'If thou die in battle, tell me,_The English and Scottish popular ballads, volume 1 (of 5)

What protection shall remain then

For the old age of thy father?'

'Let him die in any alley,

Lay his life down in the house-yard.'

'What protection shall remain then

For the old age of thy mother?'

'Let her die on any straw-truss;

Let her stifle in the stable.'

'Who shall then be left thy brother,

Who stand by him in mischances?'

'Let him pine away in the forest,

Let him drop down on the common.'

'Who shall then be left thy sister,

Who stand by her in mischances?'

'When she goes to the well for water,

Or to the washing, let her stumble.'

Kullervo had his fill of revenge. Meanwhile father, brother, sister, and

mother died, and he came back to his home to find it empty and cold. A

voice from his mother's grave seemed to direct him to go to the wood for

food: obeying it, he came again to the polluted spot, where grass or

flowers would not grow any more. He asked his sword would it like to

feed on guilty flesh and drink wicked blood. The sword said, Why should

I not like to feed on guilty flesh and drink wicked blood, I that feed

on the flesh of the good and drink the blood of the sinless? Kullervo

set the sword hilt in the earth, and threw himself on the point.

(Kalewala, übertragen von Schiefner, runes 35, 36.)

The dialogue between Kullervo and his mother is very like a passage in

another Finnish rune, 'Werinen Pojka,' 'The Bloody Son,' Schröter,

Finnische Runen, 124, ed. 1819; 150, ed. 1834. This last is a form of

the ballad known in Scottish as 'Edward,' No 13, or of 'The Twa

Brothers,' No 49. Something similar is found in 'Lizie Wan,' No 51.

The passage 5-7 is a commonplace that may be expected to recur under the

same or analogous circumstances, as it does in 'Tam Lin,' #D#, 'The

Knight and Shepherd's Daughter,' 'The Maid and the Magpie,' and in one

version of 'The Broom of Cowdenknows.' These are much less serious

ballads, and the tone of stanza 5, which so ill befits the distressful

situation, is perhaps owing to that stanza's having been transferred

from some copy of one of these. It might well change places with this,

from 'The Knight and Shepherd's Daughter,' #A#:

Sith you have had your will of me,

And put me to open shame,

Now, if you are a courteous knight,

Tell me what is your name.

Much better with the solemn adjuration in the Färöe 'Margaret,' or even

this in 'Ebbe Galt,' Danske Viser, No 63, 8:

Now you have had your will of me,

To both of us small gain,

By the God that is above all things,

I beg you tell your name.

Herd's MSS, II, fol. 65. "Copied from the mouth of a

milkmaid, by W. L. in 1771."

O may she comes, and may she goes,

Down by yon gardens green,

And there she spied a gallant squire

As squire had ever been.

And may she comes, and may she goes,

Down by yon hollin tree,

And there she spied a brisk young squire,

And a brisk young squire was he.

'Give me your green manteel, fair maid,

Give me your maidenhead;

Gif ye winna gie me your green manteel,

Gi me your maidenhead.'

He has taen her by the milk-white hand,

And softly laid her down,

And when he's lifted her up again

Given her a silver kaim.

'Perhaps there may be bairns, kind sir,

Perhaps there may be nane;

But if you be a courtier,

You'll tell to me your name.'

'I am nae courtier, fair maid,

But new come frae the sea;

I am nae courtier, fair maid,

But when I court 'ith thee.

'They call me Jack when I'm abroad,

Sometimes they call me John;

But when I'm in my father's bower

Jock Randal is my name.'

'Ye lee, ye lee, ye bonny lad,

Sae loud's I hear ye lee!

Ffor I'm Lord Randal's yae daughter,

He has nae mair nor me.'

'Ye lee, ye lee, ye bonny may,

Sae loud's I hear ye lee!

For I'm Lord Randal's yae yae son,

Just now come oer the sea.'

She's putten her hand down by her spare,

And out she's taen a knife,

And she has putn't in her heart's bluid,

And taen away her life.

And he's taen up his bonny sister,

With the big tear in his een,

And he has buried his bonny sister

Amang the hollins green.

And syne he's hyed him oer the dale,

His father dear to see:

'Sing O and O for my bonny hind,

Beneath yon hollin tree!'

'What needs you care for your bonny hyn?

For it you needna care;

There's aught score hyns in yonder park,

And five score hyns to spare.

