{"collection":"Northern European Mythology","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/neu/eng/child/ch087.htm","path":"neu/eng/child/ch087.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/neu/eng/child/ch087.htm","text":"Sacred Texts\u00a0\n Legends & Sagas\u00a0\n England\u00a0\n Index\u00a0\n Previous\u00a0\n Next\u00a0\n \n \n \n 87A: Prince Robert\n \n \n 87A.1\tPRINCE ROBERT has wedded a gay ladye,\n He has wedded her with a ring;\n Prince Robert has wedded a gay ladye,\n But he daur na bring her hame.\n 87A.2\t\u2018Your blessing, your blessing, my mother dear,\n Your blessing now grant to me!\u2019\n \u2018Instead of a blessing ye sall have my curse,\n And you\u2019ll get nae blessing frae me.\u2019\n 87A.3\tShe has called upon her waiting-maid,\n To fill a glass of wine;\n She has called upon her fause steward,\n To put rank poison in.\n 87A.4\tShe has put it to her roudes lip,\n And to her roudes chin;\n She has put it to her fause, fause mouth,\n But the never a drop gaed in.\n 87A.5\tHe has put it to his bonny mouth,\n And to his bonny chin,\n He\u2019s put it to his cherry lip,\n And sae fast the rank poison ran in.\n 87A.6\t\u2018O ye hae poisoned your ae son, mother,\n Your ae son and your heir;\n O ye hae poisoned your ae son, mother,\n And sons you\u2019ll never hae mair.\n 87A.7\t\u2018O where will I get a little boy,\n That will win hose and shoon,\n To rin sae fast to Darlinton,\n And bid Fair Eleanor come?\n 87A.8\tThen up and spake a little boy,\n That wad win hose and shoon,\n \u2018O I\u2019ll away to Darlinton,\n And bid Fair Eleanor come.\u2019\n 87A.9\tO he has run to Darlinton,\n And tirled at the pin;\n And wha was sae ready as Eleanor\u2019s sell\n To let the bonny boy in?\n 87A.10\t\u2018Your gude-mother has made ye a rare dinour,\n She\u2019s made it baith gude and fine;\n Your gude-mother has made ye a gay dinour,\n And ye maun cum till her and dine.\u2019\n 87A.11\tIt\u2019s twenty lang miles to Sillertoun town,\n The langest that ever were gane;\n But the steed it was wight, and the ladye was light,\n And she cam linkin in.\n 87A.12\tBut when she came to Sillertoun town,\n And into Sillertoun ha,\n The torches were burning, the ladies were mourning,\n And they were weeping a\u2019.\n 87A.13\t\u2018O where is now my wedded lord,\n And where now can he be?\n O where is now my wedded lord?\n For him I canna see.\u2019\n 87A.14\t\u2018Your wedded lord is dead,\u2019 she says,\n \u2018And just gane to be laid in the clay;\n Your wedded lord is dead,\u2019 she says,\n \u2018And just gane to be buried the day.\n 87A.15\t\u2018Ye\u2019se get nane o his gowd, ye\u2019se get nane o his gear,\n Ye\u2019se get nae thing frae me;\n Ye\u2019se na get an inch o his gude broad land,\n Tho your heart suld burst in three.\u2019\n 87A.16\t\u2018I want nane o his gowd, I want nane o his gear,\n I want nae land frae thee;\n But I\u2019ll hae the ring that\u2019s on his finger,\n For them he did promise to me.\u2019\n 87A.17\t\u2018Ye\u2019se na get the ring that\u2019s on his finger,\n Ye\u2019se na get them frae me;\n Ye\u2019se na get the ring that\u2019s on his finger,\n An your heart suld burst in three.\u2019\n 87A.18\tShe\u2019s turn\u2019d her back unto the wa,\n And her face unto a rock,\n And there, before the mother\u2019s face,\n Her very heart it broke.\n 87A.19\tThe tane was buried in Marie\u2019s kirk,\n The tother in Marie\u2019s quair,\n And out o the tane there sprang a birk,\n And out o the tother a brier.\n 87A.20\tAnd thae twa met, and thae twa plat,\n The birk but and the brier,\n And by that ye may very weel ken\n They were twa lovers dear.