{"collection":"Northern European Mythology","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/neu/eng/child/ch072.htm","path":"neu/eng/child/ch072.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/neu/eng/child/ch072.htm","text":"72A.1 O I will sing to you a sang,\nBut oh my heart is sair!\nThe clerk\u2019s twa sons in Owsenford\nHas to learn some unco lair.\n72A.2 They hadna been in fair Parish\nA twelvemonth an a day,\nTill the clerk\u2019s twa sons o Owsenford\nWi the mayor\u2019s twa dauthrers lay.\n72A.3 O word\u2019s gaen to the mighty mayor,\nAs he saild on the sea,\nThat the clerk\u2019s twa sons o Owsenford\nWi his twa daughters lay.\n72A.4 \u2018If they hae lain wi my twa daughters,\nMeg an Marjorie,\nThe morn, or I taste meat or drink,\nThey shall be hangit hie.\u2019\n72A.5 O word\u2019s gaen to the clerk himself,\nAs he sat drinkin wine,\nThat his twa sons in fair Parish\nWere bound in prison strong.\n72A.6 Then up and spak the clerk\u2019s ladye,\nAnd she spak powrfully:\n\u2018O tak with ye a purse of gold,\nOr take with ye three,\nAnd if ye canna get William,\nBring Andrew hame to me.\u2019\n* * * * *\n72A.7 \u2018O lye ye here for owsen, dear sons,\nOr lie ye here for kye?\nOr what is it that ye lie for,\nSae sair bound as ye lie?\u2019\n72A.8 \u2018We lie not here for owsen, dear father,\nNor yet lie here for kye,\nBut it\u2019s for a little o dear bought love\nSae sair bound as we lie.\u2019\n72A.9 O he\u2019s gane to the mighty mayor,\nAnd he spoke powerfully:\n\u2018Will ye grant me my twa sons\u2019 lives,\nEither for gold or fee?\nOr will ye be sae gude a man\nAs grant them baith to me?\u2019\n72A.10 \u2018I\u2019ll no grant ye yere twa sons\u2019 lives,\nNeither for gold or fee,\nNor will I be sae gude a man\nAs gie them back to thee;\nBefore the morn at twelve o\u2019clock\nYe\u2019ll see them hangit hie.\u2019\n72A.11 Up an spak his twa daughters,\nAn they spak powrfully:\n\u2018Will ye grant us our twa loves\u2019 lives,\nEither for gold or fee?\nOr will ye be sae gude a man\nAs grant them baith to me.\u2019\n72A.12 \u2018I\u2019ll no grant ye yere twa loves\u2019 lives,\nNeither for gold or fee,\nNor will I be sae gude a man\nAs grant their lives to thee;\nBefore the morn at twelve o\u2019clock\nYe\u2019ll see them hangit hie.\u2019\n72A.13 O he\u2019s taen out these proper youths,\nAnd hangd them on a tree,\nAnd he\u2019s bidden the clerk o Owsenford\nGang hame to his ladie.\n72A.14 His lady sits on yon castle-wa,\nBeholding dale an doun,\nAn there she saw her ain gude lord\nCome walkin to the toun.\n72A.15 \u2018Ye\u2019re welcome, welcome, my ain gude lord,\nYe\u2019re welcome hame to me;\nBut where away are my twa sons?\nYe should hae brought them wi ye.\u2019\n72A.16 \u2018It\u2019s I\u2019ve putten them to a deeper lair,\nAn to a higher schule;\nYere ain twa sons ill no be here\nTill the hallow days o Yule.\u2019\n72A.17 \u2018O sorrow, sorrow come mak my bed,\nAn dool come lay me doon!\nFor I\u2019ll neither eat nor drink,\nNor set a fit on ground.\u2019\n72B: The Clerk\u2019s Twa Sons o Owensford\n72B.1 DE weel, de weel, my twa young sons,\nAn learn weel at the squeel;\nTak no up wi young women-kin,\nAn learn to act the feel.