{"collection":"Northern European Mythology","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/neu/eng/child/ch091.htm","path":"neu/eng/child/ch091.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/neu/eng/child/ch091.htm","text":"91A.1 WHEN we were silly sisters seven,\nsisters were so fair,\nFive of us were brave knights\u2019 wives,\nand died in childbed lair.\n91A.2 Up then spake Fair Mary,\nmarry woud she nane;\nIf ever she came in man\u2019s bed,\nthe same gate wad she gang.\n91A.3 \u2018Make no vows, Fair Mary,\nfor fear they broken be;\nHere\u2019s been the Knight of Wallington,\nasking good will of thee.\u2019\n91A.4 \u2018If here\u2019s been the knight, mother,\nasking good will of me,\nWithin three quarters of a year\nyou may come bury me.\u2019\n91A.5 When she came to Wallington,\nand into Wallington hall,\nThere she spy\u2019d her mother dear,\nwalking about the wall.\n91A.6 \u2018You\u2019re welcome, daughter dear,\nto thy castle and thy bowers;\u2019\n\u2018I thank you kindly, mother,\nI hope they\u2019ll soon be yours.\u2019\n91A.7 She had not been in Wallington\nthree quarters and a day,\nTill upon the ground she could not walk,\nshe was a weary prey.\n91A.8 She had not been in Wallington\nthree quarters and a night,\nTill on the ground she coud not walk,\nshe was a weary wight.\n91A.9 \u2018Is there neer a boy in this town,\nwho\u2019ll win hose and shun,\nThat will run to fair Pudlington,\nand bid my mother come?\u2019\n91A.10 Up then spake a little boy,\nnear unto a-kin;\n\u2018Full oft I have your errands gone,\nbut now I will it run.\u2019\n91A.11 Then she calld her waiting-maid\nto bring up bread and wine:\n\u2018Eat and drink, my bonny boy,\nthou\u2019ll neer eat more of mine.\n91A.12 \u2018Give my respects to my mother,\n[as] she sits in her chair of stone,\nAnd ask her how she likes the news,\nof seven to have but one.\n91A.13 [\u2018Give my respects to my mother,\nas she sits in her chair of oak,\nAnd bid her come to my sickening,\nor my merry lake-wake.]\n91A.14 \u2018Give my love to my brother\nWilliam, Ralph, and John,\nAnd to my sister Betty fair,\nand to her white as bone.\n91A.15 \u2018And bid her keep her maidenhead,\nbe sure make much on\u2019t,\nFor if eer she come in man\u2019s bed,\nthe same gate will she gang.\u2019\n91A.16 Away this little boy is gone,\nas fast as he could run;\nWhen he came where brigs were broke,\nhe lay down and swum.\n91A.17 When he saw the lady, he said,\nLord may your keeper be!\n\u2018What news, my pretty boy,\nhast thou to tell to me?\u2019\n91A.18 \u2018Your daughter Mary orders me,\nas you sit in a chair of stone,\nTo ask you how you like the news,\nof seven to have but one.\n91A.19 \u2018Your daughter gives commands,\nas you sit in a chair of oak,\nAnd bids you come to her sickening,\nor her merry lake-wake.\n91A.20 \u2018She gives command to her brother\nWilliam, Ralph, and John,\n[And] to her sister Betty fair,\nand to her white as bone.\n91A.21 \u2018She bids her keep her maidenhead,\nbe sure make much on\u2019t,\nfor if eer she came in man\u2019s bed,\nthe same gate woud she gang.\u2019\n91A.22 She kickt the table with her foot,\nshe kickt it with her knee,\nThe silver plate into the fire,\nso far she made it flee.\n91A.23 Then she calld her waiting-maid\nto bring her riding-hood,\nSo did she on her stable-groom\nto bring her riding-steed.\n91A.24 \u2018Go saddle to me the black [the black,]\ngo saddle to me the brown,\nGo saddle to me the swiftest steed\nthat eer rid [to] Wallington.\u2019\n91A.25 When they came to Wallington,\nand into Wallington hall,\nThere she spy\u2019d her son Fenwick,\nwalking about the wall.