P. 356 a, III, 517 a. Add: (18) ‘La Fille dans la Tour,’ Daymard, Vieux
Chants p. rec. en Quercy, p. 174 ; (19) ‘La belle dans la Tour,’ Pas de
Calais, communicated by M. G. Doncieux to Revue des Traditions
populaires, VI, 603 ; (20) ‘Belle Idoine,’ Questionnaire de Folklore,
publié par la Société du Folklore Wallon, p. 79.
M. Doucieux has attempted a reconstruction of the text in Mélusine, V,
265 ff. He cites M. Gaston Paris as having lately pointed out a striking
similitude between the first half of the French popular ballad and that
of a little romance of Bele Ydoine composed in the twelfth century by
Audefrois le Bastars (Bartsch, Altfranzösische Romanzen und
Pastourellen, p. 59, No 57). This resemblance has, I suppose, occasioned
the title of ‘Belle Idoine’ to be given editorially to No 20 above, for
the name does not occur in the ballad.
356 b, III, 517 a. Add: ‘Au Jardin des Olives,’ Guillon, p. 83, ‘Dessous
le Rosier blanc,’ Daymard, p. 171 (Les trois Capitaines). A girl feigns
death to avoid becoming a king’s mistress, ‘Hertig Henrik och Konungen,’
Lagus, Nyländska Folkvisor, I, 117, No 37.
363. #E.# The following is the MS. copy, “of some antiquity,” from which
#E# was in part constructed. (Whether it be the original or a transcript
cannot be determined, but Mr Macmath informs me that the paper on which
it is written “seems about the oldest sheet in the volume.”) The text
was freely handled. ‘Lord William’ does not occur in it, but the name is
found in another version which follows this.
“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 146 a, Abbotsford.
1
‘O waly, waly, my gay goss-hawk,
Gin your feathering be sheen!’
‘O waly, waly, my master dear,
Gin ye look pale and lean!
2
‘Whether is it for the gold sae rid,
Or is it for the silver clear?
Or is it for the lass in southen land,
That she cannot win here.’
3
‘It is not for the gold sae rid,
Nor is it for the silver clear,
But it is for the lass in southen land,
That she cannot win her[e].’
4
‘Sit down, sit down, my master dear,
Write a love-letter hastily,
And put it in under my feathern gray,
And I’ll away to southen land as fast as I can flee.
5
‘But how shall I your true-love ken?
Or how shall I her know?
I bear the tongue never wi her spake,
The eye that never her saw.’
6
‘The red that is in my love’s cheek
Is like blood spilt amang the snaw;
The white that is on her breast-bone
Is like the down on the white sea-maw.
7
‘There’s one that stands at my love’s gate
And opens the silver pin,
And there ye may safely set ye on
And sing a lovely song.
8
‘First ye may sing it loud, loud, loud,
And then ye may sing it clear,
And ay the oerword of the tune
Is, Your love cannot win here.’
9
He has written a love-letter,
Put it under his feathern gray,
And he’s awa to southen land,
As fast as ever he may.
10
When he came to the lady’s gate,
There he lighted down,
And there he sat him on the pin
And sang a lovely song.
11
First he sang it loud, loud, loud,
And then he sang it clear,
And ay the oerword of the tune
Was, Your love cannot win here.
12
‘Hold your tongues, my merry maids all,
And hold them a little while;
I hear some word from my true-love,
That lives in Scotland’s isle.’
13
Up she rose, to the door she goes,
To hear what the bird woud say,
And he’s let the love-letter fall
From under his feathern gray.
14
When she looked the letter on,
The tear blinded her eye,
And when she read it oer and oer
A loud laughter took she.
15
‘Go hame, go hame, my bonny bird,
And to your master tell,
If I be nae wi him at Martinmass,
I shall be wi him at Yule.’
16
The lady’s to her chamber gane,
And a sick woman grew she;
The lady’s taen a sudden brash,
And nathing she’ll do but die.
17
‘An asking, an asking, my father dear,
An asking grant to me!
If that I die in southen land,
In Scotland bury me.’
18
‘Ask on, ask on, my daughter dear,
That asking is granted thee;
If that you die in southen land,
In Scotland I’ll bury thee.’
