{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_44593/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_44593","id":"gutenberg_44593","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/44593","summary":null,"tags":["Ballads, English -- Great Britain -- Texts","Category: British Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Poetry"],"text":"Transcriber's Note:\n\n Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as\n possible. Some minor corrections of spelling and puctuation have\n been made.\n\n Italic text has been marked with _underscores_.\n\n\n\n\nThe Oxford Book of Ballads\n\n\n\n\n The\n Oxford Book of\n Ballads\n\n Chosen & Edited by\n Arthur Quiller-Couch\n\n Oxford\n At the Clarendon Press\n\n\nPRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN\n\n\n\n\n TO\n THE ONE SURVIVOR\n OF THREE MEN\n TO WHOM ALL LOVERS OF THE BALLAD\n OWE MOST IN THESE TIMES\n FRANCIS JAMES CHILD\n FREDERICK JAMES FURNIVALL\n AND\n JOHN WESLEY HALES\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nAs in _The Oxford Book of English Verse_ I tried to range over the\nwhole field of the English Lyric, and to choose the best, so in this\nvolume I have sought to bring together the best Ballads out of the\nwhole of our national stock. But the method, order, balance of the\ntwo books are different perforce, as the fates of the Lyric and the\nBallad have been diverse. While the Lyric in general, still making\nfor variety, is to-day more prolific than ever and (all cant apart)\npromises fruit to equal the best, that particular offshoot which we\ncall the Ballad has been dead, or as good as dead, for two hundred\nyears. It would seem to have discovered, almost at the start, a very\nprecise Platonic pattern of what its best should be; and having\nexhausted itself in reproducing that, it declined (through a crab-apple\nstage of Broadsides) into sterility. Therefore this anthology cannot\nbe brought down to the present day, and therefore the first half of it\ncontains far finer poetry than the second.\n\nBut it may be objected that among Ballads no such thing as chronological\norder is possible; and that, if it were, I have not attempted it. \u2018Why\nthen did I not boldly mix up all my flowers in a heap and afterwards\nsit down to re-arrange them, disregarding history, studious only\nthat one flower should set off another and the whole wreath be a\nwell-balanced circle?\u2019 I will try to answer this, premising only that\ntact is nine-tenths of the anthologist\u2019s business. It is very true that\nthe Ballads have no chronology: that no one can say when _Hynd Horn_\nwas composed, or assert with proof that _Clerk Saunders_ is younger\nthan _Childe Maurice_ or _Tam Lin_ older than _Sir Patrick Spens_,\nthough that all five are older than _The Children in the Wood_ no one\nwith an ounce of literary sense would deny. Even of our few certainties\nwe have to remember that, where almost everything depends on oral\ntradition, it may easily happen--in fact happens not seldom--that a\nreally old ballad \u2018of the best period\u2019 has reached us late and in a\ncorrupted form, its original gold overlaid with silver and bronze. It\nis true, moreover, that these pages, declining an impossible order,\ndecline also the pretence to it. I have arranged the ballads in seven\nbooks: of which the first deals with Magic, the \u2018Seely Court\u2019, and the\nsupernatural; the second (and on the whole the most beautiful) with\nstories of absolute romance such as _Childe Waters_, _Lord Ingram_,\n_Young Andrew_; the third with romance shading off into real history,\nas in _Sir Patrick Spens_, _Hugh of Lincoln_, _The Queen\u2019s Marie_; the\nfourth with Early Carols and ballads of Holy Writ. This closes Part\nI. The fifth book is all of the Greenwood and Robin Hood; the sixth\nfollows history