. Furnivall.

85^1. in 12.

85^4. chrsten.

And throughout for &.

108

CHRISTOPHER WHITE

'Christopher White,' Percy MS., p. 513; Hales and Furnivall, III, 494.

A rich merchant, burgess of Edinburgh, overhears a lady making moan for Christopher White, who is banished from England. He makes her great offers to abandon Christopher and lay her love on him. She resists these offers at first, and tells him that if she is false to Christopher she cannot be true to him. But silver and gold makes her heart turn and makes her leave good company. After she has been married two or three months tidings come to Edinburgh that all the merchants must to sea; it is for service against Spain, 17^4. The lady takes advantage of her husband's absence to write to Christopher; she sends him a hundred pound and bids him come to Edinburgh. Christopher first goes to London and obtains pardon of the king of England, then makes for Edinburgh. The lady tells him that she is a merchant's wife, and he shall have enough of the merchant's gold. Christopher, who seems not till then to have known of her marriage, begins an indignant answer, but the lady cuts him short with an offer to go to England with him. They pack up silver and gold and make off to Little England, whatever that may be (perhaps a Percy MS. phrase: see 'Hugh Spencer,' st. 34). The merchant comes back, and is told that his wife has fled with Christopher. He does not care for the loss of silver and gold, but mourns for the lady, who, he frankly owns, had given him due warning of what he might look for.

* * * * *

1 As I walked fforth one morninge, By one place _tha_t pleased mee, Wherin I heard a wandering wight, Sais, Christopher White is good companye.

2 I drew me neere, and very neere, Till I was as neere as neere cold bee; Loth I was her councell to discreene, Because I wanted companye.

3 'Say on, say on, thou well faire mayd, Why makest thou moane soe heauilye?' Sais, All is ffor one wandering wight, Is banished fforth of his owne countrye.

4 'I am the burgesse of Edenburrow, Soe am I more of townes three; I haue money and gold great store, Come, sweet wench, and ligg thy loue on mee.'

5 The merchant pulled forth a bagg of gold _Wh_ich had hundreds two or three; Sais, Euery day throughout the weeke I'le comt as much downe on thy knee.

6 'O merchant, take thy gold againe, A good liuing 't will purchase thee; If I be ffalse to Chr_istopher_ White, Merchant, I cannott be true to thee.'

7 Sais, I haue halls, soe haue I bowers, Sais, I haue shipps sayling on the sea; I ame the burgess of Edenburrowe; Come, sweete wench, ligge thy loue on mee.

8 Come on, come, thou well faire mayde, Of our matters lett vs goe throughe, For to-morrowe I 'le marry thee, And thy dwelling shalbe in Edenburrough.

9 The lady shee tooke this gold in her hand, The teares thé ffell ffast ffrom her eye; Sais, Siluer and gold makes my hart to turne, And makes me leaue good companye.

10 They had not beene marryed Not ouer monthes two or three, But tydings came to Edenburrowe That all the merchants must to the sea.

11 Then as this lady sate in a deske, Shee made a loue-letter ffull round; She mad a l_ett_re to Chr_istopher_ White, And in itt shee put a hundred pound.

12 She lin'd the letter w_i_th gold soe red, And mony good store in itt was found; Shee sent itt to Chr_istopher_ White, _Tha_t was soe ffar in the Scotts ground.

13 Shee bade him then ffrankely spend, And looke _tha_t hee shold merry bee, And bid him come to Edenburrowe, Now all the merchants be to the sea.

14 But Chr_istopher_ came to leeue London, And there he kneeled lowly downe, And there hee begd his p_ar_don then, Of our noble k_ing tha_t ware the crowne.

15 But when he came to his true-loue's house, W_hi_ch was made both of lime and stone, Shee tooke him by the lily-white hand, Sais, True-loue, you are welcome home!

16 Welcome, my honey, welcome, my ioy, Welcome, my true-loue; home to mee! Ffor thou art hee _tha_t will lengthen my dayes, And I know thou art good companye.

17 Chr_istopher_, I am a merchant's wiffe; Christ_opher_, the more shall be yo_u_r gaine; Siluer and gold you shall haue enough, Of the merchant's gold _tha_t is in Spaine.

18 'But if you be a merchant's wiffe, Something tó much you are to blame; I will thee reade a loue-lett_er_ Shall sture thy stumpes, thou noble dame.

19 'Althoug I be a marchant's wiffe, ... shall ... mine ... and g ... Into England I'le goe w_i_th the.'

20 They packet vp both siluer and plate, Siluer and gold soe great plentye, And they be gon into Litle England, And the marchant must them neu_er_ see.

21 And when the merchants they came home, Their wiues to eche other can say, Heere hath beene good Chr_istopher_ White, And he hath tane thy wiffe away.

22 They haue packett vp spoone and plate, Siluer and gold great plenty, And they be gon into Litle England, And them againe thow must neu_er_ see.

23 'I care nott ffor my siluer and gold, Nor for my plate soe great plentye, But I mourne for _tha_t like-some ladye _Tha_t Chr_istopher_ White hath tane ffrom mee.

24 'But one thing I must needs confesse, This lady shee did say to me, If shee were ffalse to Chr_istopher_ White, Shee cold neu_er_ be true to mee.

25 'All young men a warning take, A warning, looke, you take by mee; Looke _tha_t you loue yo_u_r old loues best, For infaith they are best companye.'

* * * * *

1^1. mornige.

2^3. discreeme.

3^2. thom.

4^2. townes 3.

5^2. 2 or.

9^2. eyes.

10^2. 2 or 3.

11^4. 100^{li}_{:}.

15^4. yo^r are.

16^3. lenghen.

18^3. lert_er_.

18^4. stue thy.

19^{2, 3}. The MS. is pared away at the bottom of p. 513, and the writing has perished and part of the paper is broken away at the top of p. 514. Furnivall.

20^1. siluer & plate: see 22^1.

And for &, throughout.

109

TOM POTTS

#A.# 'Thomas of Potte,' Percy MS., p. 409; Hales and Furnivall, III, 135.

#B.# 'The Lovers Quarrel, or, Cupid's Triumph,' etc. #a.# London, printed for F. Coles, and others, 1677, #b.# Pepys Merriments, I, 189; Ritson, Pieces of Ancient Popular Poetry, p. 115, 1791.

#C.# 'The Two Constant Lovers in Scotland,' etc., broadside of 1657; Ritson's Ancient Songs, 1790, p. 248.

* * * * *

All the copies here printed are of the seventeenth century, and the ballad need not be put much beyond that date. Modernized editions, differing much, were issued in the century following, perhaps earlier, some of which have a Second Part, narrating the happy married life of Tom Potts, Lord Arundel, and Fair Rosamund. See Halliwell's Descriptive Notices of Popular English Histories, p. 17, No 15, Percy Society, vol. xxiii, and the notes to #B#.

Unequal matches are common enough in ballads and romances, and very naturally, since they are an easy expedient for exciting interest, at least with those who belong to the humbler party. We have other ballad-examples of disparagement on the female side in 'The Bonny Foot-Boy' and 'Ritchie Storie.' No offence seems to be given when King Cophetua weds the Beggar-Maid, but when the Lady of the Strachy marries the Yeoman of the Wardrobe good taste is shocked. Such events would be celebrated only by fellows of the yeoman or of the foot-boy, and surely in the present case the minstrel was not much above the estate of the serving-man. Lord Jockey's reckless liberality throughout, and Lord Phenix's in the end, is a mark of the serving-man's ideal nobleman.

Tom Potts stanches his blood with a charm in #A# 75^4, #B# 82^4, just as the sons of Autolycus do that of Ulysses in Odyssey XIX, 457 f. His rejecting of his master's thirty fine horses in favor of the old white cut-tail is a ludicrous repetition of Hugh Spencer's preference of the hack he had brought over sea, and Walter of Aquitaine's predilection for his worn-out charger. See, further on, 'Hugh Spencer's Feats in France.'

There is a Lord Phenix in a sufficiently absurd ballad in Motherwell's MS., 'Jamie o Lee,' p. 654; an English nobleman who steals the Queen of Scotland's jewels and lays the blame on Jamie o Lee, a page of fifteen years, being himself, for rhyme's sake, thretty three. The page worsts his accuser in a duel and makes him confess.

Mr Macmath notes for me that Swift, in The Tale of a Tub (written about 1696), having associated Dryden's Hind and Panther with Tom Thumb, Whittington and his Cat, and other "prime productions of our society," adduces Tommy Potts as "another piece, supposed by the same hand, by way of supplement to the former:" Scott's edition, XI, 72.

The message to Strawberry Castle occurs also in No 65, #D#, #E#, #F#, and No 87 #C#.

* * * * *

#B# is translated by Bothe, p. 315.

Percy MS., p. 409; Hales and Furnivall, III, 135.

1 All you lords of Scottland ffaire, And ladyes alsoe, bright of blee, There is a ladye amongst them all, Of her report you shall heare of me.

2 Of her bewtye shee is soe bright, And of her colour soe bright of blee; Shee is daughter to the Lord Arrndell, His heyre apparrant ffor to bee.

3 'I'le see _tha_t bryde,' Lo_rd_ Phenix sayes, '_Tha_t is a ladye of hye degree, And iff I like her countenance well, The heyre of all my land shee'st bee.'

4 To _tha_t ladye ffayre Lord Phenix came, And to _tha_t like-some dame said hee, Now God thee saue, my ladye ffaire, The heyre of all my land tho'st bee.

5 'Leaue of yo_u_r suite,' the ladye sayd; 'You are a lord of honor ffree; You may gett ladyes enowe att home, And I haue a loue in mine owne countrye.

6 'I haue a louer true of mine owne, A servinge-man of a small degree; Thomas a Pott, itt is his name, He is the ffirst loue _tha_t euer I had, and the last _tha_t hee shalbee.'

7 'Giue Thomas a Pott then be his name, I wott I ken him soe readilye; I can spend forty pounds by weeke, And hee cannott spend pounds three.'

8 'God giue you good of yo_u_r gold,' said the ladye, 'And alsoe, _si_r, of yo_u_r ffee! Hee was the ffirst loue _tha_t euer I had, And the last, s_i_r, shall hee bee.'

9 With _tha_t Lord Phenix was sore amoued; Vnto her ffather then went hee; Hee told her ffather how itt was proued, How _tha_t his daughter's mind was sett.

10 'Thou art my daughter,' the Erle of Arrndell said, 'The heyre of all my land to bee; Thou 'st be bryde to the Lord Phenix, Daughter, giue thou'le be heyre to mee.'

11 For lacke of her loue this ladye must lose, Her foolish wooing lay all aside; The day is appoynted, and ffreinds are agreede; Shee is fforcte to be the Lo_rd_ Phenix bryde.

12 W_i_th _tha_t the lady began to muse-- A greeued woman, God wott, was shee-- How shee might Lo_rd_ Phenix beguile, And scape vnmarryed ffrom him _tha_t day.

13 Shee called to her her litle ffoote-page, To Iacke her boy, soe tenderlye; Sayes, Come thou hither, thou litle ffoote-page, For indeed I dare trust none but thee.

14 To Strawberry Castle, boy, thou must goe, To Thomas Pott there as hee can bee, And giue him here this letter ffaire, And on Guilford Greene bidd him meete me.

15 Looke thou marke his contenance well, And his colour tell to mee; And hye thee ffast, and come againe, And forty shillings I will giue thee.

16 For if he blush in his fface, Then in his hart hee'se sorry bee; Then lett my ffather say what hee will, For false to Potts I'le neuer bee.

17 And giue hee smile then with his mouth, Then in his heart hee'le merry be; Then may hee gett him a loue where-euer he can, For small of his companye my p_ar_t shalbe.

18 Then one while _tha_t the boy hee went, Another while, God wott, rann hee, And when hee came to Strawberry Castle, There Thomas Potts hee see.

19 Then he gaue him this letter ffaire, And when he began then for to reade, They boy had told him by word of mouth His loue must be the Lord Phenix bryde.

20 With _tha_t, Thomas a Pott began to blushe, The teares trickeled in his eye: 'Indeed this letter I cannot reede, Nor neuer a word to see or spye.

21 'I pray thee, boy, to me thou'le be trew, And heer 's fiue marke I will giue thee; And all these words thou must peruse, And tell thy lady this ffrom mee.

22 'Tell her by ffaith and troth shee is mine owne, By some p_ar_t of p_ro_mise, and soe itt's be found; Lo_rd_ Phenix shall neu_er_ marry her, by night nor day, W_i_thout he can winn her w_i_th his hand.

23 'On Gilford Greene I will her meete, And bidd _tha_t ladye ffor mee pray; For there I'le loose my liffe soe sweete, Or else the wedding I will stay.'

24 Then backe againe the boy he went, As ffast againe as he cold hye; The ladye mett him fiue mile on the way: 'Why hast thou stayd soe long?' saies shee.

25 'Boy,' said the ladye, 'thou art but younge; To please my mind thou 'le mocke and scorne; I will not beleeue thee on word of mouth, Vnlesse on this booke thou wilt be sworne.'

26 'Marry, by this booke,' the boy can say, 'As Christ himselfe be true to mee, Tho_mas_ Pott cold not his letter reade For teares trickling in his eye.'

27 'If this be true,' the ladye sayd, 'Thou bonny boy, thou tells to mee, Forty shillings I did thee p_ro_mise, But heere's ten pounds I'le giue itt thee.

28 'All my maids,' the lady sayd, '_Tha_t this day doe waite on mee, Wee will ffall downe vpon our knees, For Tho_mas_ Pott now pray will wee.

29 'If his ffortune be now ffor to winn-- Wee will pray to Christ in Trinytye-- I'le make him the fflower of all his kinn, Ffor they Lo_rd_ of Arrundale he shalbe.'

