of which traces appear to be preserved in ballads, and before all in the
English ballad 'Earl Brand,' #A#. Hunding and Helgi's family were at
feud. Helgi introduced himself into Hunding's court as a spy, and when
he was retiring sent word to Hunding's son that he had been there
disguised as a son of Hagal, Helgi's foster-father. Hunding sent men to
take him, and Helgi, to escape them, was forced to assume woman's
clothes and grind at the mill. While Hunding's men are making search, a
mysterious blind man, surnamed the bale-wise, or evil-witted (Blindr inn
bölvísi), calls out, Sharp are the eyes of Hagal's maid; it is no
churl's blood that stands at the mill; the stones are riving, the
meal-trough is springing; a hard lot has befallen a war-king when a
chieftain must grind strange barley; fitter for that hand is the
sword-hilt than the mill-handle. Hagal pretends that the fierce-eyed
maid is a virago whom Helgi had taken captive, and in the end Helgi
escapes. This malicious personage reappears in the Hrômund saga as
"Blind the Bad" and "the Carl Blind, surnamed Bavís," and is found
elsewhere. His likeness to "old Carl Hood," who "comes for ill, but
never for good," and who gives information of Earl Brand's flight with
the king's daughter, does not require to be insisted on. Both are
identical, we can scarcely doubt, with the blind [one-eyed] old man of
many tales, who goes about in various disguises, sometimes as beggar,
with his hood or hat slouched over his face,--that is Odin, the Síðhöttr
or Deep-hood of Sæmund, who in the saga of Hálf and his champions is
called simple Hood, as here, and expressly said to be Odin.[114] Odin,
though not a thoroughly malignant divinity, had his dark side, and one
of his titles in Sæmund's Edda is Bölverkr, _maleficus_. He first caused
war by casting his spear among men, and Dag, after he has killed Helgi,
says Odin was the author of all the mischief, for he brought strife
among kinsmen.[115]
The disastrous effects of "naming" in a great emergency appear in other
northern traditions, though not so frequently as one would expect. A
diverting Swedish saga, which has been much quoted, relates how St. Olof
bargained with a troll for the building of a huge church, the pay to be
the sun and moon, or St. Olof himself. The holy man was equally amazed
and embarrassed at seeing the building run up by the troll with great
rapidity, but during a ramble among the hills had the good luck to
discover that the troll's name was Wind and Weather, after which all was
easy. For while the troll was on the roof of the church, Olof called out
to him,
'Wind and Weather, hi!
You've set the spire awry;'
and the troll, thus called by his name, lost his strength, fell off, and
was dashed into a hundred pieces, all flint stones. (Iduna, Part 3, p.
60 f, note. Other forms of the same story in Afzelius, Sago-Häfder, III,
100 f; Faye, Norske Folke-Sagn, p. 14, 2d ed.; Hofberg, Nerikes Gamla
Minnen, p. 234.)
It is a Norwegian belief that when a nix assumes the human shape in
order to carry some one off, it will be his death if the selected victim
recognizes him and names him, and in this way a woman escaped in a
ballad. She called out, So you are the Nix, that pestilent beast, and
the nix "disappeared in red blood." (Faye, as above, p. 49, note.) A
nix is baffled in the same way in a Færoe and an Icelandic ballad cited
by Grundtvig, II, 57.
The marvellous horse Blak agrees to carry Waldemar [Hildebrand] over a
great piece of water for the rescue of his daughter [sister],
stipulating, however, that his name shall not be uttered. The rider
forgets himself in a panic, calls to the horse by his name, and is
thrown off into the water. The horse, whose powers had been
supernatural, and who had been _running_ over the water as if it were
land, has now only ordinary strength, and is forced to swim. He brings
the lady back on the same terms, which she keeps, but when he reaches
the land he is bleeding at every hair, and falls dead. (Landstad, 58;
Grundtvig, 62; Afzelius, 59, preface; Kristensen, I, No 66.)
Klaufi, a berserker, while under the operation of his peculiar fury,
loses his strength, and can no longer wield the weapon he was fighting
with, upon Gríss's crying out, "Klaufi, Klaufi, be not so mad!"
