4_The English and Scottish popular ballads, volume 5 (of 5)

‘My love gave me a silver ring,

That was to rule abune aw thing.

‘Whan that ring keeps new in hue,

Ye may ken that your love loves you.

‘Whan that ring turns pale and wan,

Ye may ken that your love loves anither man.’

He hoisted up his sails, and away sailed he

Till he cam to a foreign cuntree.

Whan he lookit to his ring, it was turnd pale and wan;

Says, I wish I war at hame again.

He hoisted up his sails, and hame sailed he

Until he cam till his ain cuntree.

The first ane that he met with,

It was with a puir auld beggar-man.

‘What news? what news, my puir auld man?

What news hae ye got to tell to me?’

‘Na news, na news,’ the puirman did say,

‘But this is our queen’s wedding-day.’

‘Ye’ll lend me your begging-weed,

And I’ll lend you my riding-steed.’

‘My begging-weed is na for thee,

Your riding-steed is na for me.’

He has changed wi the puir auld beggar-man.

‘What is the way that ye use to gae?

And what are the words that ye beg wi?’

‘Whan ye come to yon high hill,

Ye’ll draw your bent bow nigh until.

‘Whan ye come to yon town-end,

Ye’ll lat your bent bow low fall doun.

‘Ye’ll seek meat for St Peter, ask for St Paul,

And seek for the sake of your Hynde Horn all.

‘But tak ye frae nane o them aw

Till ye get frae the bonnie bride hersel O.’

Whan he cam to yon high hill,

He drew his bent bow nigh until.

And when he cam to yon toun-end,

He loot his bent bow low fall doun.

He sought for St Peter, he askd for St Paul,

And he sought for the sake of his Hynde Horn all.

But he took na frae are o them aw

Till he got frae the bonnie bride hersel O.

The bride cam tripping doun the stair,

Wi the scales o red gowd on her hair.

Wi a glass o red wine in her hand,

To gie to the puir beggar-man.

Out he drank his glass o wine,

Into it he dropt the ring.

‘Got ye’t by sea, or got ye’t by land,

Or got ye’t aff a drownd man’s hand?’

‘I got na’t by sea, I got na’t by land,

Nor gat I it aff a drownd man’s hand;

‘But I got it at my wooing,

And I’ll gie it to your wedding.

‘I’ll tak the scales o gowd frae my head,

I’ll follow you, and beg my bread.

‘I’ll tak the scales o gowd frae my hair,

I’ll follow you for evermair.’

She has tane the scales o gowd frae her head,

She’s followed him, to beg her bread.

She has tane the scales o gowd frae her hair,

And she has followd him evermair.

Atween the kitchen and the ha,

There he loot his cloutie cloak fa.

The red gowd shined oure them aw,

And the bride frae the bridegroom was stown awa.

19. King Orfeo.

P. 215. Professor Sophus Bugge maintains that the Scandinavian ballad

‘Harpens Kraft’ shows acquaintance with the English romance, and

indeed, like the English ballad, is derived from it. (Arkiv för nordisk

Filologi, VII, 97 ff., 1891.)

20. The Cruel Mother.

P. 218. Findlay’s MSS, I, 58 f., derived from his mother.

I lookëd ower the castle-wa,

Hey rose, ma lindie, O

Saw twa bonnie babies playin at the ba.

Doon in the green wood-sidie, O

‘O bonnie babies, an ye were mine,

I wad feid ye wi flour-breid an wine.’

‘O cruel mother, when we were thine,

You did not prove to us sae kin.’

‘O bonnie babies, an ye were mine,

I wad cleid ye wi scarlet sae fine.’

‘O cruel mother, when we were thine,

You did not prove to us sae fine.

‘For wi a penknife ye took our life

And threw us ower the castle-wa.’

‘O bonnie babies, what wad ye hae dune to me

For my bein sae cruel to thee?’

‘Seven yeare a fish in the flood,

Seven yeare a bird in the wood.

‘Seven yeare a tinglin bell,

Seventeen yeare in the deepest hell.’

Under the green wood-sidie, O

219 b, 504 a, II, 500 a, III, 502 b, IV, 451 a. Add =S=, Deutsche

Volksballaden aus Südungarn, Grünn und Baróti, in Ethnologische

Mitteilungen aus Ungarn, II, 201, No 4, 1892.

21. The Maid and the Palmer.

P. 228. M. G. Doncieux has attempted to arrange “Le cycle de Sainte

Marie-Madelaine,” in Revue des Traditions Populaires, VI, 257.

22. St Stephen and Herod.

P. 233 ff. ‘Stjærnevisen,’ Kristensen, XI, 207, No 76 =A=, =B=, has

nothing about Stephen, but is confined to the scripture-history, piety,

and New Year’s wishes.

P. 236 a, IV, 451 b. =French.= An imperfect French ballad in Mélusine,

VI, 24, from a wood-cut “at least three centuries old.”

Add a Piedmontese popular tale communicated by Count Nigra to the

editor of Mélusine, VI, 25 f.

M. Gaidoz, at the same place, 26 f., cites two versions of the

resuscitation of the cock, from example-books. The first, from

Erythræus (i.e. Rossi), ch. CLV, p. 187, is essentially the same as the

legend of St Gunther given from Acta Sanctorum (p. 239 a). The other,

from the Giardino d’ Essempi of Razzi, is the story told by Vincentius

(p. 237, note †).

25. Willie’s Lyke-Wake.

P. 250, II, 502 a, III, 503 a. =Italian.= Add: Canti pop. Emiliani,

Maria Carmi, Archivio, XII, 187, No 9. A fragment in Dalmedico, Canti

del popolo veneziano, p. 109, seems, as Maria Carmi suggests, to belong

to this ballad.

26. The Three Ravens.

P. 253. It has already been noted that traditional copies of ‘The Three

Ravens’ have been far from infrequent. When a ballad has been nearly

three hundred years in print, and in a very impressive form, the chance

that traditional copies, differing principally by what they lack,

should be coeval and independent amounts at most to a bare possibility.

Traditional copies have, however, sometimes been given in this

collection on the ground of a very slight chance; and not unreasonably,

I think, considering the scope of the undertaking.

The copy which follows was communicated by E. L. K. to Notes and

Queries, Eighth Series, II, 437, 1892, and has been sent me lately in

MS. by Mr R. Brimley Johnson, of Cambridge, England, with this note:

“From E. Peacock, Esq., F. S. A., of Dunstan House, Kirton-in-Lindsay,

Lincolnshire, whose father, born in 1793, heard it as a boy at

harvest-suppers and sheep-shearings, and took down a copy from the

recitation of Harry Richard, a laborer, who could not read, and had

learnt it ‘from his fore-elders.’ He lived at Northorpe, where a

grass-field joining a little stream, called Ea, Ee, and Hay, is pointed

out as the scene of the tragedy.”

There was three ravens in a tree,

As black as any jet could be.

A down a derry down

Says the middlemost raven to his mate,

Where shall we go to get ought to eat?

‘It’s down in yonder grass-green field

There lies a squire dead and killd.

‘His horse all standing by his side,

Thinking he’ll get up and ride.

‘His hounds all standing at his feet,

Licking his wounds that run so deep.’

Then comes a lady, full of woe,

As big wi bairn as she can go.

She lifted up his bloody head,

And kissd his lips that were so red.

She laid her down all by his side,

And for the love of him she died.

6^2. _Var._ child.

27. The Whummil Bore.

P. 255. Serving the king long without sight of his daughter. Prof.

Wollner notes that this trait is rather frequently found in Slavic. For

example, in Karadžič, II, 617, No 96, Yakšič Mitar serves the vojvode

Yanko nine years and never sees his sister.

29. The Boy and the Mantle.

P. 268 ff., II, 502 a, III, 503, IV, 454 a. Tests of chastity. On the

Herodotean story, I, 271, see =E.= Lefébure, Mélusine, IV, 37-39.--St

Wilfred’s Needle, in Ripon Minster. ‘In ipso templo, avorum memoria

Wilfridi acus celeberrima fuit. Id erat augustum in cryptoporticu

foramen quo mulierum pudicitia explorabatur; quæ enim castæ erant

facile transibant, quæ dubia fama nescio quo miraculo constrictæ

detinebantur.’ Camden, Britannia, ed. 1607, p. 570; see Folk-Lore

Journal, II, 286. (G. L. K.)

31. The Marriage of Sir Gawain.

P. 293. Mr Clouston, Originals and Analogues of some of Chaucer’s

Canterbury Tales, p. 520 cites a pretty story from a modern Turkish

author, in which, as so often happens, parts are reversed. A young king

of the fairies of a certain realm is cursed by his mother to appear old

and ugly until a fair mortal girl shall love him enough to miss his

company. This comes to pass after forty years, and the ugly old man

becomes a beautiful youth of seventeen. (Phantasms from the Presence of

God, written in 1796-97 by ‘Ali ‘Aziz Efendi, the Cretan.)

33. Kempy Kay.

P. 301. =A= was communicated to C. K. Sharpe by Robert Pitcairn with

the stanzas in the order printed by Sharpe. The arrangement in =A=

would seem, therefore, to have been an afterthought of Pitcairn’s.

There is some slight difference of reading, also, in Pitcairn’s MS.,

and one defect is supplied. The variations in the copy sent Sharpe are

(besides the order, as aforesaid) as follows:

2^1. I’m coming.

2^4. o weir.

3^4. three heire _wanting_.

4^4. Shone.

5^2. bruchty.

5^3. the night.

6^3. And in.

7^4. Between.

9^4. a lintseed bow (_with the variant_ a bruchtit ewe).

10^1. lauchty.

10^4. A’ _wanting_.

12^3. teeth into.

13^2. sheets (_no doubt erroneously_). _A stanza between 8 and 9 is

noted as deficient, and something after 13._

303. =C.= In a copy of =C= sent Sharpe by Motherwell in a letter of

December 6, 1824, the fourth stanza is lacking, the fifth is third.

3^2. span: years.

5^2. stool.

‘Knip Knap,’ taken down in the summer of 1893 by Mr Walker, of

Aberdeen, at Portlethen, from the singing of an old man, as learned

more than fifty years before from an old blacksmith at Dyce, near

Aberdeen.

Knip Knap a hunting went,

Out-ower the head o yon hill, aye, aye

Wi a lust o pig-staves out-oer his shouther,

An mony a dulchach forby, aye, aye.

There he met an old woman,

Was herdin at her kye;

‘I’m come yer ae dochter to woo,’

She’s a very good servant,’ said I.

The wife gaed hame to her ain hole-house,

Lookit in at her ain spunk-hole,

An there she saw her ain foul flag,

Loupin across the coal.

‘Win up, win up, my ae foul flag,

An mak yer foul face clean,

For yer wooer is comin here the nicht,

But yer foul face canna be seen. na, na’

She’s taen the sheave-wisps out o her sheen,

An in behint the door,

An she has faen to the stale strang,

Seven year auld an more.

An aye she scrubbit, an aye she weesh,

Out-ower the pint o her chin,

Till a knip-knap cam to the door,

She kent it was her wooer.

He’s taen her in his airms twa,

Kissd her cheek an chin:

‘An I hae gotten kisses twa,

Whaur I never thocht to get ane.’

The verra hair was in her head

Was like the heather-cowe,

An ilka louse at the reet o that

Was like a brockit ewe.

The verra ee was in her head

Was like a muckle pan,

The hunkers and clunkers that hang frae her sheen

Wad hae covered an acre o lan.

The verra teeth was in her head

Was like a tether’s check,

An the sneeters and snotters that hang frae her nose

Wad a gart a frozen mill gang.

The verra tongue was in her head

Wad been a guid mill-clap,

. . . . . . . .

An ye may know very weel by that

She was a comely woman.

34. Kemp Owyne.

P. 309. From a manuscript collection of Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe’s,

p. 2; “Second Collection,” see Sharpe’s Ballad Book, ed. 1880, p. 144.

This copy closely resembles =A=.

Her mother died when she was young,

And was laid in the silent tomb;

The father weded the weel worst woman

This day that lives in Christiendom.

She served her with hands and feet,

In every way that well could be,

Yet she did once upon a day

Throw her in over a craig of sea.

Says, Ly you there, you dove Isabeal,

And let you never borrowed be

Till Kempenwine come ower the sea

And borrow you with kisses three;

Whatever any may do or say,

O borrowed may you never be!

Her breath grew strong, and her hair grew long,

And twisted thrice about a tree,

And so hideous-like she did apear

That all who saw her from her did flee.

Now Kempenwine gat word of this

Where he was living beyond the sea;

He hied him straight unto that shoar,

The monstrous creature for to se.

Her breath was strong, and her hair was long,

And twisted was around the tree,

And with a swing she cried aloud,

Come to craig of sea and kiss with me.

‘Here is a royal ring,’ she cried,

‘That I have found in the green sea,

And while your finger it is on

Drawn shall your blood never be;

But if you touch me, tail or fin,

I vow this brand your death shall be.’