30 Now lett vs leaue talking of this ladye faire, In her prayer good where shee can bee; And I'le tell you hou Tho_mas_ Pott For ayd to his lo_rd_ and m_aster_ came hee.

31 And when hee came Lo_rd_ Iockye before, He kneeled him low downe on his knee; Saies, Thou art welcome, Tho_mas_ Pott, Thou art allwayes full of thy curtesye.

32 Has thou slaine any of thy ffellowes, Or hast thou wrought me some villanye? 'Sir, none of my ffellowes I haue slaine, Nor I haue wrought you noe villanye.

33 'But I haue a loue in Scottland ffaire, I doubt I must lose her through pouertye; If you will not beleeue me by word of mouth, Behold the letter shee writt vnto mee.'

34 When Lo_rd_ Iockye looked the letter vpon, The tender words in itt cold bee, 'Tho_mas_ Pott, take thou no care, Thou 'st neuer loose her throughe pouertye.

35 'Thou shalt have forty pounds a weeke, In gold and siluer thou shalt rowe, And Harbye towne I will thee allowe As longe as thou dost meane to wooe.

36 'Thou shalt haue fortye of thy ffellowes ffaire, And forty horsse to goe with thee, And forty speares of the best I haue, And I my-selfe in thy companye.'

37 'I thanke you, m_aster_,' sayd Tho_mas_ Pott, 'Neither man nor boy shall goe with mee; I wold not ffor a thousand pounds Take one man in my companye.'

38 'Why then, God be with thee, Tho_mas_ Pott! Thou art well knowen and proued for a man; Looke thou shedd no guiltlesse bloode, Nor neuer confound no gentlman.

39 'But looke thou take with him some truce, Apoint a place of lybertye; Lett him p_ro_vide as well as hee cann, And as well p_ro_vided thou shalt bee.'

40 And when Tho_mas_ Pott came to Gilford Greene, And walked there a litle beside, Then was hee ware of the Lo_rd_ Phenix, And with him Ladye Rozamund his bryde.

41 Away by the bryde rode Tho_mas_ of Pott, But noe word to her _tha_t he did say; But when he came Lo_rd_ Phenix before, He gaue him the right time of the day.

42 'O thou art welcome, Tho_mas_ a Potts, Thou serving-man, welcome to mee! How ffares they lo_rd_ and m_aster_ att home, And all the ladyes in thy cuntrye?'

43 'S_i_r, my lo_rd_ and my m_aster_ is in verry good health, I wott I ken itt soe readylye; I pray you, will you ryde to one outsyde, A word or towe to talke w_i_th mee.

44 'You are a nobleman,' sayd Tho_mas_ a Potts, 'Yee are a borne lo_rd_ in Scottland ffree; You may gett ladyes enowe att home; You shall neuer take my loue ffrom mee.'

45 'Away, away, thou Tho_mas_ a Potts! Thou seruing-man, stand thou a-side! I wott there's not a serving-man this day, I know, can hinder mee of my bryde.'

46 'If I be but a seruing-man,' sayd Tho_mas_, 'And you are a lord of honor ffree, A speare or two I'le w_i_th you runn, Before I'le loose her thus cowardlye.'

47 'On Gilford Greene,' Lo_rd_ Ph_enix_ saies, 'I'le thee meete; Neither man nor boy shall come hither w_i_th mee;' 'And as I am a man,' said Tho_mas_ a Pott, 'I'le haue as ffew in my companye.'

48 W_i_th that the wedding-day was stayd, The bryde went vnmarryed home againe; Then to her maydens ffast shee loughe, And in her hart shee was ffull ffaine.

49 'But all my mayds,' they ladye sayd, 'That this day doe waite on mee, Wee will ffall downe againe vpon our knees, For Tho_mas_ a Potts now pray will wee.

50 'If his ffortune be ffor to winn-- Wee'le pray to Christ in Trynitye-- I'le make him the fflower of all his kinn, For the Lo_rd_ of Arrundale he shalbe.'

51 Now let vs leaue talking of this lady fayre, In her prayers good where shee can bee; I'le tell you the troth how Tho_mas_ a Potts For aide to his lord againe came hee.

52 And when he came to Strawberry Castle, To try ffor his ladye he had but one weeke; Alacke, ffor sorrow hee cannott fforbeare, For four dayes then he ffell sicke.

53 W_i_th _tha_t his lo_rd_ and m_aster_ to him came, Sayes, I pray thee, Tho_mas_, tell mee w_i_thout all doubt, Whether hast thou gotten the bonny ladye, Or thou man gange the ladye w_i_thoute.

54 'Marry, m_aster_, yett _tha_t matter is vntryde; W_i_thin two dayes tryed itt must bee; He is a lo_rd_, and I am but a seruing-man, I doubt I must loose her through pouertye.' 'Why, Tho_mas_ a Pott, take thou no care; Thou'st neuer loose her through pouertye.

55 'Thou shalt haue halfe my land a yeere, And _tha_t will raise thee many a pound; Before thou shalt loose thy bonny ladye, Thou shalt drop angells w_i_th him to the ground.

56 'And thou shalt haue forty of thy ffellowes ffaire, And forty horsses to goe w_i_th thee, And forty speres of the best I haue, And I my-selfe in thy companye.'

57 'I thanke you, m_aster_,' sayd Tho_mas_ a Potts, 'But of one thinge, s_i_r, I wold be ffaine; If I shold loose my bonny ladye, How shall I increase yo_u_r goods againe?'

58 'Why, if thou winn thy lady ffaire, Thou maye well fforth for to pay mee; If thou loose thy lady, thou hast losse enoughe; Not one penny I will aske thee.'

59 'M_aster_, you haue thirty horsses in one hold, You keepe them ranke and royallye; There's an old horsse,--for him you doe not care-- This day wold sett my lady ffree.

60 '_Tha_t is a white, w_i_th a cutt tayle, Ffull sixteen yeeres of age is hee; Giffe you wold lend me _tha_t old horsse, Then I shold gett her easilye.'

61 'Thou takes a ffoolish p_ar_t,' the Lo_rd_ Iockye sayd 'And a ffoolish p_ar_t thou takes on thee; Thou shalt haue a better then euer he was, _Tha_t forty pounds cost more nor hee.'

62 'O m_aster_, those horsses beene wild and wicked, And litle they can skill of the old traine; Giffe I be out of my saddle cast, They beene soe wild they'le neuer be tane againe.

63 'Lett me haue age, sober and wise; Itt is a p_ar_t of wisdome, you know itt plaine; If I be out of my sadle cast, Hee'le either stand still or turne againe.'

64 'Thou shalt haue _tha_t horsse w_i_th all my hart, And my cote-plate of siluer ffree, And a hundred men att thy backe, For to fight if neede shalbee.'

65 'I thanke you, m_aster_,' said Tho_mas_ a Potts, 'Neither man nor boy shall goe w_i_th mee; As you are a lord off honor borne, Let none of my ffellowes know this of mee.

66 'Ffor if they wott of my goinge, I wott behind me they will not bee; W_i_thout you keepe them vnder a locke, Vppon _tha_t greene I shall them see.'

67 And when Tho_mas_ came to Gilford Greene, And walked there some houres three, Then was he ware of the Lo_rd_ Phenix, And four men in his companye.

68 'You haue broken yo_u_r vow,' sayd Tho_mas_ a Pott, 'Yo_u_r vowe _tha_t you made vnto mee; You said you wold come yo_u_r selfe alone, And you haue brought more then two or three.'

69 'These are my waiting-men,' Lo_rd_ Phenix sayd, '_Tha_t euery day doe waite on mee; Giffe any of these shold att vs stirr, My speare shold runn throwe his bodye.'

70 'I'le runn noe race,' said Tho_mas_ Potts, 'Till _tha_t this othe heere made may bee: If the one of vs be slaine, The other fforgiuen _tha_t hee may bee.'

71 'I'le make a vow,' Lo_rd_ Phenix sayes, 'My men shall beare wittnesse w_i_th thee, Giffe thou slay mee att this time, Neuer the worsse beloued in Scottland thou shalt bee.'

72 Then they turned their horsses round about, To run the race more egarlye; Lo_rd_ Phenix he was stiffe and stout, He has runn Tho_mas_ quite thorrow the thye.

73 And beere Tho_mas_ out of his saddle ffaire; Vpon the ground there did hee lye; He saies, For my liffe I doe not care, But ffor the loue of my ladye.

74 But shall I lose my ladye ffaire? I thought shee shold haue beene my wiffe; I pray thee, Lo_rd_ Phenix, ryde not away, For w_i_th thee I will loose my liffe.

75 Tho Tho_mas_ a Potts was a seruing-man, He was alsoe a phisityan good; He clapt his hand vpon his wound, W_i_th some kind of words he stauncht the blood.

76 Then into his sadle againe hee leepe; The blood in his body began to warme; He mist Lo_rd_ Phenix bodye there, But he run him quite throw the brawne of the arme.

77 And he bore him quite out of his saddle ffaire; Vpon the ground there did he lye; He said, I pray thee, Lo_rd_ Phenix, rise and ffight, Or else yeeld this ladye sweete to mee.

78 'To ffight w_i_th thee,' q_uo_th Phenix, 'I cannott stand, Nor ffor to ffight, I cannott, sure; Thou hast run me through the brawne of the arme; Noe longer of thy spere I cannott endure.

79 'Thou'st haue _tha_t ladye w_i_th all my hart, Sith itt was like neuer better to proue. Nor neuer a noble-man this day, _Tha_t will seeke to take a pore man's loue.'

80 'Why then, be of good cheere,' saies Tho_mas_ Pott, 'Indeed your bucher I'le neuer bee, For I'le come and stanche yo_u_r bloode, Giff any thankes you'le giue to mee.'

81 As he was stanching the Phenix blood, These words Tho_mas_ a Pott cann to him proue: 'I'le neuer take a ladye of you thus, But here I'le giue you another choice.

82 'Heere is a lane of two miles longe; Att either end sett wee will bee; The ladye shall sitt vs betweene, And soe will wee sett this ladye ffree.'

83 'If thou'le doe soe,' Lo_rd_ Phenix sayes, 'Tho_mas_ a Pott, as thou dost tell mee, Whether I gett her or goe without her, Heere's forty pounds I'le giue itt thee.'

84 And when the ladye there can stand, A woman's mind that day to proue, 'Now, by my ffaith,' said this ladye ffaire, 'This day Tho_mas_ a Pott shall haue his owne loue.'

85 Toward Tho_mas_ a Pott the lady shee went, To leape behind him hastilye; 'Nay, abyde a while,' sayd Lo_rd_ Phenix, 'Ffor better yett proued thou shalt bee.

86 'Thou shalt stay heere with all thy maids-- In number with thee thou hast but three-- Tho_mas_ a Pott and I'le goe beyond yonder wall, There the one of vs shall dye.'

87 And when they came beyond the wall, The one wold not the other nye; Lo_rd_ Phenix he had giuen his word W_i_th Tho_mas_ a Pott neuer to ffight.

88 'Giue me a choice,' Lo_rd_ Phenix sayes, 'Tho_mas_ a Pott, I doe pray thee; Lett mee goe to yonder ladye ffaire, To see whether shee be true to thee.'

89 And when hee came _tha_t ladye too, Vnto that likesome dame sayd hee, Now God thee saue, thou ladye ffaire, The heyre of all my land thou'st bee.

90 Ffor this Tho_mas_ a Potts I haue slaine; He hath more then deadlye wounds two or three; Thou art mine owne ladye, he sayd, And marryed together wee will bee.

91 The ladye said, If Tho_mas_ a Potts this day thou haue slaine, Thou hast slaine a better man than eu_er_ was thee; And I'le sell all the state of my lande But thou'st be hanged on a gallow-tree.

92 With _tha_t they lady shee ffell in a soone; A greeued woman, I wott, was shee; Lo_rd_ Phenix hee was readye there, Tooke her in his armes most hastilye.

93 'O Lo_rd_, sweete, and stand on thy ffeete, This day Tho_mas_ a Pott aliue can bee; I'le send ffor thy father, the Lo_rd_ of Arrundale, And marryed together I will you see: Giffe hee will not maintaine you well, Both gold and land you shall haue from me.'

94 'I'le see _tha_t wedding,' my Lo_rd_ of Arrundale said, 'Of my daughter's loue _tha_t is soe ffaire; And sith itt will no better be, Of all my land Tho_mas_ a Pott shall be my heyre.'

95 'Now all my maids,' the ladye said, 'And ladyes of England, faire and ffree, Looke you neuer change yo_ur_ old loue for no new, Nor neuer change for no pouertye.

96 'Ffor I had a louer true of mine owne, A seruing-man of a small degree; Ffrom Tho_mas_ a Pott I'le turne his name, And the Lo_rd_ of Arrundale hee shall bee.'

#a.# London, printed for F. Coles, and others, 1677, Bodleian Library, Wood, 259. #b.# Pepys Penny Merriments, I, 189, Magdalen College Library, Cambridge.

1 Of all the lords in Scotland fair, And ladies that been so bright of blee, There is a noble lady among them all, And report of her you shall hear by me.

2 For of her beauty she is bright, And of her colour very fair; She's daughter to Lord Arundel, Approvd his parand and his heir.

3 'I'le see this bride,' Lord Phenix said, 'That lady of so bright a blee, And if I like her countenance well, The heir of all my lands she'st be.'

4 But when he came the lady before, Before this comely maid came he, 'O God thee save, thou lady sweet, My heir and parand thou shalt be.'

5 'Leave off your suit,' the lady said, 'As you are a lord of high degree; You may have ladies enough at home, And I have a lord in mine own country.

6 'For I have a lover true of mine own, A serving-man of low degree, One Tommy Pots it is his name, My first love and last that ever shall be.'

7 'If that Tom Pots is his name, I do ken him right verily; I am able to spend fourty pounds a week, Where he is not able to spend pounds three.'