\n91A.26 \u2018God save you, dear son,\nLord may your keeper be!\nWhere is my daughter fair,\nthat used to walk with thee?\u2019\n91A.27 He turnd his head round about,\nthe tears did fill his ee:\n\u2018\u2019Tis a month,\u2019 he said, \u2018Since she\ntook her chambers from me.\u2019\n91A.28 She went on . . .\nand there were in the hall\nFour and twenty ladies,\nletting the tears down fall.\n91A.29 Her daughter had a scope\ninto her cheek and into her chin,\nAll to keep her life\ntill her dear mother came.\n91A.30 \u2018Come take the rings off my fingers,\nthe skin it is so white,\nAnd give them to my mother dear,\nfor she was all the wite.\n91A.31 \u2018Come take the rings off my fingers,\nthe veins they are so red,\nGive them to Sir William Fenwick,\nI\u2019m sure his heart will bleed.\u2019\n91A.32 She took out a razor\nthat was both sharp and fine,\nAnd out of her left side has taken\nthe heir of Wallington.\n91A.33 There is a race in Wallington,\nand that I rue full sare;\nTho the cradle it be full spread up,\nthe bride-bed is left bare.\n91B: Fair Mary of Wallington\n91B.1 \u2018WHEN we were sisters seven,\nAn five of us deyd wi child,\nAnd there is nane but you and I, Mazery,\nAnd we\u2019ll go madens mild.\u2019\n91B.2 But there came knights, and there came squiers,\nAn knights of high degree;\nShe pleasd hersel in Levieston,\nThey wear a comly twa.\n91B.3 He has bought her rings for her fingers,\nAnd garlands for her hair,\nThe broochis till her bosome braid;\nWhat wad my love ha mair?\nAnd he has brought her on to Livingston,\nAnd made her lady thear.\n91B.4 She had na been in Liveingston\nA twelvemonth and a day,\nTill she was as big wi bairn\nAs ony lady could gae.\n91B.5 The knight he knocked his white fingers,\nThe goude rings flew in twa:\n\u2018Halls and bowers they shall go wast\nEre my bonny love gie awa!\u2019\n91B.6 The knight he knocked his white fingers,\nThe goude rings flew in foure:\n\u2018Halls and bowers they shall go waste\nEren my bonny lady gie it ore!\u2019\n91B.7 The knight he knocked his white fingers,\nThe lady[s] sewed and sung;\nIt was to comfort Lady Mazery,\nBut her life-days wear na long.\n91B.8 \u2018O whare will I get a bonny boy,\nThat will win both hoos and shoon,\nThat will win his way to Little Snoddown,\nTo my mother, the Queen?\u2019\n91B.9 Up and stands a bonny boy,\nGoude yellow was his hair;\nI wish his mother mickle grace at him,\nAnd his trew-love mickle mare.\n91B.10 \u2018Here am I a bonny boy,\nThat will win baith hoos an shoon,\nThat will win my way to Little Snoddown,\nTo thy mother, the Queen.\u2019\n91B.11 \u2018Here is the rings frae my fingers,\nThe garlonds frae my hair,\nThe broches fray my bosom braid;\nFray me she\u2019ll nere get mare.\n91B.12 \u2018Here it is my weeding-goun,\nIt is a\u2019 goude but the hem;\nGi it to my sister Allen,\nFor she is left now bird her lane.\n91B.13 \u2018When you come whare brigs is broken,\nYe\u2019l bent your bow and swim;\nAn when ye come whare green grass grows,\nYe\u2019l slack your shoon and run.\n91B.14 \u2018But when you come to yon castle,\nBide neither to chap nor ca,\nBut you\u2019l set your bent bow to your breast,\nAnd lightly loup the wa,\nAnd gin the porter be half-gate,\nYe\u2019ll be ben throw the ha!\n91B.15 O when he came whare brigs was broken,\nHe bent his bow and swam;\nAn when he came where green grass grows,\nHe slackd his shoon an ran.\n91B.16 And when he came to yon castel,\nHe stayed neither to chap no ca\u2019l,\nBut bent his bow unto his breast,\nAnd lightly lap the wa\u2019l;\nAnd gin the porter was hafe-gate,\nHe was ben throw the ha\u2019l.