'Four score of them are siller-shod,

Of thae ye may get three;'

'But O and O for my bonny hyn,

Beneath yon hollin tree!'

'What needs you care for your bonny hyn?

For it you need na care;

Take you the best, gi me the warst,

Since plenty is to spare.'

'I care na for your hyns, my lord,

I care na for your fee;

But O and O for my bonny hyn,

Beneath the hollin tree!'

'O were ye at your sister's bower,

Your sister fair to see,

Ye'll think na mair o your bonny hyn

Beneath the hollin tree.'

* * * * * * *

* * * * *

'The Bonny Heyn,' I, 224.

3^2. _Should be ~It's not for you a weed~. Motherwell._

4^3. _The third copy omits ~when~._

4^{3, 4}. he lifted, He gae her. _Motherwell._

5^{1, 2}. _The second copy has ~they~._

6^4. _All have ~courteth~. Scott prints ~wi' thee, with

thee~._

7^3. _The third copy has ~tower~._

10^{3, 4}.

She's soakt it in her red heart's blood,

And twin'd herself of life. _Motherwell._

13, 14. _The first copy omits these stanzas._

LIZIE WAN

#A. a.# 'Lizie Wan,' Herd's MSS, I, 151; II, 78. #b.#

Herd's Scottish Songs, 1776, I, 91.

#B.# 'Rosie Ann,' Motherwell's MS., p. 398.

#A#, first printed in Herd's Scottish Songs, ed. 1776, is here given

from his manuscript copy. #B# is now printed for the first time.

#A# is translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og Skotske Folkeviser, No 50,

who subjoins a Danish ballad, 'Liden Ellen og hendes Broder,' of similar

character. Of this the editor had three versions, differing but little,

and all of slight poetical value, and he prints one which was committed

to writing some sixty or seventy years ago, with some readings from the

others. Liden Jensen, having killed Liden Ellen in a wood, pretends to

his mother that she has gone off with some knights. He is betrayed by

blood on his clothes, confesses the truth, and is condemned to be

burned. 'Herr Axel,' Arwidsson's Swedish collection, No 46, I, 308,

under similar circumstances, kills Stolts Kirstin's two children, is

asked by his mother why his hands are bloody, pretends to have slain a

hind in the wood, and has his head struck off by order of his father.

'Herr Peder og hans Söster,' an unpublished Danish ballad, of which

Grundtvig obtained a single traditional version, has also a slight

resemblance to 'Lizie Wan.' Kirsten invites Sir Peter to her bed. He

declines for various reasons, which she refutes. She discovers him to be

her brother by her needle-work in his shirt. He draws his knife and

stabs her. "This was also a pitiful sight, the twin children playing in

the mother's bosom." Compare Kristensen, II, No 74 #A#, #D#, #E#, at the

end.

The conclusion, #A# 11-12, #B# 10-17, resembles that of 'The Twa

Brothers,' No 49, but is poetically much inferior.

Herd's MSS, I, 151; stanzas 1-6, II, p. 78. Herd's

Scottish Songs, 1776, I, 91.

Lizie Wan sits at her father's bower-door,

Weeping and making a mane,

And by there came her father dear:

'What ails thee, Lizie Wan?'

'I ail, and I ail, dear father,' she said,

'And I'll tell you a reason for why;

There is a child between my twa sides,

Between my dear billy and I.'

Now Lizie Wan sits at her father's bower-door,

Sighing and making a mane,

And by there came her brother dear:

'What ails thee, Lizie Wan?'

'I ail, I ail, dear brither,' she said,

'And I'll tell you a reason for why;

There is a child between my twa sides,

Between you, dear billy, and I.'

'And hast thou tald father and mother o that?

And hast thou tald sae o me?'

And he has drawn his gude braid sword,

That hang down by his knee.

And he has cutted aff Lizie Wan's head,

And her fair body in three,

And he's awa to his mothers bower,

And sair aghast was he.

'What ails thee, what ails thee, Geordy Wan?

What ails thee sae fast to rin?

For I see by thy ill colour

Some fallow's deed thou hast done.'

'Some fallow's deed I have done, mother,

And I pray you pardon me;

For I've cutted aff my greyhound's head;

He wadna rin for me.'

'Thy greyhound's bluid was never sae red,

O my son Geordy Wan!

For I see by thy ill colour

Some fallow's deed thou hast done.'