down from Chevy Chase and the Homeric deeds of Douglas\nand Percy to less renowned if not less spirited Border feuds; while the\nseventh and last book presents the Ballad in various aspects of false\nbeginning and decline--_The Old Cloak_, which deserved a long line of\nchildren but in fact has had few; _Barbara Allen_, late but exquisite;\n_Lord Lovel_, which is silly sooth; and _The Suffolk Tragedy_, wherein\na magnificent ballad-theme is ambled to market like so much butter. My\nhope is that this arrangement, while it avoids mixing up things that\ndiffer and keeps consorted those (the Robin Hood Ballads for example)\nwhich naturally go together, does \u2018in round numbers\u2019 give a view of the\nBallad in its perfection and decline, and that so my book may be useful\nto the student as well as to the disinterested lover of poetry for whom\nit is chiefly intended.\n\nThis brings me to the matter of text. To make a \u2018scientific\u2019 anthology\nof the Ballads was out of the question. In so far as scientific\ntreatment could be brought to them the work had been done, for many\ngenerations to come, if not finally, by the late Professor Child[1] in\nhis monumental edition, to which at every turn I have been indebted for\nguidance back to the originals. Child\u2019s method was to get hold of every\nballad in every extant version, good, bad, or indifferent, and to print\nthese versions side by side, with a foreword on the ballad\u2019s history,\npacked with every illustration that could be contributed out of his\nimmense knowledge of the folk-poetry of every race and country. His\nwork, as I say, left no room for follower or imitator; but fortunately\nit lies almost as wide of my purpose as of my learning. My reader did\nnot require _Sir Patrick Spens_ or _May Colvin_ in a dozen or twenty\nversions: he wanted one ballad, one _Sir Patrick Spens_, one _May\nColvin_, and that the best. How could I give him the best in my power?\n\nThere is only one way. It was Scott\u2019s way, and the way of William\nAllingham, who has been at pains to define it in the preface to his\n_Ballad Book_ (Macmillan):--\n\n The various oral versions of a popular ballad obtainable throughout\n England, Scotland, and Ireland, are perhaps, even at this late\n day,[2] practically innumerable--one as \u2018authentic\u2019 as another.\n What then to do?... The right course has appeared to be this, to\n make oneself acquainted with all attainable versions of a ballad.\n Then (granting a \u2018turn\u2019 for such things, to begin; without which\n all were labour in vain) the editor may be supposed to get as much\n insight as may be into the origin and character of the ballad in\n question; he sees or surmises more or less as to the earliest\n version or versions, as to blunders, corruptions, alterations of\n every sort (national, local, personal) on the part of the reciters;\n he then comes to investigate the doings of former editors, adopting\n thankfully what he finds good, correcting at points whereupon he\n has attained better information, rejecting (when for the worse)\n acknowledged or obvious interpolations or changes. He has to\n give it in _one_ form--the best according to his judgement and\n feeling--in firm black and white, for critics, and for readers\n cultivated and simple.