He steppëd in, gave her a kiss,

The royal ring he brought him wi;

Her breath was strong, and [her] hair was long,

Yet twisted twice about the tree,

And with a swing she came about,

‘Come to craig of sea and kiss with me.

‘Here is a royal belt,’ she cried,

‘That I have found in the green sea,

And while your body it is on

Drawn shall your blood never be;

But if you touch me, tail or fin,

I vow this brand your death shall be.’

He steppëd in, gave her a kiss,

The royal belt he brought him wee;

Her breath yet strong, her hair yet long,

Yet twisted once about the tree,

And with a swing she came about,

‘Come to craig of sea and kiss with me.

‘Here is a royal brand,’ she cried,

‘That I have found in the green sea,

And while your body it is on

Drawn shall your blood never be;

But if you touch me, tail or fin,

I vow my brand your death shall be.’

He steppëd in, gave her a kiss,

The royal brand he brought him wee;

Her breath now soft, her hair now short,

And disengagëd from the tree,

She fell into his arms two,

As fair a woman as ever could be.

_Written in long lines, and not divided into stanzas._

8^2. him with.

6^4, 8^6, 10^6. Craig of sea.

35. Allison Gross.

P. 314. Gifts offered by a hill-maid. ‘Bjærgjomfruens Frieri,’

Kristensen, Skattegraveren, II, 100, No 460; XII, 22 ff., Nos 16, 17;

Folkeminder, XI, 20 ff., No 18, A-E.

36. The Laily Worm and the Mackrel of the Sea.

P. 315. Though Skene has rendered this ballad with reasonable fidelity,

for an editor, it shall, on account of its interest, be given as

it stands in the old lady’s MS., where it is No 2. It proves not

absolutely true, as I have said, that the Skene ballad has “never been

retouched by a pen.”

‘I was bat seven year alld

Fan my mider she did dee,

My father marrëd the ae warst woman

The wardle did ever see.

‘For she has made me the lailly worm

That lays att the fitt of the tree,

An o my sister Meassry

The machrel of the sea.

‘An every Saterday att noon

The machrl comes ea to me,

An she takes my laylë head,

An lays it on her knee,

An keames it we a silver kemm,

An washes it in the sea.

‘Seven knights ha I slain

Sane I lay att the fitt of the tree;

An ye war na my ain father,

The eight an ye sud be.’

‘Sing on your song, ye l[a]ily worm,

That ye sung to me;’

‘I never sung that song

But fatt I wad sing to ye.

‘I was but seven year aull

Fan my mider she [did] dee,

My father marrëd the a warst woman

The wardle did ever see.

‘She changed me to the layel[y] worm

That layes att the fitt of the tree,

An my sister Messry

[To] the makrell of the sea.

‘And every Saterday att noon

The machrell comes to me,

An she takes my layly head,

An layes it on her knee,

An kames it weth a siller kame,

An washes it in the sea.

‘Seven knights ha I slain

San I lay att the fitt of the tree;

An ye war na my ain father,

The eight ye sud be.’

He sent for his lady

As fast as sen cod he:

‘Far is my son,

That ye sent fra me,

And my daughter,

Lady Messry?’

‘Yer son is att our king’s court,

Sarving for meatt an fee,

And yer doughter is att our quin’s court,

A mary suit an free.’

‘Ye lee, ye ill woman,

Sa loud as I hear ye lea,

For my son is the layelly worm

That lays at the fitt of the tree,

An my daughter Messry

The machrell of the sea.’

She has tain a silver wan

An gine him stroks three,

An he started up the bravest knight

Your eyes did ever see.

She has tane a small horn

An loud an shill blue she,

An a’ the came her tell but the proud machrell,

An she stood by the sea:

‘Ye shaped me ance an unshemly shape,

An ye’s never mare shape me.’

He has sent to the wood

For hathorn an fun,

An he has tane that gay lady,

An ther he did her burne.

_Written without division into stanzas or verses._

3^2. comes ea (aye); _but, on repetition in_ 8^2, comes _simply,

with better metre_.

15^1. hes has.

15^3. that that.

316. ‘Nattergalen,’ in Kristensen, Folkeminder, XI, 25, No 20, A-C.

In a Kaffir tale a girl marries a crocodile. The crocodile bids her

lick his face. Upon her doing so, the crocodile casts his skin and

turns into a strong and handsome man. He had been transformed by the

enemies of his father’s house. (Theal, Kaffir Folk-Lore, 1882, p. 37,

cited by Mr Clouston.)

39. Tam Lin.

P. 339. Teind to hell. See Isabel Gowdie’s case, in the Scottish

Journal, I, 256, and compare Pitcairn’s Criminal Trials.

345. =D a.= This copy occurs in “the second collection” of Charles

Kirkpatrick Sharpe, p. 3, with a few variations, as follows. (See

Sharpe’s Ballad Book, ed. 1880, p. 145.)

1^3. Charters wood, _and always_.

3^1. the seam.

3^3. is gone.

5^2. ye.

6^4. ask no.

10^4. we have.

11^1. to me.

12^2. aft.

12^3. the Lord of Forbes.

12^4. all his.

15 _occurs after_ 24.

15^1. Tho Elfin.

15^4. the tenth one goes.

15^5. I am an, _or_, I a man.

16^5. if that.

16^6. miles Cross.

17^1. go unto the Miles cross.

20^4. next the.

23^1, 24^1. int.

25^1. She did her down.

27^2. so green.

27^3. Where.

27^4. ride next.

28^4. he is.

29^4. He.

32^2. and cry.

34^1. I thought.

40. The Queen of Elfan’s Nourice.

P. 358, II, 505 b, III, 505 b, IV, 459 a. Mortal midwife for fairies.

‘La Sage-femme et la Fée,’ R. Basset, Contes pop. berbères, 1887, No

26, p. 55 (and see notes, pp. 162, 163). (G. L. K.)

41. Hind Etin.

P. 361 b, III, 506 a, IV, 459 a. =Danish.= ‘Jomfruen i Bjærget,’

fragment, in Kristensen, Folkeminder, XI, 6, No 12.

364 a, III, 506 a, IV, 459 a. =Danish.= ‘Agnete og Havmanden,’

Kristensen, Skattegraveren, III, p. 17, No 34, XII, 65 ff., Nos 136,

137; Efterslæt, p. 2, No 2, p. 174, No 126; Folkeminder, XI, 7, No 13,

A-D.

42. Clerk Colvill.

P. 371, No 42, p. 389. =C= in Findlay MSS, I, 141: ‘Clerk Colin,’ from

Miss Butchart, Arbroath, 1868. Miss Butchart, who died about 1890, aged

above ninety years, was the daughter of the Mrs Butchart from whom

Kinloch got certain ballads, and niece to the Mrs Arrot who was one of

Jamieson’s contributors. In the MS. there are these readings:

2^3. To gang.

4^3. maun gae.

5^2. could gang.

6^1. To Clyde’s.

374 b, IV, 459 a. =Danish.= ‘Elveskud,’ Kristensen, Skattegraveren,

XII, 54, No 125; ‘Elvedansen,’ Folkeminder, XI, 15, No 17, =A-C=.

380, II, 506 a, III, 506 a, IV, 459 a. =TT=, ‘La chanson de Renaud,’

Pineau, Le Folk-Lore du Poitou, p. 399; =UU=, ‘La Mort de Jean Raynaud,

Wallonia, I, 22.

=VV, WW=. Versions de la Bresse, one, and a fragment, J. Tiersot, Revue

des Traditions Populaires, VII, 654 ff.

382, II, 506 a, III, 506 a. =Italian.= =N.= ‘El conte Anzolin,’

Villanis, Canzoni pop. Zaratine, Archivio, XI, 32. A burlesque form in

Canti pop. Emiliani, Maria Carmi, Archivio, XII, 186, and a Venetian

rispetto of the same character (noted by Maria Carmi) in Bernoni, Canti

pop. Veneziani, 1873, Puntata 7, p. 12, No 62.

44. The Twa Magicians.

P. 400 a, III, 506 b, IV, 459 b. =French.= =Y.= ‘Les Transformations,’

Wallonia, I, 50.

401 b, 3d paragraph. Say: Cosquin, Contes lorrains, I, 103, No 9, and

notes.

402 a, last paragraph, Gwion. See the mabinogi of Taliesin in Lady

Charlotte Guest’s Mabinogion, Part VII, p. 358 f.

45. King John and the Bishop.

P. 405 b, II, 506, IV, 459 b. Another Magyar version in Zs. f.

vergleichende Literaturgeschichte, N. F. V, 467.

46. Captain Wedderburn’s Courtship.

P. 414. Rev. J. Baring-Gould informs me that there is an Irish version

of this piece in Ulster Ballads, British Museum, 1162. k. 6, entitled

‘The Lover’s Riddle.’ The lady, who in =B=, =C= is walking through the

wood ‘her lane,’ is in the Ulster copy walking ‘down a narrow lane,’

and she meets ‘with William Dicken, a keeper of the game.’ The only

important difference as to the riddles and the answers is that the

young lady remembers her Bible to good purpose, and gives Melchisedec

as an example of a priest unborn (Hebrews vii, 3).

415, note †. Miss M. H. Mason gives two copies in her Nursery Rhymes

and Country Songs, pp. 23, 24, ‘A Paradox.’

417, note †, II, 507 b, III, 507 a, IV, 459 b. “They were told that

in front of the king’s house there were twenty-score poles, with a

head on each pole with the exception of three.” ‘The Lad with the

Skin Coverings,’ J. G. Campbell, The Fians, p. 261. (There are three

adventurers in this case.) (G. L. K.)

421. =B. h.= ‘Captian Wederburn,’ “The Old Lady’s Collection,” No 38.

=B.= =a.=

The lard of Roslie’s doughter was walking on the green,

An by came Captain Wederburn, a servant to our king,

An he said to his livery-man, Wer it no agenst our laa,

I wad take her to my ain bed an lay her neast the waa.

=a.=

‘I am in my father’s garden, walken among my father’s trees,

An ye dou latt me walk a whill nou, kind sir, if ye pleas;

For the supper-beals they will be rung an I will be mised awa,

=a.=

4^3.

An my father will ate nae supper gine I be mised awa.’

=a.=

He lighted off his hors an sett the lady one,

. . . . . . . . .

=A.= =a.=

6^{1,3}.

He sett her ahind his livery-man, was leath to latt her faa:

=A.= =a.=

5^4.

‘We’s baith lay in ae bed, an ye’s lay neast the wa.’

=B.= =a.=

Fan they came to his quarter-house, his landl[ad]y came ben:

‘Ther is mony bonny lady in Edenbrugh toun,

Bat sick a bonny lady is no in it aa;’

Says, ‘Lass, mak up a doun-bed, we will lay her nist the waa.’

=a.=

‘Hold yer toung, young man,’ she says, ‘an latt yer folly be;

I winnë come to my bed till ye gett to me things three.

. . . . . . . . .

=a.=

‘Ye gett to my supper a cherrey without a ston,

An ye gett to my suppeer a chiken without a bone,

An ye gett to my super a burd that flayes without a gaa,

Or I winnë lay in your bed, nether att stok nor waa.’

=a.=

‘The cherry when it is in the bloum, it is without a ston;

The chiken when it is in the egg is without a bon;

The dove she is a harmless burd, she flays without a gaa;

An we’s baith lay in ae bed, an ye’s lay nist the waa.’

=a.=

‘Hold off yer hands, young man,’ she says, ‘an dou not me perplex;

I winnë gae to my bed till ye tell me qustens six;

. . . . . . . . .

=a.=

‘What is greaner nor the grass? what is hig[h]er the[n] the tree?

What is war nor woman’s wish? what is deaper nor the sea?

What burd sings first? what life buds first, an what dos on it faa?

I winnë lay in your bed, nether att stok nor waa.’

=a.=

‘Death is greaner nor the grass; heaven is higher nor the tree;

The devill is war nor woman’s wish; hell is deaper nor the sea;

The coke crous first; the suderen wood springs first,

the due dos on it faa;

An we’s baith lay in ae bed, an ye’s lay neast the waa.’

=a.=

‘Hold off yer hands, young man,’ she says, ‘an yer folly gie our,

I winne come to your bed till ye gett to me things four;

. . . . . . . . .

=a.=

‘Ye gett to me a cherry that in December grou;

Leguays a fine silk mantell that waft gad never throu;

A sparrou’s horn, a prist unborn, this night to join us tua;

Or I winnë lay in your bed, nether att stok nor waa.’

=a.=

‘Ther is a hote-bed in my father’s garden wher winter chirrys grou,

Lequays a fine silk mantell in his closet which waft never gaid throu;

. . . . . . . . .

=a.=

‘Ther is a prist nou att the dore, just ready to come in,

An never one could say he was born,

For ther was a holl cut out of his mother’s side,

an out of it he did faa;

An we’s baith lay in ae bed, an ye’s lay nist the waa.’

