#A#, otherwise, and correctly, called Etin in #B#, a hind of giant
strength in both, who accuses her of trespassing, and stops her. Akin
pulls up the highest tree in the wood and builds a bower, invisible to
passers-by, for their habitation. #B#, which recognizes no influence of
enchantment upon the lady's will, as found in #A#, and no prepossession
on her part, as in #C#, makes Hind Etin pull up the biggest tree in the
forest as well, but it is to scoop out a cave many fathoms deep, in
which he confines Margaret till she comes to terms, and consents to _go
home_ with him, wherever that may be. Hastings, another corruption of
Etin, carries off the lady on his horse to the wood, "where again their
loves are sworn," and there they take up their abode in a cave of stone,
#C# 9. Lady Margaret lives with the etin seven years, and bears him
seven sons, #A# 9; many years, and bears seven sons, #B#; ten years, and
bears seven bairns, #C# 6, 8, 9.[335]
Once upon a time the etin goes hunting, and takes his eldest boy with
him. The boy asks his father why his mother is so often in tears, and
the father says it is because she was born of high degree, but had been
stolen by him; "is wife of Hynde Etin, wha ne'er got christendame," #B#
15. The etin, who could pull the highest tree in the wood up by the
roots, adds in #A# 15 that when he stole his wife he was her father's
cup-bearer! and that he caught her "on a misty night," which reminds us
of the mist which Young Hastings, "the groom," cast before the lady's
attendants when he carried her off.
The next time Akin goes hunting he leaves his young comrade behind, and
the boy tells his mother that he heard "fine music ring" when he was
coming home, on the other occasion. She wishes she had been there. He
takes his mother and six brothers, and they make their way through the
wood at their best speed, not knowing in what direction they are going.
But luckily they come to the gate of the king, the father and
grandfather of the band. The mother sends her eldest boy in with three
rings, to propitiate the porter, the butler-boy, who acts as usher in
this particular palace, and the minstrel who plays before the king. His
majesty is so struck with the resemblance of the boy to his daughter
that he is blinded with tears. The boy informs his grandfather that his
mother is standing at the gates, with six more brothers, and the king
orders that she be admitted. He asks her to dine, but she can touch
nothing till she has seen her mother and sister. Admitted to her mother,
the queen in turn says, You will dine with me; but she can touch nothing
till she has seen her sister. Her sister, again, invites her to dine,
but now she can touch nothing till she has seen her "dear husband."
Rangers are sent into the wood to fetch Young Akin, under promise of a
full pardon. He is found tearing his yellow hair. The king now asks Akin
to dine with him, and there appears to have been a family dinner. While
this is going on the boy expresses a wish to be christened, "to get
christendoun;" in all his eight years he had never been in a church. The
king promises that he shall go that very day with his mother, and all
seven of the boys seem to have got their christendoun; and so, we may
hope, did Hind Etin, who was, if possible, more in want of it than they;
#B# 15, 19.
In this story #A# and #B# pretty nearly agree. #C# has nothing of the
restoration of the lady to her parents and home. The mother, in this
version, having harped her seven bairns asleep, sits down and weeps
bitterly. She wishes, like Fair Annie, that they were rats, and she a
cat, to eat them one and all. She has lived ten years in a stone cave,
and has never had a churching. The eldest boy suggests that they shall
all go to some church: they be christened and she be churched. This is
accomplished without any difficulty, and, as the tale stands, we can
only wonder that it had not been attempted before.
The etin of the Scottish story is in Norse and German a dwarf-king,
elf-king, hill-king, or even a merman. The ballad is still sung in
Scandinavia and Germany, but only the Danes have versions taken down
before the present century.
#Danish.# 'Jomfruen og Dværgekongen,' Grundtvig, No 37, #A-C# from
manuscripts of the sixteenth century. #A-G#, Grundtvig, II, 39-46; #H#,
I, III, 806-808; #K-T#, IV, 795-800, #P-S# being short fragments. #K#
previously in "Fylla," a weekly newspaper, 1870, Nos 23, 30; #L-O#, #Q#,
#R#, 'Agnete i Bjærget,' in Kristensen's Jyske Folkeviser, II, 72, 77,
349, 74, I, xxxi, II, 79; #U#, a short fragment, Danske Viser, V, x,
xi.
#Swedish.# 'Den Bergtagna,' #A#, #B#, Afzelius, I, 1, No 1, II, 201.