8 'God give you good of your gold,' she said, 'And ever God give you good of your fee; Tom Pots was the first love that ever I had, And I do mean him the last to be.'

9 With that Lord Phenix soon was movd; Towards the lady did he threat; He told her father, and so it was provd, How his daughter's mind was set.

10 'O daughter dear, thou art my own, The heir of all my lands to be; Thou shalt be bride to the Lord Phenix, If that thou mean to be heir to me.'

11 'O father dear, I am your own, And at your command I needs must be; But bind my body to whom you please, My heart, Tom Pots, shall go with thee.'

12 Alas! the lady her fondness must leave, And all her foolish wooing lay aside; The time is come, her friends have appointed, That she must be Lord Phenix bride.

13 With that the lady began to weep; She knew not well then what to say, How she might Lord Phenix deny, And escape from marriage quite away.

14 See calld unto her little foot-page, Saying, I can trust none but thee; Go carry Tom Pots this letter fair, And bid him on Guilford Green meet me.

15 For I must marry against my mind, Or in faith well proved it shall be; And tell to him I am loving and kind, And wishes him this wedding to see.

16 But see that thou note his countenance well, And his colour, and shew it to me; And go thy way and hie thee again, And forty shillings I will give thee.

17 For if he smile now with his lips, His stomach will give him to laugh at the heart; Then may I seek another true-love, For of Tom Pots small is my part.

18 But if he blush now in his face, Then in his heart he will sorry be; Then to his vow he hath some grace, And false to him I will never be.

19 Away this lacky-boy he ran, And a full speed forsooth went he, Till he came to Strawberry Castle, And there Tom Pots came he to see.

20 He gave him the letter in his hand; Before that he began to read, He told him plainly by word of mouth, His love was forc'd to be Lord Phenix bride.

21 When he lookd on the letter fair, The salt tears blemished his eye; Says, I cannot read this letter fair, Nor never a word to see or spy.

22 My little boy, be to me true, Here is five marks I will give thee; And all these words I must peruse, And tell my lady this from me.

23 By faith and troth she is my own, By some part of promise, so it's to be found; Lord Phoenix shall not have her night nor day, Except he can win her with his own hand.

24 On Guilford Green I will her meet; Say that I wish her for me to pray; For there I'le lose my life so sweet, Or else the wedding I mean to stay.

25 Away this lackey-boy he ran, Even as fast as he could hie; The lady she met him two miles of the way; Says, Why hast thou staid so long, my boy?

26 My little boy, thou art but young, It gives me at heart thou'l mock and scorn; I'le not believe thee by word of mouth, Unless on this book thou wilt be sworn.

27 'Now by this book,' the boy did say, 'And Jesus Christ be as true to me, Tom Pots could not read the letter fair, Nor never a word to spy or see.

28 'He says, by faith and troth you are his own, By some part of promise, so it's to be found; L_ord_ Phenix shall not have you night nor day, Except he win you with his own hand.

29 'On Guilford Green he will you meet; He wishes you for him to pray; For there he'l lose his life so sweet, Or else the wedding he means to stay.'

30 'If this be true, my little boy, These tidings which thou tellest to me, Forty shillings I did thee promise, Here is ten pounds I will give thee.

31 'My maidens all,' the lady said, 'That ever wish me well to prove, Now let us all kneel down and pray That Tommy Pots may win his love.

32 'If it be his fortune the better to win, As I pray to Christ in Trinity, I'le make him the flower of all his kin, For the young Lord Arundel he shall be.'

33 Let's leave talking of this lady fair, In prayers full good where she may be; Now let us talk of Tommy Pots; To his lord and master for aid went he.

34 But when he came Lord Jockey before, He kneeled lowly on his knee: 'What news, what news, thou Tommy Pots, Thou art so full of courtesie?

35 'What tydings, what tydings, thou Tommy Pots, Thou art so full of courtesie? Thou hast slain some of thy fellows fair, Or wrought to me some villany.'

36 'I have slain none of my fellows fair, Nor wrought to you no villany, But I have a love in Scotland fair, And I fear I shall lose her with poverty.

37 'If you'l not believe me by word of mouth, But read this letter, and you shall see, Here by all these suspitious words That she her own self hath sent to me.'

38 But when he had read the letter fair, Of all the suspitious words in it might be, 'O Tommy Pots, take thou no care, Thou'st never lose her with poverty.

39 'For thou'st have forty pounds a week, In gold and silver thou shalt row, And Harvy Town I will give thee As long as thou intendst to wooe.

40 'Thou'st have forty of thy fellows fair, And forty horses to go with thee, Forty of the best spears I have, And I my self in thy company.'

41 'I thank you, master,' said Tommy Pots, 'That proffer is too good for me; But, if Jesus Christ stand on my side, My own hands shall set her free.

42 'God be with you, master,' said Tommy Pots, 'Now Jesus Christ you save and see; If ever I come alive again, Staid the wedding it shall be.'

43 'O God be your speed, thou Tommy Pots, Thou art well proved for a man; See never a drop of blood thou spil, Nor yonder gentleman confound.

44 'See that some truce with him you take, And appoint a place of liberty; Let him provide him as well as he can, As well provided thou shalt be.'

45 But when he came to Guilford Green, And there had walkt a little aside, There was he ware of Lord Phenix come, And Lady Rosamond his bride.

46 Away by the bride then Tommy Pots went, But never a word to her did say, Till he the Lord Phenix came before; He gave him the right time of the day.

47 'O welcome, welcome, thou Tommy Pots, Thou serving-man of low degree; How doth thy lord and master at home, And all the ladies in that countrey?'

48 'My lord and master is in good health, I trust since that I did him see; Will you walk with me to an out-side, Two or three words to talk with me?

49 'You are a noble man,' said Tom, 'And born a lord in Scotland free; You may have ladies enough at home, And never take my love from me.'

50 'Away, away, thou Tommy Pots; Thou serving-man, stand thou aside; It is not a serving-man this day That can hinder me of my bride.'

51 'If I be a serving-man,' said Tom, 'And you a lord of high degree, A spear or two with you I'le run, Before I'le lose her cowardly.

52 'Appoint a place, I will thee meet, Appoint a place of liberty; For there I'le lose my life so sweet, Or else my lady I'le set free.'

53 'On Guilford Green I will thee meet; No man nor boy shall come with me:' 'As I am a man,' said Tommy Pots, 'I'le have as few in my company.'

54 And thus staid the marriage was, The bride unmarried went home again; Then to her maids fast did she laugh, And in her heart she was full fain.

55 'My maidens all,' the lady said, 'That ever wait on me this day, Now let us all kneel down, And for Tommy Pots let us all pray.

56 'If it be his fortune the better to win, As I trust to God in Trinity, I'le make him the flower of all his kin, For the young Lord Arundel he shall be.'

57 When Tom Pots came home again, To try for his love he had but a week; For sorrow, God wot, he need not care, For four days that he fel sick.

58 With that his master to him came, Says, Pray thee, Tom Pots, tell me if tho doubt Whether thou hast gotten thy gay lady, Or thou must go thy love without.

59 'O master, yet it is unknown; Within these two days well try'd it must be; He is a lord, I am but a serving-man, I fear I shall lose her with poverty.'

60 'I prethee, Tom Pots, get thee on thy feet; My former promises kept shall be; As I am a lord in Scotland fair, Thou'st never lose her with poverty.

61 'For thou'st have the half of my lands a year, And that will raise thee many a pound; Before thou shalt out-braved be, Thou shalt drop angels with him on the ground.'

62 'I thank you, master,' said Tommy Pots, 'Yet there is one thing of you I would fain; If that I lose my lady sweet, How I'st restore your goods again?'

63 'If that thou win the lady sweet, Thou mayst well forth, thou shalt pay me; If thou loosest thy lady, thou losest enough; Thou shalt not pay me one penny.'

64 'You have thirty horses in one close, You keep them all both frank and free; Amongst them all there's an old white horse This day would set my lady free.

65 'That is an old horse with a cut tail, Full sixteen years of age is he; If thou wilt lend me that old horse, Then could I win her easily.'

66 'That's a foolish opinion,' his master said, 'And a foolish opinion thou tak'st to thee; Thou'st have a better then ever he was, Though forty pounds more it cost me.'

67 'O your choice horses are wild and tough, And little they can skill of their train; If I be out of my saddle cast, They are so wild they'l ner be tain.'

68 'Thou'st have that horse,' his master said, 'If that one thing thou wilt tell me; Why that horse is better than any other, I pray thee, Tom Pots, shew thou to me.'

69 'That horse is old, of stomach bold, And well can he skill of his train; If I be out of my saddle cast, He'l either stand still or turn again.'

70 'Thou'st have the horse with all my heart, And my plate-coat of silver free; An hundred men to stand at thy back, To fight if he thy master be.'

71 'I thank you master,' said Tommy Pots, 'That proffer is too good for me; I would not, for ten thousand pounds, Have man or boy in my company.

72 'God be with you, master,' said Tommy Pots; 'Now, as you are a man of law, One thing let me crave at your hand; Let never a one of my fellows know.

73 'For if that my fellows they did wot, Or ken of my extremity, Except you keep them under a lock, Behind me I am sure they would not be.'

74 But when he came to Guilford Green, He waited hours two or three; There he was ware of Lord Phenix come, And four men in his company.

75 'You have broken your vow,' said Tommy Pots, 'The vow which you did make to me; You said you would bring neither man nor boy, And now has brought more than two or three.'

76 'These are my men,' Lord Phenix said, 'Which every day do wait on me; [If] any of these dare proffer to strike, I'le run my spear through his body.'

77 'I'le run no race now,' said Tommy Pots, 'Except now this may be; If either of us be slain this day, The other shall forgiven be.'

78 'I'le make that vow with all my heart, My men shall bear witness with me; And if thou slay me here this day, In Scotland worse belovd thou never shalt be.'

79 They turnd their horses thrice about, To run the race so eagerly; Lord Phenix he was fierce and stout, And ran Tom Pots through the thick o th' thigh.

80 He bord him out of the saddle fair, Down to the ground so sorrowfully: 'For the loss of my life I do not care, But for the loss of my fair lady.

81 'Now for the loss of my lady sweet, Which once I thought to have been my wife, I pray thee, Lord Phenix, ride not away, For with thee I would end my life.'

82 Tom Pots was but a serving-man, But yet he was a doctor good; He bound his handkerchief on his wound, And with some kind of words he stancht his blood.

83 He leapt into his saddle again, The blood in his body began to warm; He mist Lord Phenix body fair, And ran him through the brawn of the arm.

84 He bord him out of his saddle fair, Down to the ground most sorrowfully; Says, Prethee, Lord Phenix, rise up and fight, Or yield my lady unto me.

85 'Now for to fight I cannot tell, And for to fight I am not sure; Thou hast run me throw the brawn o th' arm, That with a spear I may not endure.

86 'Thou'st have the lady with all my heart; It was never likely better to prove With me, or any nobleman else, That would hinder a poor man of his love.'

87 'Seeing you say so much,' said Tommy Pots, 'I will not seem your butcher to be; But I will come and stanch your blood, If any thing you will give me.'

88 As he did stanch Lord Phenix blood, Lord, in his heart he did rejoyce! 'I'le not take the lady from you thus, But of her you'st have another choice.

89 'Here is a lane of two miles long; At either end we set will be; The lady shall stand us among, Her own choice shall set her free.'

90 'If thou'l do so,' Lord Phenix said, 'To lose her by her own choice it's honesty; Chuse whether I get her or go her without, Forty pounds I will give thee.'

91 But when they in that lane was set, The wit of a woman for to prove, 'By the faith of my body,' the lady said, 'Then Tom Pots must needs have his love.'

92 Towards Tom Pots the lady did hie, To get on behind him hastily; 'Nay stay, nay stay,' Lord Phenix said, 'Better proved it shall be.

93 'Stay you with your maidens here here-- In number fair they are but three-- Tom Pots and I will go behind yonder wall, That one of us two be proved to dye.'

94 But when they came behind the wall, The one came not the other nigh; For the Lord Phenix had made a vow, That with Tom Pots he would never fight.

95 'O give me this choice,' Lord Phenix said, 'To prove whether true or false she be, And I will go to the lady fair, And tell her Tom Pots slain is he.'

96 When he came from behind the wall, With his face all bloody as it might be, 'O lady sweet, thou art my own, For Tom Pots slain have I.

97 'Now have I slain him, Tommy Pots, And given him death's wounds two or three; O lady sweet, thou art my own; Of all loves, wilt thou live with me?'

98 'If thou hast slain him, Tommy Pots, And given him death's wounds two or three, I'le sell the state of my father's lands But hanged shall Lord Phenix be.'

99 With that the lady fell in a swound, For a grieved woman, God wot, was she; Lord Phenix he was ready then To take her up so hastily.

100 'O lady sweet, stand thou on thy feet, Tom Pots alive this day may be; I'le send for thy father, Lord Arundel, And he and I the wedding will see.

101 'I'le send for thy father, Lord Arundel, And he and I the wedding will see; If he will not maintain you well, Both lands and livings you'st have of me.'

102 'I'le see this wedding,' Lord Arundel said, 'Of my daughter's luck that is so fair; Seeing the matter will be no better, Of all my lands Tom Pots shall be the heir.'

103 With that the lady began for to smile, For a glad woman, God wot, was she; 'Now all my maids,' the lady said, 'Example you may take by me.

104 'But all the ladies of Scotland fair, And lasses of England that well would prove, Neither marry for gold nor goods, Nor marry for nothing but only love.

105 'For I had a lover true of my own, A serving-man of low degree; Now from Tom Pots I'le change his name, For the young Lord Arundel he shall be.'

A white letter sheet in five columns, "published May 29, 1657," The King's Pamphlets, British Museum, 669, f. 20, 55.