\n91B.17 \u2018O peace be to you, ladys a\u2019l!\nAs ye sit at your dine\nYe ha little word of Lady Mazery,\nFor she drees mickel pine.\n91B.18 \u2018Here is the rings frae her fingers,\nThe garlands frae her hair,\nThe broches frae her bosome brade;\nFray her ye\u2019l nere get mare.\n91B.19 \u2018Here it is her weeding-goun,\nIt is a\u2019 goude but the hem;\nYe\u2019ll ge it to her sister Allen,\nFor she is left bird her lane.\u2019\n91B.20 She ca\u2019d the table wi her foot,\nAnd coped it wi her tae,\nTill siller cups an siller cans\nUnto the floor did gae.\n91B.21 \u2018Ye wash, ye wash, ye bonny boy,\nYe wash, and come to dine;\nIt does not fit a bonny boy\nHis errant for to tine.\n91B.22 \u2018Ge saddle to me the black, the black,\nGe saddle to me the brown,\nGe saddle to me the swiftest steed\nThat ever rid frae a town.\u2019\n91B.23 The first steed they saddled to her,\nHe was the bonny black;\nHe was a good steed, an a very good steed,\nBut he tiyrd eer he wan the slack.\n91B.24 The next steed they saddled to her,\nHe was the bonny brown;\nHe was a good steed, an a very good steed,\nBut he tiyird ere he wan the town.\n91B.25 The next steed they saddled to her,\nHe was the bonny white;\nFair fa the mair that fo\u2019d the fole\nThat carried her to Mazeree[\u2019s] lear!\n91B.26 As she gaed in at Leivingston,\nThair was na mickel pride;\nThe scobs was in her lovely mouth,\nAnd the razer in her side.\n91B.27 \u2018O them that marrys your daughter, lady,\nI think them but a foole;\nA married man at Martimass,\nAn a widdow the next Yule!\u2019\n91B.28 \u2018O hold your toung now, Livingston,\nLet all your folly abee;\nI bear the burden in my breast,\nMun suffer them to dee.\u2019\n91B.29 Out an speaks her Bird Allen,\nFor she spake ay through pride;\n\u2018That man shall near be born,\u2019 she says,\n\u2018That shall ly down by my side.\u2019\n91B.30 \u2018O hold your toung now, Bird Allen,\nLet all your folly abee;\nFor you shall marry a man,\u2019 she says,\n\u2018Tho ye shoud live but rathes three.\u2019\n91C: Fair Mary of Wallington\n91C.1 \u2018O WE were sisters seven, Maisry,\nAnd five are dead wi child;\nThere is nane but you and I, Maisry,\nAnd we\u2019ll go maidens mild.\u2019\n91C.2 She hardly had the word spoken,\nAnd turnd her round about,\nWhen the bonny Earl of Livingston\nWas calling Maisry out.\n91C.3 Upon a bonny milk-white steed,\nThat drank out o the Tyne,\nAnd a\u2019 was for her Lady Maisry,\nTo take her hyne and hyne.\n91C.4 Upon a bonny milk-white steed,\nThat drank out o the Tay,\nAnd a\u2019 was for her Lady Maisry,\nTo carry her away.\n91C.5 She had not been at Livingston\nA twelve month and a day,\nUntil she was as big wi bairn\nAs any ladie coud gae.\n91C.6 She calld upon her little foot-page,\nSays, Ye maun run wi speed,\nAnd bid my mother come to me,\nFor of her I\u2019ll soon have need.\n91C.7 \u2018See, there is the brootch frae my hause-bane,\nIt is of gowd sae ried;\nGin she winna come when I\u2019m alive,\nBid her come when I am dead.\u2019\n91C.8 But ere she wan to Livingston,\nAs fast as she coud ride,\nThe gaggs they were in Maisry\u2019s mouth,\nAnd the sharp sheers in her side.\n91C.9 Her good lord wrang his milk-white hands,\nTill the gowd rings flaw in three:\n\u2018Let ha\u2019s and bowers and a\u2019 gae waste,\nMy bonny love\u2019s taen frae me!\u2019\n91C.10 \u2018O hold your tongue, Lord Livingston,\nLet a\u2019 your mourning be;\nFor I bare the bird between my sides,\nYet I maun thole her to die.