(Svarfdæla Saga, p. 147, and again p. 156 f.) So the blood-thirst of the
avenger's sword in the magnificent Danish ballad 'Hævnersværdet' is
restrained by naming. (Grundtvig, No 25, st. 35.) Again, men engaged in
_hamfarir_, that is in roving about in the shape of beasts, their proper
bodies remaining lifeless the while, must not be called by name, for
this might compel them to return at once to their own shape, or possibly
prevent their ever doing so. (Kristni Saga, ed. 1773, p. 149. R.T. King,
in Notes and Queries, 2d Ser., II, 506.) Grundtvig remarks that this
belief is akin to what is related in Fáfnismál (prose interpolation
after st. 1), that Sigurd concealed his name by reason of a belief in
old times that a dying man's word had great power, if he cursed his foe
by name. (D.g.F., II, 340.)
The beautiful fancy of plants springing from the graves of star-crossed
lovers, and signifying by the intertwining of stems or leaves, or in
other analogous ways, that an earthly passion has not been extinguished
by death, presents itself, as is well known, very frequently in popular
poetry. Though the graves be made far apart, even on opposite sides of
the church, or one to the north and one to the south outside of the
church, or one without kirk wall and one in the choir, however
separated, the vines or trees seek one another out, and mingle their
branches or their foliage:
"Even from the tomb the voice of Nature cries,
Even in our ashes live their wonted fires!"
The principal ballads which exhibit this conception in one or another
form are the following:
In English, 'The Douglas Tragedy,' 'Fair Margaret and Sweet William,'
'Lord Thomas and Fair Annet,' 'Fair Janet,' 'Prince Robert,' 'Lord
Lovel.' The plants in all these are either a brier and a rose, or a
brier and a birk.
#Swedish.# Arwidsson, No 73: the graves are made east and west of the
church, a linden grows from each, the trees meet over the church roof.
So E. Wigström, Folkdiktning, No 20, p. 42. Arwidsson 74 #A#: Rosea
Lilla and the duke are buried south and north in the church-yard. A rose
from her grave covers his with its leaves. The duke is then laid in her
grave, from which a linden springs. 74 #B#: the rose as before, and a
linden from the duke's grave. Arwidsson, 72, 68, Afzelius, No 19 (new
ed., 18), 23 (new ed., 21, 1, 2): a common grave, with a linden, two
trees, or lilies, and, in the last, roses also growing from the mouths
of both lovers. In one version the linden leaves bear the inscription,
My father shall answer to me at doomsday.
#Norwegian.# Landstad, 65: the lovers are laid north and south of the
church; lilies grow over the church roof.
#Danish.# Danske Viser, 124, 153, two roses. Kristensen, II, No 60, two
lilies, interlocking over church wall and ridge. 61 #B#, #C#
(==Afzelius, 19), separate graves; #B#, a lily from each grave; #C#, a
flower from each breast. Grundtvig, 184 #G#, 271 #N#, a linden; Danske
Folkeminder, 1861, p. 81, two lilies.
#German.# 'Der Ritter u. die Maid,' (1) Nicolai, I, No 2,==Kretzschmer,
I, 54; (2) Uhland, 97 #A#, Simrock, 12; (3) Erk's Liederhort, 26;
Hoffmann u. Richter, 4: the lovers are buried together, and there grow
from their grave (1) three pinks, (2) three lilies, (3) two lilies.
Wunderhorn, 1857, I, 53, Mittler, No 91: the maid is buried in the
churchyard, the knight under the gallows. A lily grows from his grave,
with an inscription, Beid wären beisammen im Himmel. Ditfurth, II, 7:
two lilies spring from her (or their) grave, bearing a similar
inscription. In Haupt and Schmaler, Volkslieder der Wenden, I, 136, from
the German, rue is _planted_ on the maid's grave, in accordance with the
last words of the knight, and the same inscription appears on one of the
leaves.
'Graf Friedrich,' Uhland, 122, Wunderhorn, II, 293, Mittler, 108, Erk's
Liederhort, 15 #a#: Graf Friedrich's bride is by accident mortally
wounded while he is bringing her home. Her father kills him, and he is
dragged at a horse's heels. Three lilies spring from his grave, with an
inscription, Er wär bei Gott geblieben. He is then buried with his
bride, the transfer being attended with other miraculous manifestations.
Other versions, Hoffmann u. Richter, 19, ==Mittler, 112, ==Liederhort,
15; Mittler, 113, 114; also Meinert, 23, ==Mittler, 109, etc.: the
lilies in most of these growing from the _bride's_ grave, with words
attesting the knight's innocence.