=a.=

Littel kent the lassie in the morning fan she raise

That wad be the last of a’ her maiden days;

For nou she is marrëd to Captian Wederburn, that afore she never saa,

An they baith lay in ae bed, an she lays nest the waa.

7^4. Lays, Lass.

10^1. bloun.

12^1. grous.

49. The Twa Brothers.

P. 436 a, 3d paragraph. It ought to have been remarked that it was a

William Somerville that killed John. The names being the same as in the

ballad, “unusually gratuitous” is not warranted.

438. =A= was derived by Sharpe from Elizabeth Kerry. The original copy

was not all written at one time, but may have been written by one

person. The first and the last stanza, and some corrections, are in the

same hand as a letter which accompanied the ballad. The paper has a

watermark of 1817. A few trifling differences in the MS. may be noted:

1^1. twa.

1^2. school (_Note._ “I have heard it called the Chase”): the githar.

1^4. a far.

2^1. wrestled.

4^4. And.

5^1. brother.

6^3. both.

7^2, 8^2, 9^2. Should _for_ Gin.

8^1. what shall.

10^1. But _wanting_.

10^3. in fair Kirkland. (_Letter._ “I remembered a fair Kirk

something, and Kirkland it must have been.”)

10^4. again _wanting_.

‘Perthshire Tredgey.’ From a copy formerly in the possession of Charles

Kirkpatrick Sharpe. This fragment has some resemblances to =F.= “Copied

1823” is endorsed on the sheet (in the hand which made an insertion in

st. 11) and crossed out.

Two pretty boys lived in the North,

The went to the school so rare;

The one unto the other said,

We’ll try some battle of war.

The worselaid up, the worselaid down,

Till John lay on the ground;

A pen-knife out of William’s pocket

Gave John a deadly wound.

‘O is it for my gold?’ he said,

‘Or for my rich monie?

Or is it for my land sa broad,

That you have killed me?’

‘It’s neither for your gold,’ he said,

‘Or for your rich monie,

But it is for your land sa broad

That I have killed thee.’

‘You’ll take [me] up upon your back,

Carry me to Wastlen kirk-yard;

You’ill houk a hole large and deep,

And lay my body there.

‘You’ll put a good stone ou my head,

Another at my feet,

A good green turf upon my breast,

That the sounder I m[a]y sleep.

‘And if my father chance to ask

What’s come of your brother John,

. . . . . . .

* * * * * * *

‘What blood is this upon your coat?

I pray come tell to me;’

‘It is the blood of my grey hound,

It would not run for me.’

‘The blood of your greyhound was near so red,

I pray come tell to me;’

‘It is the blood of my black horse,

It would not hunt for me.’

‘The blood of your black horse was near so red,

I pray come tell to me;’

‘It is the blood of my brother John,

Since better canna be.’

* * * * * * *

He put his foot upon a ship,

Saying, I am gane our the sea;

‘O when will you come back again,

I pray come tell to me.’

‘When the sun and the moon passes over the broom,

That[’s] the day you’ll never see.’

* * * * *

2^1. worse laid, _misheard for_ warseled.

3^3. lands abroad _for_ land sae broad (_misheard_).

4^1. _After_ your, la _and half of an_ n, lan _caught from_ 3^3.

4^3. land abroad. _The reciter, or more probably the transcriber,

has become confirmed in the error made in 3^3._

11^3. come _inserted in a different hand_.

11^{3,4} _should probably be the first half of stanza 12._

50. The Bonny Hind.

P. 444 a. Motherwell MS., p. 485, professes to copy the ballad from

Herd’s MS. by way of supplying the stanzas wanting in Scott. There are,

however, in Motherwell’s transcript considerable deviations from Herd,

a fact which I am unable to understand.

53. Young Beichan.

P. 454. ‘Lord Beichim,’ Findlay’s MSS, I, 1, from Jeanie Meldrum,

Framedrum, Forfarshire, has these verses, found in =G= and in Spanish

and Italian ballads.

(“She meets a shepherd and addresses him.”)

‘Whas are a’thae flocks o sheep?

And whas are a’thae droves o kye?

And whas are a’thae statelie mansions,

That are in the way that I passd bye?’

‘O these are a’Lord Beichim’s sheep,

And these are a’Lord Beichim’s kye,

And these are a’Lord Beichim’s castles,

That are in the way that ye passd bye.’

There are three or four stanzas more, but they resemble the English

vulgar broadsides. There must have been a printed copy in circulation

in Scotland which has not been recovered.

468. =D= is now given as it stands in “The Old Lady’s Collection,” from

which it was copied by Skene: ‘Young Beachen,’ No. 14.

Young Beachen as born in fair London,

An foiren lands he langed to see,

An he was tean by the savage Mour,

An they used him mast cruely.

Throu his shoulder they patt a bore,

An throu the bore they patt a tree,

An they made him tralle ther ousen-carts,

An they used him most cruelly.

The savige More had ae doughter,

I wat her name was Susan Pay,

An she is to the prison-house

To hear the prisenor’s mone.

He made na his mone to a stok,

He made it no to a ston,

But it was to the Quin of Heaven,

That he made his mone.

‘Gine a lady wad borrou me,

Att her foot I wad rune,

An a widdou wad borrou me,

I wad becom her sone.

‘Bat an a maid wad borrou me,

I wad wed her we a ring,

I wad make her lady of haas an bours,

An of the high tours of Line.’

‘Sing our yer sang, Young Bichen,’ she says,

‘Sing our yer sang to me;’

‘I never sang that sang, lady,

Bat fat I wad sing to ye.

‘An a lady wad borrou me,

Att her foot I wad rune,

An a widdou wad borrou me,

I wad becom her son.

‘Bat an a maid wad borrou me,

I wad wed her we a ring,

I wad mak her lady of haas an bours,

An of the high tours of Line.’

Saftly gaid she but,

An saftly gaid she ben;

It was na for want of hose nor shone,

Nor time to pit them on.

. . . . . . . .

An she has stoun the kees of the prison,

An latten Young Beachen gang.

She gae him a lofe of her whit bread,

An a bottel of her wine,

She bad him mind on the leady’s love

That fread him out of pine.

She gae him a stead was gued in time of nead,

A sadle of the bone,

Five hundred poun in his poket,

Bad him gae speading home.

An a lish of gued gray honds,

. . . . . . .

Fan seven lang year wer come an gane,

Shusie Pay thought lang,

An she is on to fair London,

As fast as she could gang.

Fan she came to Young Beachen’s gate,

. . . . . . . .

‘Is Young Beachen att home,

Or is he in this country?’

‘He is att home,

[H]is bearly bride him we;’

Sighan says her Susë Pay,

‘Was he quit forgoten me?’

On every finger she had a ring,

An on the middel finger three;

She gave the porter on of them,

‘Gett a word of your lord to me.’

He gaed up the stare,

Fell lau doun on his knee:

‘Win up, my proud porter,

What is your will we [me]?’

‘I ha ben porter att your gate

This therty year an three;

The fairest lady is att yer gate

Mine eays did ever see.’

Out spak the brid’s mother,

An a haghty woman was she;

‘If ye had not excepted the bonny brid,

Ye might well ha excepted me.’

‘No desparegment to you, madam,

Nor non to her grace;

The sol of yon lady’s foot

Is fairer then yer face.’

He’s geen the table we his foot,

An caped it we his knee:

‘I wad my head an a’my land

It’s Susie Pay come over the sea.’

The stare was therty steps,

I wat he made them three;

He toke her in his arms tua,

‘Susie Pay, y’er welcom to me!’

‘Gie me a shive of your whit bread,

An a bottel of your wine;

Dinner ye mind on the lady’s love

That freed ye out of pine?’

He took her

Doun to yon garden green,

An changed her name fra Shusie Pay,

An called her bonny Lady Jean.

‘Yer daughter came hear on high hors-back,

She sall gae hame in coaches three,

An I sall dubel her tocher our,

She is nean the war of me.’

‘It’s na the fashon of our country,

Nor yet of our name,

To wed a may in the morning

An send her hame att none.’

‘It’s na the fashon of my country,

Nor of my name,

Bat I man mind on the lady’s love

That freed me out of pine.’

* * * * *

5^2. I att her foot I: _cf._ 8^2.

9^3. tours: _cf._ 6^3.

13^4. spending.

17^3. Sigh an.

18^2. niddel.

_After_ 29:

Courtes kind an generse mind,

An winne ye ansur me?

An fan they hard ther lady’s word,

Well ansuared was she.

P. 476, II, 508. =L.= For the modern vulgar ballad, Catnach’s is a

better copy than that of Pitts. See Kidson, Traditional Tunes, p. 34,

for Catnach.

VOL. II.

54. The Cherry-Tree Carol.

P. 1 b. (Apple tree.) Chanson de la Corrèze, Mélusine, VI, 40.

55. The Carnal and the Crane.

P. 7. The Sower: La Tradition, VII, 312.

56. Dives and Lazarus.

P. 10 b, IV, 462 b. ‘Lazare et le mauvais riche,’ L’Abbé Durdy,

Anthologie pop. de l’Albret, Poésies gasconnes, p. 6.

Esthonian, Hurt, Vana Kannel, II, 210, No 296.

57. Brown Robyn’s Confession.

P. 13 b, IV, 463 a. =Danish.= ‘Sejladsen,’ Kristensen, Efterslæt til

Skattegraveren, p. 22, No 18, p. 161 ff., Nos 116, 117; Folkeminder,

XI, 148, No 57.

15 b. For Sadko, see Vesselofsky in Archiv für slavische Philologie,

IX, 282.

58. Sir Patrick Spens.

P. 17. Among Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe’s papers there is a copy of

this ballad, which, from its being entirely in Sharpe’s hand excepting

the first line, we may suppose to have been intended as a reply to some

person who had inquired for a ballad so beginning. This copy is mainly

compounded, with a word altered here and there, from =D= (which Sharpe

gave Motherwell), ten stanzas of =H=, and two resembling =L= 2, 3. The

Sir Andrew Wood of =D= is changed to Sir Patrick Spens, and there is

this one stanza which I have not observed to occur elsewhere, following

=D= 7, or =H= 21:

O laith, laith war our gude Scots lords

To weet their silken sarks,

But lang or a’ the play was playd

The weet gade to their hearts.

62. Fair Annie.

P. 65 a. =Danish.= ‘Skjön Anna,’ Kristensen, Folkeminder, XI, 91, No 92.

63. Child Waters.

P. 83. ‘Fair Ellen,’ from “The Old Lady’s Collection,” No 30, a version

resembling =J.= The first two stanzas belong to ‘Glasgerion;’ compare

No 67, =C=, 1, 2, II, 140.

Willie was a harper guid,

He was a harper fine;

He harped the burds out of the tree,

The fish out of the flood,

The milk out of a woman’s brist

That bab had never nean.

He harped out, an he harped in,

Till he harped them a’ aslep,

Unless it was her Fair Elen,

An she stood on her feett.

Willie stod in stabile dor,

He said he wad ride,

. . . . . .

‘Na women mane gae we me, Hellen,

Na women mane gaie we me

Bat them that will saddle my hors,

An bridell my steed,

An elky toun that I come to

A lish of hons mane lead.’

‘I will saddle yer hors, Willie,

An I will bridel yer steed,

An elky toun att we come tell

A leash of honds will lead.’

‘The dogs sall eat the gued fite bread,

An ye the douë pran,

An ye sall bliss, an na curse,

That ever ye lied a man.’

‘The dogs sall eat the whit bread,

An me the douë pran,

An I will bliss, an na curs,

That ear I loved a man.’

She has saddled his hors,

An she has bridled his stead,

An ealky toun att they came throu

A lish of honds did lead.

The dogs did eatt the whit bread,

An her the douey pran,

An she did bliss, an she did na curs,

That ever she loyed a man.

Fan they came to yon wan water

That a’ man caas Clayd,

He louked over his left shoder,

Says, Ellen, will ye ride?

‘I learned it in my medder’s bour,

I wiss I had learned it better,

Fan I came to wane water

To sume as dos the otter.

‘I learned in my midder’s bour,

I watt I learned it well,

Fan I came to wan water,

To sume as dos the ell.’

. . . . . . . .

Or the knight was in the middell of the water,

The lady was in the eather side.

She leaned her back to a stane,

Gaa a call opon:

‘O my back is right sore,

An I sae farr frae hame!

‘Hou monny mill ha ye to rid,

An hou mony I to rine?’

‘Fifty mill ha I to rid,

Fifty you to rine,

An by that time I dou supos

Ye will be a dead woman.’

Out spak a bonny burd,

Sate on yon tree,

‘Gaa on, fair Ellen,

Ye ha scarcly milles three.’

Four-an-tuenty bony ladys

Mett Willie in the closs,

Bat the fairest lady among them a’

Took Willie frae his horse.