'Some fallow's deed I hae done, mother,

And I pray you pardon me;

For I hae cutted aff Lizie Wan's head

And her fair body in three.'

'O what wilt thou do when thy father comes hame,

O my son Geordy Wan?'

'I'll set my foot in a bottomless boat,

And swim to the sea-ground.'

'And when will thou come hame again,

O my son Geordy Wan?'

'The sun and the moon shall dance on the green

That night when I come hame.'

Motherwell's MS., p. 398. From the recitation of Mrs

Storie, Lochwinnich.

Rosie she sat in her simmer bower,

Greitin and making grit mane,

When down by cam her father, saying,

What ails thee Rosie Ann?

'A deal, a deal, dear father,' she said,

'Great reason hae I to mane,

For there lyes a little babe in my side,

Between me and my brither John.'

Rosie she sat in her simmer bower,

Weeping and making great mane,

And wha cam doun but her mither dear,

Saying, What ails thee, Rosie Ann?

'A deal, a deal, dear mither,' she said,

'Great reason hae I to mane,

For there lyes a little babe in my side,

Between me and my brither John.'

Rosie she sat in her simmer bower,

Greiting and making great mane,

And wha came doun but her sister dear,

Saying, What ails thee, Rosie Ann?

'A deal, a deal, dear sister,' she said,

'Great reason hae I to mane,

For there lyes a little babe in my side,

Between me and my brither John.'

Rosie she sat in her simmer bower,

Weeping and making great mane,

And wha cam doun but her fause, fause brither,

Saying, What ails thee, Rosie Ann?

'A deal, a deal, dear brither,' she said,

'Great reason hae I to cry,

For there lyes a little babe in my side,

Between yoursell and I.'

'Weel ye hae tauld father, and ye hae tauld mither,

And ye hae tauld sister, a' three;'

Syne he pulled out his wee penknife,

And he cut her fair bodie in three.

'O what blude is that on the point o your knife,

Dear son, come tell to me?'

'It is my horse's, that I did kill,

Dear mother and fair ladie.'

'The blude o your horse was neer sae red,

Dear son, come tell to me:'

'It is my grandfather's, that I hae killed,

Dear mother and fair ladie.'

'The blude o your grandfather was neer sae fresh,

Dear son, come tell to me:'

'It is my sister's, that I did kill,

Dear mother and fair ladie.'

'What will ye do when your father comes hame,

Dear son, come tell to me?'

'I'll set my foot on yon shipboard,

And I hope she'll sail wi me.'

'What will ye do wi your bonny bonny young wife,

Dear son, come tell to me?'

'I'll set her foot on some other ship,

And I hope she'll follow me.'

'And what will ye do wi your wee son,

Dear son, come tell to me?'

'I'll leave him wi you, my dear mother,

To keep in remembrance of me.'

'What will ye do wi your houses and lands,

Dear son, come tell to me?'

'I'll leave them wi you, my dear mother,

To keep my own babie.'

'And whan will you return again,

Dear son, come tell to me?'

'When the sun and the mune meet on yon hill,

And I hope that'll neer be.'

* * * * *

#B.#

_Written without division into stanzas._

THE KING'S DOCHTER LADY JEAN

#A. a.# 'The King's Dochter Lady Jean,' Motherwell's MS.,

p. 657. #b.# 'Lady Jean,' Motherwell's Minstrelsy,

Appendix, p. xxi.

#B.# Motherwell's MS., p. 275; the first six lines in

Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 189 f.

#C.# 'Castle Ha's Daughter,' Buchan's Ballads of the North

of Scotland, I, 241.

#D.# 'Bold Burnet's Daughter.' #a.# Buchan's MSS, I, 120.

#b.# The same, II, 141.

#B# is the ballad referred to, and partly cited, in Motherwell's preface

to 'The Broom blooms bonnie and says it is fair,' Minstrelsy, p. 189.

This copy has been extremely injured by tradition; so much so as not to

be intelligible in places except by comparison with #A#. The act

described in stanza 9 should be done by the king's daughter's own hand;

stanza 12 should be addressed by her to her sister; stanza 13 is

composed of fragments of two. #C# and #D# have suffered worse, for they

have been corrupted and vulgarized.

At the beginning there is resemblance to 'Tam Lin' and to 'Hind Etin.'

#a.# Motherwell's MS., p. 657. From the recitation of Mrs

Storie, Lochwinnich. #b.# Motherwell's Minstrelsy,

Appendix, p. xxi, No XXIII, one stanza.