Lilies with inscriptions also in Wunderhorn, II, p. 251, ==Mittler, 128,
'Alle bei Gott die sich lieben;' Mittler, 130; Ditfurth, II, 4, 9;
Scherer, Jungbrunnen, 9 #A#, 25; Pogatschnigg und Hermann, 1458. Three
lilies from a maid's grave: 'Die schwazbraune Hexe' ('Es blies ein
Jäger'), Nicolai, I, 8; Wunderhorn, I, 36; Gräter's Bragur, I, 280;
Uhland, 103; Liederhort, 9; Simrock, 93; Fiedler, p. 158; Ditfurth, II,
33, 34; Reifferscheid, 15, etc. Three roses, Hoffmann u. Richter, 171,
p. 194; three pinks, _ib._, 172; rose, pink, lily, Alemannia, IV, 35.
Three lilies from a man's grave: 'Der Todwunde:' Schade, Bergreien, 10,
==Uhland, 93 #A#, ==Liederhort, 34 #g#, ==Mittler, 47, etc.
#Portuguese.# 'Conde Nillo,' 'Conde Niño,' Almeida-Garrett, III, No 18,
at p. 21; Braga, Rom. Geral., No 14, at p. 38,==Hartung, I, 17: the
infanta is buried at the foot of the high altar, Conde Nillo near the
church door; a cypress and an orange [pines]. Almeida-Garrett, III, No
20, at p. 38: a sombre clump of pines over the knight, reeds from the
princess's grave, which, though cut down, shoot again, and are heard
sighing in the night. Braga, Archip. Açor., 'Filba Maria,' 'Dom
Doardos,' 'A Ermida no Mar,' Nos 32, 33, 34, Hartung, I, 220-224;
Estacio da Veiga, 'Dom Diniz,' p. 64-67, ==Hartung, I, 217, 2: tree and
pines, olive and pines, clove-tree and pine, roses and canes: in all,
new miracles follow the cutting down. So also Almeida-Garrett, No 6, I,
167.
#Roumanian.# Alecsandri, 7, Stanley, p. 16, 'Ring and Handkerchief,'
translated by Stanley, p. 193, Murray, p. 56: a fir and a vine, which
meet over the church.
#French.# Beaurepaire, Poésie pop. en Normandie, p. 51: a thorn and an
olive are _planted_ over the graves; the thorn embraces the olive.
#Romaic.# Passow, Nos 414, 415, 456, 469; Zambelios, p. 754, No 41;
Tommaseo, Canti Popolari, III, 135; Chasiotis, p. 103, No 22: a cypress
from the man's grave, a reed from the maid's (or from a common tomb);
reversed in Passow, Nos 418, 470, and Schmidt, Griechische Märchen,
u.s.w., No 59, p. 203. Sakellarios, p. 25, No 9, cypress and apple-tree;
p. 38, No 13, cypress and lemon-tree. (F. Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, pp.
166, 168, 182, 183.)
#Servian.# Talvj, V.L. der Serben, II, p. 85: a fir and a rose; the rose
twines round the fir.
#Wend.# Haupt and Schmaler, V.L. der Wenden, II, No 48: a maid, who
kills herself on account of the death of her lover, orders two grape
vines _to be planted_ over their graves: the vines intertwine.
#Breton.# Luzel, I, p. 423: a fleur-de-lis springs from a common tomb,
and is always in flower, however often it is plucked.
#Italo-Albanian.# De Rada, Rapsodie d'un poema albanese, etc., p. 47:
the youth comes up (nacque) a cypress; the maid a white vine, which
clings around the tree. Camarda, Appendice al saggio di grammatologia
comparata, 'Angelina,' p. 112, the same; but inappropriately, as
Liebrecht has remarked, fidelity in love being wanting in this case.
#Magyar.# The lovers are buried before and behind the altar; white and
red lilies spring from the tombs; mother or father destroys or attempts
to destroy the plants: Aigner, Ungarische Volksdichtungen, 2d ed., at p.
92, p. 138, 131 f. Again, at p. 160, of the 'Two Princes' (Hero and
Leander): here a white and a red tulip are _planted_ over the graves, in
a garden, and it is expressly said that the souls of the enamored pair
passed into the tulips. In the first piece the miracle occurs twice. The
lovers had thrown themselves into a deep lake; plants rose above the
surface of the water and intertwined (p. 91); the bodies were brought up
by divers and buried in the church, where the marvel was repeated.