Four-an-tuenty bonny ladys

Lead Willie to the table,

Bat the fairest lady among them a’

Led his hors to the stable.

She leaned betuen the gray folle an the waa,

An gae a call opon;

‘O my back is fue sore,

An I sae far fra home!

‘Fan I was in my father’s bour,

I ware goud to my hell;

Bat nou I am among Willie’s hors feet,

An the call it will me kell.

‘Fan I was in my midder’s bour

I wear goud to my head;

Bat nou I am among Willie’s hors feet,

And the calle will be my dead.’

‘Fatten a heavey horse-boy, my son Willie,

Is this ye ha brought to me?

Some times he grous read, read,

An some times paill an wane;

He louks just leak a woman we bairn,

An no weis es leak a man.’

‘Gett up, my heavey hors-boy,

Gie my hors corn an hay;’

‘By my soth,’ says her Fair Ellen,

‘Bat as fast as I may.’

‘I dreamed a dream san the straine,

Gued read a’ dreams to gued!

I dreamed my stable-dor was opned

An stoun was my best steed.

Ye gae, my sister,

An see if the dream be gued.’

. . . . . . .

She thought she hard a baby greet,

Bat an a lady mone.

. . . . . . .

‘I think I hard a baby greet,

Bat an a lady mone.’

‘A askend, Willie,’ she says,

‘An ye man grant it me;

The warst room in a’ yer house

To your young son an me.’

[‘Ask on, Fair Ellen,

Ye’r sure yer asken is free;]

The best room in a’ my house

To yer young son an ye.’

‘[A] asken, Willie,’ she sayes,

‘An ye will grant it me;

The smallest bear in yer house

To [yer] young son an me.’

‘Ask on, Fair Ellen,

Ye’r sure your asken is free;

The best bear in my house

[To yer young son an ye.]

‘The best bear in my house

Is the black bear an the wine,

An y_e_ sall haa that, Fair Ellen,

To you an yer young son.’

‘[A] askent, Willie,’ she says,

‘An ye will grant [it] me;

The warst maid in yer house

To wait on yer young son an me.’

‘The best maid in my house

Is my sister Meggie,

An ye sall ha her, Fair Ellen,

To wait on yer young son an ye.

‘Chire up, Fair Ellen,

Chire up, gin ye may;

Yer kirking an yer fair weding

Sail baith stand in ae day.’

* * * * *

1^6. bab have.

3^2. bide. _Cf._ =B= 3, =G= 1, =I= 1, =J= 1.

20^3. I an.

20^4. me gell.

21^2. my hell _again_.

21^4. And an.

30^2. sure yours.

64. Fair Janet.

P. 102. (See III, 497 b, No 5.) Add: ‘La Fiancée du Prince,’ Revue des

Traditions Populaires, VIII, 406-409, two versions.

65. Lady Maisry.

P. 114. =A.= The variations in the Abbotsford MS. “Scottish Songs” are

of the very slightest value; but as the MS. is in Scott’s hand, and as

Scott says that they were from his recollection of recitation in the

south of Scotland, they may be given for what they are worth. (See the

note, IV, 387.)

‘Lady Maiserye,’ fol. 34, back.

1^2. Are a’.

1^4. she’ll hae.

2, 3, _wanting_.

4^{1,2}.

They woo’d her up, they woo’d her doun,

They woo’d her in the ha.

5^1. my lords, she said.

5^2. on me.

5^4. And I have na mair to gie.

6^1. father’s wily page.

6^3. For he has awa to her bauld brother.

7^1. O are my father and mother.

7^2. brethren.

8^1. are weel.

8^2. Likewise your brethren.

8^4. But she’s shamed thy name and thee.

9^1. true, thou little page.

9^2. A bluidy sight thou’s see.

9^3. thou tells.

9^4. High hanged sall thou be.

10^1. O he has gane to.

10^4. Kaming.

11. _A stanza with_ “modern” _in the margin_.

12^1. The lady turnd her round about.

12^2. The kame fell.

12^{3,4}.

The bluid ran backward to her heart

And left her cheek sae wan.

13.

‘O bend nae sae, my dear brother,

Your vengefu look on me!

My love is laid on Lord William,

And he is married to me.’

14^1. ye hae gotten knights and lords.

14^2. Within.

14^3. drew.

15^1. your English love.

15^3. For shouldst think of him an hour langer.

15^4. Thy.

16^1. I wad gie up my English love.

16^3. or an hour.

_After 16 this stanza, not marked_ “modern:”

‘Ah, faithless woman, trow nae sae

My just revenge to flee,

For a’ your English lordling’s power,

Our ancient enemy.’

17^1. where are a’ my wight.

17^4. this strumpet.

18^2. at my.

19^1. and spake.

19^2. Stude weeping by her side.

19^3. wad rin this.

20. _wanting._

21^1, 22^1. And when.

21^3. to grass growing.

22^{1,5}. yate.

22^2. bade na chap nor.

22^3. to his.

22^5. And er.

23^1. O are.

23^2. Or are.

23^3. Or has my lady gien to me.

23^4. A dear: or a.

24^1. biggins are na broken, lord.

24^2. Nor yet.

24^3. a’ Scotlande.

24^4. This day for you.

25^1. to me the black horse.

25^2. O saddle to me.

25^3. Or saddle to me.

25^4. ere yet rode.

26^2. neeze.

26^3. your fire, my fierce.

26^4. no yet at.

27^1. And when: yate.

28^{1,2}.

And still, Mend up the fire, she cried,

And pour its rage round me.

28^4. will mend it soon for.

29^1. O had my hands.

29^2. Sae fast.

29^4. To save thy infant son.

30^{1,3}. for thee.

30^2. Thy sister and thy brother.

30^4. Thy father and thy mother.

31^1. for thee.

31^2. a’ thy.

31^3. that I make.

31^4. I sall.

115. =B.= Variations of C. K. Sharpe’s own MS. (“second collection”):

2^4. on my (_wrongly_).

4^4. It’s liars.

8^2. That’s what I’ll.

10^2. brother.

13^3. But when.

20^1, 21^1, 22^1. rode on.

22^4. Janet’s excit (_Motherwell_, exite).

24^1. said.

27^4. mony one.

66. Lord Ingram and Chiel Wyet.

P. 128. =A.= Collated with Sharpe’s MS., p. 17. The MS., which is in

the handwriting of Sharpe, contains the same ballads as an Abbotsford

MS. called North Country Ballads, but the two copies are independent

transcripts. In a note to Sharpe, without date (Sharpe’s Ballad Book,

ed. 1880, p. 148), Scott says, “I enclose Irvine’s manuscripts,

which are, I think, curious. They are at your service for copying or

publishing, or whatever you will.” Hugh Irvine, Drum, communicated

to Scott a copy of ‘Tam Lin’ (see IV, 456), and it is possible that

the manuscripts referred to in Scott’s note were the originals of the

“North Country Ballads.”

1^4. their bonneur.

8^2. to kill.

11^1. boy says.

11^2. An will.

14^{1,3}. line that he.

15^1. (bacon).

16^4. she _wanting_.

18^{2,4}. garl, marl, _are Sharpe’s corrections for words struck out,

which seem to be_ guell, meal.

19^1. and that.

21^2. saft.

23^1. twice, so did I.

26^1. did stand.

31^4. he _wanting_.

_Only_ 14^{1,3}, 16^4, 23^1, 31^4, _are wrongly given in

Motherwell_.

Scott’s MS.--_The name_ Maisery _is wanting throughout_.

23^3. only _for_ one.

28. _wanting._

30^3. had.

31^2. beg _wrongly copied_ by.

68. Young Hunting.

P. 145. =A= 22. Findlay’s MSS, I, 146, gives a corresponding stanza,

from Miss Butchart, Arbroath:

‘Ye’ll gie ower your day’s doukin

An douk upon the nicht,

An the place Young Redin he lies in

The torches will brin bricht.’

148. =C= 21, 22. At the same place in Findlay’s MSS we find these

stanzas, from Miss Bower:

The firsten grasp that she got o him,

It was o his yellow hair;

O wasna that a dowie grasp,

For her that did him bear!

The nexten grasp that she got o him,

It was o his lillie hand;

O was na that a dowie grasp,

For her brocht him to land!

69. Clerk Saunders.

P. 156 b, 2d paragraph. Austerities. ‘Mijn haer sel onghevlochten

staen,’ etc. ‘Brennenberg,’ Hoffmann, Niederländische Volkslieder, p.

33, No 6, st. 17.

IV, 468 a, 3d line. Add: also four versions of Karl Hittebarn, No 294.

71. The Bent sae Brown.

P. 170. =Danish.= ‘Jomfruens Brødre,’ Kristensen, Skattegraveren, II,

145 ff., Nos 717-23 V, 81 ff., Nos 632-34; Efterslæt til Sk., p. 15, No

13, p. 84, No 79, ‘Den ulige Kamp;’ Folkeminder, XI, 139, No 53, A-C,

p. 307, No 53.

73. Lord Thomas and Fair Annet.

P. 181, III, 510 b, IV, 469 a. Add another version of ‘Le Rossignolet,’

Rev. des Trad. pop., VIII, 418.

192. =G= as it stands in “The Old Lady’s Collection,” No 24.

Suit Willie an Fair Annë,

They satt on yon hill,

An fra the morning till night this tua

Never ta’ked ther fill.

Willie spak a word in jeast,

An Anny toke it ill:

‘We’s court ne mare mean madens,

Agenst our parents’ will.’

‘It’s na agenst our parents’ will,’

Fair Annie she did say;

. . . . . . .

Willie is hame to his bour,

To his book alean,

An Fair Anni is to her bour,

To her book an her seam.

Suit Willie is to his mider dear,

Fell lou doun on his knee:

‘A asking, my mider dear,

An ye grant it me;

O will I marry the nut-broun may,

An latt Faire Anny be?’

‘The nut-broun may has ousen, Willie,

The nut-broun may has kay;

An ye will wine my blissing, Willie,

An latt Fair Anny be.’

He did him to his father dear,

Fell lou doun on his knee:

‘A asken, my father,

An ye man grant it me.’

‘Ask on, my ae sin Willie,

Ye’r sear yer asking is frea;

Except it be to marry her Fair Anny,

An that ye manna deei.’

Out spak his littel sister,

As she sat by the fire;

The oxe-lig will brak in the plough,

An the cou will droun in the mire.

‘An Willie will hae nathing

Bat the dam to sitt by the fire,

An Faire Annie will sit in her beagly bour,

An wine a eearl’s hire.’

‘Fair faa ye, my littel sister,

A gued dead matt ye dee!

An ever I hae goud,

Well touchered sall ye be.’

Hi’se away to Fair Annie,

As fast as gang coud he:

‘O will ye come to my marrag?

The morn it’s to be.’

‘O I will come to yer marrag the morn,

Gin I can wine,’ said she.

Annie did her to her father d[ea]r,

Fell lou doun on her knee:

‘An askin, my father,

An ye mane grant it me;

Latt me to Suit Willie’s marrage,

The morn it is to be.’

‘Your hors sall be siler-shod afor,

An guid read goud ahind,

An bells in his main,

To ring agenst the wind.’

She did her to her mother dear,

Fell lou on her knee:

‘Will ye latt me to Willie’s marrage?

To-morraa it is to be.’

‘I ill latt ye to Willie’s marrage,

To-morray it is to be.’

Fan Annë was in her sadel sett,

She flamd agenst the fire;

The girdell about her sma middell

Wad a wone a eearl’s hire.

Fan they came to Mary kirk,

An on to Mary quir,

‘O far gat ye that water, Annë,

That washes ye sae clean?’

‘I gat it in my fa(t)hers garden,

Aneth a marbell stane.’

‘O fare gatt ye that water, Annë,

That washes ye sae fett?’

‘I gat it in my mider’s womb,

Far ye never gat the leak.

‘For ye ha ben cirsned we mose-water,

An roked in the reak,

An sin-brunt in yer midder’s womb,

For I think ye’ll never be faitt.’

The broun bride pat her hand in

Att Annë’s left gare,

An gen her. .. .. .. .

A deap wound an a sare.

O Annë gid on her hors back,

An fast away did ride,

Batt lang or kok’s crawang

Fair Annë was dead.

Fan bells was rung, an messe was sung,

An a’ man boun to bed,

Suit Willie an the nut-broun bride

In a chamber was lead.

But up an wakned him Suit Willie,

Out of his dreary dream:

‘I dreamed a dream this night,

God read a’ dreams to gued!

‘That Fair Annë’s bour was full of gentelmen,

An her nen sellf was dead;

Bat I will on to Fair Annie,

An see if it be gued.’

Seven lang mille or he came near,

He hard a dulfull chear,

Her father an her seven bretheren

Making to her a bear,

The half of it guid read goud,

The eather silver clear.

‘Ye berl att my love’s leak

The whit bread an the wine,

Bat or the morn att this time

Ye’s de the leak att mine.’