The king's young dochter was sitting in her window,

Sewing at her silken seam;

She lookt out o the bow-window,

And she saw the leaves growing green, my luve,

And she saw the leaves growing green.

She stuck her needle into her sleeve,

Her seam down by her tae,

And she is awa to the merrie green-wood,

To pu the nit and slae.

She hadna pu't a nit at a',

A nit but scarcely three,

Till out and spak a braw young man,

Saying, How daur ye bow the tree?

'It's I will pu the nit,' she said,

'And I will bow the tree,

And I will come to the merrie green wud,

And na ax leive o thee.'

He took her by the middle sae sma,

And laid her on the gerss sae green,

And he has taen his will o her,

And he loot her up agen.

'Now syn ye hae got your will o me,

Pray tell to me your name;

For I am the king's young dochter,' she said,

'And this nicht I daurna gang hame.'

'Gif ye be the king's young dochter,' he said,

'I am his auldest son;

I wish I had died on some frem isle,

And never had come hame!

'The first time I came hame, Jeanie,

Thou was na here nor born;

I wish my pretty ship had sunk,

And I had been forlorn!

'The neist time I came hame, Jeanie,

Thou was sittin on the nourice knee;

And I wish my pretty ship had sunk,

And I had never seen thee!

'And the neist time I came hame, Jeanie,

I met thee here alane;

I wish my pretty ship had sunk,

And I had neer come hame!'

She put her hand down by her side,

And doun into her spare,

And she pou't out a wee pen-knife,

And she wounded hersell fu sair.

Hooly, hooly rase she up,

And hooly she gade hame,

Until she came to her father's parlour,

And there she did sick and mane.

'O sister, sister, mak my bed,

O the clean sheets and strae,

O sister, sister, mak my bed,

Down in the parlour below.'

Her father he came tripping down the stair,

His steps they were fu slow;

'I think, I think, Lady Jean,' he said,

'Ye're lying far ower low.'

'O late yestreen, as I came hame,

Down by yon castil wa,

O heavy, heavy was the stane

That on my briest did fa!'

Her mother she came tripping doun the stair,

Her steps they were fu slow;

'I think, I think, Lady Jean,' she said,

'Ye're lying far ower low.'

'O late yestreen, as I cam hame,

Down by yon castil wa,

O heavy, heavy was the stane

That on my breast did fa!'

Her sister came tripping doun the stair,

Her steps they were fu slow;

'I think, I think, Lady Jean,' she said,

'Ye're lying far ower low.'

'O late yestreen, as I cam hame,

Doun by yon castil wa,

O heavy, heavy was the stane

That on my breast did fa!'

Her brither he cam trippin doun the stair,

His steps they were fu slow;

He sank into his sister's arms,

And they died as white as snaw.

Motherwell's MS., p. 275; the first six lines in

Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 189. From Margery Johnston.

Lady Margaret sits in her bow-window,

Sewing her silken seam;

. . . . . . .

She's drapt the thimble at her tae,

And her scissars at her heel,

And she's awa to the merry green-wood,

To see the leaves grow green.

She had scarsely bowed a branch,

Or plucked a nut frae the tree,

Till up and starts a fair young man,

And a fair young man was he.

'How dare ye shake the leaves?' he said,

'How dare ye break the tree?

How dare ye pluck the nuts,' he said,

'Without the leave of me?'

. . . . . . .

'Oh I know the merry green wood's my ain,

And I'll ask the leave of nane.'

He gript her by the middle sae sma,

He gently sat her down,

While the grass grew up on every side,

And the apple trees hang down.

She says, Young man, what is your name?

For ye've brought me to meikle shame;

For I am the king's youngest daughter,

And how shall I gae hame?

'If you're the king's youngest daughter,

It's I'm his auldest son,

And heavy heavy is the deed, sister,

That you and I have done.'

He had a penknife in his hand,

Hang low down by his gair,

And between the long rib and the short one

He woundit her deep and sair.

. . . . . . .

And fast and fast her ruddy bright blood

Fell drapping on the ground.

She took the glove off her right hand,

And slowly slipt it in the wound,

And slowly has she risen up,

And slowly slipped home.

* * * * * * *

'O sister dear, when thou gaes hame

Unto thy father's ha,

It's make my bed baith braid and lang,

Wi the sheets as white as snaw.'