\u2019\n72B.2 But they had na been in Blomsbury\nA twalmon and a day,\nTill the twa pretty clerks o Owsenfoord\nWi the mayr\u2019s dauchters did lay.\n72B.3 Word has gaen till the auld base mayr,\nAs he sat at his wine,\nThat the twa pretty clerks o Owsenford\nWi his daughters had lien.\n72B.4 Then out bespak the auld base mayr,\nAn an angry man was he:\n\u2018Tomorrow, before I eat meat or drink,\nI\u2019ll see them hanged hie.\u2019\n72B.5 But word has gaen to Owsenfoord\n. . . . .\nBefore the letter was read,\nShe let the tears doun fa.\n* * * * *\n72B.6 \u2018Your sons are weel, an verra weel,\nAn learnin at the squeel;\nBut I fear ye winna see your sons\nAt the holy days o Yeel.\u2019\n72B.7 Their father he went to Bloomsbury,\nHe turnit him roun about,\nAn there he saw his twa braw sons,\nIn the prison, leukin out.\n72B.8 \u2018O lie ye there for owsen, my sons,\nOr lie ye there for kye?\nOr lie ye there for dear fond love,\nSi closs as ye de lie?\u2019\n72B.9 \u2018We lie na here for owsen, father,\nWe lie na here for kye,\nBut we lie here for dear fond love,\nAn we\u2019re condemned to die.\u2019\n* * * * *\n72B.10 Then out bespak the clerks\u2019 fader,\nAn a sorry man was he:\n\u2018Gae till you bowers, ye lillie-flowers,\nFor a\u2019 this winna dee.\u2019\n72B.11 Then out bespak the aul base mayr,\nAn an angry man was he:\n\u2018Gar to your bowers, ye vile base whores,\nYe\u2019ll see them hanged hie.\u2019\n* * * * *\n72C: The Clerk\u2019s Twa Sons o Owensford\n72C.1 IRR\u2019rrLL tell you a tale, or I\u2019ll sing you a song,\nWill grieve your heart full sair;\nHow the twa bonny clerks o Oxenford\nWent aff to learn their lear.\n72C.2 Their father lovd them very weel,\nTheir mother muckle mair,\nAnd sent them on to Billsbury,\nTo learn deeper lear.\n72C.3 Then out it spake their mother dear:\n\u2018Do weel, my sons, do weel,\nAnd haunt not wi the young women,\nWi them to play the fiel.\u2019\n72C.4 Their father sware them on their souls,\nTheir mother on their life,\nNever to lie wi the auld mayor\u2019s daughters,\nNor kiss the young mayor\u2019s wife.\n72C.5 But they hadna been in Billsbury\nA twallmonth and a day,\nTill the twa bonny clerks o Oxenford\nWith the mayor\u2019s twa daughters lay.\n72C.6 As these twa clerks they sat and wrote,\nThe ladies sewed and sang;\nThere was mair mirth in that chamber\nThan all fair Ferrol\u2019s land.\n72C.7 But word\u2019s gane to the wicked mayor,\nAs he sat at the wine,\nThat the twa bonny clerks o Oxenford\nWith his twa daughters had lyne.\n72C.8 \u2018O have they lain with my daughters dear,\nHeirs out ower a\u2019 my land,\nThe morn, ere I eat or drink,\nI\u2019ll hang them with my hand.\u2019\n72C.9 Then he has taen the twa bonny clerks,\nBound them frae tap to tae,\nTill the reddest blood in their body\nOut ower their nails did gae.\n72C.10 \u2018Whare will I get a little wee boy,\nWill win gowd to his fee,\nThat will rin on to Oxenford,\nAnd that right speedilie?\u2019\n72C.11 Then up it starts a bonny boy,\nGold yellow was his hair;\nI wish his father and mother joy,\nHis true-love muckle mair.\n72C.12 Says, Here am I, a little wee boy,\nWill win gowd to my fee,\nThat will rin on to Oxenford,\nAnd that right speedilie.\n72C.13 \u2018Where ye find the grass green growing,\nSet down your heel and rin,\nAnd where ye find the brigs broken,\nYe\u2019ll bend your bow and swim.