#C#, 'Bergkonungen,' Afzelius, II, 22, No 35. #D#, #E#, 'Herr Elver,
Bergakonungen,' Arwidsson, II, 277, No 141 B, II, 275, No 141 A. #F#,
'Jungfrun och Bergakonungen,' Arwidsson, II, 280, No 142. #G#, 'Agneta
och Bergamannen,' Wigström, Folkdiktning, p. 13. #H#, 'Jungfrun och
Bergamannen,' the same, p. 21. #I#, #K#, #L#, in Cavallius and Stephens'
manuscript collection (#K#, #L#, fragments), given by Grundtvig, IV,
803. #M#, F. L. Borgströms Folkvisor, No 11, described by Grundtvig, IV,
802. #N#, Werner's Westergötlands Fornminnen, p. 93 f, two stanzas.
#Norwegian.# #A#, #B#,[336] #C#, 'Liti Kersti, som vart inkvervd,'
Landstad, p. 431, No 42, p. 442, No 44, p. 446, No 45. #D#, 'Margit
Hjuxe, som vart inkvervd,' the same, p. 451, No 46. #E#, #F#, 'Målfri,'
'Antonetta,' Grundtvig, IV, 801 f, the last evidently derived from
Denmark. #G-P#, nine versions communicated to Grundtvig by Professor
Sophus Bugge, and partially described in Danmarks gamle Folkeviser, III,
808-10. Lindeman gives the first stanza of #A# with airs No 214, No 262
of his Fjeldmelodier, and perhaps had different copies. Nos 323, 320 may
also have been versions of this ballad. #C#, rewritten, occurs in #J#.
M. Moe og Ivar Mortensen's Norske Fornkvæde og Folkevisur, p. 16. Mixed
forms, in which the ballad proper is blended with another, Landstad, No
43==Swedish, Arwidsson, No 145; eight, communicated by Bugge, Grundtvig,
III, 810-13; two others, IV, 483 f.[337]
#Färöe.# #A#, #B#, Grundtvig, IV, 803 f.
#Icelandic.# 'Rika álfs kvæði,' Íslenzk fornkvæði, No 4.
Danish #A#, one of the three sixteenth-century versions, tells how a
knight, expressing a strong desire to obtain a king's daughter, is
overheard by a dwarf, who says this shall never be. The dwarf pretends
to bargain with the knight for his services in forwarding the knight's
object, but consults meanwhile with his mother how he may get the lady
for himself.[338] The mother tells him that the princess will go to
even-song, and the dwarf writes runes on the way she must go by, which
compel her to come to the hill. The dwarf holds out his hand and asks,
How came ye to this strange land? to which the lady answers mournfully,
I wot never how. The dwarf says, You have pledged yourself to a knight,
and he has betrayed you with runes: this eve you shall be the dwarf's
guest. She stayed there the night, and was taken back to her mother in
the morning. Eight years went by; her hand was sought by five kings,
nine counts, but no one of them could get a good answer. One day her
mother asked, Why are thy cheeks so faded? Why can no one get thee? She
then revealed that she had been beguiled by the dwarf, and had seven
sons and a daughter in the hill, none of whom she ever saw. She thought
she was alone, but the dwarf-king was listening. He strikes her with an
elf-rod, and bids her hie to the hill after him. Late in the evening the
poor thing dons her cloak, knocks at her father's door, and says
good-night to the friends that never will see her again, then sadly
turns to the hill. Her seven sons advance to meet her, and ask why she
told of their father. Her tears run sore; she gives no answer; she is
dead ere midnight.
With #A# agrees another of the three old Danish copies, #B#, and three
modern ones, #D#, #M#, #N#, have something of the opening scene which
characterizes #A#. So also Swedish #C#, #I#, and the Icelandic ballad.
In Swedish #C#, Proud Margaret, who is daughter of a king of seven
kingdoms, will have none of her suitors (this circumstance comes too
soon). A hill-king asks his mother how he may get her. She asks in
return, What will you give me to make her come of herself to the hill?
He promises red gold and chestfuls of pence; and one Sunday morning
Margaret, who has set out to go to church, is made--by magical
operations, of course--to take the way to the hill.