19
‘Gar call to me my seven bretheren,
To hew to me my bier,
The one half of the beaten gold,
The other of the silver clear.
20
‘Go call to me my seven sisters,
To sew to me my caul;
Every needle-steik that they put in
Put by a silver bell.’
21
The first Scots kirk that they came to,
They heard the mavis sing;
The next Scots kirk that they came to,
They heard the dead-bell ring.
22
The next Scots kirk that they came to,
They were playing at the foot-ball,
And her true-love was them among,
The chieftian amangst them all.
23
‘Set down, set down these corps,’ said he,
‘Let me look them upon;’
As soon as he lookd the lady on,
The blood sprang in her chin.
24
‘One bite of your bread, my love,
And one glass of your wine!
For I have fasted these five long days,
All for your sake and mine.
25
‘Go hame, go hame, my seven brothers,
Go hame and blaw your horn,
And ye may tell thro southen land
How I playd you the scorn.’
26
‘Woe to you, my sister dear,
And ane ill death may you die!
For we left father and mother at hame
Breaking their heart for thee.’
The Ettrick Shepherd sent Scott the following stanzas to be inserted in
the first edition at places indicated. Most of them are either
absolutely base metal or very much worn by circulation. The clever
contrivance for breathing (found also in #G# 39, #H# 19) and the bribing
of the surgeon provoke scorn and resentment.
‘Gay Gos Hawk,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No
143, No 133 a, Abbotsford; in the handwriting of James Hogg.
After 12 of ed. 1802 (E 13):
He happit off the flowry birk,
Sat down on the yett-pin,
And sang sae sweet the notes o love
Till a’ was coush within.
After 15 (E 16):
‘O ye maun send your love a kiss,
For he has sent you three;
O ye maun send your love a kiss,
And ye maun send it wi me.’
‘He has the rings off my fingers,
The garland off my hair;
He has the heart out o my bouk,
What can I send him mair?’
After 22:
‘The third Scotts kirk that ye gang to
Ye’s gar them blaw the horn,
That a’ the lords o fair Scotland
May hear afore the morn.’
After 23:
She wyld a wright to bore her chest,
For caller air she’d need;
She brib’d her surgeon wi the goud
To say that she was dead.
After 25:
‘What ails, what ails my daughter dear
Her colour bides sae fine?’
The surgeon-lad reply’d again,
She’s nouther pin’d nor lien.
After 30:
The third Scotts kirk that they cam to,
Sae loud they blew the horn,
An a’ the lads on yon water
Was warnd afore the morn.
After 31:
‘Set down, set down the bier,’ he said,
‘These comely corps I’ll see;’
‘Away, away,’ her brothers said,
‘For nae sick thing shall be.
‘Her een are sunk, her lips are cold,
Her rosy colour gane;
‘T is nine lang nights an nine lang days
Sin she deceasd at hame.’
‘Wer’t nine times nine an nine times nine,
My true-love’s face I’ll see;
Set down the bier, or here I swear
My prisners you shall be.’
He drew the nails frae the coffin,
An liftit up the cone,
An for a’ sae lang as she’d been dead
She smil’d her love upon.
After 35:
‘And tell my father he sent me
To rot in Scotland’s clay;
But he sent me to my Willie,
To be his lady gay.’
* * * * *
H
“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 28 b, Abbotsford;
in the handwriting of William Laidlaw.
1
Lord William was walkin i the garden green,
Viewin the roses red,
An there he spyed his bonnie spier-hawk,
Was fleein aboon his head.
2
‘O could ye speak, my bonnie spier-hawk,
As ye hae wings to flee,
Then ye wad carry a luve-letter
Atween my love an me.’
3
‘But how can I your true-love ken?
Or how can I her know?
Or how can I your true-love ken,
The face I never saw?’
4
‘Ye may esily my love ken
Amang them ye never saw;
The red that’s on o my love’s cheek
Is like bluid drapt on the snaw.’
* * * * * *
5
‘O what will be my meat, master?
An what’ll be my fee?
An what will be the love-tokens
That ye will send wi me?’
6
‘Ye may tell my love I’ll send her a kiss,
A kiss, aye, will I three;
If ever she come [to] fair Scotland,
My wedded wife she’s be.