\n72C.14 \u2018But when ye come to Oxenford,\nBide neither to chap nor ca,\nBut set your bent bow to your breast,\nAnd lightly loup the wa.\u2019\n72C.15 Where he found the grass green growing,\nHe slackt his shoes and ran,\nAnd where he found the brigs broken,\nHe bent his bow and swam.\n72C.16 And when he came to Oxenford,\nDid neither chap nor ca,\nBut set his bent bow to his breast,\nAnd lightly leapt the wa.\n72C.17 \u2018What news, what news, my little wee boy?\nWhat news hae ye to me?\nHow are my sons in Billsbury,\nSince they went far frae me?\u2019\n72C.18 \u2018Your sons are well, and learning well,\nBut at a higher school,\nAnd ye\u2019ll never see your sons again.\nOn the holy days o Yule.\u2019\n72C.19 \u2018Wi sorrow now gae make my bed,\nWi care and caution lay me down;\nThat man on earth shall neer be born\nShall see me mair gang on the groun.\n72C.20 \u2018Take twenty pounds in your pocket,\nAnd ten and ten to tell them wi,\nAnd gin ye getna hynde Henry,\nBring ye gay Gilbert hame to me.\u2019\n72C.21 Out it speaks old Oxenford,\nA sorry, sorry man, was he:\nOut it speaks old Oxenford,\nA sorry, sorry man, was he:\n\u2018Your strange wish does me surprise,\nThey are baith there alike to me.\n72C.22 \u2018Wi sorrow now I\u2019ll saddle my horse,\nAnd I will gar my bridle ring,\nAnd I shall be at Billsbury\nBefore the small birds sweetly sing.\u2019\n72C.23 Then sweetly sang the nightingale,\nAs she sat on the wand,\nBut sair, sair, mournd Oxenford,\nAs he gaed in the strand.\n72C.24 When he came to Billsbury,\nHe rade it round about,\nAnd at a little shott-window\nHis sons were looking out.\n72C.25 \u2018O lye ye there, my sons,\u2019 he said,\n\u2018For oxen, or for kye?\nOr is it for a little o deep dear love,\nSae sair bound as ye lye?\u2019\n72C.26 \u2018We lye not here, father,\u2019 they said,\n\u2018For oxen, nor for kye;\nIt\u2019s all for a little o deep dear love,\nSae sair bound as we lye.\n72C.27 \u2018O borrow\u2019s, borrow\u2019s, father,\u2019 they said,\n\u2018For the love we bear to thee!\u2019\n\u2018O never fear, my pretty sons,\nWell borrowed ye shall be.\u2019\n72C.28 Then he\u2019s gane to the wicked mayor,\nAnd hailed him courteouslie:\n\u2018Good day, good day, O Billsbury,\nGod make you safe and free!\u2019\n\u2018Come sit you down, brave Oxenford,\nGod make you safe and free!\u2019\n\u2018Come sit you down, brave Oxenford,\nWhat are your wills with me?\u2019\n72C.29 \u2018Will ye gie me my sons again,\nFor gold or yet for fee?\nWill ye gie me my sons again,\nFor\u2019s sake that died on tree?\u2019\n72C.30 \u2018I winna gie you your sons again,\nFor gold nor yet for fee;\nBut if ye\u2019ll stay a little while,\nYe\u2019se see them hanged hie.\u2019\n72C.31 Ben it came the mayor\u2019s daughters,\nWi kirtle, coat alone;\nTheir eyes did sparkle like the gold,\nAs they tript on the stone.\n72C.32 \u2018Will ye gie us our loves, father,\nFor gold or yet for fee?\nOr will ye take our own sweet life,\nAnd let our true-loves be?\u2019\n72C.33 He\u2019s taen a whip into his hand,\nAnd lashed them wondrous sair:\nGae to your bowers, ye vile rank whores,\nYe\u2019se never see them mair.