A second form begins a stage later: Danish #C#, #G#, #K#, Swedish #D#,
#E#, #K#, Norwegian #A#, #C#, #E#, #G#, #H#, #I# (?), #K#, #L#, #M# (?),
#N# (?), Färöe #A#, #B#. We learn nothing of the device by which the
maid has been entrapped. Mother and daughter are sitting in their bower,
and the mother asks her child why her cheeks are pale, why milk is
running from her breasts. She answers that she has been working too
hard; that what is taken for milk is mead. The mother retorts that other
women do not suffer from their industry; that mead is brown, and milk is
white. Hereupon the daughter reveals that she has been beguiled by an
elf, and, though living under her mother's roof, has had eight or nine
children (seven or eight sons and a daughter; fifteen children, Färöe
#A#, #B#), none of whom she ever saw, since after birth they were always
transferred to the hill (see, especially, Danish #C#, #G#, also #A#;
Norwegian #H#, #I#; Färöe #A#, #B#). The mother (who disowns her, Danish
#C#, #G#, Swedish #D#, #E#, Norwegian #K#), in several versions, asks
what gifts she got for her honor. Among these was a harp [horn,
Norwegian #L#], which she was to play when she was unhappy. The mother
asks for a piece, and the first tones bring the elf, who reproaches the
daughter for betraying him: had she concealed their connection she might
still have lived at home, #C#; but now she must go with him. She is
kindly received by her children. They give her a drink which makes her
forget father and mother, heaven and earth, moon and sun, and even makes
her think she was born in the hill, Danish #C#, #G#, Swedish #D#,
Norwegian #A#, #C#.[339]
Danish #G#, #K#, Färöe #A#, #B#, take a tragic turn: the woman dies in
the first two the night she comes to the hill. Danish #C#, one of the
sixteenth-century versions, goes as far as possible in the other
direction. The elf-king pats Maldfred's cheek, takes her in his arms,
gives her a queen's crown and name.
And this he did for the lily-wand,
He had himself christened and all his land!
A third series of versions offers the probable type of the
much-corrupted Scottish ballads, and under this head come Danish #E#,
#F#, #H#, #I#, #L-R#, #T#; Swedish #A#, #B#, #F-I#, and also #C#, after
an introduction which belongs to the first class; Norwegian #D#, #F#.
The characteristic feature is that the woman has been living eight or
nine years in the hill, and has there borne her children, commonly seven
sons and a daughter. She sets out to go to matins, and whether under the
influence of runes, or accidentally, or purposely, takes the way to the
hill. In a few cases it is clear that she does not seek the hill-man or
put herself in his way, e.g., Danish #N#, Swedish #G#, but Swedish #A#,
#H#, #N# make her apply for admission at the hill-door. In Danish #I#,
#N-R#, #T#, Norwegian #F#, it is not said that she was on her way to
church; she is in a field or in the hill. In Swedish #F# she has been
two years in the cave, and it seems to her as if she had come yesterday.
After her eight or nine years with the hill-man the woman longs to go
home, Danish #E#, #F#, #I#, Swedish #A#, #F#, #I#, Norwegian #D#; to go
to church, Danish #L#, #M#, #N#, #P#, #T#, Norwegian #F#; for she had
heard Denmark's bells, church bells, Danish #L-P#, #T#, Swedish #G#,
Norwegian #D#, #F#. She had heard these bells as she watched the
cradle, Danish #T#, #P#, Swedish #G#; sat by the cradle and sang, #T# 4;
compare English #C# 7. She asks the hill-man's permission, and it is
granted on certain terms: she is not to talk of him and her life in the
hill, Danish #E#, #I#, Swedish #A#, #F#, #I#, is to come back, Danish
#F#, must not stay longer than an hour or two, Norwegian #D#; she is not
to wear her gold, her best clothes, not to let out her hair, not to go
into her mother's pew at the church, not to bow when the priest
pronounces the holy name, or make an offering, or go home after service,
etc., Danish #I#, #L-P#, #T#, Norwegian #F#. All these last conditions
she violates, nor does she in the least heed the injunction not to speak
of the hill-man. The consequence is that he summarily presents himself,
whether at the church or the paternal mansion, and orders her back to
the hill, sometimes striking her on the ear or cheek so that blood runs,
or beating her with a rod, Danish #E#, #I#, #L#, #M#, #S#, #T#, Swedish
#A#, #B#, #C#, #H#, #I#, Norwegian #F#. In a few versions, the hill-man
tells her that her children are crying for her, and she replies, Let
them cry; I will never go back to the hill; Danish #M#, #N#, #O#,
Norwegian #F#. In Danish #E#, Swedish #G#, a gold apple thrown into her
lap seems to compel her to return; more commonly main force is used. She
is carried dead into the hill, or dies immediately on her arrival, in
Norwegian #F#, Danish #T#; she dies of grief, according to traditional
comment, in Norwegian #D#. They give her a drink, and her heart breaks,
Swedish #A#, #G#, #H#, #M#; but elsewhere the drink only induces
forgetfulness, Danish #L#, #M#, Swedish #B#, #C#, #F#.