The tean was beared att Mary kirk,

The eather att Mary quir;

Out of the an grue a birk,

Out of the eather a brear.

An ay the langer att they grue

They came the eather near,

An by that ye might a well kent

They war tua lovers dear.

* * * * *

4^2. _There may have been a word between_ book _and_ alean.

5^6. bay: _cf._ 6^4.

16^2. flamd _is doubtful_.

21^4. farie.

23^3. might.

74. Fair Margaret and Sweet William.

P. 199. The Roxburghe copy, III, 338, Ebsworth, VI, 640, is a late one,

of Aldermary Church-Yard.

200 b. =A c= is translated by Pröhle, G. A. Bürger, Sein Leben u.

seine Dichtungen, p. 109.

75. Lord Lovel.

P. 204 f., note †, 512 b, IV 471 a. Add ‘Der Graf und das Mädchen,’

Böckel, Deutsche V.-l. aus Oberhessen, p. 5, No 6; ‘Es schlief ein Graf

bei seiner Magd,’ Lewalter, Deutsche V.-l. in Niederhessen gesammelt,

2^3 Heft, p. 3, No 2: ‘Der Graf und sein Liebchen,’ Frischbier u.

Sembrzycki, Hundert Ostpreussische Volkslieder, p. 34, No 21.

205 a, note, III, 510 b, IV, 471 b. =Scandinavian=, Other copies

of ‘Lille Lise,’ ‘Greven og lille Lise,’ Kristensen, Efterslæt til

Skattegraveren, p. 18, No 15, Folkeminder, XI, 159, No 62, A-D.

205. ‘Den elskedes Død,’ Berggreen, Danske Folkesange, 3d ed., p. 162,

No 80 b; Svenske Fs., 2d ed., p. 84, No 66 b.

The ballad exists in Esthonian: Kaarle Krohn, Die geographische

Verbreitung estnischer Lieder, p. 23.

76. The Lass of Roch Royal.

P. 213. =B= was received by Herd, with several other ballads, “by post,

from a lady in Ayrshire (?), name unknown:” Herd’s MSS, I, 143.

215 b, 2d paragraph, tokens. Add: Ζωγραφεῖος Ἀγών, p. 90, No 67, p. 91,

No 69, p. 95, No 81.

The lady demands love-tokens of Clerk Saunders’ ghost, No 69, =G=, 33,

II, 166.

219. =C= occurs in C. K. Sharpe’s small MS. volume “Songs,” p. 40, and

must have been communicated to Sharpe by Pitcairn. Collation:

2. It’s open, etc.: _not written in full_.

3^3, 4^3. Ruchley hill.

5^3. give me.

6. Do not you mind, etc.: _not written in full_.

7 _wanting._

8^1. turned round.

10^1. It’s awa.

10^3. have got the.

13^1. that he.

14^1. Let down, let down.

14^3. late _wanting_.

15^3. morrow.

15^4. of mine.

16, 17, _wanting._

77. Sweet William’s Ghost.

P. 228, note †. Add: Zingerle, in Zeitschrift für Volkskunde, II, 147.

229. =C= is translated by Pröhle, G. A. Bürger, Sein Leben u. seine

Dichtungen, p. 106.

78. The Unquiet Grave.

P. 236 b, last paragraph. See the preface to ‘The Suffolk Miracle’ in

this volume, p. 58 ff.

This “fragment,” in a small MS. volume entirely in C. K. Sharpe’s

handwriting (“Songs”), p. 21, “from the recitation of Miss Oliphant of

Gask, now Mrs Nairn” (later Lady Nairne), evidently belongs here.

O wet and weary is the night,

And evendown pours the rain, O,

And he that was sae true to me

Lies in the greenwood slain, O. P. 21.

80. Old Robin of Portingale.

P. 240. ‘Sleep you, wake you.’ So, ‘Soldatenlohn,’ Zeitschrift für

Volkskunde, II, 426, sts. 6, 7; Hruschka u. Toischer, Deutsche

Volkslieder aus Böhmen, p. 183, No 147 a, 4^5, b 3^5, p. 195, No

171, 2^1, No 172, 4.

240, 513 a, III, 514, IV, 476. Two religious persons from India display

to the Pope a cross burned on the breast in token of Christian faith,

and also a baptismal mark on the right ear, “non flumine sed flamine:”

Chronicon Adae de Usk ad ann. 1404, ed. E. M. Thompson, p. 90. See also

the reference to York’s Marco Polo, 1875, II, 421, in Mr Thompson’s

note, p. 219. (G. L. K.)

81. Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard.

P. 242. ‘Little Musgrave’ is entered to Francis Coules in the

Stationers’ Registers, 24 June, 1630: Arber, IV, 236.

85. Lady Alice.

P. 279.

Miss M. H. Mason’s Nursery Rhymes and Country Songs, p. 46, ‘Giles

Collin.’

Giles Collin he said to his mother one day,

Oh, mother, come bind up my head!

For tomorrow morning before it is day

I’m sure I shall be dead.

‘Oh, mother, oh, mother, if I should die,

And I am sure I shall,

I will not be buried in our churchyard,

But under Lady Alice’s wall.’

His mother she made him some water-gruel,

And stirred it up with a spoon;

Giles Collin he ate but one spoonful,

And died before it was noon.

Lady Alice was sitting in her window,

All dressed in her night-coif;

She saw as pretty a corpse go by

As ever she’d seen in her life.

‘What bear ye there, ye six tall men?

What bear ye on your shourn?’

‘We bear the body of Giles Collin,

Who was a true lover of yourn.’

‘Down with him, down with him, upon the grass,

The grass that grows so green;

For tomorrow morning before it is day

My body shall lie by him.’

Her mother she made her some plum-gruel,

With spices all of the best;

Lady Alice she ate but one spoonful,

And the doctor he ate up the rest.

Giles Collin was laid in the lower chancel,

Lady Alice all in the higher;

There grew up a rose from Lady Alice’s breast,

And from Giles Collin’s a briar.

And they grew, and they grew, to the very church-top,

Until they could grow no higher,

And twisted and twined in a true-lover’s knot,

Which made all the parish admire.

90. Jellon Grame.

P. 303 b, 513 b, III, 515 b, IV, 479 b. Precocious growth.

The French romance of Alexander. Albéric de Besançon: Alexander had

more strength when three days old than other children of four months;

he walked and ran better from his first year than any other child from

its seventh. (The same, nearly, in Lamprecht, vv. 142-4: he throve

better in three days than any other child of three months; 178-80,

in his first year his strength and body waxed more than another’s in

three.) MS. de l’Arsenal: the child grew in vitality and knowledge more

in seven years than others do in a hundred. MS. de Venise: he grew

more in body and knowledge in eight years than others in a hundred. P.

Meyer, Alexandre le Grand, I, 5, v. 56 f., 6, v. 74 f., 27, v. 39 f.,

240, v. 53 f. ‘Plus sot en x jors que i. autres en c:’ Michelant, p. 8,

v. 20. A similar precocity is recorded of the Chinese Emperor Schimong:

Gützlaff, Geschichte der Chinesen, hrsgg. v. Neumann, S. 19, cited by

Weismann, Lamprecht’s Alexander, I, 432.

In the romance of Mélusine it is related how, after her disappearance

in serpent-form, she was seen by the nurses to return at night and care

for her two infant sons, who, according to the earliest version, the

prose of Jehan d’Arras, grew more in a week than other children in a

month: ed. Brunet, 1854, p. 361. The same in the French romance, l.

4347 f., the English metrical version, l. 4035-37, and in the German

Volksbuch. (H. L. Koopman.)

Tom Hickathrift “was in length, when he was but ten years of age, about

eight foot, and in thickness five foot, and his hand was like unto a

shoulder of mutton, and in all parts from top to toe he was like a

monster.” The History of Thomas Hickathrift, ed. by G. L. Gomme, Villon

Society, 1885, p. 2. (G. L. K.)

305. =B.= The following, a variety of =B=, is from the papers of

Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, “second collection,” p. 6.

Word has come to May Young Ro,

In her bower where she sat,

‘You’r bidden come to good green wood

And sew your love a shirt.’

‘I wonder much,’ said May Young Roe,

‘Such word is come to me;

Ther’s not a month throwout this year

But I have sewed him three.’

Then out it spake her mother,

And a wise word spoke she;

Said, Stay at home, my daughter,

They want to murder thee.

‘I will cast off my gloves, mother,

And hing them on a pin;

If I come never back again,

You’l mind on your daugh[t]er young.

‘Come here, my boy,’ she cried,

‘And bring my horse to me,

That I may ride to good green wood,

The flowers in it to see.’

When she was got to good green wood,

No further did she ride

Till up did start him Hind Henry,

Just at the ladie’s side.

‘O stop, O stop there, May,’ he cried,

‘O stop, I say to thee;

The boy who holds your bridle-reins

Shall see your body wea.’

Then out he drew a large long brand,

And struck it ower a str[ow],

And throw and throw that ladie’s side

He made the cold steel go.

Said, Take you that now, May Young Roe,

Just take you that from me,

Because you loved Brown Robin,

And never would love me.

The boy was in a dreadful fright,

And in great haste rode home,

Lamenting sadly all the way,

And made a piteous moan.

And when her mother heard his tale

She took the bed of care;

Her sister ran to good green wood,

A tearing of her hair.

There was small pity for that lady,

Where she was lying dead,

Compared with for the pretty babe,

Weltring among the blood.

‘I will take up this babe,’ she said,

‘And lull him on my sleeve;

Altho his father should wish me woe,

His mother was to me live.’

Now she has taken the boy up,

And she has brought him hame,

And she has called him Brown Robin,

It was his father’s name.

And she has nursed him carefuly,

And put him to the school,

And any who affronted him

He soon did make cry dule.

And it fell ance upon a time

It was a haly day,

And all the boys at that school

On it they got the play.

He hied him unto good green wood,

And leap from tree to tree,

And there did pull some hollin wands,

To play his own self we.

And aft he looked on a spot,

And at it marvelled sair,

That all the wood was clad with leaves,

And that one spot was bare.

And he said unto Hind Henry,

‘I wonder very sair

That all the wood is clad with leaves,

And this one spot is bare.’

‘You need not wonder, boy,’ he said,

‘You need not wonder none,

For it is just the very spot

I killed your mother on.’

The boy’s pulled out his daggar then,

And struck it ower a strow,

And even to Hind Henry’s heart

He made the cold steel go.

Says, Take you that, you vile Henry,

Just take you that from me,

For killing of my mother dear,

And she not harming thee.

91. Fair Mary of Wallington.

P. 314, IV, 480 a. =D.= 10^3 in Kinloch MSS, V, 363, reads, I

hear this babe now from her side; but in Mr Macmath’s transcript of

Burton’s MS., No 2, I bear ... my side.

316. ‘The Lady of Livenston,’ from “The Old Lady’s Collection,” No 32.

‘We was sisters, we was seven,

Five of us dayed we child,

An you an me, Burd Ellen,

Sall live maidens mild.’

Ther came leards, an ther came lords,

An knights of high degree,

A’courting Lady Messry,

Bat it widne deei.

Bat the bonny lord of Livenston,

He was flour of them a’,

The bonny lord of Livenston,

He stole the lady awaa.

Broad was the horses hoves

That dumped the water of Clide,

An a’ was for honor of that gay lady

That day she was Livenston’s bride.

Fan she came to Livenston

Mukell mirth was ther;

The knights knaked ther whit fingers

The ladys curled ther hear.

She had no ben in Livenston

A tuall-month an a day,

Till she was as big we bearn

As a lady coud gaa.

She had ne ben in Livenston

A tuall-month an a hour,

Till for the morning of the may

The couldne ane come near her bour.

‘Far will I gett a bonny boy

That will rean my earend shoun,

That will goo to leve London,

To my mother, the quin?’

‘Hear am I, a bonny boy

Will rin yer earend sune,

That will rin on to fair London,

To yer mother, the quin.’

‘Hear is the bruch fra my breast-bane,

The garlands fra my hear;

Ye ge that to my mider,

Fra me she’ll never gett mare.

‘Hear is the rosses fra my shoun,

The ribbons fra my hear;

Ye gee that to my mider,

Fra me she’ll never gett mare.

‘Hear is my briddel-stand,

It is a’ goud to the heam;

Ye gie that to Burd Ellen,

Forbed her to marry men.

‘Ye bid them and ye pray them bath,

If they will dou it for my sake,

If they be not att my death,

To be att my leak-wake.

‘Ye bid them and ye pray them baith,

If they will dou it for my name,

If they be not att my leak-wake,

To be att my birrien.’

Fan he came to grass grouen,

He strated his bou an rane,

An fan he came to brigs broken

He slaked his bou an swam.

An fan he came to yon castell,

He bad nether to chap nor caa,

But sait his bent bou to his breast

An lightly lap the waa;

Or the porter was att the gate,

The boy was in the haa.