\u2019\n91C.11 Then out it spake her sister dear,\nAs she sat at her head:\n\u2018That man is not in Christendoom\nShall gar me die sicken dead.\u2019\n91C.12 \u2018O hold your tongue, my ae daughter,\nLet a\u2019 your folly be,\nFor ye shall be married ere this day week\nTho the same death you should die.\u2019\n91D: Fair Mary of Wallington\n91D.1 \u2018HERE it is was sisters seven,\nAnd five is died with child;\nWas non but you and I, Hellen,\nAnd we\u2019se be maidens mild.\u2019\n91D.2 They hadna been maidens o bonny Snawdon\nA twalvemonth and a day,\nWhen lairds and lords a courting came,\nSeeking Mary away.\n91D.3 The bonny laird of Livingstone,\nHe liket Mary best;\nHe gae her a ring, a royal ring,\nAnd he wedded her at last.\n91D.4 She hed na been lady o Livingstone\nA twalvemonth and a day,\nWhen she did go as big wi bairn\nAs iver a woman could be.\n* * * * *\n91D.7 The knights were wringin their white fingers,\nAnd the ladys wer tearin their hair;\nIt was a\u2019 for the lady o Livingstone,\nFor a word she never spake mare.\n91D.8 Out and spake her sister Hellen,\nWhere she sat by her side;\n\u2018The man shall never be born,\u2019 she said,\n\u2018Shall ever make me his bride.\n91D.9 \u2018The man,\u2019 she said, \u2019That would merry me,\nI\u2019de count him but a feel,\nTo merry me at Whitsunday,\nAnd bury me at Yele.\u2019\n91D.10 Out and spak her mother dear,\nWhare she sat by the fire:\n\u2018I bare this babe now from my side,\nMaun suffer her to die.\n91D.11 \u2018And I have six boys now to my oyes,\nAnd none of them were born,\nBut a hole cut in their mother\u2019s side,\nAnd they from it were shorne.\u2019\n91D.12 . . . . . .\n. . . . .\n. . . . . .\n. . . . .\n91E: Fair Mary of Wallington\n91E.1 \u2018ARISE, arise, dochter,\u2019 she said,\n\u2018My bidding to obey;\nThe bravest lord in all Scotland\nThis night asked you of me.\u2019\n91E.2 \u2018O haud your tongue, mother,\u2019 she said,\n\u2018These words they do me wrang;\nFor gin I lye in a man\u2019s bed,\nMy days will no be lang.\n91E.3 \u2018There were seven sisters o us a\u2019,\nWe were a\u2019 clad in white;\nAnd five of them were married,\nAnd in child-bed they died.\u2019\n91E.4 \u2018Ye shall not be drest in black,\nNor sall ye be in broun;\nBut ye\u2019se be drest in shining gowd,\nTo gae glittering thro the town.\n91E.5 \u2018Your father sall ride before you,\u2019 she said,\n\u2018And your brother sall ride ahin;\nYour horses fore-feet siller shod,\nAnd his hind anes wi gowd shall shine.\n91E.6 \u2018Wi four and twenty buirdlie men\nAtween ye and the wun,\nAnd four and twenty bonnie mays\nAtween ye and the sun.\n91E.7 \u2018Four and twenty milk-white geese,\nStretching their wings sae wide,\nBlawing the dust aff the high-way,\nThat Mild Mary may ride.\u2019\n91E.8 They took to them their milk-white steeds,\nSet her upon a grey,\nAnd wi a napkin in her hand\nWeeping she rade away.\n91E.9 O they rade on that lee-lang nicht,\nAnd part o the neist day also,\nAnd syne she saw her auld good mother\nStand in the gates below.\n91E.10 \u2018You\u2019r welcome, welcome, dochter,\u2019 she said,\n\u2018To your biggins and your bowers;\u2019\n\u2018I thank ye kindly, mither,\u2019 she said,\n\u2018But I doubt they\u2019ll sune be yours.\u2019\n* * * * *\n91F: Fair Mary of Wallington\n91F.1 \u2018O WE were seven brave sisters,\nFive of us died wi child,\nAnd nane but you and I, Maisry,\nso we\u2019ll gae maidens mild.\u2019\n91F.2 \u2018O had your tongue, now Lady Margaret,\nLet a\u2019 your folly be;\nI\u2019ll gar you keep your true promise\nTo the lad ayont the sea.