\n\nThis fairly describes Scott\u2019s method as well as Allingham\u2019s own. But\nwhile I must claim along with them \u2018a \u201cturn\u201d for such things\u2019 (the\nclaim is implicit in my attempt), these two men were poets, and could\ndare more boldly than I to rewrite a faulty stanza or to supply a\nmissing one. Of this ticklish license I have been extremely chary,\nand have used it with the double precaution (1) of employing, so far\nas might be, words and phrases found elsewhere in the text of the\nballad, and (2) of printing these experiments in square brackets,[3]\nthat the reader may not be misled. Maybe I should have resisted the\ntemptation altogether but for the necessity--in a work intended for\nall sorts of readers, young and old--of removing or reducing here and\nthere in these eight hundred and sixty-five pages a coarse or a brutal\nphrase. To those who deny the necessity I will only answer that while\nno literature in the world exercises a stronger or on the whole a saner\nfascination upon imaginative youth than do these ballads, it seems to\nme wiser to omit a stanza from _Glasgerion_, for example, or to modify\na line in _Young Hunting_, than to withhold these beautiful things\naltogether from boy or maid.\n\nBefore leaving this subject of texts and their handling, I must express\nmy thanks for the permission given me to make free use of the text of\nthe Percy Folio MS., edited by Professors Hales and Furnivall some\nforty years ago. This was of course indispensable. In the history of\nour ballad-literature the _Reliques_ themselves are, if something more\nof a landmark, much less of a trophy than the three famous volumes so\nromantically achieved by Professor Child and their two editors, whose\nlabour has been scarcely more honourable than their liberality which\nhas ever laid its results open to men\u2019s benefit. Mr. Child died in\n1896; Mr. Furnivall a few months ago. To Mr. Hales, survivor of the\nfamous three, I owe the permission given with a courtesy which set a\nfresh value on what was already beyond value. I must also thank the\nRev. Sabine Baring-Gould for leave to include _The Brown Girl_ and\nother ballads from his _Songs of the West_ and _A Garland of Country\nSong_ (Methuen). It were idle to quote all the scholars--Ritson, Herd,\nScott, Jamieson and the rest--to whose labours every ballad-editor must\nbe indebted: but among younger men I wish to thank Mr. F. Sidgwick,\nwhose method in his two volumes of Ballads (Bullen) I can admire the\nmore unreservedly because it differs from mine.\n\nI hope, at any rate, that in presenting each ballad as _one_, and\nreconstructing it sometimes from many versions, I have kept pretty\nconstantly to the idea, of which Professor Ker[4] says--\u2018The truth is\nthat the Ballad is an Idea, a Poetical Form, which can take up any\nmatter, and does not leave that matter as it was before.\u2019 If the reader\ninterrogate me concerning this Idea of the Ballad, as Mr. Pecksniff\ndemanded of Mrs. Todgers her Notion of a Wooden Leg, Professor Ker has\nmy answer prepared:--\n\n In spite of Socrates and his logic we may venture to say, in answer\n to the question \u2018What is a ballad?\u2019--\u2018A Ballad is _The Milldams of\n Binnorie_ and _Sir Patrick Spens_ and _The Douglas Tragedy_ and\n _Lord Randal_ and _Childe Maurice_, and things of that sort.\u2019\n\nThere the reader has it, without need of the definition or of the\nhistorical account which this Preface must not attempt. Its author,\nno doubt, is destined to consign, some day, and \u2018come to dust\u2019 with\nmore learned editors: but meanwhile, if one ask \u2018What is a Ballad?\u2019--I\nanswer, It is these things; and it is\n\n About the dead hour o\u2019 the night\n She heard the bridles ring.\n (_Tam Lin_)\n\nand\n\n But this ladye is gone to her chamber,\n Her maydens following bright.\n (_Sir Cawline_)\n\nIt is\n\n \u2018O we were sisters, sisters seven;\n We were the fairest under heaven.\u2019\n (_Cospatrick_)\n\nand\n\n \u2018I see no harm by you, Margaret,\n Nor you see none by me.\u2019\n (_Fair Margaret and Sweet William_)\n\nand\n\n In somer, when the shawes be sheyne,\n And leves be large and long.\n (_Robin Hood and the Monk_)\n\nand\n\n O there was horsing, horsing in haste,\n And cracking of whips out owre the lee.