‘Mukell meatt is on yer table, lady,

An littil of it is eaten,

Bat the bonny lady of Livenston

Ye have her clean forgotten.’

‘Ye lie, ye lie, ye bonny boy,

Sae loud as I hear ye lie;

Mukell ha I sold the [meatt],

An littel hae I bought,

Batt the bonny lady of Livenston

Gaas never out of my thought.

‘Mukell have I bought, bonny boy,

An littel haa I sale,

Bat the bonny lady of Livenston

She couls my heart fue cale.’

‘Hear is the ribbings fra her hear,

The roses fra her shoun;

I was bidden gie that to her midder,

To her midder, the quin.

‘Hear is the bruch fra her breast-bean,

The garlands frae her hear;

I was bidden gee that to her mother,

Fra her she’ll never gett mare.

‘Hear is her bridell-stand,

The’r a’ goud to the heam;

I was bidden ga that to Burd Ellen,

Forbid her to marry man.

‘She bids ye an she prays ye bath,

Gin yee’ll di et for her sake,

If ye be not att her death,

To be att her leak-wake.

‘She bidds yee an she prays ye bath,

Gine ye’ll dou et for her name,

If ye be not att her leak-wake,

To be at her burrien.’

‘Garr saddell to me the blak,

Saddle to me the broun,

Gar saddel to me the suiftest stead

That ever read fraa a toun,

Till I gaa to Livenston

An see hou Measry fairs.’

The first stead was saddled to her,

It was the bonny black;

She spured him aftt and she spared him na,

An she tayened him at a slap.

The neast stead that was saddled to her

Was the berrey-broun;

She spured him aftt an she spared him not,

An she tayned him att a toun.

The neast an steed that was saddled to her,

It was the milk-white:

‘Fair faa the mear that folled the foll

Had me to Meassry’s leak!’

Fan she came to Livenston,

Mukel dolle was ther;

The knights wrang ther whit fingers,

The ladys tore ther hear.

The knights they wrang ther whit fingers,

The rings they flue in four:

‘Latt haas an tours an a’ doun fan!

My dear thing has gine it our.’

Out spak him Livenston,

An a sorry man was he;

‘I had rader lost the lands of Livenston,

Afor my gay lady.’

‘Had yer toung nou, Livenston,

An latt yer folly be;

I bare the burd in my bosom,

I man thole to see her diee.’

Fan she came to her doughter’s boure,

Ther was littel pride;

The scoups was in her doughter’s mouth,

An the sharp shirrs in her side.

Out spake her Burd Ellen,

An she spake ay threu pride;

The wife sall never bear the sin

Sall lay doun by my side.

‘Had your toung nou, Burd Ellen,

Ye latt yer folly a be;

Dinnë ye mind that ye promised yer love

To him that is ayond the seaa?’

‘Hold yer toung, my mother,

Ye speak just leak a fooll;

Tho I wer marred att Martimes,

I wad be dead or Yeull.’

‘I have five bonny oyes att heam,

Ther was never ane of them born,

Bat every are of them

Out of ther midder’s sides shorn.’

* * * * *

5^2. The knights knaked ther whit fingers _is certainly an

anticipation_. _This is always done for anguish: see_ 29^{3,4},

30^{1,2}.

7^{3,4}. Till ther couldne ane come near her bour For the morning of

they may. _Perhaps_ moaning.

16^2. he had.

18^3. _Perhaps_ the meat.

19^{2,4}. sale, cale (_for_ sold, cold).

22^2. hean.

22^3. bidden ga.

35^3. Didde.

92. Bonny Bee Horn.

P. 317. ‘The Lowlands of Holland.’ In ‘The Sorrowful Lover’s Regrate,

or, The Low-Lands of Holland,’ British Museum 1346. m. 7(40), dated

May the 5th, 1776, a threnody in eleven double stanzas. 1, 2 of the

copy in Johnson’s Museum are 1, 2; Johnson, 3==7, 4==4, 5==6, 6==3,

and the stanza added by Stenhouse is 9 (with verbal divergences). ‘The

Maid’s Lamentation for the loss of her true love,’ Museum 11621. c.

3(39), “Newcastle, 1768?,” the fifth piece in The Complaining Lover’s

Garland, has five stanzas: 1 corresponding to 2 of Johnson, 2 to 5, 5

to 6, 3 to 5 of the Regrate, and 4 to 9, with considerable differences.

‘The Seaman’s Sorrowful Bride,’ Roxburghe, IV, 73, Ebsworth, VI, 444,

begins with two stanzas which resemble Johnson, 2, 1. This last was

printed for J. Deacon, in Guilt-spur-street, and the date, according to

Chappell, would be 1684-95.

93. Lamkin.

P. 331, =I=, as it stands in “The Old Lady’s Collection,” No 15.

Lamken was as gued a masson

as ever did hue ston;

He bigged Lord Weary’s house,

an pament never got non.

It fell ance on a day

Lord Weary went from home,

An Lamkin came to the fause nirice,

. . . . . . .

* * * * * * *

‘O still my bairn, nirice,

still him we the kniff:’

‘He winnë still, lady,

tho I sud lay doun my life.’

‘O still my bairn, nirice,

still him we the bell:’

‘He winnë still, lady,

till ye come doun yersell.’

The first step she came on,

it was the stane;

The nest step

she mett him Lamkin.

‘O spare my life, Lamkin,

an I ell gee ye a peak of goud well laid on;

An that dinnë pleas ye,

I ell heap it we my hand.’

‘O will I kill the lady, nirice,

or will I lat her gang?’

‘O kill her, Lanken,

she was never gued to me.’

‘O wanted ye yer meatt, nirice?

or wanted ye yer fiee?

Or wanted ye the other bountys

lady’s are wont to gee?’

. . . . . .

‘Kill her, Lanken,

she was never gued to me.’

‘Ye wash a bason, nirice,

an ye wash it clean,

To cape this lady’s blode;

she is come of high kine.’

‘I winnë wash a bason,

nor wash it clean,

To cap this lady’s blod,

tho she be come of high kine.’

Bonny sang yon burd

as he satt on the tree,

Bat sare grat Lamkin

fan he was hanged hie.

Bonny sang the burd

that satt on the hill,

Bat sare grat the nirice

fan the caldron began to boill.

Lankin was hanged,

. . . . . high,

An the faus nirice

was burnt in the cadron was she.

* * * * *

339 ff., 513, IV, 480.

‘Lammikin,’ Findlay’s MSS, I, 173, “from J. Milne, who wrote it down

from recitation by John Duncan.”

Lie in your room, my wife,

. . . . . .

‘You’ll fasten doors and windows,

you’ll fasten them out an in,

For if you leave ae window open

Lammikin will come in.’

They’ve fastened doors an windows,

they’ve fastened them out an in,

But they have left ae window open,

an Lammikin cam in.

‘O where are a’ the women

that dwell here within?’

‘They’re at the well washin,

and they will not come in.’

‘O where are a’ the men

that dwell here within?’

‘They’re at the. .. .,

and they will not come in.’

‘O where is the lady

that dwells here within?’

‘She’s up the stair dressin,

an she will not come doun.’

‘It’s what will we do

to mak her come doun?

We’ll rock the cradle, nourrice,

an mak her come doun.’

They [hae] rocked the cradle

to mak her come doun,

. . . . . .

the red bluid out sprung.

‘O still the bairn, nourrice,

O still him wi the bell:’

‘He winna still, my lady,

till ye come doun yersel.’

The first step she steppit,

it was upon a stane;

The next step she steppit,

she keppit Lammikin.

‘O mercy, mercy, Lammikin,

hae mercy upo me!

Tho ye hae killed my young son,

ye may lat mysel abee.’

‘O it’s will I kill her, nourrice,

or will I lat her be?’

‘O kill her, kill her, Lammikin,

she neer was gude to me.’

‘O it’s wanted ye your meat?

or wanted ye your fee?’

. . . . . .

‘I wanted not my meat,

I wanted not my fee,

But I wanted some bounties

that ladies can gie.’

95. The Maid freed from the Gallows.

P. 346, III, 516 a, IV, 481 b. =Italian.= Maria Carmi, Canti pop.

Emiliani, Archivio, XII, 189. Brunetina, after she has been rescued

by her lover, is informed, while she is dancing at a ball, that her

mother is dead. Bury her, she replies, I will dress in complete red,

and she goes on dancing. So of her father. But when told that her

lover is dead, she says she will dress in complete black, and bids the

music stop, for she wishes to dance no more. ‘La Ballerina,’ Nigra, No

107, p. 469, is no doubt the last half of this ballad corrupted at the

conclusion. The woman will not stop dancing for the reported death of

father, mother, brother, sister, husband, but when told that her boy is

dead asks the players to cease, her legs are broken, she can dance no

more.

In ‘Leggenda Marinesca’ (di Catanzaro), La Calabria, October, 1893,

VI, 16, a wife (or perhaps an affianced young woman) is ransomed from

pirates by her husband (or betrothed), after father, mother, and

brother have refused. If her father, mother, brother, should die, she

would deck her hair, dress in red, yellow, or white, bid the guitar

strike up, and dance; but if her true-love died, she would put on

black, cut her hair, and throw the guitar into the sea.

349. Mr Kaarle Krohn, of the University of Helsingfors, has favored me

with the following study of the very numerous Finnish and Esthonian

versions of this ballad, incorporating therein the researches of his

father, Julius Krohn, already referred to at IV, 482 a. (Estlander’s

discussion, which I had not seen, “Sången om den friköpta,” occupies

pp. 331-356 of the tenth volume of Finsk Tidskrift.)

I. The West Finnish versions, dispersed over West and East Finland

and Ingria. These are in the modern metre, which came into use hardly

before the end of the seventeenth century, and it is in the highest

degree probable that they were learned from the Swedes. About thirty

copies known. Specimen, Reinholm’s collection, H 12, No 76, from the

Nystad district northward from Åbo, in Southwest Finland; J. K., p.

11[120].

Prevailing traits: 1. The maid is sitting in a little room, less

frequently in a ship’s cabin or a boat. 2. The father has three horses.

3. The mother has three cows. 4. The brother has three swords. 5. The

sister has three crowns, or, in copies from further east, where crowns

are not used for head-gear, three silk kerchiefs. 6. The lover has

three ships, or almost as often three castles (mansions). There are

variations, but rarely, as to the objects possessed, and sometimes

exchanges, but only two cases are of importance. In one copy from the

extreme of Southeast Finland, the father has three oxen, which seems to

be the original disposition, the change to horses coming about from the

circumstance that oxen are seldom employed for ploughing in Finland. In

four copies from the most eastern part of Finland the sister has three

sheep, perhaps owing to the influence of the East Finnish versions. 7.

The imprecations and benedictions at the end occur regularly. May the

horses be knocked up or die at ploughing-time; may the cows die, dry

up, etc., at milking-time; the swords shiver in war-time; the crowns

fall off or melt at wedding or dance (the silk kerchiefs tear, fade,

spoil with wet); and on the other hand, may the ships sail well, do

well, make money at trading-time; the castles rise, flourish in time of

destitution, of bad crops. Etc.

II. The later Esthonian versions, Esthonia and Livonia, in modern

metre, of more recent origin, probably, than in Finland. About twenty

copies known. Specimen, J. Hurt, Vana Kannel, II, 365, No 367. Lilla is

sitting in the little room in weary expectation. She sees her father

walking on the sea-beach. ‘Dear father, beloved father, ransom me!’

‘Wherewith ransom you, when I have no money?’ ‘You have three horses at

home, and can pawn one.’ ‘I can do better without my Lilla than without

my three horses; the horses are mine for all my life, Lilla for a short

time.’ In like fashion, the mother is not willing to sacrifice one of

her three cows, the brother one of his three swords, the sister one of

her three rings. But the lover, who has three ships, says, I can better

give up a ship than give up my dear Lilla; my ships are mine for a

short time, but Lilla for all my life. Lilla breaks out in execrations:

may her father’s horses fall dead when they are ploughing in summer,

may her mother’s cows dry up in milking, her brother’s swords shiver in

war, her sister’s rings break in the very act of marrying; but may her

true-love’s ships long bring home precious wares.

Prevailing traits: 1. Lilla; in some copies from East Livonia, Roosi.

2. Little room; quite as often prison-tower. 3. The father has horses,

the mother cows, the brother swords, as in the West Finnish versions.

The independency of the Esthonian ballad is exhibited in the sister’s

three rings. It must, as far as I can at present see, have been

borrowed directly from the Swedish, not through the medium of the

Finnish. The lover has always three ships, and it is often wished that

these ships may sail well in storm and in winter. The maledictions

occur regularly, as in the example cited. There are some divergences

as to the items of property, mostly occasioned by the older Esthonian

version: thus, the father has sometimes oxen or corn-lofts, the brother

horses, the sister brooches.