Much of the story of 'Jomfruen og Dværgekongen' recurs in the ballad of
'Agnete og Havmanden,' which, for our purposes, may be treated as a
simple variation of the other. The Norse forms are again numerous, but
all from broadsides dating, at most, a century back, or from recent
tradition.
#Danish.# 'Agnete og Havmanden,' Grundtvig, No 38, #A-D#, II, 51 ff, 656
ff, III, 813 ff. Copies of #A# are numerous, and two had been previously
printed; in Danske Viser, I, 313, No 50, and "in Barfod's Brage og Idun,
II, 264." #E#, Rask's Morskabslæsning, III, 81, Grundtvig, II, 659. #F#,
one stanza, Grundtvig, p. 660. #G#, #H#, the same, III, 816. #I#,
Kristensen, II, 75, No 28 C, Grundtvig, IV, 807. #K#, Grundtvig, IV,
808.[340]
#Swedish.# #A#, #B#, #C#, in Cavallius and Stephens' unprinted
collection, described by Grundtvig, II, 661. #D#, 'Agneta och
Hafsmannen,' Eva Wigström's Folkdiktning, p. 9. #E#, Bergström's
Afzelius, II, 308. #F#, 'Skön Anna och Hafskungen,' Aminson, Bidrag till
Södermanlands äldre Kulturhistoria, III, 43. #G#, 'Helena och
Hafsmannen,' the same, p. 46.
#Norwegian.# #A#, Grundtvig, III, 817, properly Danish rather than
Norwegian. #B#, a version partly described at p. 818. #C#, Grundtvig,
IV, 809, also more Danish than Norwegian. All these communicated by
Bugge.
Danish #C#, #G#, Norwegian #A#, have a hillman instead of a merman, and
might as well have been put with the other ballad. On the other hand,
the Danish versions #M#, #N#, #O# of 'The Maid and the Dwarf-King' call
the maid Agenet, and give the hill-man a name, Nek, Netmand, Mekmand,
which implies a watery origin for him, and the fragments #P#, #Q#, #R#
have similar names, Nekmand, Negen, Lækkemand, as also Agenete, and
might as well have been ranked with 'Agnes and the Merman.' In 'The Maid
and the Dwarf-King,' Swedish #L# (one stanza) the maid is taken by "Pel
Elfven" to the sea.
Agnes goes willingly with the merman to the sea-bottom, Danish #A#, #D#,
#E#, #K#, Swedish #A#, #D#, #E#, Norwegian #A#, #C#. She lives there,
according to many versions, eight years, and has seven children. As she
is sitting and singing by the cradle one day, she hears the bells of
England, Danish #A#, #C#, #D#, #E#, #H#, #I#, #K#, Swedish #D# [church
bells, bells, #F#, #G#], Norwegian #A#, #C#. She asks if she may go to
church, go home, and receives permission on the same terms as in the
other ballad. Her mother asks her what gifts she had received, Danish
#A#, #D#, #E#, #H#, #I#, Swedish #E#, #F#, Norwegian #C#. When the
merman comes into the church all the images turn their backs, Danish
#A#, #D#, #K#, Swedish #D#, #F#, #G#, Norwegian #A#, #C#; and, in some
cases, for Agnes, too. He tells her that the children are crying for
her; she refuses to go back, Danish #A#, #C#,# D#, #I#, #K#, Swedish
#D#, #F#, #G# (and apparently #A#, #B#, #C#), Norwegian #C#. In
Norwegian #A# the merman strikes her on the cheek, and she returns; in
Danish #I# she is taken back quietly; in Danish #C# he gives her so sore
an ail that she dies presently; in Danish #H# she is taken away by
force, and poisoned by her children; in Danish #K# the merman says that
if she stays with her mother they must divide the children (five). He
takes two, she two, and each has to take half of the odd one.