* * * * * * *

'When I came by the high church-yard

Heavy was the stain that bruised my heel,

... that bruised my heart,

I'm afraid it shall neer heal.'

* * * * * * *

Buchan's Ballads and Songs of the North of Scotland, I,

241.

As Annie sat into her bower,

A thought came in her head,

That she would gang to gude greenwood,

Across the flowery mead.

She hadna pu'd a flower, a flower,

Nor broken a branch but twa,

Till by it came a gentle squire,

Says, Lady, come awa.

There's nane that comes to gude greenwood

But pays to me a tein,

And I maun hae your maidenhead,

Or than your mantle green.

'My mantle's o the finest silk,

Anither I can spin;

But gin you take my maidenhead,

The like I'll never fin.'

He's taen her by the milk-white hand,

And by the grass-green sleeve,

There laid her low in gude greenwood,

And at her spierd nae leave.

When he had got his wills o her,

His wills as he had taen,

She said, If you rightly knew my birth,

Ye'd better letten alane.

'Is your father a lord o might?

Or baron o high degree?

Or what race are ye sprung frae,

That I should lat ye be?'

'O I am Castle Ha's daughter,

O birth and high degree,

And if he knows what ye hae done,

He'll hang you on a tree.'

'If ye be Castle Ha's daughter,

This day I am undone;

If ye be Castle Ha's daughter,

I am his only son.'

'Ye lie, ye lie, ye jelly hind squire,

Sae loud as I hear you lie,

Castle Ha, he has but ae dear son,

And he is far beyond the sea.'

'O I am Castle Ha's dear son,

A word I dinna lie;

Yes, I am Castle Ha's dear son,

And new come oer the sea.

''Twas yesterday, that fatal day,

That I did cross the faem;

I wish my bonny ship had sunk,

And I had neer come hame.'

Then dowie, dowie, raise she up,

And dowie came she hame,

And stripped aff her silk mantle,

And then to bed she's gane.

Then in it came her mother dear,

And she steps in the fleer:

'Win up, win up, now fair Annie,

What makes your lying here?'

'This morning fair, as I went out,

Near by yon castle wa,

Great and heavy was the stane

That on my foot did fa.'

'Hae I nae ha's, hae I nae bowers,

Towers, or mony a town?

Will not these cure your bonny foot,

Gar you gae hale and soun?'

'Ye hae ha's, and ye hae bowers,

And towers, and mony a town,

But nought will cure my bonny foot,

Gar me gang hale and soun.'

Then in it came her father dear,

And he trips in the fleer:

'Win up, win up, now fair Annie,

What makes your lying here?'

'This morning fair, as I went out,

Near by yon castle wa,

Great and heavy was the stane

That on my foot did fa.'

'Hae I nae ha's, hae I nae bowers,

And towers, and mony a town?

Will not these cure your bonny foot,

Gar you gang hale and soun?'

'O ye hae ha's, and ye hae bowers,

And towers, and mony a town,

But nought will cure my bonny foot,

Gar me gang hale and soun.'

Then in it came her sister Grace;

As she steps in the fleer,

'Win up, win up, now fair Annie,

What makes your lying here?

'Win up, and see your ae brother,

That's new come ower the sea;'

'Ohon, alas!' says fair Annie,

'He spake ower soon wi me.'

To her room her brother's gane,

Stroked back her yellow hair,

To her lips his ain did press,

But words spake never mair.

#a.# Buchan's MSS, I, 120. #b.# The same, II, 141.

The lady's taen her mantle her middle about,

Into the woods she's gane,

. . . . . . .

She hadna poud a flower o gude green-wood,

O never a flower but ane,

Till by he comes, an by he gangs,

Says, Lady, lat alane.

For I am forester o this wood,

And I hae power to pine

Your mantle or your maidenhead,

Which o the twa ye'll twine.

'My mantle is o gude green silk,

Another I can card an spin;

But gin ye tak my maidenhead,

The like I'll never fin.'

He's taen her by the milk-white hand,

And by the grass-green sleeve,

And laid her low at the foot o a tree,

At her high kin spierd nae leave.

'I am bold Burnet's ae daughter,

You might hae lat me be:'

'And I'm bold Burnet's ae dear son,

Then dear! how can this dee?'

'Ye lie, ye lie, ye jolly hind squire,

So loud's I hear you lie!

Bold Burnet has but ae dear son,

He's sailing on the sea.'