\n (_Archie of Cawfield_)\n\nIt is even\n\n And there did he see brave Captain Ogilvie\n A-training of his men on the green.\n (_The Duke of Gordon\u2019s Daughter_)\n\nLike the Clown in _Twelfth Night_, it can sing both high and low: but\nthe note is unmistakable whether it sing high:\n\n O cocks are crowing on merry middle-earth;\n I wot the wild fowls are boding day.\n (_Clerk Saunders_)\n\n Half-owre, half-owre to Aberdour,\n \u2019Tis fifty fathoms deep;\n And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens,\n Wi\u2019 the Scots lords at his feet!\n (_Sir Patrick Spens_)\n\n \u2018O Earl Bran\u2019, I see your heart\u2019s bloud!\u2019--\n _Ay lally, o lilly lally_\n \u2018It\u2019s na but the glent o\u2019 my scarlet hood\u2019\n _All i\u2019 the night sae early._\n (_Earl Brand_)\n\nor low\n\n Then up bespake the bride\u2019s mother--\n She never was heard to speak so free:\n \u2018Ye\u2019ll not forsake my only daughter,\n Though Susie Pye has cross\u2019d the sea.\u2019\n (_Young Beichan_)\n\n \u2018An\u2019 thu sall marry a proud gunner,\n An\u2019 a proud gunner I\u2019m sure he\u2019ll be.\u2019\n (_The Great Silkie of Sule Skerrie_)\n\n Rise up, rise up, brother Dives,\n And go with us to see\n A dismal place, prepared in hell,\n To sit on a serpent\u2019s knee.\n (_Dives and Lazarus_)\n\nor, merely flat and pedestrian:\n\n There was slayne upon the English part\n For sooth as I you say,\n Of nin\u00e8 thousand English men\n Five hundred came away.\n (_Otterburn_)\n\nBut it is always unmistakable and like no other thing in poetry; in\nproof of which let me offer one simple, practical test. If any man ever\nsteeped himself in balladry, that man was Scott, and once or twice,\nas in _Proud Maisie_ and _Brignall Banks_, he came near to distil\nthe essence. If any man, taking the Ballad for his model, has ever\nsublimated its feeling and language in a poem\n\n seraphically free\n From taint of personality,\n\nthat man was Coleridge and that poem his _Ancient Mariner_. If any poet\nnow alive can be called a ballad-writer of genius, it is the author\nof _Danny Deever_ and _East and West_. But let the reader suppose a\nfascicule of such poems bound up with the present collection, and he\nwill perceive that I could have gone no straighter way to destroy the\nsingularity of the book.\n\nIn claiming this singularity for the Ballad I do not seek to exalt it\nabove any other lyrical form. Rather I am ready to admit, out of some\nexperience in anthologizing, that when a ballad is set in a collection\nalongside the best of Herrick, Gray, Landor, Browning--to name four\npoets opposite as the poles and to say nothing of such masterwork as\nSpenser\u2019s _Epithalamion_ or Milton\u2019s _Lycidas_--it is the ballad that\nnot only suffers by the apposition but suffers to a surprising degree;\nso that I have sometimes been forced to reconsider my affection, and\nask \u2018Are these ballads really beautiful as they have always appeared\nto me?\u2019 In truth (as I take it) the contrast is unfair to them, much\nas any contrast between children and grown folk would be unfair. They\nappealed to something young in the national mind, and the young still\nramp through Percy\u2019s _Reliques_--as I hope they will through this\nbook--\u2018trailing clouds of glory,\u2019 following the note in Elmond\u2019s wood--\n\n May Margaret sits in her bower door\n Sewing her silken seam;\n She heard a note in Elmond\u2019s wood,\n And wish\u2019d she there had been.\n\n She loot the seam fa\u2019 frae her side,\n The needle to her tae,\n And she is on to Elmond\u2019s wood\n As fast as she could gae.\n\nA. Q. C.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] A smaller edition of \u2018Child\u2019, excellently planned, by Helen Child\nSargent and George Lyman Kittridge, is published in England by Mr. Nutt.\n\n[2] 1864.