\u2019\n91F.3 \u2018O there is neither lord nor knight\nMy love shall ever won,\nExcept it be Lord Darlington,\nAnd here he winna come.\u2019\n91F.4 But when the hour o twall was past,\nAnd near the hour o one,\nLord Darlington came to the yetts,\nWi thirty knights and ten.\n91F.5 Then he has wedded Lady Margaret,\nAnd brought her oer the sea,\nAnd there was nane that lived on earth\nSae happy as was she.\n91F.6 But when nine months were come and gane\nStrong travailling took she,\nAnd nae physician in the land\nCould ease her maladie.\n91F.7 \u2018Where will I get a little wee boy,\nWill won baith meat and fee,\nThat will gae on to Seaton\u2019s yetts,\nBring my mother to me?\u2019\n91F.8 \u2018O here am I, a little wee boy,\nThat will won meat and fee,\nThat will gae on to Seaton\u2019s yetts,\nAnd bring your mother to thee.\u2019\n91F.9 Then he is on to Seaton\u2019s yetts,\nAs fast as gang could he;\nSays, Ye must come to Darlington,\nYour daughter for to see.\n91F.10 But when she came to Darlington,\nWhere there was little pride,\nThe scobbs were in the lady\u2019s mouth,\nThe sharp sheer in her side.\n91F.11 Darlington stood on the stair,\nAnd gart the gowd rings flee:\n\u2018My ha\u2019s and bowers and a\u2019 shall gae waste,\nIf my bonny love die for me.\u2019\n91F.12 \u2018O had your tongue, Lord Darlington,\nLet a\u2019 your folly be;\nI boor the bird within my sides,\nI\u2019ll suffer her to die.\n91F.13 \u2018But he that marries my daughter,\nI think he is a fool;\nIf he marries her at Candlemas,\nShe\u2019ll be frae him ere Yule.\n91F.14 \u2018I had seven ance in companie,\nThis night I go my lane;\nAnd when I come to Clyde\u2019s water,\nI wish that I may drown.\u2019\n91[G]: Fair Mary of Wallington\n91[G].1 \u2018We was sisters, we was seven,\nFive of us dayed we child,\nAn you an me, Burd Ellen,\nSall live maidens mild.\u2019\n91[G.2] Ther came leards, and ther came lords,\nAn knights of high degree,\nA\u2019 courting Lady Messry,\nBat it widne deei.\n91[G.3] Bat the bonny lord of Livenston,\nHe was flour of them a\u2019,\nThe bonny lord of Livenston,\nHe stole the lady awaa.\n91[G.4] Broad was the horses hoves\nThat dumped the water of Clide,\nAn a\u2019 was for honor of that gay lady\nThat day she was Livenston\u2019s bride.\n91[G.5] Fan she came to Livenston\nMukell mirth was ther;\nThe knights knaked ther whit fingers\nThe ladys curled ther hear.\n91[G.6] She had no ben in Livenston\nA tuall-month an a day,\nTill she was as big we bearn\nAs a lady coud gaa.\n91[G.7] She had ne ben in Livenston\nA tuall-month an a hour,\nTill for the morning of the may\nThe couldne ane come near her bour.\n91[G.8] \u2018Far will I gett a bonny boy\nThat will rean my earend shoun,\nThat will goo to leve London,\nTo my mother, the quin?\u2019\n91[G.9] \u2018Hear am I, a bonny boy\nWill rin yer earend sune,\nThat will rin on to fair London,\nTo yer mother, the quin.\u2019\n91[G.10] \u2018Hear is the bruch fra my breast-bane,\nThe garlands fra my hear;\nYe ge that to my mider,\nFra me she\u2019ll never gett mare.\n91[G.11] \u2018Hear is the rosses fra my shoun,\nThe ribbons fra my hear;\nYe gee that to my mider,\nFra me she\u2019ll never gett mare.\n91[G.12] \u2018Hear is my briddel-stand,\nIt is a\u2019 goud to the heam;\nYe gie that to Burd Ellen,\nForbed her to marry men.\n91[G.13] \u2018Ye bid them and ye pray them bath,\nIf they will dou it for my sake,\nIf they be not att my death,\nTo be att my leak-wake.\n91[G.14] \u2018Ye bid them and ye pray them baith,\nIf they will dou it for my name,\nIf they be not att my leak-wake,\nTo be att my birrien.