1 In Scotland there are ladies fair, There's ladies of honor and high degree, Hey down, down a down derry But one excels above all the rest, And the Earl of Arundel's daughter is she. With hey down, derry down, Lang derry down derry

2 Both knights and lords of great account Comes thither a wooing for this ladie's sake: It fell on a day that E_arl_ Arundell said, Daughter, which of these lords will you take?

3 Or which of them now likes thee best? Speak truth to me, but do not lie; Speak truth to me, and do not jest, Who must heir my livings when as I die?

4 Lord Fenix is a lord of high degree, And hath both lands and livings free; I tell thee, daughter, thou shalt him have, If thou wilt take any counsell at me.

5 With that the young lady fell down of her knee, And trickling tears ran down her eye: 'As you are my father, and loves me dear, My heart is set where it must be.

6 'On a serving-man which is so poor, For all he hath is but pounds three; He was the first lover that ere I had, And the last I mean him for to be.'

7 With that her father was sore offended, And fast he rode at that same tide, Untill he to the Lord Fenix came, And said, Take thee my daughter for thy bride.

8 The yong ladie cald up Jack, her foot-boy: 'I dare trust no man alive but thee; Thou must go my earand to Strawbery Castle, To the place where Tomy o'th Potts doth lye.

9 'And carry this letter, in parchment fair, That I have sealed with mine own hand; And when Tomey looks this letter upon, Be sure his countenance thou understand.

10 'And if he either laugh or smile, He is not sorry at his heart; I must seek a new love where I will, For small of Tomey must be my part.

11 'But if he wax red in the face, And tricling tears fall from his eyes, Then let my father say what he will, For true to Tomey I'le be always.

12 'And thou must tell him by word of mouth, If this letter cannot be read at that tyde, That this day sennight, and no longer hence, I must be Lord William Fenix bride.'

13 The boy took leave of his lady gay, And to Strawbery Castle he did him fast hie; A serving-man did guide him the way To the place where Tomey o'th Pots did lie.

14 'O Christ thee save, good Tomey o'th Pots, And Christ thee save as I thee see; Come read this letter, Tomey o'th Potts, As thy true-love hath sent to thee.'

15 Then Tomey he waxed red in the face, And trickling tears ran down his eyes; But never a letter could he read, If he should be hanged on th' gallow-tree.

16 'Shee bid me tell you by word of mouth, If this letter could not be read at this tide, That this day sennight, and no longer hence, She must be Lord William Fenix bride.'

17 'Now in faith,' said Tomey, 'she is mine own, As all hereafter shall understand; Lord Fenix shall not marry her, by night or day, Unless he win her by his own hand.

18 'For on Gilforth Green I will her meet, And if she love me, bid her for me pray; And there I will lose my life so sweet, Or else her wedding I will stay.'

19 He cald this boy unto accounts; Think whether he loved this lady gay! He gave him forty shilling for his message, And all he had was but pounds three.

20 The boy took his leave of Tomey o'th Potts, Fearing that he had staid too late; The young lady did wait of his comming, And met him five miles out of the gate.

21 'O boney boy, thou art not of age, Therefore thou canst both mock and scorn; I will not beleeve what my love hath said, Unlesse thou on this book be sworn.'

22 'Now, in faith, gay lady, I will not lye,' And kist the book full soon did he: 'One letter he could not read at that time, If he should have been hangd at gallo-tree.

23 'He said in faith you are his own, As all hereafter shall understand; Lord Fenix shall not marry you by night or day, Unlesse he winn you with his own hand.

24 'For on Gilforth Green he will you meet, And if you love him, you must for him pray; And there he will lose his life so sweet, Or else your wedding he will stay.'

25 Let us leave talking of the boy, That with his gay lady is turned home; Now let us go talk of Tomey o'th Potts, And how to his master he is gone.

26 When Tomey came his master before, He kneeled down upon his knee: 'What tidings hast thou brought, my man, As that thou makes such courtesie?'

27 'O Christ you save, dear master,' he said, 'And Christ you save as I you see; For God's love, master, come read me this letter, Which my true love hath sent to me.'

28 His master took this letter in hand, And looked ore it with his eye; 'In faith, I am fain, my man,' he said, 'As thou hast a lady so true to thee.'

29 'I have a lady true to me, And false to her I'le never be; But ere this day sennight, and no longer hence, I must lose my love through povertie.

30 'Lord Fenix he will her have, Because he hath more wealth then I:' 'Now hold thy tongue, my man,' he said, 'For before that day many a one shall die.

31 'O Tomey,' said he, 'I love thee well, And something for thee I will doo; For Strawbery Castle shall be thine own So long as thou dost mean to woo.

32 'One half of my lands I'le give thee a year, The which will raise thee many a pound; Before that thou lose thy bonny sweet-hart, Thou shalt drop angels with him to the ground.

33 'I have thirty steeds in my stable strong. Which any of them is good indeed, And a bunch of spears hangs them among, And a nag to carry thee swift with speed.

34 'My sute of armour thou shalt put on-- So well it becomes thy fair body-- And when thou comst on Gilford Green Thou'll look more like a lord then he.

35 'My men shall all rise and with thee go, And I my self with thee will ride; And many a bloody wound will we make Before that thou shalt lose thy bride.'

36 'Now Christ reward you, dear master,' he said, 'For the good will you bear to me; But I trust to God, in a little space, With my own hands to set her free.

37 'I'le none of your horses, master,' he said, 'For they cannot well skill of their trade; None but your gray nag that hath a cut tail, For hee'll either stand or turn again.

38 'One spear, master, and no more, No more with me that I will take, And if that spear it will not serve my turn, I'le suffer death for my true-love's sake.'

39 Early in the morning, when day did spring, On Gilforth Green betime was he; There did he espie Lord Fenix comming, And with him a royall company.

40 Gold chains about their necks threescore, Full well might seem fine lords to ride; The young lady followed far behind, Sore against her will that she was a bride.

41 There Tomey passed this lady by, But never a word to her did say; Then straight to Lord Fenix he is gone, And gives him the right time of the day.

42 'O Christ you save, Lord Fenix,' he said, 'And Christ you save as I you see;' 'Thou art welcome, Tomey o'th Potts,' he said, 'A serving-man into our company.

43 'O how doth thy master, Tomy o'th Potts? Tell me the truth and do not lye;' 'My master is well,' then Tomey replide, 'I thank my lord, and I thank not thee.

44 'O Christ you save Lord Fenix,' he said, 'And Christ you save as I you see; You may have choyce of ladies enough, And not take my true-love from me.'

45 With that Lord Fenix was sore offended, And fast away he rode at that tide; 'God forbid,' Lord Fenix he said, 'A serving-man should hold me from my bride!'

46 But afterward Tomey did him meet, As one that came not thither to flye, And said, Lord Fenix, take thou my love, For I will not lose her cowardly.

47 'O meet me here tomorrow,' he said; 'As thou art a man, come but thy sell; And if that I come [with] any more, The divell fetch my soul to hell.'

48 And so this wedding-day was staid, The lady and lords they turned home; The lady made merry her maidens among, And said, Tomey I wish thou may win thy own.

49 Early in the morning, when day did spring, On Gilforth Green betime was he; He waited long for Lord Fenix comming, But Lord William Fenix he could not see.

50 He waited long and very long, Untill the sun waxed very high; There was he ware of Lord Fenix coming, And with him other men three.

51 'Thou art a false thief, Lord Fenix,' he said, 'Because thou breakst thy promise with me; Thou promisedst me to come by thy self, And thou hast brought other men three.

52 'But in regard I call thee thief, Because thou hast broken promise with me, I vow, and you were as many more, Forsaken sure you should not be.'

53 'These are my men,' Lord Fenix said, 'That every day do wait on me; If any of them do strike a stroke, In faith then hanged he shall be.'

54 They fetcht a race and rode about, And then they met full eagerly; Lord Fenix away by Tomey's body glowd, And he ran him quite thorow the thigh.

55 Out of his saddle bore him he did, And laid his body on the ground; His spear he ran thorow Tomey's thigh, In which he made a grievous wound.

56 But Tomey quickly start up again; For as he was a physitian good, He laid his hand upon the wound, And quickly he did stanch the blood.

57 Full lightly he leaped to his saddle again, Forth of it long he did not stay; For he weighed more of the ladie's love Then of any life he had that day.

58 They fetched a race and rode about, The blood in Tomey's body began to warm; He away by Lord Fenix body glowde, And he ran him quite through the arm.

59 Out of his saddle bore him he hath, Of from his steed that mounted so high; 'Now rise and fight, Lord Fenix,' he said, 'Or else yeeld the lady unto me.'

60 'I'll yeeld the lady unto thee; My arm no more my spear will guide; It was never better likely to prove, To hold a poor serving-man from his bride.'

61 'But if thou wilt thus deal then with me, Lest of this matter should rise any voice, That I have gotten the victory, Then thou shalt have another choice.

62 'Yonder is a lane of two miles long; At either end then stand will we; Wee 'l set the lady in the midst, And whether she come to, take her, for me.'

63 'If thou wilt thus deal,' said Fenix then, 'Thou 'll save my credit and honor high; And whether I win her, or go without her, I'le be willing to give ten pounds to thee.'

64 There was a lane of two miles long; The lady was set in the middle that tide; She laught and made merry her maids among, And said, Tomey o'th Pots, now I 'le be thy bride.

65 Now all you ladies of high degree, And maides that married yet would be, Marry no man for goods or lands, Unlesse you love him faithfully.

66 For I had a love of my own, she said, At Strawberrie Castle there lived he; I'le change his name from Tomey o'th Pots, And the yong Earl of Arundell now he shall be.

* * * * *

#A.#

6^1. of nine.

6^3. at the end of the stanza.

7^3. spend 40^{li}_{:}.

7^4. pounds 3.

11^3. There is a mark like an undotted i, in the MS., before the y of appoynted. Furnivall.

15^4. 40.

20^3. camot.

21^2, 24^3. 5.

21^3. must pursue.

27^3. 40^{s}_{.}.

27^4. 10^{li}_{.}.

29^1. wim.

33^2, 33^3. Stanza 35 is written between these lines, "but marked by a bracket, and by Percy, to go in its proper place." Furnivall.

35^1. 40^{li}_{.}.

36^1. 40^{tye}_{.}.

36^{2, 3}. 40.

36^4. Only half the n of companye _in the MS. Furnivall._

37^3. 1000^{li}_{:}.

46^3. or 2.

51, 52 are bracketed as beginning the 2^{d}_{:} parte.

51^4. cane.

52^4. for 4.

54^2. 2.

56^{1, 2, 3}. 40.

57^3. bomy.

59^1. 30.

60^2. 16.

61^3. the euer.

61^4. 40^{li}_{.}.

64^3. 100^{d}_{.}.

67^2. 3.

67^4. 4.

68^4. 2 or 3.

72^2. rum.

75^1. Then.

81^1. stamching.

81^2. him praie, perhaps.

82^1. 2.

83^4. 40^{li}_{:}.

86^2. 3.

90^2. 2 or 3.

93^5. you maintaine.

96^1. owme.

And for & throughout.

#B.#

The Lovers Quarrel, or, Cupids Triumph, being the Pleasant History of Fair Rosamond of Scotland: being daughter to the Lord Arundel, whose love was obtained by the valour of Tommy Pots, who conquered the Lord Phenix, and wounded him, and after obtained her to be his wife.

#a.#

London, printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright and J. Clarke. 1677.

16^3. high thee.

30^4. then pounds.

48^2. since is torn.

68^2. me tell.

75^4. or 3.

And for & throughout.

After 32: The Second Part.

After 56: The Third Part.

#b.#

7^1. it is.

13^4. quite wanting.

15^1. my will.

15^3. to wanting.

16^1. see you.

16^2. hye thee.

17^2. give me.

18^2. merry be.

18^4. I will.

19^1. run.

24^2. So that.

25^3. three miles.

26^2. thoult.

27^3. this letter.

27^4. see or spy.

29^2. to stay.

33^1. leaving.

38^4, 60^4, 78^4. ne'r.

42^2. Christ Jesus.

44^1. him you make.

46^2. A serving-man of low degree.

48^4. to speak.

53^1. will you.

55^4. Tom.

58^2. prithee.

58^3. lady gay.

59^3. am wanting.

60^1. stand thou on.

61^1. the wanting.

63^2. mayst forthwith.

64^3. there is.

66^2. takest.

66^3. than.

66^4. pound.

69^1. of courage.

69^2. he can.

70^1. that horse.

73^1. that wanting.

73^3. kept.

74^4. in their.

75^4. then.

77^2. now that this.

81^4. would I.

82^4. kind of wanting.

85^4. I cannot.

87^1. thou say'st.

89^4. And her.

90^1. thoult.

90^2. loose: 't is.

91^4. needs must.

92^2. get behind him so.

93^3. I'le.

93^4. the one.

94^4. never try: right?

96^4. Ritson prints slain is he.

98^3. estate.

101^4. thou'st have.

103^1. for wanting.

104^1. ladies in.

104^2. ladies of.

A copy in "Northern Penny Histories," Bodleian Library, Douce, p. p. 172, London, William Dicey, which may date about 1725, is somewhat modernized and has not a few petty variations. Only the following readings seem worth the noting.

9^2. fast he did.

15^1. my will.

19^3. Salisbury Castle.

44^1. you make.

60^1. stand on.

85^1. How for.

94^4. never try.

96^4. have I.

This copy has an additional stanza:

106. The lady she did loyal prove, As many do in Scotland know, And how they spent their days in love The Second Book shall plainly show.

#C.#

The two constant Lovers in Scotland, or, A pattern of true Love, expressed in this ensuing Dialogue between an Earls daughter in Scotland and a poor Serving-man; she refusing to marry the Lord Fenix, which her father would force her to take, but clave to her first Love, Tomey o'th Pots.

And for &.

29^3. senninght.

47^2. self.