\n\n[3] This does not hold of small transpositions, elisions of superfluous\nwords, or corrections of spelling. In these matters I have allowed\nmyself a free hand.\n\n[4] _On the History of the Ballads, 1100-1500_, by W. P. Ker,\nProceedings of the British Academy, vol. iv.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n PART I\n\n\n BOOK I\n\n NO. PAGE\n 1. Thomas the Rhymer 1\n 2. Tam Lin 4\n 3. Sir Cawline 14\n 4. Sir Aldingar 20\n 5. Cospatrick 29\n 6. Willy\u2019s Lady 36\n 7. The Queen of Elfland\u2019s Nourice 41\n 8. Lady Isabel and the Elf-Knight 43\n 9. The Riddling Knight 46\n 10. May Colvin 47\n 11. The Wee Wee Man 51\n 12. Alison Gross 52\n 13. Kemp Owyne 55\n 14. The Laily Worm 59\n 15. King Orfeo 62\n 16. King Henry 64\n 17. The Boy and the Mantle 68\n 18. King Arthur and King Cornwall 75\n 19. The Marriage of Sir Gawain 88\n 20. Bonnie Annie 98\n 21. Brown Robyn\u2019s Confession 100\n 22. The Cruel Mother 102\n 23. Binnorie 104\n 24. The Broomfield Hill 107\n 25. Earl Mar\u2019s Daughter 110\n 26. Proud Lady Margaret 116\n 27. Clerk Saunders 118\n 28. The Daemon Lover 123\n 29. Clerk Colven 126\n 30. Young Hunting 129\n 31. The Great Silkie of Sule Skerrie 135\n 32. The Wife of Usher\u2019s Well 136\n 33. A Lyke-Wake Dirge 138\n 34. The Unquiet Grave 140\n\n\n BOOK II\n\n 35. Hynd Horn 142\n 36. Hynd Etin 145\n 37. Erlinton 153\n 38. Earl Brand 157\n 39. The Douglas Tragedy 160\n 40. Glasgerion 163\n 41. King Estmere 167\n 42. Fair Annie 179\n 43. The Lass of Lochroyan 184\n 44. Young Bekie 193\n 45. Young Beichan 199\n 46. Childe Waters 205\n 47. Childe Maurice 214\n 48. Brown Adam 221\n 49. Jellon Grame 223\n 50. Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard 227\n 51. Lord Ingram and Childe Vyet 232\n 52. Fair Janet 237\n 53. Old Robin of Portingale 242\n 54. Lord Thomas and Fair Annet 247\n 55. Rose the Red and White Lily 253\n 56. Leesome Brand 262\n 57. Babylon 265\n 58. Prince Robert 267\n 59. Young Andrew 270\n 60. The Gay Goshawk 275\n 61. Willie\u2019s Lyke-Wake 280\n 62. Fair Margaret and Sweet William 281\n 63. The Twa Brothers 284\n 64. The Cruel Brother 287\n 65. Edward, Edward 290\n 66. Lord Randal 292\n 67. The Twa Corbies 293\n 68. The Three Ravens 294\n\n\n BOOK III\n\n 69. The Nut-Brown Maid 295\n 70. Fause Foodrage 308\n 71. The Fair Flower of Northumberland 314\n 72. Young John 318\n 73. Lady Maisry 320\n 74. Bonny Bee Ho\u2019m 326\n 75. Sir Patrick Spens 328\n 76. The Lord of Lorn 332\n 77. Edom o\u2019 Gordon 342\n 78. Lamkin 348\n 79. Hugh of Lincoln 353\n 80. The Heir of Linne 356\n 81. Fair Mary of Wallington 361\n 82. Young Waters 367\n 83. The Queen\u2019s Marie 369\n 84. The Outlaw Murray 374\n 85. Glenlogie 386\n 86. Lady Elspat 388\n 87. Jamie Douglas 390\n 88. Katharine Johnstone 395\n 89. Johnie Armstrong 398\n 90. Clyde Water 404\n 91. Young Benjie 409\n 92. Annan Water 413\n 93. Rare Willie Drowned in Yarrow 416\n 94. The Duke of Gordon\u2019s Daughter 417\n 95. The Bonny Earl of Murray 422\n 96. Bonny George Campbell 423\n\n\n BOOK IV\n\n 97. Judas 425\n 98. St. Stephen and King Herod 426\n 99. The Maid and the Palmer 428\n 100. The Falcon 430\n 101. The Cherry-Tree Carol 431\n 102. The Carnal and the Crane 434\n 103. Jolly Wat 439\n 104. I Saw Three Ships 442\n 105. The Twelve Good Joys 443\n 106. The Angel Gabriel 446\n 107. The Three Kings 448\n 108. The Innocents 451\n 109. Dives and Lazarus 455\n 110. The Holy Well 458\n 111. The Seven Virgins 460\n\n\n PART II\n\n\n BOOK V\n\n 112. Robyn and Gandelyn 462\n 113. The Birth of Robin Hood 465\n 114. Adam Bell, Clym of the Clough, and William of Clondesley 468\n 115. A Little Geste of Robin Hood and his Meiny 497\n 116. Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne 575\n 117. Robin Hood and the Monk 585\n 118. Robin Hood and the Curtal Friar 600\n 119. Robin Hood and the Butcher 607\n 120. Robin Hood and the Bishop of Hereford 612\n 121. Robin Hood and Alan a Dale 616\n 122. Robin Hood and the Widow\u2019s Three Sons 621\n 123. Robin Hood\u2019s Golden Prize 626\n 124. The Noble Fisherman 630\n 125. The Death of Robin Hood 635\n\n\n BOOK VI\n\n 126. Durham Field 640\n 127. The Battle of Otterburn 651\n 128. Chevy Chase 664\n 129. Northumberland Betrayed by Douglas 675\n 130. Sir Andrew Barton 684\n 131. The \u2018George Aloe\u2019 697\n 132. The \u2018Golden Vanity\u2019 701\n 133. John Dory 703\n 134. Willie Macintosh 704\n 135. The Bonnie House o\u2019 Airlie 705\n 136. Johnnie of Cockerslee 707\n 137. Kinmont Willie 712\n 138. Jock o\u2019 the Side 720\n 139. Hobbie Noble 726\n 140. Archie of Cawfield 732\n 141. Jamie Telfer in the Fair Dodhead 738\n 142. Dick o\u2019 the Cow 746\n 143. Hughie the Graeme 757\n 144. The Lochmaben Harper 759\n 145. The Fire of Frendraught 763\n 146. The Death of Parcy Reed 767\n 147. Baby Livingston 774\n 148. The Gypsy Countess 781\n 149. The Baron of Brackley 783\n 150. The Dowie Houms of Yarrow 786\n 151. Lord Maxwell\u2019s Last Goodnight 789\n 152. Helen of Kirconnell 792\n 153. The Lament of the Border Widow 793\n\n\n BOOK VII\n\n 154. Lady Alice 795\n 155. Lord Lovel 796\n 156. The Trees so High 798\n 157. The Brown Girl 800\n 158. Barbara Allen\u2019s Cruelty 802\n 159. The Gardener 804\n 160. The Lowlands o\u2019 Holland 806\n 161. The Spanish Lady\u2019s Love 807\n 162. The Bailiff\u2019s Daughter of Islington 811\n 163. The Blind Beggar\u2019s Daughter of Bednall-Green 813\n 164. The Loving Ballad of Lord Bateman 825\n 165. Mary Ambree 829\n 166. The Lady turned Serving-Man 832\n 167. The Simple Ploughboy 837\n 168. Cawsand Bay 839\n 169. The Greenland Fishery 841\n 170. The Old Cloak 843\n 171. Widdicombe Fair 845\n 172. Get Up and Bar the Door 847\n 173. King John and the Abbot of Canterbury 849\n 174. The Children in the Wood 854\n 175. The Suffolk Miracle 860\n 176. Bessie Bell and Mary Gray 865\n\n INDEX OF FIRST LINES 867\n\n\n\n\n _Certainly, I must confesse my own barbarousnes, I neuer heard the\n olde song of_ Percy _and_ Duglas _that I found not my heart mooued\n more then with a Trumpet._\n\n SIR PHILIP SIDNEY.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK I\n\n\n\n\n_1. Thomas the Rhymer_\n\n\n I\n\n True Thomas lay on Huntlie bank;\n A ferlie[5] he spied wi\u2019 his e\u2019e;\n And there he saw a ladye bright\n Come riding down by the Eildon Tree.\n\n II\n\n Her skirt was o\u2019 the grass-green silk,\n Her mantle o\u2019 the velvet fyne;\n At ilka tett[6] o\u2019 her horse\u2019s mane\n Hung fifty siller bells and nine.\n\n III\n\n True Thomas he pu\u2019d aff his cap,\n And louted low down on his knee:\n \u2018Hail to thee, Mary, Queen of Heaven!\n For thy peer on earth could never be.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n \u2018O no, O no, Thomas,\u2019 she said,\n \u2018That name does not belang to me;\n I\u2019m but the Queen o\u2019 fair Elfland,\n That am hither come to visit thee.\n\n V\n\n \u2018Harp and carp[7], Thomas,\u2019 she said;\n \u2018Harp and carp along wi\u2019 me;\n And if ye dare to kiss my lips,\n Sure of your bodie I will be.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Betide me weal, betide me woe,\n That weird[8] shall never daunten me.\u2019\n Syne he has kiss\u2019d her rosy lips,\n All underneath the Eildon Tree.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Now ye maun go wi\u2019 me,\u2019 she said,\n \u2018True Thomas, ye maun go wi\u2019 me;\n And ye maun serve me seven years,\n Thro\u2019 weal or woe as may chance to be.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n She\u2019s mounted on her milk-white steed,\n She\u2019s ta\u2019en true Thomas up behind;\n And aye, whene\u2019er her bridle rang,\n The steed gaed swifter than the wind.