\n72C.34 Then out it speaks old Oxenford,\nA sorry man was he:\n\u2018Gang to your bowers, ye lily-flowers,\nFor a\u2019 this maunna be.\u2019\n72C.35 Out it speaks him hynde Henry:\n\u2018Come here, Janet, to me;\nWill ye gie me my faith and troth,\nAnd love, as I gae thee?\u2019\n72C.36 \u2018Ye shall hae your faith and troth,\nWi God\u2019s blessing and mine;\u2019\nAnd twenty times she kissd his mouth,\nHer father looking on.\n72C.37 Then out it speaks him gay Gilbert:\n\u2018Come here, Margaret, to me;\nWill ye gie me my faith and troth,\nAnd love, as I gae thee?\u2019\n72C.38 \u2018Yes, ye shall get your faith and troth,\nWi God\u2019s blessing and mine;\u2019\nAnd twenty times she kissd his mouth,\nHer father looking on.\n72C.39 \u2018Ye\u2019ll take aff your twa black hats,\nLay them down on a stone,\nThat nane may ken that ye are clerks\nTill ye are putten down.\u2019\n72C.40 The bonny clerks they died that morn,\nTheir loves died lang ere noon;\nTheir father and mother for sorrow died,\nThey all died very soon.\n72C.41 These six souls went up to heaven,\nI wish sae may we a\u2019!\nThe mighty mayor went down to hell,\nFor wrong justice and law.\n72D: The Clerk\u2019s Twa Sons o Owensford\n72D.1 OH I will tell a tale of woe,\nWhich makes my heart richt sair;\nThe Clerk\u2019s two sons of Oxenfoord\nAre too soon gone to lair.\n72D.2 They thought their father\u2019s service mean,\nTheir mother\u2019s no great affair;\nBut they would go to fair Berwick,\nTo learn [some] unco lair.\n72D.3 They had not been in fair Berwick\nA twelve month and a day,\nTill the clerk\u2019s two sons of Oxenfoord\nWith the mayor\u2019s two daughters lay.\n72D.4 This word came to the mighty mayor,\nAs he hunted the rae,\nThat the clerks two sons of Oxenfoord\nWith his two daughters lay.\n72D.5 \u2018If they have lain with my daughters,\nThe heirs of all my land,\nI make a vow, and will keep it true,\nTo hang them with my hand.\u2019\n72D.6 When he was certain of the fact,\nAn angry man was he,\nAnd he has taken these two brothers,\nAnd hanged them on the tree.\n72D.7 Word it has come to Oxenfoord\u2019s clerk,\nEre it was many day,\nThat his two sons sometime ago\nWith the mayor\u2019s two daughters lay.\n72D.8 \u2018O saddle a horse to me,\u2019 he cried,\n\u2018O do it quick and soon,\nThat I may ride to fair Berwick,\nAnd see what can be done.\u2019\n72D.9 But when he came to fair Berwick\nA grieved man was he,\nWhen that he saw his two bonnie sons\nBoth hanging on the tree.\n72D.10 \u2018O woe is me,\u2019 the clerk cried out,\n\u2018This dismal sight to see,\nAll the whole comfort of my life\nDead hanging on the tree!\u2019\n72D.11 He turned his horse\u2019s head about,\nMaking a piteous moan,\nAnd all the way to Oxenfoord\nDid sad and grievously groan.\n72D.12 His wife did hastily cry out,\n\u2018You only do I see;\nWhat have you done with my two sons,\nYou should have brought to me?\u2019\n72D.13 \u2018I put them to some higher lair,\nAnd to a deeper scule;\nYou will not see your bonnie sons\nTill the haly days of Yule.\n72D.14 \u2018And I will spend my days in grief,\nWill never laugh nor sing;\nThere\u2019s never a man in Oxenfoord\nShall hear my bridle ring.\u2019","title":"The Child Ballads: 72. The Clerk's Twa Sons o Owensford","type":"page"}