7
‘Ye may tell my love I’ll send her a kiss,
A kiss, aye, will I twae;
An ever she come to fair Scotland,
I the red gold she sall gae.’
* * * * * *
8
The hawk flew high, an she flew leugh,
An south aneath the sun,
Untill it cam, etc.
9
‘Sit still, sit still, my six sisters,
An sew your silken seam,
Till I gae to my bower-window
An hear yon Scottish bird sing.’
10
Than she flew high, an she flew leugh,
An’ far aboon the wa;
She drapit to that ladie’s side,
An loot the letter fa.
11
‘What news, what news, my bonnie burd?
An what word carry ye?
An what are a’ the love-tokens
My love has sent to me?’
12
‘O ye may send your love a kiss,
For he has sent ye three;
Ye hae the heart within his buik,
What mair can he send thee?’
13
‘O I will send my love a kiss,
A kiss, I, will I three;
If I can win to fair Scotland,
His wedded wife I’ll be.
14
‘O I will send my love a kiss,
An the caim out o my hair;
He has the heart that’s in my buik,
What can I send him mair?
15
‘An gae yer ways, my bonnie burd,
An tell my love frae me,
If [I] be na there gin Martinmas,
Gin Yool I there will be.’
* * * * * *
16
’Twas up an spak her ill step-minnie,
An ill deed may she die!
‘Yer daughter Janet’s taen her bed,
An she’ll do nought but die.’
17
‘An askin, an askin, dear father,
An askin I crave o thee;
If I should die just at this time,
In Scotland burry me.’
18
‘There’s room enough in wide England
To burry thee an me;
But sould ye die, my dear daughter,
I Scotland I’ll burry thee.’
19
She’s warnd the wrights in lilly Londeen,
She’s warnd them ane an a’,
To mak a kist wi three windows,
The cauler air to blaw.
20
‘O will ye gae, my six sisters,
An sew to me a sheet,
The tae half o the silk sae fine,
The tother o cambric white.’
21
Then they hae askit the surgeon at, etc.
22
Then said her cruel step-minnie,
Take ye the boilin lead
An some o ‘t drap on her bosom;
We’ll see gif she be dead.
23
Then boilin lead than they hae taen
An drappit on her breast;
‘Alas! alas!’ than her father he cried,
‘For she’s dead without the priest!’
24
She neither chatterd in her teeth
Nor shivert wi her chin;
‘Alas! alas!’ her father cried,
‘For there nae life within!’
* * * * * *
25
‘It’s nine lang days, an nine lang nights,
She’s wantit meat for me;
But for nine days, nine langer nights,
Her face ye salna see.’
26
He’s taen the coffin wi his fit,
Gard it in flinders flie, etc.
27
‘Fetch me,’ she said, ‘a cake o yer bread
An a wi drap o your wine,
For luve o you an for your sake
I’ve fastit lang nights nine.’
28
’Twas up then spak an eldrin knight,
A grey-haird knight was he;
‘Now ye hae left yer auld father,
For you he’s like to die.
29
‘An ye hae left yer sax sisters
Lamentin a’ for you;
I wiss that this, my dear ladie,
Ye near may hae to rue.’
30
‘Commend me to my auld father,
If eer ye come him niest;
But nought say to my ill step-minnie.
Gard burn me on the breist.
31
‘Commend me to my six sisters,
If ye gang bak again;
But nought say to my ill step-minnie,
Gard burn me on the chin.
32
‘Commend me to my brethren bald,
An ever ye them see;
If ever they come to fair Scotland
They’s fare nae war than me.
33
‘For I cam na to fair Scotland
To lie amang the dead,
But I cam down to fair Scotland
To wear goud on my head.
34
‘Nor did I come to fair Scotland
To rot amang the clay,
But I cam to fair Scotland
To wear goud ilka day.’
10^2. _Var._ aboon them a’.
367 b. The second edition of the Minstrelsy, 1803, II, 6, inserted 13,
from Hogg’s communication, substituted 22, 23, 24 of Laidlaw’s (#H#) for
27, 28, introduced 30 of Laidlaw after 36 (all with changes), and made
the consequently necessary alteration in 37.