\n \n \n \n 87B: Prince Robert\n \n \n 87B.1\tIT\u2019S fifty miles to Sittingen\u2019s Rocks,\n As eer was ridden or gane;\n And Earl Robert has wedded a wife,\n But he dare na bring her hame.\n And Earl Robert has wedded a wife,\n But he dare na bring her hame.\n 87B.2\tHis mother, she called to her waiting-maid,\n To bring her a pint o wine:\n \u2018For I dinna weel ken what hour of the day\n That my son Earl Robert shall dine.\u2019\n 87B.3\tShe\u2019s put it to her fause, fause cheek,\n But an her fause, fause chin;\n She\u2019s put it to her fause, fause lips,\n But never a drap went in.\n 87B.4\tBut he\u2019s put it to his bonny cheek,\n Aye and his bonny chin;\n He\u2019s put it to his red rosy lips,\n And the poison went merrily doun.\n 87B.5\t\u2018O where will I get a bonny boy,\n That will win hose and shoon,\n That will gang quickly to Sittingen\u2019s Rocks,\n And bid my lady come?\u2019\n 87B.6\tIt\u2019s out then speaks a bonny boy,\n To Earl Robert was something akin:\n \u2018Many a time have I ran thy errand,\n But this day wi the tears I\u2019ll rin.\u2019\n 87B.7\tBat when he came to Sittingin\u2019s Rocks,\n To the middle of a\u2019 the ha,\n There were bells a ringing, and music playing,\n And ladies dancing a\u2019.\n 87B.8\t\u2018What news, what news, my bonny boy?\n What news have ye to me?\n Is Earl Robert in very good health,\n And the ladies of your countrie?\u2019\n 87B.9\t\u2018O Earl Robert\u2019s in very good health,\n And as weel as a man can be;\n But his mother this night has a drink to be druken,\n And at it you must be.\u2019\n 87B.10\tShe called to her waiting-maid,\n To bring her a riding-weed,\n And she called to her stable-groom,\n To saddle her milk-white steed,\n 87B.11\tBut when she came to Earl Robert\u2019s bouir,\n To the middle of a\u2019 the ha,\n There were bells a ringing, and sheets doun hinging,\n And ladies mourning a\u2019.\n 87B.12\t\u2018I\u2019ve come for none of his gold,\u2019 she said,\n \u2018Nor none of his white monie,\n Excepting a ring of his smallest finger,\n If that you will grant me.\u2019\n 87B.13\t\u2018Thou\u2019ll not get none of his gold,\u2019 she said,\n \u2018Nor none of his white monie;\n Thou\u2019ll not get a ring of his smallest finger,\n Tho thy heart should break in three.\u2019\n 87B.14\tShe set her foot unto a stane,\n Her back unto a tree;\n She set her foot unto a stane,\n And her heart did break in three.\n 87B.15\tThe one was buried in Mary\u2019s kirk,\n The other in Mary\u2019s quire;\n Out of the one there grew a birk,\n From the other a bonnie brier.\n 87B.16\tAnd these twa grew, and these twa threw,\n Till their twa craps drew near;\n So all the warld may plainly see\n That they loved each other dear.\n \n \n \n 87C: Prince Robert\n \n \n 87C.1\tLORD ROBERT and Mary Florence,\n They were twa children young;\n They were scarse seven years of age\n Till love began to spring.\n 87C.2\tLord Robert loved Mary Florence,\n And she lovd him above power;\n But he durst not for his cruel mother\n Bring her unto his bower.\n 87C.3\tIt was nineteen miles to Strawberry Castle,\n As good as ever was rode or gane,\n But the lord being light, and the steed being swift,\n Lord Robert was hame gin noon.\n 87C.4\t\u2018A blessing, a blessing, dear mother,\u2019 he cries,\n \u2018A blessing I do crave!\u2019\n \u2018A blessing, a blessing, my son Lord Robert,\n And a blessing thou shalt have.\u2019\n 87C.5\tShe called on her chamber-maid\n To fill up a glass of wine,\n And so clever was her cursed fingers\n To put the rank poison in.