After 38: The Second Part.

110

THE KNIGHT AND SHEPHERD'S DAUGHTER

#A.# 'The Beautifull Shepherdesse of Arcadia.' #a.# Roxburghe Ballads, III, 160, 161. #b.# Roxburghe Ballads, II, 30, 31. 27 stanzas.

#B.# 'Shepherd's Dochter,' Kinloch MSS, V, 255. 33 stanzas.

#C.# 'Earl Richard,' Kinloch MSS, VII, 69. 30 stanzas.

#D.# Kinloch MSS, VII, 68, fragments. 16 stanzas.

#E.# 'Earl Richard, the Queen's Brother.' #a.# Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 81. #b.# Motherwell's MS., p. 459; Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 377. 60 stanzas.

#F.# 'Earl Lithgow.' #a.# Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 91. 63 stanzas. #b.# Christie's Traditional Ballad Airs, I, 184. 22 stanzas.

#G.# 'Jo Janet,' Gibb MS., No 1. 34 stanzas.

#H.# 'The Shepherd's Daughter,' Kinloch MSS, V, 20; also, Kinloch MSS, VII, 61, and Kinloch's Scottish Ballads, p. 25. 19 stanzas.

#I.# Communicated by Dr Thomas Davidson, from his own recollection. 11 stanzas.

#J.# 'Earl Richard,' Dr J. Robertson's Journal of Excursions, No 7. 17(?) stanzas.

#K.# 'The Knight and the Shepherd's Daughter,' Motherwell's MS., p. 226. 18 stanzas.

#L.# Motherwell's Note-Book, p. 1. 3 stanzas.

The only English version of this ballad is a broadside, found in the Roxburghe Collection.[172] It was given from a black-letter copy, with changes and the omission of stanza 4, in the Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, 1765, III, 75. Hearne, in his preface to Guilielmi Neubrigensis Historia, I, lxx (cited by Percy), remarks that some impressions were adorned with the picture of a queen, meant, as he maintains, to be Elizabeth, and quotes the first stanza.[173] From this Percy infers that the ballad was popular in Elizabeth's time, a supposition probable enough in itself, and confirmed by the fifteenth stanza occurring (as Percy notes) in Fletcher's comedy of 'The Pilgrim,' 1621.[174]

Motherwell, Minstrelsy, Introduction, p. lxvi, says that the ballad was current in Scotland in many shapes (1827).

The copy in Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 13, is #C#, with the stanzas given here as #D# incorporated into it from another version.

Kinloch is fully justified in claiming for the Scottish ballad a decided superiority. The humorous artifices which the lady practises to maintain the character of a beggar's brat are, as he says, kept up with great spirit and fancy, and, as far as we know, are entirely of Scottish invention. It might perhaps be objected that in the course of tradition they have been exaggerated in later copies to a point threatening weariness.

The passage in which the knight rides off and is followed so closely by the maid, through river and all, #A# 6-8, #B# 5-10, etc., is found also in 'Child Waters,' #A# 11-16, #B# 4-11, etc., and suits both ballads perhaps equally well.

Parts of this ballad inevitably suggest a parallel with the tales belonging to the class of the 'Marriage of Sir Gawain.'[175] In the Wife of Bath's Tale, a lusty bachelor who has been out hawking meets a maid walking, and forces her to yield to his will. The offence is brought before King Arthur,[176] and the knight, as he is also called, is condemned to death. The alternative of marrying is so distasteful to him that he tries every means to avoid it. 'Take all my good,' he says to the woman, 'but let my body go.' But all for naught. Dame Ragnell makes a point of being wedded in high style; so does our shepherd's daughter in #E# 37, 38, #F# 38, 39. In Gower, the knight takes the woman on his horse and rides away sighing; and they also have a cauld and eerie ride in #E# 39. The bride becomes, if possible, more and more repulsive in the Gawain tales, and endeavors to make herself so in the ballad. As in the tales, so in the ballad, the bridegroom will not turn about and make much of her, #C# 29, #E# 56, #G# 30. The ugly woman turns out to be a king's daughter in Gower's tale, a most desirable wife in all the others; and the shepherdess is a king's daughter in #B#, #E#, #F#, #K#, and at least an excellent match in other copies. The knight is nephew to a king or emperor in three of the tales, and the queen's brother or the king's in nearly all the ballads.[177] Even the Billy Blin in #F# 60-63, #G# 31, 32, cf. #D# 15,16, looks like a remnant of the fairy machinery of the Gawain tales.

The tragic ballad of 'Ebbe Galt,' Danske Viser, II, 47, No 63, has several features in common with 'The Knight and Shepherd's Daughter.' Ebbe Galt has been drinking heavily with the king's men. Riding home through a wood, he meets in an evil hour a farmer's pretty wife, and offers her presents to show him the way to the town. She undertakes to do so, though much afraid. They come to the farmer's house. Ebbe Galt begins to ban and beat, and in the end ravishes the woman, using extreme cruelty. She says, Now you have had your will of me, with little good to either of us, for God's sake tell me your name.[178] He declares himself to be Ebbe Galt. The farmer comes home and is told all. He comforts his wife and goes to make his plaint to the king. If any man in the court has done this, says the king, it shall cost him his life. When he learns that the man is his nephew, he would rather than half Denmark not have pronounced so harsh a doom. Ebbe Galt is summoned to answer for himself. He is not much better sober than drunk, though the ballad lays the fault on ale. He tells the farmer to produce his wife; she will make no complaint. The woman gives her evidence. She had treated Ebbe Galt with all hospitality as her husband's guest. He had broken in the doors of the room where she was with her children, beaten five maids and killed three swains. Ebbe's father offers his horse and a thousand mark as ransom. The king says that he himself, if it lay in him, would have redeemed the youth with three thousand; Ebbe Galt shall die. While they are taking him off, Ebbe is flippant: he would not mind losing his life had the woman been prettier.

There is a very favorite Scandinavian ballad, see 'Tærningspillet,' Grundtvig, IV, 402, No 238, in which a fair lady challenges a young horse-boy, or boatswain, to play tables with her, and after having won from him all he has, stakes herself against his shoes or the like. The youth now wins; she makes him handsome offers, rising constantly in value, to let her off, but he will not. God pity me! she says; but he reveals to her that her case is not a bad one, for he is the best king's son in the world.[179]

An imitation of the English ballad by Laplace, 'Lise et Mainfroi,' 1740, terminates more sentimentally. The shepherdess persists that she will have the hand which the king has awarded her, until she stands before the altar. She then declares that her sense of honor has been satisfied, and resigns a very advantageous match (for she is not a princess in disguise), with "Puisses-tu du moins quelquefois te souvenir de ta bergère!" Mainfroi exclaims in a transport, Stay, deign to be my wife! the king and all the court unite in the entreaty, and Lise yields. She certainly is entitled to a statuette in porcelain. See Charles Malo, Les Chansons d'Autrefois, pp. 124-128.

* * * * *

The copy in Percy's Reliques is translated by Bodmer, I, 88.

#a.# Roxburghe Ballads, III, 160, 161. #b.# The same, II, 30, 31.

1 There was a shepherd's daughter Came triping on the way, And there she met a courteous knight, Which caused her to stay. Sing trang dil do lee

2 'Good morow to you, beautious maid,' These words pronounced he; 'O I shall dye this day,' he said, 'If I have not my will of thee.'

3 'The Lord forbid,' the maid reply'd, 'That such a thing should be, That ever such a courteous yong knight Should dye for love of me.'

4 He took her by the middle so small, And laid her down on the plain, And after he had had his will, He took her up again.

5 'Now you have had your wil, good sir, And put my body thus to shame, Even as you are a courteous knight, Tel me what is your name.'

6 'Some men do call me Jack, sweet heart, And some do call me John, But when I come to the king's [fair] court, They call me Sweet William.'

7 He set his foot in the stirrop, And away then did he ride; She tuckt her kirtle about her middle, And run close by his side.

8 But when she came to the broad water, She set her brest and swom, And when she was got out again, She took her heels and run.

9 He never was the courteous knight To say, Fair maid, will you ride? Nor she never was so loving a maid To say, Sir Knight, abide.

10 But when she came to the king's fair court, She knocked at the ring; So ready was the king himself To let this fair maid in.

11 'O Christ you save, my gracious leige, Your body Christ save and see! You have got a knight within your court This day hath robbed me.

12 'What hath he robbed thee of, fair maid? Of purple or of pall? Or hath he took thy gay gold ring, From off thy finger small?'

13 'He hath not robbed me, my liege, Of purple nor of pall; But he hath got my maidenhead, Which grieves me worst of all.'

14 'Now if he be a batchelor, His body I'le give to thee; But if he be a married man, High hanged shall he be.'

15 He called down his merry men all, By one, by two, and by three; Sweet William was us'd to be the first, But now the last comes hee.

16 He brought her down full forty pound, Ty'd up with[in] a glove: 'Fair maid, I give the same to the, And seek another love.'

17 'O I'le have none of your gold,' she said, 'Nor I'le have none of your fee; But I must have your fair body The king hath given me.'

18 Sweet William ran and fetcht her then Five hundred pound in gold, Saying, Fair maid, take this unto thee; Thy fault will never be told.

19 ''T is not your gold that shall me tempt,' These words then answered she, 'But I must have your own body; So the king hath granted me.'

20 'Would I had drank the fair water When I did drink the wine, That ever any shepherd's daughter Should be a fair lady of mine!

21 Would I had drunk the puddle-water When I did drink the ale, That ever any shepherd's daughter Should have told me such a tale!'

22 'A shepheard's daughter as I was, You might have let me be; I'd never come to the king's fair court To have craved any love of thee.'

23 He set her on a milk-white steed, And himselfe upon a gray; He hung a bugle about his neck, And so they rode away.

24 But when they came unto the place Where marriage rites were done, She provd her self a duke's daughter, And he but a squire's son.

25 'Now you have married me, sir knight, Your pleasures may be free; If you make me lady of one good town, I'le make you lord of three.'

26 'Accursed be the gold,' he said, 'If thou hadst not bin true, That should have parted thee from me, To have chang'd thee for a new.'

27 Their hearts being then so linked fast, And joyning hand in hand, He had both purse and person too, And all at his command.

Kinloch MSS, V, 255, in the handwriting of Mr Kinloch.

1 There was a shepherd's dochter Kept sheep upon yon hill, And by cam a gay braw gentleman, And wad hae had his will.

2 He took her by the milk-white hand, And laid her on the ground, And whan he got his will o her He lift her up again.

3 'O syne ye've got your will o me, Your will o me ye've taen, 'T is all I ask o you, kind sir, Is to tell to me your name.'

4 'Sometimes they call me Jack,' he said, 'Sometimes they call me John, But whan I am in the king's court, My name is Wilfu Will.'

5 Then he loup on his milk-white steed, And straught away he rade, And she did kilt her petticoats, And after him she gaed.

6 He never was sae kind as say, O lassie, will ye ride? Nor ever had she the courage to say, O laddie, will ye bide!

7 Until they cam to a wan water, Which was called Clyde, And then he turned about his horse, Said, Lassie, will ye ride?

8 'I learned it in my father's hall, I learned it for my weel, That whan I come to deep water, I can swim as it were an eel.

9 'I learned it in my mother's bower, I learned it for my better, That whan I come to broad water, I can swim like ony otter.'

10 He plunged his steed into the ford, And straught way thro he rade, And she set in her lilly feet, And thro the water wade.

11 And whan she cam to the king's court, She tirled on the pin, And wha sae ready's the king himsel To let the fair maid in?

12 'What is your will wi me, fair maid? What is your will wi me?' 'There is a man into your court This day has robbed me.'

13 'O has he taen your gold,' he said, 'Or has he taen your fee? Or has he stown your maidenhead, The flower of your bodye?'

14 'He has na taen my gold, kind sir, Nor as little has he taen my fee, But he has taen my maidenhead, The flower of my bodye.'

15 'O gif he be a married man, High hangit shall he be, But gif he be a bachelor, His body I'll grant thee.'

16 'Sometimes they call him Jack,' she said, 'Sometimes they call him John, But whan he's in the king's court, His name is Sweet William.'

17 'There's not a William in a' my court, Never a one but three, And one of them is the Queen's brother; I wad laugh gif it war he.'

18 The king called on his merry men, By thirty and by three; Sweet Willie, wha used to be foremost man, Was the hindmost a' but three.

19 O he cam cripple, and he cam blind, Cam twa-fald oer a tree: 'O be he cripple, or be he blind, This very same man is he.'

20 'O whether will ye marry the bonny may, Or hang on the gallows-tree?' 'O I will rather marry the bonny may, Afore that I do die.'

21 But he took out a purse of gold, Weel locked in a glove: 'O tak ye that, my bonny may, And seek anither love.'

22 'O I will hae none o your gold,' she says, 'Nor as little ony of your fee, But I will hae your ain body, The king has granted me.'

23 O he took out a purse of gold, A purse of gold and store; 'O tak ye that, fair may,' he said, 'Frae me ye'll neer get mair.'

24 'O haud your tongue, young man,' she says, 'And I pray you let me be; For I will hae your ain body, The king has granted me.'

25 He mounted her on a bonny bay horse, Himsel on the silver grey; He drew his bonnet out oer his een, He whipt and rade away.

26 O whan they cam to yon nettle bush, The nettles they war spread: 'O an my mither war but here,' she says, 'These nettles she wad sued.'

27 'O an I had drank the wan water Whan I did drink the wine, That eer a shepherd's dochter Should hae been a love o mine!'

28 'O may be I'm a shepherd's dochter, And may be I am nane; But you might hae ridden on your ways, And hae let me alane.'

29 O whan they cam unto yon mill, She heard the mill clap: . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

30 'Clap on, clap on, thou bonny mill, Weel may thou, I say, For mony a time thou's filled my pock Wi baith oat-meal and grey.'