'Yesterday, about this same time,

My bonny ship came to land;

I wish she'd sunken in the sea,

And never seen the strand!

'Heal well this deed on me, lady,

Heal well this deed on me!'

'Although I would heal it neer sae well,

Our God above does see.'

She's taen her mantle her middle about,

And mourning went she hame,

And a' the way she sighd full sair,

Crying, Am I to blame!

Ben it came her father dear,

Stout stepping on the flear:

'Win up, win up, my daughter Janet,

And welcome your brother here.'

Up she's taen her milk-white hand,

Streakd by his yellow hair,

Then turnd about her bonny face,

And word spake never mair.

* * * * *

#A. b.#

1^2. fine silken.

1^3. She luikit out at her braw bower window.

#B.#

1^{1,2} _and 2 are joined in the MS._

5^{1,4} _joined with 4. 5^4. ~no leave of thee~, an

emendation by Motherwell, for rhyme._

9^4. He struck: _an emendation_.

10^{3,4} _are joined with 9._

13^3. That bruised by heart.

_After 13 is written_ A stanza wanting.

#D.#

_The first three stanzas are not properly divided in #a#,

and in #b# the first fourteen lines not divided at all._

#a.#

11^2. An stepping.

7^1. _~kind squire~ in both copies._

#b.#

5^4. kin's.

9^1. Heal well, heal well on me, Lady Janet.

11^2. Stout stepping.

12^3. She turned.

YOUNG BEICHAN

#A.# 'Young Bicham,' Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 13, c. 1783.

#B.# 'Young Brechin,' Glenriddell MSS, XI, 80, 1791.

#C.# 'Young Bekie.' #a.# Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 11, c.

1783. #b.# Jamieson's Popular Ballads, II, 127.

#D.# 'Young Beachen,' Skene MSS, p. 70, 1802-1803.

#E.# 'Young Beichan and Susie Pye,' Jamieson's Popular

Ballads, II, 117.

#F.# 'Susan Pye and Lord Beichan,' Pitcairn's MSS, III,

159.

#G.# Communicated by Mr Alex. Laing, of Newburgh-on-Tay.

#H.# 'Lord Beichan and Susie Pye,' Kinloch's Ancient

Scottish Ballads, p. 260.

#I.# Communicated by Mr David Loudon, Morham, Haddington.

#J.# Dr Joseph Robertson's Note-Book, 'Adversaria,' p. 85.

#K.# Communicated by Mr David Loudon.

#L.# The Loving Ballad of Lord Bateman. Illustrated by

George Cruikshank, 1839.

#M.# 'Young Bondwell,' Buchan's MSS, I, 18. J. H. Dixon,

Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads, p. 1.

#N.# 'Susan Py, or Young Bichen's Garland.' #a.# Falkirk,

printed by T. Johnston, 1815. #b.# Stirling, M. Randall.

#A#, #B#, #D#, #F#, and the fragment #G# now appear for the first time

in print, and the same is true of #I#, #J#, #K#, which are of less

account. #C a# is here given according to the manuscript, without

Jamieson's "collations." Of #E# and #C b# Jamieson says: This ballad and

that which succeeds it are given from copies taken from Mrs Brown's

recitation,[403] collated with two other copies procured from Scotland;

one in MS.; another, very good, one printed for the stalls; a third, in

the possession of the late Reverend Jonathan Boucher, of Epsom, taken

from recitation in the north of England; and a fourth, about one third

as long as the others, which the editor picked off an old wall in

Piccadilly. #L#, the only English copy, was derived from the singing of

a London vagrant. It is, says Dixon, the common English broadsheet

"turned into the dialect of Cockaigne."[404] #M# was probably a

broadside or stall copy, and is certainly of that quality, but preserves

a very ancient traditional feature.

#D# and #M#, besides the name Linne, have in common a repetition of the

song, a trait which we also find in one version of 'The Heir of

Linne;'[405] see Dixon's Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient

Ballads, p. 30, stanzas 2-6, Percy Society, vol. XVII.

In Bell's Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry of England,

p. 68, it is remarked that #L#, "the only ancient form in which the

ballad has existed in print," is one of the publications mentioned in

one of Thackeray's catalogues of broadsides. The 'Bateman,' in

Thackeray's list, is the title of an entirely different ballad, 'A

Warning for Maidens, or Young Bateman,' reprinted from the Roxburghe

collection by W. Chappell, III, 193.