{"collection":"Northern European Mythology","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/neu/eng/child/ch071.htm","path":"neu/eng/child/ch071.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/neu/eng/child/ch071.htm","text":"71.1 \u2018THERE are sixteen lang miles, I\u2019m sure,\nBetween my love and me;\nThere are eight o them in gude dry land,\nAnd other eight by sea.\n71.2 \u2018Betide me life, betide me death,\nMy love I\u2019ll gang and see;\nAltho her friends they do me hate,\nHer love is great for me.\n71.3 \u2018If my coat I\u2019ll make a boat,\nAnd o my sark a sail,\nAnd o my cane a gude tapmast,\nDry land till I come till.\u2019\n71.4 Then o his coat he\u2019s made a boat,\nAnd o his sark a sail;\nAnd o his cane a gude tapmast,\nDry land till he came till.\n71.5 He is on to Annie\u2019s bower-door,\nAnd tirled at the pin:\n\u2018O sleep ye, wake ye, my love, Annie,\nYe\u2019ll rise, lat me come in.\u2019\n71.6 \u2018O who is this at my bower-door,\nSae well that kens my name?\u2019\n\u2018It is your true-love, Sweet Willie,\nFor you I\u2019ve crossd the faem.\u2019\n71.7 \u2018I am deeply sworn, Willie,\nBy father and by mother;\nAt kirk or market where we meet,\nWe darna own each other.\n71.8 \u2018And I am deeply sworn, Willie,\nBy my bauld brothers three;\nAt kirk or market where we meet,\nI darna speak to thee.\u2019\n71.9 \u2018Ye take your red fan in your hand,\nYour white fan ower your een,\nAnd ye may swear, and save your oath,\nYe sawna me come in.\n71.10 \u2018Ye take me in your arms twa,\nAnd carry me to your bed;\nAnd ye may swear, and save your oath,\nYour bower I never tread.\u2019\n71.11 She\u2019s taen her red fan in her hand,\nThe white fan ower her een;\nIt was to swear, and save her oath,\nShe sawna him come in.\n71.12 She\u2019s taen him in her arms twa,\nAnd carried him to her bed;\nIt was to swear, and save her oath,\nHer bower he never tread.\n71.13 They hadna kissd, nor love clapped,\nAs lovers do when they meet,\nTill up it waukens her mother,\nOut o her drowsy sleep.\n71.14 \u2018Win up, win up, my three bauld sons,\nWin up and make ye boun;\nYour sister\u2019s lover\u2019s in her bower,\nAnd he\u2019s but new come in.\u2019\n71.15 Then up it raise her three bauld sons,\nAnd girt to them their brand,\nAnd they are to their sister\u2019s bower,\nAs fast as they coud gang.\n71.16 When they came to their sister\u2019s bower,\nThey sought it up and down;\nBut there was neither man nor boy\nIn her bower to be foun.\n71.17 n out it speaks the first o them:\n\u2018We\u2019ll gang and lat her be;\nFor there is neither man nor boy\nIntill her companie.\u2019\n71.18 Then out it speaks the second son:\n\u2018Our travel\u2019s a\u2019 in vain;\nBut mother dear, nor father dear,\nShall break our rest again.\u2019\n71.19 Then out it speaks the third o them,\nAn ill death mat he die!\n\u2018We\u2019ll lurk amang the bent sae brown,\nThat Willie we may see.\u2019\n71.20 He stood behind his love\u2019s curtains,\nHis goud rings showd him light;\nAnd by this ye may a\u2019 weell guess\nHe was a renowned knight.\n71.21 He\u2019s done him to his love\u2019s stable,\nTook out his berry-brown steed;\nHis love stood in her bower-door,\nHer heart was like to bleed.\n71.22 \u2018O mourn ye for my coming, love?\nOr for my short staying?\nOr mourn ye for our safe sindring,\nCase we never meet again?\u2019\n71.23 \u2018I mourn nae for your here coming,\nNor for your staying lang;\nNor mourn I for our safe sindring,\nI hope we\u2019ll meet again.\n71.24 \u2018I wish ye may won safe away,\nAnd safely frae the town;\nFor ken you not my brothers three\nAre mang the bent sae brown?