\u2019\n91[G.15] Fan he came to grass grouen,\nHe strated his bou an rane,\nAn fan he came to brigs broken\nHe slaked his bou an swam.\n91[G.16] An fan he came to yon castell,\nHe bad nether to chap nor caa,\nBut sait his bent bou to his breast\nAn lightly lap the waa;\nOr the porter was att the gate,\nThe boy was in the haa.\n91[G.17] \u2018Mukell meatt is on yer table, lady,\nA littil of it is eaten,\nBat the bonny lady of Livenston\nYe have her clean forgotten.\u2019\n91[G.18] \u2018Ye lie, ye lie, ye bonny boy,\nSae loud as I hear ye lie;\nMukell ha I sold the [meatt],\nAn littel hae I bought,\nBatt the bonny lady of Livenston\nGass never out of my thought.\n91[G.19] \u2018Mukell have I bought, bonny boy,\nAn littel haa I sale,\nBat the bonny lady of Livenston\nShe couls my heart fue cale.\u2019\n91[G.20] \u2018Hear is the ribbings fra her hear,\nThe roses fra her shoun;\nI was bidden gie that to her midder,\nTo her midder, the quin.\n91[G.21] \u2018Hear is the bruch fra her breast-bean,\nThe garlands frae her hear;\nI was bidden gee that to her mother,\nFra her she\u2019ll never gett mare.\n91[G.22] \u2018Hear is her bridell-stand,\nThe\u2019r a\u2019 goud to the heam;\nI was bidden ga that to Burd Ellen,\nForbid her to marry man.\n91[G.23] \u2018She bids ye on she prays ye bath,\nGin yee\u2019ll di et for her sake,\nIf ye be not att her death,\nTo be att her leak-wake.\n91[G.24] \u2018She bids yee an she prays ye bath,\nGine ye\u2019ll dou et for her name,\nIf ye be not att her leak-wake,\nTo be at her burrien.\u2019\n91[G.25] \u2018Garr saddell to me the blak,\nSaddle to me the broun,\nGar saddel to me the suiftest stead\nThat ever read fraa a toun,\nTill I gaa to Livenston\nAn see hou Measry fairs.\u2019\n91[G.26] The first stead was saddled to her,\nIt was the bonny black;\nShe spured him aftt and she spared him na,\nAn she tayened him at a slap.\n91[G.27] The neast stead that was saddled to her\nWas the berrey-broun;\nShe spured him aftt an she spared him not,\nAn she tayned him att a toun.\n91[G.28] The neast an steed that was saddled to her,\nIt was the milk-white:\n\u2018Fair faa the mear that folled the foll\nHad me to Meassry\u2019s leak!\u2019\n91[G.29] Fan she came to Livenston,\nMukel dolle was ther;\nThe knights wrang ther whit fingers,\nThe ladys tore ther hear.\n91[G.30] The knights they wrang ther whit fingers,\nThe rings they flue in four:\n\u2018Latt haas an tours an a\u2019 doun fau!\nMy dear thing has gine it our.\u2019\n91[G.31] Our spak him Livenston,\nAn a sorry man was he;\n\u2018I had rader lost the lands of Livenston,\nAfor my gay lady.\u2019\n91[G.32] \u2018Had yer toung nou, Livenston,\nAn latt yer folly be;\nI bare the burd in my bosom,\nI man thole to see her diee.\u2019\n91[G.33] Fan she came to her doughter\u2019s boure,\nTher was littel pride;\nThe scoups was in her doughter\u2019s mouth,\nAn the sharp shirrs in her side.\n91[G.34] Out spake her Burd Ellen,\nAn she spake ay threu pride;\nThe wife sall never bear the sin\nSall lay doun by my side.\n91[G.35] \u2018Had your toung nou, Burd Ellen,\nYe latt yer folly a be;\nDinn ye mind that ye promised yer love\nTo him that is ayond the seaa?\u2019\n91[G.36] \u2018Hold yer toung, my mother,\nYe speak just leak a fooll;\nTho I wer marred att Martimes,\nI wad be dead or Yeull.\u2019\n91[G.37] \u2018I have five bonny oyes att heam,\nTher was never ane of them born,\nBat every ane of them\nOut of ther midder\u2019s sides shorn.\u2019","title":"The Child Ballads: 91. Fair Mary of Wallington","type":"page"}