\n 87C.6\t\u2018O wae be to you, mother dear,\u2019 he cries,\n \u2018For working such a wae;\n For poisoning of your son Lord Robert,\n And children you have nae mae.\n 87C.7\t\u2018O where will I get a pretty little boy\n That\u2019ll rin him my errands sune?\n That will rin unto Strawberry Castle,\n And tell Mary Florence to cum?\u2019\n 87C.8\t\u2018Here am I, a pretty little boy,\n Your eldest sister\u2019s son,\n That will rin unto Strawberry Castle,\n And tell Mary Florence to come.\u2019\n 87C.9\tWhen he came unto Strawberry Castle\n He tirled at the pin,\n And so ready was Mary Florence hersell\n To open and let him in.\n 87C.10\t\u2018What news, what news, my pretty little boy?\n What news hast thou brocht here?\u2019\n With sichin and sabbin and wringing his hands,\n No message he could refer.\n 87C.11\t\u2018The news that I have gotten,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018I cannot weel declair;\n But my grandmother has prepard a feast,\n And fain she would hae thee thair.\u2019\n 87C.12\tShe called on her stable-groom\n To dress her swiftest steed;\n For she knew very weel by this pretty little boy\n That Lord Robert was dead.\n 87C.13\tAnd when she came to Knotingale Castle\n She tirled at the pin,\n And so ready was Lord Robert\u2019s mother\n To open and let her in.\n 87C.14\t\u2018What news, what news, Mary Florence?\u2019 she says,\n \u2018What news has thou to me?\u2019\n \u2018I came to see your son Lord Robert,\n And fain would I him see.\n 87C.15\t\u2018I came not for his gude red gold,\n Nor for his white monie,\n But for the ring on his wee finger,\n And fain would I it see.\u2019\n 87C.16\t\u2018That ring thou cannot see, Mary Florence,\n That ring thou\u2019ll never see;\n For death was so strong in Lord Robert\u2019s breast\n That the gold ring burst in three.\u2019\n 87C.17\tShe has set her foot unto a stone,\n Her back unto a tree;\n Before she left Knotingale Castle\n Her heart it brak in three.\n \n \n \n 87D: Prince Robert\n \n \n 87D.1\tPRINCE ROBERT he has wedded a wife,\n An he daurna bring her hame;\n The queen . . . .\n His mither was much to blame.\n * * * * *\n 87D.2\t\u2018It is the fashion in oor countrie, mither,\n I dinna ken what it is here,\n To like your wife better than your mither,\n That . . . bought you sae dear.\u2019\n 87D.3\tShe called upon her best marie,\n An tippet her wi a ring,\n To bring to her the rank poison,\n To gie Prince Robert a dram.\n 87D.4\tShe put it to her cheek, her cheek,\n She put it to her chin;\n She put it to her fause, fause lips,\n But neer a drap gaed in.\n 87D.5\tShe put it to his cheek, his cheek,\n She put it to his chin;\n She put it to his rosy lips,\n An the rank poison gaed in.\n 87D.6\t\u2018Whare will I get a bonnie boy,\n Wha will win meat an fee,\n Wha will rin on to . . . bower,\n Bring my gude ladie to me?\u2019\n 87D.7\t\u2018Here am I, a bonnie boy,\n Willin to win meat an fee,\n Wha will rin on to . . . bower,\n An bring your gude ladie.\u2019\n 87D.8\t\u2018Whan you come to broken brig,\n Tak aff your coat an swim;\n An whan you come to grass growin,\n Tak aff your shoon an rin.\u2019\n 87D.9\tAn whan he cam to broken brig,\n He coost his coat an swam,\n An whan he cam to grass growin,\n Set doon his feet an ran.\n 87D.10\tAn whan he cam to the ladie\u2019s bower,\n He fand her a\u2019 her lane,\n . . . . .\n . . . . .\n * * * * *\n 87D.11\tAn syne she kissed his wan, wan lips,\n . . . . .\n . . . . .\n . . . . .\n \n \n \n \n \n \n Next: 88. Young Johnstone","title":"The Child Ballads: 87. Prince Robert","type":"page"}