#Afghan.# Audam and Doorkhaunee, a poem "read, repeated, and sung,
through all parts of the country," Elphinstone's Account of the Kingdom
of Caubul, 1815, p. 185 f: two trees spring from their remains, and the
branches mingle over their tomb. First cited by Talvj, Versuch, p. 140.
#Kurd.# Mem and Zin, a poem of Ahméd X[/-a]ni, died 1652-3: two rose
bushes spring from their graves and interlock. Bulletin de la classe des
sciences historiques, etc., de l'acad. impér. des sciences de St. Pét.,
tome XV, No 11, p. 170.
The idea of the love-animated plants has been thought to be derived from
the romance of Tristan, where it also occurs; agreeably to a general
principle, somewhat hastily assumed, that when romances and popular
ballads have anything in common, priority belongs to the romances. The
question as to precedence in this instance is an open one, for the
fundamental conception is not less a favorite with ancient Greek than
with mediæval imagination.
Tristan and Isolde had unwittingly drunk of a magical potion which had
the power to induce an indestructible and ever-increasing love. Tristan
died of a wound received in one of his adventures, and Isolde of a
broken heart, because, though summoned to his aid, she arrived too late
for him to profit by her medical skill. They were buried in the same
church. According to the French prose romance, a green brier issued from
Tristan's tomb, mounted to the roof, and, descending to Isolde's tomb,
made its way within. King Marc caused the brier to be cut down three
several times, but the morning after it was as flourishing as
before.[116]
Eilhart von Oberge, vv. 9509-21 (ed. Lichtenstein, Quellen u.
Forschungen, xix, 429) and the German prose romance (Büsching u. von der
Hagen, Buch der Liebe, c. 60), Ulrich von Thürheim, vv. 3546-50, and
Heinrich von Freiberg, vv. 6819-41 (in von der Hagen's ed. of G.v.
Strassburg's Tristan) make King Marc _plant_, the first two a grape-vine
over Tristan and a rose over Isolde, the others, wrongly, the rose over
Tristan and the vine over Isolde. These plants, according to Heinrich,
struck their roots into the hearts of the lovers below, while their
branches embraced above. Icelandic ballads and an Icelandic saga
represent Tristan's wife as forbidding the lovers to be buried in the
same grave, and ordering them to be buried on opposite sides of the
church. Trees spring from their bodies and meet over the church roof,
(Íslenzk Fornkvæði, 23 #A#, #B#, #C#, #D#; Saga af Tristram ok Ísönd,
Brynjulfson, p. 199; Tristrams Saga ok Ísondar, Kölbing, p. 112). The
later Titurel imitates the conclusion of Tristan. (Der jüngere Titurel,
ed. Hahn, sts 5789, 5790.)
Among the miracles of the Virgin there are several which are closely
akin to the prodigies already noted. A lily is found growing from the
mouth of a clerk, who, though not leading an exemplary life, had every
day said his ave before the image of Mary: Unger, Mariu Saga, No 50;
Berceo, No 3; Miracles de N.D. de Chartres, p. lxiii, No 29, and p. 239;
Marien-legenden (Stuttgart, 1846), No xi and p. 269. A rose springs from
the grave and roots in the heart of a knight who had spared the honor
of a maid because her name was Mary: Unger, No clvi, Hagen's
Gesammtabenteuer, lxxiii. Roses inscribed Maria grow from the mouth,
eyes, and ears of a monk: Unger, cxxxvii; and a lily grows over a monk's
grave, springing from his mouth, every leaf of which bears Ave Maria in
golden letters: Unger, cxxxviii; Gesammtabenteuer, lxxxviii; Libro de
Exenplos, Romania, 1878, p. 509, 43, 44; etc., etc.
No one can fail to be reminded of the purple, lily-shaped flower,
inscribed with the mournful AI AI, that rose from the blood of
Hyacinthus, and of the other from the blood of Ajax, with the same
letters, "his name and eke his plaint," hæc nominis, illa querellæ.
(Ovid, Met. X, 210 ff; xiii, 394 ff.) The northern lindens have their
counterpart in the elms from the grave of Protesilaus, and in the trees
into which Philemon and Baucis were transformed. See, upon the whole
subject, the essay of Koberstein in the Weimar Jahrbuch, I, 73 ff, with
Köhler's supplement, p. 479 ff; Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, II, 689 f,
and III, 246.