31 'O an I had drank the wan water Whan I did drink the wine, That eer a shepherd's dochter Should hae been a love o mine!'

32 'O may be I'm a shepherd's dochter, And may be I am nane; But you might hae ridden on your ways, And hae let me alane.

33 'But yet I think a fitter match Could scarcely gang thegither Than the King of France's auld dochter And the Queen of Scotland's brither.'

Kinloch's MSS, VII, 69; apparently from the recitation of Mrs Charles of Torry, Aberdeen, born in Mearnshire.

1 There was a shepherd's dochter Kept sheep on yonder hill; Bye cam a knicht frae the High College, And he wad hae his will.

2 Whan he had got his wills o her, His will as he has taen: 'Wad ye be sae gude and kind As tell to me your name?'

3 'Some ca's me Jock, some ca's me John, Some disna ken my name, But whan I'm into the king's court, Mitchcock is my name.'

4 'Mitchcock! hey!' the lady did say, And spelt it oure again; 'If that 's your name in the Latin tongue, Earl Richard is your name!'

5 O jumpt he upon his horse, And said he wad go ride; Kilted she her green claithing, And said she wad na bide.

6 The knicht rade on, the lady ran, A live-lang simmer's day, Till they cam to a wan water Was calld the river Tay.

7 'Jump on behind, ye weill-faurd may, Or do ye chuse to ride?' 'No, thank ye, sir,' the lady said, 'I rather chuse to wade;' And afore that he was mid-water, She was at the ither side.

8 'Turn back, turn back, ye weill-faurd may, My heart will brak in three:' 'And sae did mine in yon bonny hill-side, Whan ye wad [na] lat me be.'

9 'Whare gat ye that gay claithing This day I see on thee?' 'My mither was a gude milk-nurse, And a gude nourice was she; She nursd the Earl of Stockford's daughter, And gat aw this to me.'

10 Whan she cam to the king's court, She rappit wi a ring; Sae ready as the king himsel Was to let the lady in!

11 'There is a knicht into your court This day has robbed me:' 'O has he taen your gowd,' he says, 'Or has he taen your fee?'

12 'He has na taen my gowd,' she says, 'Nor yet has he my fee; But he has taen my maiden-head, The flowr o my fair bodie.'

13 Then out bespak the queen hersel, Wha sat by the king's knee: There's na a knicht in aw our court Wad hae dune that to thee, Unless it war my brither, Earl Richard, And forbid it it war he!

14 Wad ye ken your love, Amang a hunder men? 'I wad,' said the bonnie ladie, 'Amang five hunder and ten.'

15 The king made aw his merry men pass, By ane, by twa, and three; Earl Richard us'd to be the first man, But he was hinmost man that day.

16 He cam hauping on ane foot, And winking with ae ee; But 'Ha! ha!' said the bonnie ladie, 'That same young man are ye.'

17 He's taen her up to a hie towr-head And offerd her hunder punds in a glove: 'Gin ye be a courteous maid, Ye'll choice anither love.'

18 'What care I for your hunder pund? Na mair than ye wad for mine; What's a hunder pund to me, To a marriage wi a king!'

19 Whan the marriage it was oure, And ilk ane took them horse, 'It never set a beggar's brat At nae knicht's back to be.'

20 The ladie met wi a beggar-wife, And gied her half o crown: 'Tell aw your neebours, whan ye gang hame, That Earl Richard's your gude-son.'

21 'O hold your tongue, ye beggar's brat, My heart will brak in three;' 'And sae did mine on yon bonny hill-side, Whan ye wad na let me be.'

22 Whan she cam to yon nettle-dyke, . . . . . . . 'An my auld mither she was here, Sae weill as she wad ye pu.

23 'She wad boil ye weill, and butter ye weill, And sup till she war fu, And lay her head upon her dish-doup, And sleep like onie sow.'

24 Whan she cam to Earl Richard's house, The sheets war holland fine: 'O haud awa thae linen sheets, And bring to me the linsey clouts I hae been best used in.'

25 ['Awa, awa wi your siller spoons, Haud them awa frae me; It would set me better to feed my flocks Wi the brose-cap on my knee: Sae bring to me the gude ram's horn, The spoons I've been used wi.']

26 'Hold your tongue, ye beggar's brat, My heart will brak in three;' 'And sae did mine on yon bonnie hill-side, Whan ye wadna lat me be.'

27 'I wish I had drank the well-water Whan first I drank the wine! Never a shepherd's dochter Wad hae been a love o mine.

28 'O I wish I'd drank the well-water Whan first I drank the beer, That ever a shepherd's dochter Shoud hae been my only dear!'

* * * * * * *

29 'Ye'll turn about, Earl Richard, And mak some mair o me; An ye mak me lady o ae puir plow, I can mak ye laird o three.'

30 'If ye be the Earl of Stockford's dochter, As I've taen some thouchts ye be, Aft hae I waited at your father's yett, But your face I coud never see.'

Kinloch's MSS, VII, 68; apparently from the recitation of Jenny Watson of Lanark, aged seventy-three. Only such portions of this version were preserved as differed considerably from #C#.

* * * * * * *

1 And he was never sae discreet As bid her loup on and ride, And she was neer sae meanly bred As for to bid him bide.

2 And whan she cam to yon water, It was running like a flude: 'I've learned it in my mither's bouer, I've learned it for my gude, That I can soum this wan water Like a fish in a flude.

3 'I've learned it in my father's bouer, I've learned it for my better, And I will soum this wan water As tho I was ane otter.'

* * * * * * *

4 'Gude day, gude day, my liege the king, Gude day, gude day, to thee;' 'Gude day,' quo he, 'my lady fair, What want ye wi me?'

* * * * * * *

5 'Gin he be a single man, His bodie I'll gie thee; But gin he be a married man, I'll hang him on a tree.'

* * * * * * *

6 He's powd out a hundred punds, Weel lockit in a glove; . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

7 'I'll hae nane o your gowd,' she said, 'Nor either o your fee; But I will hae your ain bodie The king has granted me.'

8 'O was ye gentle gotten, maid? Or was ye gentle born? Or hae ye onie gerss growing? Or hae ye onie corn?

9 'Or hae ye onie lands or rents, Lying at libertie? Or hae ye onie education, To dance alang wi me?'

10 'I was na gentle gotten, madam, Nor was I gentle born; Neither hae I gerss growing, Nor hae I onie corn.

11 'I have na onie lands or rents, Lying at libertie; Nor hae I onie education, To dance alang wi thee.'

12 He lap on ae milk-white steed, And she lap on anither, And then the twa rade out the way Like sister and like brither.

13 And whan she cam to Tyne's water, She wililie did say, Fareweil, ye mills o Tyne's water, With thee I bid gude-day.

14 Fareweil, ye mills o Tyne's water, To you I bid gud-een, Whare monie a day I hae filld my pock, Baith at midnicht and at een.

* * * * * * *

15 Whan they cam to her father's yett, She tirled on the pin; And an auld belly-blind man was sitting there, As they war entering in.

16 'The meetest marriage,' the belly-blind did cry, 'Atween the ane and the ither, Atween the Earl of Stockford's dochter And the Queen o England's brither.'

#a.# Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 81, from Mr Nicol of Strichen, as learned in his youth from old people. #b.# Motherwell's MS., p. 459, derived, no doubt, from Buchan.

1 Earl Richard, once upon a day, And all his valiant men so wight, He did him down to Barnisdale, Where all the land is fair and light.

2 He was aware of a damosel-- I wot fast on she did her bound-- With towers of gold upon her head, As fair a woman as could be found.

3 He said, Busk on you, fair ladye, The white flowers and the red; For I would give my bonnie ship To get your maidenhead.

4 'I wish your bonnie ship rent and rive, And drown you in the sea; For all this would not mend the miss That ye would do to me.' 'The miss is not so great, ladye; Soon mended it might be.

5 'I have four an twenty mills in Scotland, Stands on the water of Tay; You'll have them, and as much flour As they'll grind in a day.'

6 'I wish your bonnie ship rent and rive, And drown you in the sea; For all that would not mend the miss That ye would do to me.' 'The miss is not so great, ladye; Soon mended it will be.

7 'I have four an twenty milk-white cows, All calved in a day; You'll have them, and as much haind grass As they all on can gae.'

8 'I wish your bonnie ship rent and rive, And drown you in the sea; For all that would not mend the miss That ye would do to me.' 'The miss is not so great, ladye; Soon mended it might be.

9 'I have four an twenty milk-white steeds, All foaled in one year; You'll have them, and as much red gold As all their backs can bear.'

10 She turned her right and round about, And she swore by the mold; 'I would not be your love,' said she, 'For that church full of gold.'

11 He turned him right and round about, And he swore by the mess; Says, Ladye, ye my love shall be, And gold ye shall have less.

12 She turned her right and round about, And she swore by the moon; 'I would not be your love,' says she, 'For all the gold in Rome.'

13 He turned him right and round about, And he swore by the moon; Says, Ladye, ye my love shall be, And gold ye shall have none.

14 He caught her by the milk-white hand, And by the grass-green sleeve, And there has taken his will of her, Wholly without her leave.

15 The ladye frownd, and sadly blushd, And oh, but she thought shame! Says, If you are a knight at all, You surely will tell me your name.

16 'In some places they call me Jack, In other some they call me John; But when into the queen's court, O then Lithcock it is my name!'

17 'Lithcock! Lithcock!' the ladye said, And oft she spelt it ower again; 'Lithcock! it's Latin,' the ladye said, 'Richard's the English of that name.'

18 The knight he rode, the ladye ran, A live-long summer's day. Till they came to the wan water That all men do call Tay.

19 He set his horse head to the water, Just thro it for to ride, And the ladye was as ready as him The waters for to wade.

20 For he had never been as kind-hearted As to bid the ladye ride, And she had never been so low-hearted As for to bid him bide.

21 But deep into the wan water There stands a great big stone; He turned his wight horse head about, Said, Ladye fair, will ye loup on?

22 She's taken the wand was in her hand And struck it on the faem, And before he got the middle-stream The ladye was on dry land: 'By help of God and our Lady, My help lyes not in your hand!

23 'I learned it from my mother dear, Few are there that have learned better, When I come to deep water, I can swim thro like ony otter.

24 'I learned it from my mother dear, I find I learnd it for my weel, When I come to a deep water, I can swim thro like ony eel.'

25 'Turn back, turn back, you ladye fair, You know not what I see; There is a ladye in that castle That will burn you and me.' 'Betide me weel, betide me wae, That ladye I will see.'

26 She took a ring from her finger, And gave it the porter for his fee; Says, Take you that, my good porter, And bid the queen speak to me.

27 And when she came before the queen, There she fell low down on her knee; Says, There is a knight into your court This day has robbed me.

28 'O has he robbed you of your gold, Or has he robbed you of your fee?' 'He has not robbed me of my gold, He has not robbed me of my fee; He has robbed me of my maidenhead, The fairest flower of my bodie.'

29 'There is no knight in all my court, That thus has robbed thee, But you'll have the truth of his right hand, Or else for your sake he'll die:

30 'Tho it were Earl Richard, my own brother, And, Oh, forbid that it be!' Then sighing said the ladye fair, I wot the same man is he.

31 The queen called on her merry men, Even fifty men and three; Earl Richard used to be the first man, But now the hindmost man was he.

32 He's taken out one hundred pounds, And told it in his glove; Says, Take you that, my ladye fair, And seek another love.

33 'Oh, no! oh, no!' the ladye cried, 'That's what shall never be; I'll have the truth of your right hand, The queen it gave to me.'

34 ['I wish I'd drunken your water, sister, When I did drink thus of your ale, That for a carl's fair daughter It does me gar dree all this bale!]

35 'I wish I had drunk of your water, sister, When I did drink your wine, That for a carle's fair daughter It does gar me dree all this pine!'

36 'May be I am a carle's daughter, And may be never nane; When ye met me in the greenwood, Why did you not let me alane?'

37 'Will you wear the short clothes, Or will you wear the side? Or will you walk to your wedding, Or will you till it ride?'

38 'I will not wear the short clothes, But I will wear the side; I will not walk to my wedding, But I to it will ride.'

39 When he was set upon the horse, The lady him behin, Then cauld and eerie were the words The twa had them between.

40 She said, Good e'en, ye nettles tall, Just there where ye grow at the dyke; If the auld carline my mother were here, Sae weel's she would your pates pyke!

41 How she would stap you in her poke-- I wot at that she wadna fail-- And boil ye in her auld brass pan, And of ye make right good kail!

42 And she would meal you with millering, That she gathers at the mill, And make you thick as ony daigh: And when the pan was brimful,

43 Would mess you up in scuttle-dishes, Syne bid us sup till we were fou, Lay down her head upon a poke, Then sleep and snore like ony sow.

44 'Away, away, you bad woman! For all your vile words grieveth me; When you hide so little for yourself, I'm sure ye'll hide far less for me.

45 'I wish I had drunk your water, sister, When that I did drink of your wine, Since for a carle's fair daughter, It aye gars me dree all this pine.'

46 'May be I am a carle's daughter, And may be never nane; When ye met me in the good greenwood, Why did you not let me alane?

47 'Gude een, gude een, ye heather-berries, As ye're growing on yon hill; If the auld carline and her bags were here, I wot she would get meat her fill.

48 'Late, late at night, I knit our pokes, With even four an twenty knots; And in the morn at breakfast time I'll carry the keys of an earl's locks.

49 'Late, late at night, I knit our pokes, With even four an twenty strings; And if you look to my white fingers, They have as many gay gold rings.'

50 'Away, away, ye ill woman! So sore your vile words grieveth me; When you hide so little for yourself, I'm sure ye'll hide far less for me.

51 'But if you are a carle's daughter, As I take you to be, How did you get the gay cloathing In greenwood ye had on thee?'