The Norse forms of 'Agnes and the Merman' are conceded to have been
derived from Germany: see Grundtvig, IV, 812. Of the #German# ballad,
which is somewhat nearer to the English, the following versions have
been noted:
#A.# 'Die schöne Agniese,' Fiedler, Volksreime und Volkslieder in
Anhalt-Dessau, p. 140, No 1==Mittler, No 553. #B.# 'Die schöne Agnese,'
Parisius, Deutsche Volkslieder in der Altmark und im Magdeburgischen
gesammelt, p. 29, No 8 B, from nearly the same region as #A#. #C.#
Parisius, p. 28, No 8 A, Pechau on the Elbe. #D.# 'Die schöne Angnina,'
Erk's Neue Sammlung, ii, 40, No 26==Mittler, No 552, from the
neighborhood of Magdeburg. #E.# 'Die Schöne Agnete,' Erk's Liederhort,
No 16^a, p. 47, Erk's Wunderhorn, IV, 91, from the neighborhood of
Guben. _F._ 'Die schöne Dorothea,' Liederhort, No 16^b, p. 48, Gramzow
in der Ukermark. #G.# 'Die schöne Hannăle,' Liederhort, No 16, p. 44,
Erk's Wunderhorn, IV, 87, Silesia. #H.# 'Die schöne Hannele,' Hoffmann
u. Richter, Schlesische Volkslieder, p. 3, No 1==Mittler, No 551, Böhme,
No 90 A, Breslau. 'Der Wassermann,' Simrock, No 1, is a compounded copy.
A wild merman has become enamored of the King of England's daughter,
#A#, #B#, #C#, #D#. He plates a bridge with gold; she often walks over
the bridge; it sinks with her into the water [the merman drags her down
into the water, #H#]. She stays below seven years, and bears seven sons.
One day [by the cradle, #C#, #G#] she hears the bells of England, #A# 6,
#B#, #C#, #D#, #F# [bells, #E#, #G#, #H#], and longs to go to church.
She expresses this wish to the merman, #C#, #D#, #G#, #H#. The merman
says she must take her seven sons with her, #B#, #C#, #D#; she must come
back, #G#, #H#. She takes her seven sons by the hand, and goes with them
to England, #A# 5, #B# 7; cf. Scottish #C# 13, 14, #A# 22, 50. When she
enters the church everything in it bows, #A#, #B#, #F#. Her parents are
there, #C#, #D#; her father opens the pew, her mother lays a cushion for
her, #G#, #H#. As she goes out of the church, there stands the merman,
#A#, #B#, #E#, #F#. Her parents take her home in #D#, #G#, #H#. They
seat her at the table, and while she is eating, a gold apple falls into
her lap (cf. 'The Maid and the Dwarf-King,' Danish #E#, Swedish #G#),
which she begs her mother to throw into the fire; the merman appears,
and asks if she wishes him burnt, #G#, #H#. The merman, when he presents
himself at the church, asks whether the woman will go back with him, or
die where she is, and she prefers death on the spot, #A#, #B#, #E#. In
the other case, he says that if she will not return, the children must
be divided,--three and three, and half of the seventh to each; the
mother prefers the water to this. #D# has a peculiar and not very happy
trait. The merman fastens a chain to his wife's foot before she goes up,
and, having been kept long waiting, draws it in. But the people at the
church have taken off the chain, and he finds nothing at the end of it.
He asks whether she does not wish to live with him; she replies, I will
no longer torment you, or fret myself to death.
The story of Agnes and the Merman occurs in a Wendish ballad, with an
introductory scene found in the beautiful German ballad, 'Wassermanns
Braut:'[341] Haupt und Schmaler, I, 62, No 34. A maid begs that she may
be left to herself for a year, but her father says it is time for her to
be married. She goes to her chamber, weeps and wrings her hands. The
merman comes and asks, Where is my bride? They tell him that she is in
her chamber, weeping and wringing her hands. The merman asks her the
reason, and she answers, They all say that you are the merwoman's son.
He says he will build her a bridge of pure silver and gold, and have her
driven over it with thirty carriages and forty horses; but ere she has
half passed the bridge it goes down to the bottom. She is seven years
below, has seven sons in as many years, and is going with the eighth.