\n\n IX\n\n O they rade on, and farther on,\n The steed gaed swifter than the wind;\n Until they reach\u2019d a desert wide,\n And living land was left behind.\n\n X\n\n \u2018Light down, light down now, true Thomas,\n And lean your head upon my knee;\n Abide ye there a little space,\n And I will show you ferlies three.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018O see ye not yon narrow road,\n So thick beset wi\u2019 thorns and briers?\n That is the Path of Righteousness,\n Though after it but few inquires.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018And see ye not yon braid, braid road,\n That lies across the lily leven[9]?\n That is the Path of Wickedness,\n Though some call it the Road to Heaven.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018And see ye not yon bonny road\n That winds about the fernie brae?\n That is the Road to fair Elfland,\n Where thou and I this night maun gae.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018But, Thomas, ye sall haud your tongue,\n Whatever ye may hear or see;\n For speak ye word in Elflyn-land,\n Ye\u2019ll ne\u2019er win back to your ain countrie.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n O they rade on, and farther on,\n And they waded rivers abune the knee;\n And they saw neither sun nor moon,\n But they heard the roaring of the sea.\n\n XVI\n\n It was mirk, mirk night, there was nae starlight,\n They waded thro\u2019 red blude to the knee;\n For a\u2019 the blude that\u2019s shed on the earth\n Rins through the springs o\u2019 that countrie.\n\n XVII\n\n Syne they came to a garden green,\n And she pu\u2019d an apple frae a tree:\n \u2018Take this for thy wages, true Thomas;\n It will give thee the tongue that can never lee.\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018My tongue is my ain,\u2019 true Thomas he said;\n \u2018A gudely gift ye wad gie to me!\n I neither dought[10] to buy or sell\n At fair or tryst where I might be.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018I dought neither speak to prince or peer,\n Nor ask of grace from fair ladye!\u2019--\n \u2018Now haud thy peace, Thomas,\u2019 she said,\n \u2018For as I say, so must it be.\u2019\n\n XX\n\n He has gotten a coat of the even cloth[11],\n And a pair o\u2019 shoon of the velvet green;\n And till seven years were gane and past,\n True Thomas on earth was never seen.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[5] ferlie = marvel.\n\n[6] tett = tuft.\n\n[7] harp and carp = play and recite (as a minstrel).\n\n[8] weird = doom.\n\n[9] leven =? lawn.\n\n[10] dought = could.\n\n[11] even cloth = smooth cloth.\n\n\n\n\n_2. Tam Lin_\n\n\n I\n\n \u2018O I forbid you, maidens a\u2019,\n That wear gowd on your hair,\n To come or gae by Carterhaugh,\n For young Tam Lin is there.\n\n II\n\n \u2018For even about that knight\u2019s middle\n O\u2019 siller bells are nine;\n And nae maid comes to Carterhaugh\n And a maid returns again.\u2019\n\n III\n\n Fair Janet sat in her bonny bower,\n Sewing her silken seam,\n And wish\u2019d to be in Carterhaugh\n Amang the leaves sae green.\n\n IV\n\n She\u2019s lat her seam fa\u2019 to her feet,\n The needle to her tae[12],\n And she\u2019s awa\u2019 to Carterhaugh\n As fast as she could gae.\n\n V\n\n And she has kilted her green kirtle\n A little abune her knee;\n And she has braided her yellow hair\n A little abune her bree[13];\n And she has gaen for Carterhaugh\n As fast as she can hie.\n\n VI\n\n She hadna pu\u2019d a rose, a rose,\n A rose but barely ane,\n When up and started young Tam Lin;\n Says, \u2018Ladye, let alane.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018What gars ye pu\u2019 the rose, Janet?\n What gars ye break the tree?\n What gars ye come to Carterhaugh\n Without the leave o\u2019 me?