\u2019\n71.25 \u2018If I were on my berry-brown steed,\nAnd three miles frae the town,\nI woudna fear your three bauld brothers,\nAmang the bent sae brown.\u2019\n71.26 He leint him ower his saddle-bow,\nAnd kissd her lips sae sweet;\nThe tears that fell between these twa,\nThey wat his great steed\u2019s feet.\n71.27 But he wasna on his berry-brown steed,\nNor twa miles frae the town,\nTill up it starts these three fierce men,\nAmang the bent sae brown.\n71.28 Then up they came like three fierce men,\nWi mony shout and cry:\n\u2018Bide still, bide still, ye cowardly youth,\nWhat makes your haste away?\n71.29 \u2018For I must know before you go,\nTell me, and make nae lie;\nIf ye\u2019ve been in my sister\u2019s bower,\nMy hands hall gar ye die.\u2019\n71.30 \u2018Tho I\u2019ve been in your sister\u2019s bower,\nI have nae fear o thee;\nI\u2019ll stand my ground, and fiercly fight,\nAud shall gain victorie.\u2019\n71.31 \u2018Now I entreat you for to stay,\nUnto us gie a wad;\nIf ye our words do not obey,\nI\u2019se gar your body bleed.\u2019\n71.32 \u2018I have nae wad, says Sweet Willie,\nUnless it be my brand,\nAnd that shall guard my fair body,\nTill I win frae your hand.\u2019\n71.33 Then two o them stept in behind,\nAll in a furious meed;\nThe third o them came him before,\nAnd seizd his berry-brown steed.\n71.34 O then he drew his trusty brand,\nThat hang down by his gare,\nAnd he has slain these three fierce men,\nAnd left them sprawling there.\n71.35 Then word has gane to her mother,\nIn bed where she slept soun,\nThat Willie had killd her three bauld sons,\nAmang the bent sae brown.\n71.36 Then she has cut the locks that hung\nSae low down by her ee,\nSae has she kiltit her green claithing\nA little aboon her knee.\n71.37 And she has on to the king\u2019s court,\nAs fast as gang coud she;\nWhen Fair Annie got word o that,\nWas there as soon as she.\n71.38 Her mother, when before the king,\nFell low down on her knee;\n\u2018Win up, win up, my dame,\u2019 he said,\n\u2018What is your will wi me?\u2019\n71.39 \u2018My wills they are not sma, my liege,\nThe truth I\u2019ll tell to thee;\nThere is ane o your courtly knights\nLast night hae robbed me.\u2019\n71.40 \u2018And has he broke your bigly bowers?\nOr has he stole your fee?\nThere is nae knight into my court\nLast night has been frae me;\n71.41 \u2018Unless \u2019twas Willie o Lauderdale,\nForbid that it be he!\u2019\n\u2018And by my sooth,\u2019 says the auld woman,\n\u2018That very man is he.\n71.42 \u2018For he has broke my bigly bowers,\nAnd he has stole my fee,\nAnd made my daughter Ann a whore,\nAnd an ill woman is she.\n71.43 \u2018That was not all he did to me,\nEre he went frae the town;\nMy sons sae true he fiercly slew,\nAmang the bent sae brown.\u2019\n71.44 Then out it spake her daughter Ann,\nShe stood by the king\u2019s knee:\n\u2018Ye lie, ye lie, my mother dear,\nSae loud\u2019s I hear you lie.\n71.45 \u2018He has not broke your bigly bowers,\nNor has he stole your fee,\nNor made your daughter Ann a whore;\nA good woman I\u2019ll be.\n71.46 \u2018Altho he slew your three bauld sons,\nHe weel might be forgien;\nThey were well clad in armour bright,\nWhan my love was him lane.\u2019\n71.47 \u2018Well spoke, well spoke,\u2019 the king replied,\n\u2018This tauking pleases me;\nFor ae kiss o your lovely mouth,\nI\u2019ll set your true-love free.\u2019\n71.48 She\u2019s taen the king in her arms,\nAnd kissd him cheek and chin;\nHe then set her behind her love,\nAnd they went singing hame.","title":"The Child Ballads: 71. The Bent Sae Brown","type":"page"}