III. The older Esthonian versions, disseminated in Esthonia and

Livonia, and also among the orthodox Esthonians beyond Pskov. These are

in the old eight-syllable measure of the runes (and of Kalevala). More

than a hundred copies have been obtained.

a. Best preserved and of most frequent occurrence in the island of

Ösel. Twenty copies. Specimen from J. Hurt’s manuscript collections.

Anne goes into the cow-house and soils her cap. She proceeds to the

sea-beach to wash her cap. Ships come from Russia, from Courland. Anne

is made captive. She weeps, and begs that the ship may be stopped; she

wishes to take a look homewards. Her father has three oxen, one of

which has silver horns, another copper, the third golden, but he will

give none of them for her. Her mother has three cows, with silver,

copper, golden udders; her brother, three horses, with the same variety

of manes; her sister, three sheep, with wool of the three sorts; a

neighbor’s son, three lofts full of wheat, rye, barley. She wishes that

the oxen may die in ploughing-time, the cows in milk-time, the horses

at wooing-time, the sheep at wool-time; but may the corn-lofts of the

neighbor’s son grow fuller in the direst famine-time.

Prevailing traits: 1. The maid’s name is Anne. 2. The pirates are

Russians (10 times), Poles (6), Courlanders (2), Swedes (1), Germans

(1), English (1). 3. The father has commonly oxen; the mother, cows

always; the brother, almost always horses; the sister, sheep, six

times, oftener than anything else; the lover, ordinarily corn-lofts.

4. The cursing occurs ten times. There are in a few cases exchanges

of the sorts of property (thus, the father has corn-lofts, the sister

has brooches, each four times), and in two instances the lover is

omitted. The ballad has perhaps been affected by another (see II, 347

f.) in which a girl receives information that she has been sold by her

relations: by her father for a pair of oxen (25 cases) or for a horse

(18), by her mother for a cow, by her brother for a horse (24) or for a

pair of oxen (14), by her sister for a brooch; and she curses all that

they have got by the sale.

b. Less perfect and not so well preserved on the Esthonian mainland.

About 100 copies, more or fewer. Specimens, Neus, p. 109, No 34, Hurt,

Vana Kannel, I, 166, No 103, II, 310, No 442.

Prevailing traits: 1. The name of the maid, Anne, and the introduction

linked to it, are often dropped, especially in the southeast of

the Esthonian district, and a passage about a young conscript who

wishes to be bought off from serving is substituted. The maid, whose

brothers have hidden away, is pressed instead of them, and sent into

service. As she is driven by the house of her parents in the military

wagon she entreats her guards not to make sail! 2. The kidnapper is

most frequently a Russian, then Pole, Swede, less commonly German,

Courlander. In the northeast of the Esthonian district, on the border

of Ingria, Karelian, four times. 3. The father often keeps the oxen,

but almost as often has horses; the brother, in these last cases, has

seldom oxen, generally horses as well as the father. The alteration

is in part owing to the same material occasion as in the West Finnish

versions; sometimes an influence from the ballad of the maiden who has

been sold by her relatives may be suspected (in which ballad it is not

easy to say whether the oxen belong originally to father or brother).

Frequently the father has corn-lofts, the lover, to whom these would

belong, having dropped out. The mother has almost always cows; in the

northeast, on the Ingrian border, three times, aprons. The brother has

generally horses, five times oxen, with other individual variations.

The sister has preserved the sheep only four times; eight times she has

brooches, and in one of these cases the ballad of the maid sold by her

relatives is blended with ours, while in the remainder the influence of

that ballad is observable. In six cases she has rings, perhaps under

the influence of the later Esthonian versions. In the southeast she

has chests seven times, and in most of these cases the lover has the

rings. Other variations occur from one to four times. The lover has his

corn-lofts nine times. Eight times he has horses, and in half of these

instances he has exchanged with the brother, or both have horses. Twice

he has ships, through the influence of the later Esthonian versions; or

rings, in which cases the father ordinarily has the corn-lofts. 4. The

imprecation in the conclusion is but rarely preserved.

IV. The East Finnish versions. Diffused in Ingria, East Finland, and

Russian Karelia. In the old rune-measure, about forty copies. Specimen,

Ahlqvist’s collection, from East Finland, No 351: see J. K., p. 11.

Prevailing traits: 1. The maid is in a boat on the Neva. 2. The

kidnapper is a Russian. 3. The father has a horse, the mother a cow,

the brother a horse, the sister a sheep (each with an epithet). 4. The

imprecation is almost without exception preserved. This version arose

from a blending of the West Finnish, I, the older Esthonian, III, and

the ballad of the maid sold by her relatives. This latter occurs in

West Ingria in the following shape: The maid gets tidings that she

has been sold. The father has received for her a gold-horse (may it

founder when on the way to earn gold!), the mother a portly cow (may it

spill its milk on the ground!), the brother a war-horse (may the horse

founder on the war-path!), the sister a bluish sheep (may wolf and bear

rend it!). In some copies the father or the brother has oxen (may they

fall dead in ploughing!), as in the Esthonian ballad, from which the

Ingrian is borrowed. The sister’s sheep instead of brooch shows perhaps

the influence of the older Esthonian ballad of the maid begging to be

ransomed, or it may be an innovation.

The ballad of the maid sold by her family occurs in West Ingria

independently, and also as an introduction to the other, and has been

the occasion for the changes in the possessions of the relatives. North

of St Petersburg the combination is not found, though it has left its

traces in the course of the spreading of the ballad from Narva to St

Petersburg.

The maid’s sitting in a boat may come as well from the older Esthonian

as from the West Finnish version, although it is more common in the

latter for her to be sitting in the “little room.” The Russian as the

kidnapper is a constant feature in the older Esthonian version, but

occurs also three times in the West Finnish (once it is the red-headed

Dane, in the copy in which the oxen are preserved). Besides Russian,

the kidnapper is once called Karelian in West Ingria, often in East

Finland, and this denomination also occurs in Northeast Esthonia.

The influence of the older Esthonian versions is shown again in some

copies preserved in West Ingria which are not mixed up with the ballad

of the maid that has been sold; the mother having three aprons in two

instances, as in some Northeast Esthonian copies.

The river Neva as a local designation is preserved in East Finland,

and shows that the version in which it occurs migrated from Ingria

northwards. In the course of its migration (which ends in Russian

Karelia) this version has become mixed with the West Finnish in

multiform ways. The prelude of the East Finnish has attached itself

to the West Finnish, notwithstanding the different metre. The trilogy

of the latter has made its way into the former, and has spoiled the

measure. It is no doubt owing to the influence of the Western version

that, in North Ingria and Karelia, the brother, more frequently the

lover, has a war-sword, the lover once a sea-ship, or the brother a red

boat or war-boat.

Finally it may be noted that in those West Ingrian copies in which

the ballads of the maid sold and the maid ransomed are blended the

ransomer is a son-in-law, and possesses “a willow castle” (wooden

strong-house?), the relation of which to the castle in the West Finnish

version is not clear.

If we denote the West Finnish versions by =a=, the older Esthonian by

=b=, the ballad of the maid sold by her family by =c=, the status of

the East-Finnish versions may be exhibited thus:

In West Ingria, =b= + =c= + =a=. In North Ingria, =b= + =c= + =a= +

=a=. In Karelia, =b= + =c= + =a= + =a= + =a=.

That is to say, there has been a constantly increasing influence

exerted by the West Finnish versions upon the East Finnish Ingrian

versions, and reciprocally. This circumstance has caused it to be

maintained that the East Finnish versions were derived from the West

Finnish, in spite of the difference of the metre.

353 a. =F= was communicated by Rev. W. Findlay: Findlay MSS, I, 100.

353. =H. c.= Mrs Bacheller, of Jacobstown, North Cornwall (sister of

Mrs Gibbons, from whom 78 =H= was derived, see IV, 474 b), gave Rev. S.

Baring-Gould the following version of the tale, taught her by a Cornish

nursery maid, probably the same mentioned at the place last cited.

“A king had three daughters. He gave each a golden ball to play with,

which they were never to lose. The youngest lost hers, and was to be

hung on the gallows-tree if it were not found by a day named. Gallows

ready, all waiting to see the girl hung. She sees her father coming,

and cries:@

‘Father, father, have you found my golden ball,

And will you set me free?’

‘I’ve not found your golden ball,

And I can’t set you free;

But I am come to see you hanged

Upon the gallows-tree.’

The same repeated with every relationship, brother, sister, etc.; then

comes the lover:

‘Lover, lover, have you found the golden ball,’ etc.

‘Yes, I have found your golden ball,

And I can set you free;

I’m not come to see you hung

Upon the gallows-tree.’”@

* * * * *

354, IV, 481 f.

‘The Prickly Bush,’ Mr Heywood Sumner, in English County Songs,

by Lucy E. Broadwood and J. A. Fuller Maitland, p. 112. From

Somersetshire.

‘O hangman, hold thy hand,’ he cried,

‘O hold thy hand awhile,

For I can see my own dear father

Coming over yonder stile.

‘O father, have you brought me gold?

Or will you set me free?

Or be you come to see me hung,

All on this high gallows-tree?’

‘No, I have not brought thee gold,

And I will not set thee free,

But I am come to see thee hung,

All on this high gallows-tree.’

‘Oh, the prickly bush, the prickly bush,

It pricked my heart full sore;

If ever I get out of the prickly bush,

I’ll never get in any more.’

The above is repeated three times more, with the successive

substitution of ‘mother,’ ‘brother,’ ‘sister,’ for ‘father.’ Then the

first two stanzas are repeated, with ‘sweetheart’ for ‘father,’ and

instead of 3 is sung:

‘Yes, I have brought thee gold,’ she cried,

‘And I will set thee free,

And I am come, but not to see thee hung

All on this high gallous-tree.’

‘Oh, the prickly bush,’ etc.

In this version, a man is expressly delivered by a maid, contrary to

the general course of tradition. So apparently in =J=, IV, 481, as

understood by Dr. Birkbeck Hill.

96. The Gay Goshawk.

P. 355. M. G. Lewis, in a letter of May 29, 1800 (Letters at

Abbotsford, I, No 30), refers to a copy of this ballad (and one of

‘Brown Adam’) which he had furnished Scott. This might perhaps be the

“MS. of some antiquity” (printed, IV, 482).

As to the bird’s part in this ballad, compare the following passage. A

son, in prison, sending a letter to his mother by a bird, gives this

charge:

Quando giugnerete alla porta mia,

Là sta un ulivo.

Posati su quell’ ulivo,

V’agita e dibatti l’ali,

Ché di te caderà il foglio di carta.

De Rada, Rapsodie d’un poema Albanese, I, canto xvi, p. 29.

P. 356 a, III, 517 a, IV, 482 a. =French.= Add: ‘La belle qui fait

la morte,’ ‘La fille du duc de Montbrison,’ Pineau, Le Folk-Lore du

Poitou, p. 311, p. 389 (each, six stanzas); ‘La belle dans la tour,’

six copies (besides Belle Idoine repeated), M. Wilmotte in Bulletin de

Folklore, Société du Folklore Wallon, 1893, p. 35.

356 b, 3d paragraph, III, 517 a. Add: A copy of ‘Les trois capitaines,’

in Mélusine, VI, 52, 183; Wallonia, I, 38; “Fréd. Thomas, La Mosäique

du Midi, V, 1841; C. Beauquier, Mém. de la Soc. d’Émulation du Doubs,

1890,” Mélusine, VI, 220, where also a Catalan version, which had

escaped my notice, Milà y Fontanals, Romancerillo, p. 259, No 264, is

registered by M. Doncieux. A Breton version, Mélusine, VI, 182.

99. Johnie Scot.

P. 379. =A.= Considering that Sir Walter Scott professes to have

derived some variations from recitation in the south of Scotland (see

the note, IV, 387), the copy in “Scottish Songs” may be fully collated,

small as will be the value of the result.

‘John the Little Scott,’ fol. 24.

John the Scot was as brave a knight

As ever shook a speir,

And he is up to fair England,

The king’s braid banner to bear.

And while he was in fair England,

Sae fair his hap did prove

That of the king’s ae daughter dear

He wan the heart and love.

But word is gane to the English king,

And an angry man was he,

And he has sworn by salt and bread

They should it dear abye.

* * * * *

4 _wanting._

5^1. Then Johny’s gane.

5^{2,4}. I wot.

5^3. the English.

6^{3,4}.

To hear some news from his true love,

Least she had sufferd wrang.

7^2. That will win hose and shoon.

7^3. will gang into.

8^1. Then up there.

9 _wanting._

10^3. to grass growing.

11^1. And when: to the king’s castle.

11^3. saw that fair ladye.

12^2, 13^2. ain sel.

12^4. And speer na your father’s.

13^1. Here take.

13^3. to feir Scotland.

13^4. Your true love waits.

14^1. The ladie turned her round about.

14^4. Unless.

15^2. In prison pinching cold.