52 'My mother, she's a poor woman, She nursed earl's children three, And I got them from a foster-sister, For to beguile such sparks as thee.'

53 'But if you be a carle's daughter, As I believe you be, How did you learn the good Latin In greenwood ye spoke to me?'

54 'My mother, she's a mean woman, She nursd earl's children three; I learnt it from their chaplain, To beguile such sparks as ye.'

55 When mass was sung, and bells were rung, And all men bound for bed, Then Earl Richard and this ladye In ae bed they were laid.

56 He turned his face unto the stock, And she her's to the stane, And cauld and dreary was the love That was these twa between.

57 Great mirth was in the kitchen, Likewise intill the ha, But in his bed lay Earl Richard, Wiping the tears awa.

58 He wept till he fell fast asleep, Then slept till light was come; Then he did hear the gentlemen That talked in the room:

59 Said, Saw ye ever a fitter match, Betwixt the ane and ither, The king of Scotland's fair dochter And the queen of England's brither?

60 'And is she the king o Scotland's fair dochter? This day, O weel is me! For seven times has my steed been saddled, To come to court with thee; And with this witty lady fair, How happy must I be!'

#a.# Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 91; from the recitation of an old person. #b.# Christie's Traditional Ballad Airs, I, 184.

1 Earl Lithgow he's a hunting gane, Upon a summer's day, And he's fa'en in with a weel-far'd maid, Was gathering at the slaes.

2 He's taen her by the milk-white hand, And by the grass-green sleeve; He led her to the foot of a tree, At her he spierd nae leave.

3 The lassie being well learned, She turned her right around; Says, Will ye be as good, kind sir, As tell to me your name?

4 'Whiles they call me Jack,' he says, 'And whiles they call me John; But when I'm in the queen's high court, Earl Litchcock is my name.'

5 The lassie being well learned, She spelld it ower again; Says, Litchcock is a Latin word, But Lithgow is your name.

6 The lassie being well learned, She spelld it ower again; Says, Lithgow is a gentle word, But Richard is your name.

7 She has kilted her green claithing A little abeen her knee; The gentleman rode, and the lassie ran, Till at the water o Dee.

8 When they were at the water o Dee, And at the narrow side, He turned about his high horse head, Says, Lassie, will ye ride?

9 'I learned it in my mother's bower, I wish I had learned it better, When I came to this wan water, To swim like ony otter.

10 'I learned it in my mother's bower, I wish I had learned it weel, That when I came to a wan water, To swim like ony eel.'

11 She has kilted her green claithing A little abeen her knee; The gentleman rode, the lassie swam, Thro the water o Dee: Before he was at the middle o the water, At the other side was she.

12 She sat there and drest hersell, And sat upon a stone; There she sat to rest hersell, And see how he'd come on.

13 'How mony miles hae ye to ride? How mony hae I to gang?' 'I've thirty miles to ride,' he says, 'And ye've as mony to gang.'

14 'If ye've thirty miles to ride,' she says, 'And I've as mony to gae, Ye'll get leave to gang yoursell; It will never be gane by me.'

15 She's gane to the queen's high court, And knocked at the pin; Who was sae ready as the proud porter, To let this lady in!

16 She's put her hand in her pocket, And gien him guineas three: 'Ye will gang to the queen hersell, And tell her this frae me.

17 'There is a lady at your yetts Can neither card nor spin; But she can sit in a lady's bower, And lay gold on a seam.'

18 He's gane ben thro ae lang room, And he's gane ben thro twa, Till he came to a lang, lang trance, And then came to the ha.

19 When he came before the queen, Sat low down on his knee: 'Win up, win up, my proud porter, What makes this courtesie?'

20 'There is a lady at your yetts Can neither card nor spin; But she can sit in a lady's bower, And lay gold on a seam.'

21 'If there is a lady at my yetts That cannot card nor spin, Ye'll open my yetts baith wide and braid, And let this lady in.'

22 Now she has gane ben thro ae room, And she's gane ben thro twa, And she gaed ben a lang, lang trance, Till she came to the ha.

23 When she came before the queen, Sat low down on her knee: 'Win up, win up, my fair woman, What makes such courtesie?'

24 'My errand it's to thee, O queen, My errand it's to thee; There is a man within your courts This day has robbed me.'

25 'O has he taen your purse, your purse, Or taen your penny-fee? Or has he taen your maidenhead, The flower of your bodie?'

26 'He hasna taen my purse, my purse, Nor yet my penny-fee, But he has taen my maidenhead, The flower of my bodi'

27 'It is if he be a batchelor, Your husband he shall be; But if he be a married man, High hanged he shall be.

28 'Except it be my brother, Litchcock, I hinna will it be he;' Sighd and said that gay lady, That very man is he.

29 She's calld on her merry men a', By ane, by twa, by three; Earl Litchcock used to be the first, But the hindmost man was he.

30 He came cripple on the back, Stane blind upon an ee; And sighd and said Earl Richard, I doubt this calls for me.

31 He's laid down a brand, a brand, And next laid down a ring; It's thrice she minted to the brand, But she's taen up the ring: There's not a knight in a' the court, But calld her a wise woman.

32 He's taen out a purse of gold, And tauld it on a stane; Says, Take ye that, my fair woman, And ye'll frae me be gane.

33 'I will hae nane o your purse[s] o gold, That ye tell on a stane; But I will hae yoursell,' she says, 'Another I'll hae nane.'

34 He has taen out another purse, And tauld it in a glove; Says, Take ye that, my fair woman, And choice another love.

35 'I'll hae nane o your purses o gold, That ye tell in a glove; But I will hae yoursell,' she says, 'I'll hae nae ither love.'

36 But he's taen out another purse, And tauld it on his knee; Said, Take ye that, ye fair woman, Ye'll get nae mair frae me.

37 'I'll hae nane o your purses o gold, That ye tell on your knee; But I will hae yoursell,' she says, 'The queen has granted it me.'

38 'O will ye hae the short claithing, Or will ye hae the side? Or will ye gang to your wedding, Or will ye to it ride?'

39 'I winna hae the short claithing, But I will hae the side; I winna gang to my wedding, But to it I will ride.'

40 The first town that they came till They made the mass be sung, And the next town that they came till They made the bells be rung.

41 And the next town that they came till He bought her gay claithing, And the next town that they came till They held a fair wedding.

42 When they came to Mary-kirk, The nettles grew on the dyke: 'If my auld mither, the carlin, were here, Sae well's she would you pyke.

43 'Sae well's she would you pyke' she says, 'She woud you pyke and pou, And wi the dust lyes in the mill Sae woud she mingle you.

44 'She'd take a speen intill her hand, And sup ere she be fou, Syne lay her head upon a sod, And snore like ony sow.'

45 When she came to yon mill-dams, Says, Weel may ye clap; I wyte my minnie neer gaed by you Wanting mony a lick.

46 He's drawn his hat out ower his face, Muckle shame thought he; She's driven her cap out ower her locks, And a light laugh gae she.

47 When they were wedded, and well bedded, And hame at dinner set, Then out it spake our bride hersell, And she spake never blate.

48 Put far awa your china plates, Put them far awa frae me, And bring to me my humble gockies, That I was best used wi.

49 Put far awa your siller speens, Had them far awa frae me, And bring to me my horn cutties, That I was best used wi.

50 When they were dined and well served, And to their dancing set, Out it spake our bride again, For she spake never blate.

51 If the auld carlin, my mither, were here, As I trust she will be, She'll fear the dancing frae us a', And gar her meal-bags flee.

52 When bells were rung, and mass was sung, And a' men bound for rest, Earl Richard and the beggar's daughter In ae chamber were placed.

53 'Had far awa your fine claithing, Had them far awa frae me, And bring to me my fleachy clouts, That I was best used wi.

54 'Had far awa your holland sheets, Had them far awa frae me, And bring to me my canvas clouts, That I was best used wi.

55 'Lay a pock o meal beneath my head, Another aneath my feet, A pock o seeds beneath my knees, And soundly will I sleep.'

56 'Had far awa, ye carlin's get, Had far awa frae me; It disna set a carlin's get My bed-fellow to be.'

57 'It's may be I'm a carlin's get, And may be I am nane; But when ye got me in good greenwood, How letna you me alane?'

58 'It is if you be a carlin's get, As I trust well ye be, Where got ye all the gay claithing You brought to greenwood with thee?'

59 'My mother was an auld nourice, She nursed bairns three; And whiles she got, and whiles she staw, And she kept them a' for me; And I put them on in good greenwood, To beguile fause squires like thee.'

60 It's out then spake the Billy-Blin, Says, I speak nane out of time; If ye make her lady o nine cities, She'll make you lord o ten.

61 Out it spake the Billy-Blin, Says, The one may serve the other; The King of Gosford's ae daughter, And the Queen of Scotland's brother.

62 'Wae but worth you, Billy-Blin, An ill death may ye die! My bed-fellow he'd been for seven years Or he'd kend sae muckle frae me.'

63 'Fair fa ye, ye Billy-Blin, And well may ye aye be! In my stable is the ninth horse I've killd, Seeking this fair ladie: Now we're married, and now we're bedded, And in each other's arms shall lie.'

Gibb MS., No 1. From recitation; traced to Mrs E. Lindsay, about 1800.

1 Jo Janet has to the greenwood gane, Wi a' her maidens free, . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

* * * * * * *

2 'Some ca me Jack, some ca me John, Some ca me Jing-ga-lee, But when I am in the queen's court Earl Hitchcock they ca me.'

3 'Hitchcock, Hitchcock,' Jo Janet she said, An spelled it ower agane, 'Hitchcock it's a Latin word; Earl Richard is your name.'

4 But when he saw she was book-learned, Fast to his horse hied he; But she kilted up her gay claithing, An fast, fast followed she.

5 Aye he rade, an aye she ran, The live-lang simmer's day, Till they came to the wan water, An a' men call it Tay.

6 She has tane the narrow fuird, An he has tane the wide, An ere he was in the middle-water, Jo Janet was at the ither side.

7 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . As swift as eel or otter.

8 An when she cam to the queen's court She tirled at the pin, An wha sae ready as the queen hersel To let Jo Janet in!

9 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 'There is a knicht into your court This day has robbed me.'

10 'Has he robbed you o your gold, fair may, Or robbed you o your fee? Or robbed you o your maidenhead, The flower o your bodie?'

11 'He has nae robbed me o my gold,' she said, 'Nor o my weel won fee, But he has robbed me o my maidenhead, The flower o my bodie.'

12 'It's if he be a married knight, It's hanged he shall be; But if he be a single knight, It's married ye sall be.

13 'There's but three knichts into my court This day hae been frae me, An ane is Earl Richard, my brither, An I hope it is na he:' Then sichin said Jo Janet, The very same man is he.

14 The queen has called on her merry men By thirty and by three; He wont to be the foremost man, But hinmost in cam he.

15 'Is this your tricks abroad, Richard, Is this your tricks abroad, Wheneer ye meet a bonny may To lay her on the road?'

* * * * * * *

16 But he took out a purse o gold, . . . . . . . Says, Tak you that, my bonny may, An seek nae mair o me.

17 'I winna hae your gold,' she said, 'I winna hae your fee; I'll hae the troth o your right hand The queen has promised me.'

* * * * * * *

18 As they rade bye yon bonny mill-town Sae fair's the nettles grew; Quoth she, If my auld mither were here, Sae finely's she wad you pu.

19 She wad you nip, she wad you clip, Sae finely's she wad you pu, An pit you on in a wee, wee pat, An sup till she were fu, Syne rowe her heid in her gown-tail, An sleep like ony soo.

20 He drew his hat down ower his broos, An a doon look gae he, But she threw her locks out ower her cocks, An nae ways dung was she.

21 'It's if ye be a beggar's brat, As I dout na but ye be, It's where gat ye the gay claithing That hings down to your knee?'

22 'My mither was nurse to Earl Marshall's dother, An a fine lady is she, An aye when she gets new claithing She casts the auld to me:' An sichin said Earl Richard, My ain true-love is she!

23 But if you be a beggar's brat, As I doutna but ye be, Where got ye the Latin words Ye said in greenwood to me?

24 'My mither was a bad woman, She served sic men as thee, An a' the gear at ever she got She waired it a' on me, An learned me weel the Latin tongue, To beguile sic sparks as thee.'

25 'Awa, awa, ye ill woman, An ill death mat ye dee! . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

26 When they were a' at supper set, An siller spoons gaen roun, It's, 'Haud awa yer siller spoons, Haud them far awa frae me, An bring to me a guid ramshorn, The thing I'm best used wi.'

27 An when they were at supper set, An the ale-caup gaen about, She took it in her arms twa, An sae clean's she lickit it oot.

28 He drew his hat doun ower his broos, An a doun look gae he, But she threw her locks out ower her cocks, An nae ways dung was she.

29 When mass was sung, and bells were rung, An a' men boun to bed, Earl Richard an Jo Janet In ae bed they were laid.

30 He turned his face unto the stock, An sair, sair did he weep; She turned her face unto the wa, An sound she fell asleep.

31 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . The Billie Blin stood up at their bed-feet.

32 Said, Saw ye ever a fitter match Atween the tane and the tither, The Earl Marshall['s] ae dother An the Queen o Scotland's brither?

33 'Wae be to you for an ill woman, An ill death mat ye dee! For mony's the mare and mare's foal I've bursten seekin thee.'

34 ... a cup o wine, Quoth, Here's to thee and me! If ye mak me lady o ae puir pleugh, I'll mak ye lord o three.

Kinloch's MSS, V, 20, in the handwriting of Mr James Beattie, 1820, and from the recitation of one of the Miss Beatties, his aunts, native in The Mearns: also Kinloch MS., VII, 61, and Kinloch's Scottish Ballads, p. 25.

1 There was a shepherd's daughter, Kept sheep on yonder hill; There came a knight o courage bright, And he wad have his will. Diddle, &c.