"The ballad of the 'Douglas Tragedy,'" says Scott, "is one of the few to
which popular tradition has ascribed complete locality. The farm of
Blackhouse, in Selkirkshire, is said to have been the scene of this
melancholy event. There are the remains of a very ancient tower,
adjacent to the farm-house, in a wild and solitary glen, upon a torrent
named Douglas burn, which joins the Yarrow after passing a craggy rock
called the Douglas craig.... From this ancient tower Lady Margaret is
said to have been carried by her lover. Seven large stones, erected upon
the neighboring heights of Blackhouse, are shown, as marking the spot
where the seven brethren were slain; and the Douglas burn is averred to
have been the stream at which the lovers stopped to drink: so minute is
tradition in ascertaining the scene of a tragical tale, which,
considering the rude state of former times, had probably foundation in
some real event."
The localities of the Danish story were ascertained, to her entire
satisfaction, by Anne Krabbe in 1605-6, and are given again in Resen's
Atlas Danicus, 1677. See Grundtvig, II, 342 f.
#B#, Scott's 'Douglas Tragedy,' is translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og
skotske Folkeviser, No 11; Afzelius, III, 86; Schubart, p. 159; Talvj,
p. 565; Wolff, Halle, I, 76; Hausschatz, p. 201; Rosa Warrens, No 23;
Gerhard, p. 28; Loève Veimars, p. 292.
'Ribold og Guldborg,' Danish #B#, is translated by Buchanan, p. 16
(loosely); #G# by Jamieson, Illustrations, p. 317, and Prior, II, 400;
#T# by Prior, II, 407; Swedish #A#, For. Quart. Rev., XXV, 41.
'Hildebrand og Hilde,' Danish #A#, #B#, #F#, #H#, by Prior, II, 411-20.
A
#a#, #b#, from the papers of the late Robert White, Esq.,
of Newcastle-on-Tyne: #c#, R. Bell, Ancient Poems,
Ballads, etc. (1857), p. 122: #d#, fragmentary lines as
remembered by Mrs Andrews, Mr White's sister, from her
mother's singing.
1
Oh did ye ever hear o brave Earl Bran?
Ay lally, o lilly lally
He courted the king's daughter of fair England.
All i the night sae early
2
She was scarcely fifteen years of age
Till sae boldly she came to his bedside.
3
'O Earl Bran, fain wad I see
A pack of hounds let loose on the lea.'
4
'O lady, I have no steeds but one,
And thou shalt ride, and I will run.'
5
'O Earl Bran, my father has two,
And thou shall have the best o them a.'
6
They have ridden oer moss and moor,
And they met neither rich nor poor.
7
Until they met with old Carl Hood;
He comes for ill, but never for good.
8
'Earl Bran, if ye love me,
Seize this old carl, and gar him die.'
9
'O lady fair, it wad be sair,
To slay an old man that has grey hair.
10
'O lady fair, I'll no do sae;
I'll gie him a pound, and let him gae.'
11
'O where hae ye ridden this lee lang day?
Or where hae ye stolen this lady away?'
12
'I have not ridden this lee lang day.
Nor yet have I stolen this lady away.
13
'She is my only, my sick sister,
Whom I have brought from Winchester.'
14
'If she be sick, and like to dead,
Why wears she the ribbon sae red?
15
'If she be sick, and like to die,
Then why wears she the gold on high?'
16
When he came to this lady's gate,
Sae rudely as he rapped at it.
17
'O where's the lady o this ha?'
'She's out with her maids to play at the ba.'
18
'Ha, ha, ha! ye are a' mistaen:
Gae count your maidens oer again.
19
'I saw her far beyond the moor,
Away to be the Earl o Bran's whore.'
20
The father armed fifteen of his best men,
To bring his daughter back again.
21
Oer her left shoulder the lady looked then:
'O Earl Bran, we both are tane.'
22
'If they come on me ane by ane,
Ye may stand by and see them slain.
23
'But if they come on me one and all,
Ye may stand by and see me fall.'
24
They have come on him ane by ane,
And he has killed them all but ane.
25
And that ane came behind his back,
And he's gien him a deadly whack.
26
But for a' sae wounded as Earl Bran was,
He has set his lady on her horse.
27
They rode till they came to the water o Doune,
And then he alighted to wash his wounds.
28
'O Earl Bran, I see your heart's blood!'
'T is but the gleat o my scarlet hood.'