15^3. My garters are of.

15^4. the silk and gold.

16^3. And hie thee back to yon Scottish knight.

17^1. quickly sped.

18^1. He told him then that ladie’s words.

18^2. He told him.

18^{3,4}.

But ere the tale was half said out

Sae loudly to horse he did ca.

19^4. That should have been my bride.

20^1. And spak his mither dear.

20^3. For gin you’re taen.

20^4. ye’ll.

21^1. and spak.

21^2. And Johny’s true.

21^4. And his surety I will.

22.

Then when they cam to English ground

They gard the mass be sung,

And the firsten town that they cam to

They gard the bells be rung.

23^1. And the nextin: cam to.

23^4. Were.

24^1. And when: the high castle.

24^2. rode.

25^3. Or is it.

26^1. I’m not.

26^2. James our.

26^3. But Johny Scot, the little Scot.

27^1. is thy name.

27^3. eer.

28^1. and spak the gallant.

28^3. hundred.

28^4. That will die or.

29^1. and spak.

29^2. And sae scornfully leugh he.

29^3. my bower.

30^1. boon, said the little Scot.

30^2. Bring forth your.

30^3. falls.

30^4. I hae.

Out then cam that Italian knight,

A griesly 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.

And syne has he waved his bludie glaive,

And slait it on the plain;

‘Are there any more Italian dogs

That you wish to be slain?’

‘A clerk, a clerk,’ the king he cried,

‘To register this deed;’

‘A priest, a priest,’ Pitnochtan cried,

‘To marry us wi speed.’

34 _wanting._

384. A copy of =D= was sent by Motherwell to C. K. Sharpe with a letter

of December 6, 1824, in which many of the variations of =b= were

introduced into =a=.

101. Willie o Douglas Dale.

P. 407. =A.= Collated with the copy in the Abbotsford MS. “Scottish

Songs,” as to which see the note at IV, 387.@

‘Willie of Douglas-dale,’ fol. 16.

1^1, was a gallant squire.

2^1. the English court.

2^3. When.

2^4. But her he neer could.

3^1. once.

3^2. the _wanting_.

3^4. By the _ae_.

4^1. louted low.

4^2. His cap low in his.

4^3. I greet ye well, ye gentle knight.

4^4. your cap.

5^1. knight, fair dame.

5^2. Nor eer can hope.

5^3. am but a humble squire.

5^4. That serves.

6^1. Gae.

6^2. baith night.

6^3. tempting _written before_ face _and struck out_.

6^4. ever I.

7 _wanting._

8^2. He watchd that ladye’s.

8^3. passd the twa between.

9^1. O narrow is my gown, Willy.

9^3. And short are my petticoats.

9^4. sae wide.

9^6. is laid.

10^1. gin my father get wit.

10^2. never eat.

10^{3,5}. get wit.

10^4. gae.

10^6. Ah, Willy, you’ll.

11^1. O gin ye’ll.

11^2. gang.

11^3. into.

12 _wanting._

14^1. day was come.

14^2. den.

14^3. That gentle ladye.

14^4. While the.

15^{3,4}, Or lack ye ony tender love

That may assuage your pain.

16^1. wan na.

16^2. for my.

16^3. And alas, alas.

17^1. He’s felld the thorn in.

17^2. And blawn it to a flame.

17^3. He’s strewd it.

17^4. To cheer that lovely dame.

18^1. He’s: in gude.

18^2. And laid the fair ladye.

18^3. he’s happed her oer wi withered.

18^4. his coat and goun.

19 _wanting._

20^1. branch red.

20^2. grew in gude grene wood.

20^3. And brought her a draught.

20^4. I wot they did her good.

21-23 _wanting._

24^1. to shoot.

24^2. has he _wanting_.

25 (_after_ 30).

26^{1,2}.

Syne has he sought the forest through,

Sum woman’s help to gain.

26^3. he came to a bonny.

27^1. O will ye leave the sheep, he says.

27^2. And come.

27^3. ye.

27^4. give.

28^2. She fell down.

28^3. fair dame.

28^4. For a.

29^2. but _wanting_.

29^3. ye: flocks.

29^4. And gang to fair.

30^3. for you.

30^4. marry _wanting_: Scottish man.

_After_ 30 (see 25):

O taen has she the bonny knave-boy

And washd him in the milke,

And she has tended the sick lady,

And rowd her in the silk.

31^1. maid.

31^3. took to fair.

32^1. an _wanting_.

32^3. they gat safe.

32^4. Himself was lord therein.

411. From “The Old Lady’s Collection,” No 33, ‘Willie of Duglass

Daill.’ The Dame Oliphant of the other versions is somewhat disguised

in the old lady’s writing as Demelefond, Demelofen, etc.

Willie was a rich man’s son,

A rich man’s son was he;

Hee thought his father lake to sair,

An his mother of mine digree,

An he is on to our English court,

To serve for meatt an fee.

He hadno ben in our king’s court

A tuall-month an a day,

Till he fell in love we Mary, Dem [Ele]fon,

An a great buity was she.

He hadno ben in our king’s court

A tuall-month an a houre,

Till he dreamed a lady of buty bright

Gave him a rosey flour.

The lady touk her mantell her about,

Her gooun-teall in her hand,

An she is on to gued grean woud,

As fast as she could gang.

. . . . . . . .

An ther she spayed a gellant knight,

Kamen his yallou hear.

‘What is yer name, sir knight?

For a knight I am sure ye be;’

‘I am called Willie of Duglas Dall,

Did ye never hear of me?’

‘If ye be Willie of Duglass Daill,

I afft have heard of thee.’

‘What is yer name, ye lovely dame?

For a lady I trou ye be;’

‘I am called Mary, Dem Elefond,

Did ye never hear of me?’

‘In ye be Mary, Dem Elefon,

As I trust well ye be,

. . . . . . .

My heart ye haa ye we.’

The lady was fair an rear,

The knight’s heart had she;

The knight was tall an straght withall,

The lady’s hart had he.

It fell ance upon a day

Dem Elofen thought lang,

An she is on to Willie’s bour,

As fast as she could gang.

‘Narrou is my pettecot, Willie,

It ance was saa wide,

An narrou is my stays, Willie,

Att ance wer saa wide,

An paill is my chikes, Willie,

An laigh, laigh is my pride.

‘. . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . .

An the knights of my father’s court gat word of this,

I feer they wad gare ye diee.’

He touke . . . . . . . . .

The lady by the hand,

An they are one to gued green woud,

As fast as they coud gang.

It fell ance upon a day

Strong travileng came her tell,

. . . . . . .

‘Ye take your boue on yer shoulder,

Yer arrous in yer hand,

An ye gaa farr throu green woud,

An shout some veneson.

‘Fan ye hear me loud cray,

Bide far awaa fra me,

Bat fan ye hear me laying still

Ye may come back an see.’

Fan he hard her loud cray,

He bad far awaa,

Bat fan he heard her laying still

He did come an see,

An he got her

An her young son her wee.

He milked the goats,

An feed his young son wee,

And he made a fire of the oken speals,

An warmed his lady wee.

It fell ance upon a day

The lady though[t] lang:

‘An ye haa any place in fair Scotland, Willie,

I wiss ye wad haa me hame.’

‘. . . . . . .

I ha lands an reants saa friee,

The bonny lands of Duglass Daill,

They a’ lay bread an friee.’

He’s taen the knight-bairn in his arms,

His lady by the hand,

An he is out throu gued green woud,

As fast as they coud gang.

. . . . . . . .

Till they came to a maid kepping her goats,

. . . . . . . .

‘Hallë, ye maid,

For a maid ye seem to be;

Will ye live your goats kepping

An goo we me?

‘I cannot live my father, I canno live my midder,

Nor yet my brethren three;

I cannot live my goats kepping,

An goo along we the.

‘Fatt is your name, ye lovely dame?

For a lady I am shour ye be;’

‘I am called Mary, Dem Elifond,

Did ye never hear of me?’

‘If ye be Mary, Dem Elifond,

As I trust well ye be,

I will live my goats kepping

An goo along we the.

‘For I will live my father, an I will live my mother,

An my brothers three,

An I will live my goats,

An go along we thee.’

The maid touke the knight-bairn in her ar[m]s,

An his lady took he,

An they are to gued ship-bourd,

And took God to be ther foresteed, an didne fear to droun.

An they landed att Duglas Dalle,

Far the lands was braid an frie,

An the knight-bairn was Black Sir James of Duglas Dall,

An a gallant knight was hee.

* * * * *

_Written, like all the other pieces in the collection, without

division into stanzas or verses._

2^3. Demefon; _contracted at the edge_.

9^3. was tell.

11^2. _Read_ side?

14^2. _Perhaps_ her tee.

105. The Bailiff’s Daughter of Islington.

P. 426 f. Of the Italian ballad there are many more versions, but it

is needless to cite them. Add for =Spanish=: ‘La Ausencia,’ Pidal,

Asturian Romances, Nos 31, 32, p. 152 f.

107. Will Stewart and John.

P. 433 b, 2d paragraph. Beating of daughters.

Elizabeth Paston, a marriageable woman, was “betyn onys in the weke, or

twyes, and som tyme twyes on a day, and hir hed broken in to or thre

places.” (1449.) Paston Letters, ed. Gairdner, I, 90.

110. The Knight and the Shepherd’s Daughter.

P. 457, IV, 492. From “The Old Lady’s Collection,” No 34, ‘Earl

Richerd,’==Skene, =M=.

Ther was a sheperd’s daughter

Keeped hogs upon yon hill,

An by came [t]her a gentell knight,

An he wad haa his will.

Fan his will

Of her he had taiin,

‘Kind sir, for your curtisy,

Will ye tell me yer name?’

‘Some they caa me Joke,

An some caa me John,

Bat fan I am in our king’s court

Hichkoke is my name.’

The lady being well book-read

She spealled it our agen:

‘Hichkoke in Latin

Is Earl Richerd att heam.’

He patt his liag out-our his stead

An to the gate has gain;

She kilted up her green clathing

An fast folloued she.

‘Turn back, ye carl’s dother,

An dinnë follou me;

It setts no carl’s dothers

King’s courts to see.’

‘Perhaps I am a carle’s dother,

Perhaps I am nean,

Bat fan ye gat me in free forest

Ye sud haa latten alean.’

Fan they came to yon wan water

That a’ man cas Glide,

He luked our his left shoulder,

Says, Fair maid, will ye ride?

‘I learned it in my mother’s bour,

I watt I learned it well,

Fan I came to wan water

To soum as dos the eall.

‘I learned it in my mother’s bour,

I wiss I had learned it better,

Fan I came to wan watter

To sume as dos the otter.’

She touk a golden comb,

Combed out her yallou hear,

. . . . . . .

‘Far gatt ye that, ye carl’s dother,

I pray ye tell to me;’

‘I gatt it fra my mither,’ she says,

‘To begulle sick sparks as ye.’

‘Gin ye be a carl’s gett,

As I trou well ye be,

Far gatt ye a’ that fine clothing,

To cloath yer body we?’

‘My mother was an ill woman,

An ill woman was she,

An she gatt a’ that fine clathing,

Frae sick chaps as ye.’

Fan they came to our king’s court,

She fell lou doun on her knee:

‘Win up, ye fair may,

What may ye want we me?’

‘Ther is a knight in your court

This day has robbed me.’

‘Has he robbed you of your goud?

Or of your whit monie?

Or of your meadnhead,

The flour of your body?’

‘He has no robbed me of my goud,

Nor yet of my fiee,

Bat he has robed me of my madinhead,

The flour of my body.’

‘Wad ye keen the knight,

If ye did him see?’

‘I wad keen him well by his well-fared face

An the blieth blink of his eay.’

An sighan says the king,

I wiss it binë my brother Richie!

The king called on his merry men a’,

By an, by tua, by three;

Earl Richerd had ay ben the first,

Bat the last man was he.

By that ye might a well kent

The gulty man was he;

She took him by the hand,

Says, That same is hee.

Ther was a brand laid doun to her,

A brand batt an a ring,

Three times she minted to the brand,

Bat she took up the ring;

A’that was in the court

’S counted her a wise woman.

‘I will gee ye five hundred pound,

To make yer marrage we,

An ye gie hame, ye carl’s dother,

An fash na mare we me.’

‘Ye keep yer five hundred pound,

To make yer marreg we,

For I will ha nathing bat yer sell,

The king he promised me.’

‘I ill gee ye a thousand poun,

To make yer marrage we,

An ye gae hame, ye carl’s gett,

An fash na mare we me.’

‘Ye keep yer thousand pound,

To make yer marreg we,

For I ill ha nathing batt yer sell,

The king he promised me.’

He toke her doun

An clothed her in green;

Fan she cam up,

She was fairer then the quin.

Fan they gaid to Mary Kirk,

The nettels grue by dike:

‘O gin my midder war hear,

Sai clean as she wad them peak!’