She implores her husband to permit her to go to church in the upper
world, and he consents, with the proviso that she shall not stay for the
benediction. At church she sees her brother and sister, who receive her
kindly. She tells them that she cannot stay till the benediction;[342]
they beg her to come home to dine with them. She does wait till the
benediction; the merman rushes frantically about. As she leaves the
church and is saying good-by to her sister, she meets the merman, who
snatches the youngest child from her (she appears to have all seven with
her), tears it in pieces, strangles the rest, scatters their limbs on
the road, and hangs himself, asking, Does not your heart grieve for your
children? She answers, I grieve for none but the youngest.[343]
A Slovenian ballad has the story with modifications, Achacel and
Korytko, [S,]lovénşke Péşmi krajnskiga Naróda, I, 30,[344]
'Povodnji mósh;' given in abstract by Haupt and Schmaler, I, 339, note
to No. 34. Mizika goes to a dance, in spite of her mother's forbidding.
Her mother, in a rage, wishes that the merman may fetch her. A young man
who dances with her whirls her round so furiously that she complains,
but he becomes still more violent. Mizika sees how it is, and exclaims,
The merman has come for me! The merman flies out of the window with her,
and plunges into the water. She bears a son, and asks leave to pay a
visit to her mother; and this is allowed on conditions, one of which is
that she shall not expose herself to a benediction. She does not
conform, and the merman comes and says that her son is crying for her.
She refuses to go with him, and he tears the boy in two, that each may
have a half.
Two or three of the minuter correspondences between the Scottish and the
Norse or German ballads, which have not been referred to, may be
indicated in conclusion. The hillman, in several Norwegian copies, as
#B#, #M#, carries off the lady on horseback, and so Hastings in #C#. In
#A# 34-39, the returned sister, being invited to dine, cannot eat a bit
or drink a drop. So, in 'The Maid and the Dwarf-King,' Swedish #G# 15,
16, they set before Agnes dishes four and five, dishes eight and nine,
but she can take nothing:
Agneta ej smakte en endaste bit.
Young Akin, in #A# 43, is found in the wood, "tearing his yellow hair."
The merman has golden hair in Danish #A# 16, Swedish #D# 2, 19,
Norwegian #A# 17 (nothing very remarkable, certainly), and in Danish #D#
31 wrings his hands and is very unhappy, because Agnes refuses to
return. It is much more important that in one of the Swedish copies of
the merman ballad, Grundtvig, II, 661a, we find a trace of the
'christendom' which is made such an object in the Scottish ballads:
'Nay,' said the mother, 'now thou art mine,'
And christened her with water and with wine.
'The Maid and the Dwarf-King,' Danish #E#, is translated by Prior, III,
338; Swedish #A# by Stephens, Foreign Quarterly Review, XXV, 35; Swedish
#C# by Keightley, Fairy Mythology, p. 103. 'Agnes and the Merman,'
Danish #A#, #C#, by Prior, III, 332, 335; some copy of #A# by Borrow, p.
120; Øhlenschlæger's ballad by Buchanan, p. 76.
Scottish #B# is translated, after Allingham, by Knortz, Lieder u.
Romanzen, No 30; #A# 1-8, #C# 6-14, by Rosa Warrens, Schottische
Volkslieder, No 2; a compounded version by Roberts into German by
Podhorszki, Acta Comparationis, etc., VIII, 69-73.
A
Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 6;
Motherwell's MS., p. 554.
1
Lady Margaret sits in her bower door,
Sewing at her silken seam;
She heard a note in Elmond's wood,
And wishd she there had been.
2
She loot the seam fa frae her side,
And the needle to her tae,
And she is on to Elmond's wood
As fast as she coud gae.
3
She hadna pu'd a nut, a nut,
Nor broken a branch but ane,
Till by it came a young hind chiel,
Says, Lady, lat alane.
4
O why pu ye the nut, the nut,
Or why brake ye the tree?
For I am forester o this wood:
Ye shoud spier leave at me.
5
'I'll ask leave at no living man,
Nor yet will I at thee;
My father is king oer a' this realm,
This wood belongs to me.'
6
She hadna pu'd a nut, a nut,
Nor broken a branch but three,
Till by it came him Young Akin,
And gard her lat them be.
7
The highest tree in Elmond's wood,
He's pu'd it by the reet,
And he has built for her a bower,
Near by a hallow seat.
8
He's built a bower, made it secure
Wi carbuncle and stane;
Tho travellers were never sae nigh,
Appearance it had nane.