2 He's taen her by the milk-white hand, Gien her a gown o green; 'O take you that, fair may,' he says, 'There's nae mair o me to be seen.'

3 'Since ye have taen your wills o me, Your wills o me you've taen, Since ye have taen your wills o me, Pray tell to me your name.'

4 'O some they call me Jack, lady, And others call me John; But when I'm in the king's court, Sweet William is my name.'

5 She's kilted up her green clothing A little below her knee, And she is to the king's court, As fast as she could gae.

6 And when she came unto the king, She knelt low on her knee: 'There is a man into your court This day has robbed me.'

7 'Has he robbd you of your gold,' he says, 'Or of your white monie? Or robbd you of the flowery branch, The flower of your bodie?'

8 'He has not robbd me of my gold,' she says, 'Nor of my white monie, But he's robbd me of the flowery branch, The flower of my bodie.'

9 'O if he be a bond-man, High hanged shall he be; But if he be a free man, He'se well provide for thee.'

10 The king's called on his nobles all, By thirty and by three; Sweet William should have been the foremost man, But the hindmost man was he.

11 'Do you not mind yon shepherd's daughter, You met on yonder hill? When a' her flocks were feeding round, Of her you took your will.'

12 And he's taen out a purse o gold, And tied up in a glove; 'Take you that, fair may,' he says, 'And choice for you a love.'

13 O he's taen out three hundred pounds, Tied up in a purse; 'See, take you that, fair may,' he says, 'And that will pay the nurse.'

14 'I'll neither have your gold,' she says, 'Nor yet your white monie, But I will have the king's grant, That he has granted me.'

15 Then he's taen her on a milk-white steed, Himsell upon another, And to his castle they have rode, Like sister and like brother.

16 O ilka nettle that they came to, 'O well mote you grow! For mony a day's my minny and me Pilkit at your pow.'

17 O ilka mill that they came to, 'O well mote you clack! For monie a day's my minnie and me Buckled up our lap.'

* * * * * * *

18 'You're the king of England's ae brother, I trust well that you be; I'm the Earl of Stampford's ae daughter, And he has nae mair but me.'

19 O saw you eer such a near marriage, Between the one and the other, The Earl of Stampford's ae daughter, And the King of England's brother!

Communicated by Dr Thomas Davidson, from his own recollection; Aberdeenshire.

1 There was a shepherd's daughter, Kept flocks on yonder hill, And by there cam a courteous knight, Wud fain and hae his will.

* * * * * * *

2 'Some do ca me Jock,' he said, 'And some do ca me John, But when I do ride i the king's high court, Gulelmus is my name.'

* * * * * * *

3 And when she came to the kinges court She tirled at the pin, And wha was there but the king himsel, To lat this fair maid in!

4 'Now Christ you save, my lord,' she said, 'Now Christ you save and see; There is a knicht into your court This day has robbed me.

5 'He's na robbed me o my silken purse, Nor o my white money, But he's robbed me o my maidenheid, The flower o my bodie.'

6 'O gin he be a single man, Weel married sall ye be, But an he be a married man, He's hang upon a tree.'

7 Then he called up his merry men a', By one, by two, and by three, And William should a been the first, But the hindmost man was he.

8 And he cam hirplin on a stick, And blin upon an ee, But sighand said that gay ladie, That same man robbed me.

* * * * * * *

9 'Gin I had drunk the wan water, When I did drink the wine, A cairdman's daughter Should never be a true-love o mine.'

10 'Maybe I'm a cairdman's daughter, And maybe I am nane; But when ye did come to good green wood, Ye sud hae latten me alane.'

11 She set upon a milk-white steed, An himsel on a dapple grey, An she had as much lan in fair Scotlan 'S ye cud ride in a lang simmer's day.

Dr Joseph Robertson's Journal of Excursions, No 7. Taken down from a man in the parish of Leochel, Aberdeenshire, February 12, 1829.

* * * * * * *

1 'Some ca'ss me James, some ca'as me John, I carena what they ca me, But when I [am] at hame in my ain country, It's Lispcock that they ca me.'

2 The lassie being well beuk-learned, She spelled it ower again; Says, Lispcock in a Latin beuk Spells Erl Richard in plain.

3 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . The lassie kilted up her green claithing, And fast, fast followed on.

4 Till they cam till a wide water, . . . . . . . He's turned his hie horse head about, Says, Lassie will ye ride?

5 'I learned it in my mother's bower, I wish I'd learned it better, Whanever I cam to any wide water, To soum like ony otter.'

6 The laird he chused the ford to ride, The ladie the pot to swim, And or the laird was half water, The ladie was on dry lan.

7 O he rade on to yon hie castell, He rade it richt and roun about; The laird gaed in at ae back-door, But the ladie beet to knock.

8 O out it cam the proud porter, Wi his hat into his han, . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

9 She's pitten her hand in her pocket, Pulld out guineas three, And that she's given to the proud porter, To cause her to get entrance there.

10 The proud porter ran up the stair, O fifteen steps he made but three: 'The prettiest lady stands at yer yetts That ever my een did see.'

11 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 'Goe doun, goe doun, you proud porter, Cause her to cum up to me.'

12 When she gaed in before the queen, She fell low down on her knee: 'There is a man into your courts This day has robbed me.'

13 'Has he robbed you o your fine clothing, Or o your white monie? Or taen frae you your maidenhead, The flower o your bodie?'

14 'He hasna robbed me o my fine clothing, Nor o my white monie, But he's taen frae me my maidenhead, The flower o my bodie.'

15 'O gin he be a married man, High hanged sall he be; And gin he be a batchelere, Well wedded shall ye be.'

16 O she has called in her merry young men, By thirties and by threes; Earl Richard should hae been the foremost man, But the hindmost man was he.

17 He cam limpin on a staff, And blinkin on an ee, And sichand says that gay ladie, That samen man is he.

* * * * * * *

Motherwell's MS., p. 226. From the recitation of Widow McCormick, Westbrae, Paisley, 1825; learned of an old woman in Dumbarton, thirty or forty years before.

1 There was a shepherd's daughter, Kept sheep on yonder hill; O by comes a courtier, And fain wud hae his will. We'll go no more a roving, A roving in the night, We'll go no more a roving, Let the moon shine neer so bright. O we'll go [no] more a roving.

2 He took her by the middle so small, And by the grass-green sleeve; He bended her body unto the ground, And of her parents he askd no leave.

3 'Now since you've got your will o me. And brought my fair bodie to shame, All the request I ask of you is, Pray tell me what's your name.'

4 'O some do call me Jack,' he says, 'And some do call me John, But when I am in the king's court, My name is Sweet William.'

5 She took her petticoats by the band, Her mantle oer her arm, And she's awa to the king's court, As fast as she could run.

6 When she came to the king's court, She tinkled at the ring; Who was so ready as the king himsel To let this fair maid in!

7 And when she came before the king, She kneeled low by his knee; 'What's this? what's this, fair maid,' he says, 'What's this you ask of me?'

8 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 'There is a knight into your court This day has robbed me.'

9 'If he robbed you of your gold,' he said, 'It's hanged he must be; If he's robbed you of your maidenhead, His body I grant to thee.'

10 'He's not robbed me of my gold,' she said, 'Nor of my white money, But he's robbed me of my maidenhead, The flower of my bodie.'

11 He's called down his merry men all, By one, by two, by three; John used to be the foremost man, But the hindmost man was he.

12 He took a long purse of gold And wrapped it in a glove: 'Here's to thee, my dearest dear, Go seek some other love.'

13 'I'll have none of your gold,' she says, 'Nor any of your white money, But I'll just have your own bodie The king has granted to me.'

14 'I wish I was drinking the well-water When I drank of the ale, Before a shepherd's daughter Would tell me such a tale.'

15 He got her on a milk-white steed, Himself upon a grey, Then on a day ... This couple rode away.

16 It's when they were coming by the nettle-bush, She said, So well may you grow! For many a day my mammy and me Hae pickled at your pow.

17 When they cam by the mill-door, she said, So well may you clatter! For many a day my mammy and me Pickled at your happer.

18 When they came to the king's court, They reckoned up their kin; She was a king's one dochter, And he but a blacksmith's son.

Motherwell's Note-Book, p. 1, recited by Miss Brown, of Glasgow, after a blind aunt.

* * * * * * *

1 'I learned it in my father's bower, And I learned it for the better, That every water I coudna wade, I swam it like an otter. With my low silver ee.

2 'I learned it in my father's bower, And I learned it for my weel, That every water I coudna wade, I swam it like an eel.'

* * * * * * *

3 And he cam hirpling on a stick, And leaning on a tree: 'Be he cripple, or be he blind, The same man is he.'

* * * * *

#A. a.#

The beautifull Shepherdesse of Arcadia. A new pastorell Song of a courteous young Knight and a supposed Shepheard's Daughter. To a gallant tune, called the Shepheards Delight... London, Printed for William Gilbertson. _Gilbertson published 1640-63: Chappell. Dated 1655 in the Museum Catalogue._

4, 6. Burden Trang dang.

7^3. abeut.

10^1. cour.

12^4. fingets.

18^4. faults.

24^2. rights.

27^1. Perhaps to linked.

Some trivial errors of the press have been corrected.

#b.#

The Beautiful Shepherdess of Arcadia: A new Pastoral Song of a courteous young Knight and a supposed Shepherd's Daughter of Arcadia, in Peloponnesus. To the Tune of The Shepherd's Daughter, &c. London: Printed for A. M., W. O., and T. Thackeray, at the sign of the Angel in Duck [Lane]. Dated 1680? in the Catalogue.

3^3. yong wanting.

4^1. about the middle.

4^2. down wanting.

4^3. had got.

5^1. kind sir.

5^2. thus wanting.

6^1. men wanting.

6^3. fair court.

7^1. into the.

7^2. he did.

7^3. her girdle.

9^3. was never.

10^1. But wanting.

11^1. save you.

11^3. got wanting.

12^1. of, sweet-heart.

12^4. finger.

13^2. or of.

13^4. most of.

15^3. was wanting.

16^2. within.

18^3. to thee.

18^4. fault.

19. not thy.

22. wanting, in my transcript.

24^2. rites was.

25^2. will be.

25^4. make thee.

26^3. should a.

27^1. being linked so.

27^2. joyned.

#B.#

23^3. tak he.

#C.#

_#C# and #D# were derived from the recitation of Jenny Watson of Lanark and Mrs Charles of Torry, but which from which we are not distinctly told. An incidental expression of Kinloch's, MSS, VII, 59, may warrant the assigning of #C# to Mrs Charles. #C# is written on the right hand of the MS. and #D# on the left, except that the last two stanzas of #D# are written on the right, and a few readings of #D# are written above those of #C#. (The ink of #D# is blacker.)_

6. omitted by Kinloch in printing.

7^4. wade altered to wyde, according to the pronunciation.

8^4, 21^4. na is wanting.

14^1. Kinloch prints your fause love: in MS. [fause].

25. inserted at p. 23 of Kinloch's interleaved copy of his Ancient Scottish Ballads.

#D#

1^3. frae the king's court.

3^4. Earl Richard is my name.

11^1. anie.

14^4. Altered to At midday and.

16^3. cried the.

17^1. He powd out a hundred punds.

17^2. Weel lockit in a glove.

27^1. Hoch! had I drank the wan water.

27^3. That... a mill-capon.

#E. a.#

6^4. for me: see 4^4, 8^4.

16^4. Oh.

34. wanting, supplied from the MS.

44^{3, 4}, 50^{3, 4}. unless hide is for heed, read heed, as in #b#.

#b.#

1^1. on a.

13^3. ye shall be.

18^4. does.

22^1. wand she had in.

22^4. on the.

22^6. help does not lye.

23^1. omits it.

23^2. is there that has.

23^3. to a.

24^3. came.

25^6. will I.

26^2. omits it.

30^4. samen.

31^1. men all.

31^4. omits man.

34. omitted in #a#.

43^2. we be.

44^{3, 4}. When you heed so little of yourself, I'm sure ye'll heed far less nor me.

47^{3, 4}. If the auld carle and his bags were here, I wot he would get meat his fill.

48^1, 49^1. last night.

50. Away, away, you evil woman, How sore your vile words grieve me! When you heed so little on yourself, I know you will heed less on me.

52^4. as ye.

53^1. you are.

55^1. was rung.

55^3. the ladye.

55^4. In one.

56^1. face to.

56^4. thir twa.

57^1. Great was the mirth.

57^2. into.

57^4. And wiping.

60^4. at thee.

The variations in #b# are probably Motherwell's improvements. He does not adopt all of them in printing, but makes still other slight changes.

#F. b.#

"An epitome (eleven eight-line stanzas) of Buchan's version, with some slight alterations from the way the editor has heard the ballad sung."

15^1. The lady to the queen's court gaed.

15^3. And ready was.

16^2. And gae him gowd sae free.

19^2. He lout doun.

23^2. She lout doun.

30^2. And blind.

33^1, 37^1. I will not hae your purse o gowd.

33^4. And other.

39^2. Nor will I hae.

41^3. And when they came to St. Mary's kirk.

62^3. My husband.

#I.#

1^2. Var. Kept hogs.

8^3. sigh and.

#J.#

3^3. in, perhaps, for on.

3, 4; 8, 9; 11, 12. Written without division in the MS.

17^3. sich &.

#K.#

4^1. Oh.

17^4. Hae added later; pickled altered from pircled.

[172] And Douce, says Mr Chappell. A Tewkesbury copy, not dated, is mentioned by Halliwell, Notes on Fugitive Tracts, etc., Percy Society, vol. xxix, p. 16, No 9.

[173]

There was a shepherd's daughter Came triping on the way, And there she met a courteous knight, Which caused her to stay. Sing trang dil do lee

[174]

He called down his merry men all, By one, by two, by three; William would fain have been the first, But now the last is he.

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