29
They rode till they came to his mother's gate,
And sae rudely as he rapped at it.
30
'O my son's slain, my son's put down,
And a' for the sake of an English loun.'
31
'O say not sae, my dear mother,
But marry her to my youngest brother.
* * * * * * *
32
'This has not been the death o ane,
But it's been that of fair seventeen.'
* * * * * * *
B
Scott's Minstrelsy, III, 246, ed. 1803; III, 6, ed. 1833:
the copy principally used supplied by Mr Sharpe, the three
last stanzas from a penny pamphlet and from tradition.
1
'Rise up, rise up, now, Lord Douglas,' she says,
'And put on your armour so bright;
Let it never be said that a daughter of thine
Was married to a lord under night.
2
'Rise up, rise up, my seven bold sons,
And put on your armour so bright,
And take better care of your youngest sister,
For your eldest's awa the last night.'
3
He's mounted her on a milk-white steed,
And himself on a dapple grey,
With a bugelet horn hung down by his side,
And lightly they rode away.
4
Lord William lookit oer his left shoulder,
To see what he could see,
And there he spy'd her seven brethren bold,
Come riding over the lee.
5
'Light down, light down, Lady Margret,' he said,
'And hold my steed in your hand,
Until that against your seven brethren bold,
And your father, I mak a stand.'
6
She held his steed in her milk-white hand,
And never shed one tear,
Until that she saw her seven brethren fa,
And her father hard fighting, who lovd her so dear.
7
'O hold your hand, Lord William!' she said,
'For your strokes they are wondrous sair;
True lovers I can get many a ane,
But a father I can never get mair.'
8
O she's taen out her handkerchief,
It was o the holland sae fine,
And aye she dighted her father's bloody wounds,
That were redder than the wine.
9
'O chuse, O chuse, Lady Margret,' he said,
'O whether will ye gang or bide?'
'I'll gang, I'll gang, Lord William,' she said,
'For ye have left me no other guide.'
10
He's lifted her on a milk-white steed,
And himself on a dapple grey,
With a bugelet horn hung down by his side,
And slowly they baith rade away.
11
O they rade on, and on they rade,
And a' by the light of the moon,
Until they came to yon wan water,
And there they lighted down.
12
They lighted down to tak a drink
Of the spring that ran sae clear,
And down the stream ran his gude heart's blood,
And sair she gan to fear.
13
'Hold up, hold up, Lord William,' she says,
'For I fear that you are slain;'
''T is naething but the shadow of my scarlet cloak,
That shines in the water sae plain.'
14
O they rade on, and on they rade,
And a' by the light of the moon,
Until they cam to his mother's ha door,
And there they lighted down.
15
'Get up, get up, lady mother,' he says,
'Get up, and let me in!
Get up, get up, lady mother,' he says,
'For this night my fair lady I've win.
16
'O mak my bed, lady mother,' he says,
'O mak it braid and deep,
And lay Lady Margret close at my back,
And the sounder I will sleep.'
17
Lord William was dead lang ere midnight,
Lady Margret lang ere day,
And all true lovers that go thegither,
May they have mair luck than they!
18
Lord William was buried in St. Mary's kirk,
Lady Margret in Mary's quire;
Out o the lady's grave grew a bonny red rose,
And out o the knight's a briar.
19
And they twa met, and they twa plat,
And fain they wad be near;
And a' the warld might ken right weel
They were twa lovers dear.
20
But bye and rade the Black Douglas,
And wow but he was rough!
For he pulld up the bonny brier,
And flang't in St. Mary's Loch.
C
Motherwell's MS., p. 502. From the recitation of Mrs
Notman.
1
'Rise up, rise up, my seven brave sons,
And dress in your armour so bright;
Earl Douglas will hae Lady Margaret awa
Before that it be light.
2
'Arise, arise, my seven brave sons,
And dress in your armour so bright;
It shall never be said that a daughter of mine
Shall go with an earl or a knight.'
3
'O will ye stand, fair Margaret,' he says,
'And hold my milk-white steed,
Till I fight your father and seven brethren,
In yonder pleasant mead?'
4
She stood and held his milk-white steed,
She stood trembling with fear,
Until she saw her seven brethren fall,
And her father that loved her dear.
5
'Hold your hand, Earl Douglas,' she says,
'Your strokes are wonderous sair;
I may get sweethearts again enew,
But a father I'll ne'er get mair.'