\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Weel may I pu\u2019 the rose,\u2019 she says,\n \u2018And ask no leave at thee;\n For Carterhaugh it is my ain,\n My daddy gave it me.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n He\u2019s ta\u2019en her by the milk-white hand,\n And by the grass-green sleeve,\n He\u2019s led her to the fairy ground\n At her he ask\u2019d nae leave.\n\n X\n\n Janet has kilted her green kirtle\n A little abune her knee,\n And she has snooded her yellow hair\n A little abune her bree,\n And she is to her father\u2019s ha\u2019\n As fast as she can hie.\n\n XI\n\n But when she came to her father\u2019s ha\u2019,\n She look\u2019d sae wan and pale,\n They thought the lady had gotten a fright,\n Or with sickness she did ail.\n\n XII\n\n Four and twenty ladies fair\n Were playing at the ba\u2019,\n And out then came fair Janet\n Ance the flower amang them a\u2019.\n\n XIII\n\n Four and twenty ladies fair\n Were playing at the chess,\n And out then came fair Janet\n As green as onie glass.\n\n XIV\n\n Out then spak\u2019 an auld grey knight\n \u2019Lay owre the Castle wa\u2019,\n And says, \u2018Alas, fair Janet!\n For thee we\u2019ll be blam\u00e8d a\u2019.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Hauld your tongue, ye auld-faced knight,\n Some ill death may ye die!\n Father my bairn on whom I will,\n I\u2019ll father nane on thee.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018O if my love were an earthly knight,\n As he is an elfin gay,\n I wadna gie my ain true-love\n For nae laird that ye hae.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018The steed that my true-love rides on\n Is fleeter nor the wind;\n Wi\u2019 siller he is shod before,\n Wi\u2019 burning gold behind.\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n Out then spak\u2019 her brither dear--\n He meant to do her harm:\n \u2018There grows an herb in Carterhaugh\n Will twine[14] you an\u2019 the bairn.\u2019\n\n XIX\n\n Janet has kilted her green kirtle\n A little abune her knee,\n And she has snooded her yellow hair\n A little abune her bree,\n And she\u2019s awa\u2019 to Carterhaugh\n As fast as she can hie.\n\n XX\n\n She hadna pu\u2019d a leaf, a leaf,\n A leaf but only twae,\n When up and started young Tam Lin,\n Says, \u2018Ladye, thou\u2019s pu\u2019 nae mae.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018How dar\u2019 ye pu\u2019 a leaf?\u2019 he says,\n \u2018How dar\u2019 ye break the tree?\n How dar\u2019 ye scathe[15] my babe,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018That\u2019s between you and me?\u2019\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018O tell me, tell me, Tam,\u2019 she says,\n \u2018For His sake that died on tree,\n If ye were ever in holy chapel\n Or sain\u2019d[16] in Christentie?\u2019\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018The truth I\u2019ll tell to thee, Janet,\n Ae word I winna lee;\n A knight me got, and a lady me bore,\n As well as they did thee.\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018Roxburgh he was my grandfather,\n Took me with him to bide;\n And ance it fell upon a day,\n As hunting I did ride,\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018There came a wind out o\u2019 the north,\n A sharp wind an\u2019 a snell[17],\n A dead sleep it came over me\n And frae my horse I fell;\n And the Queen o\u2019 Fairies she took me\n In yon green hill to dwell.\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018And pleasant is the fairy land\n For those that in it dwell,\n But ay at end of seven years\n They pay a teind[18] to hell;\n I am sae fair and fu\u2019 o\u2019 flesh\n I\u2019m fear\u2019d \u2019twill be mysell.\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018But the night is Hallowe\u2019en, Janet,\n The morn is Hallowday;\n Then win me, win me, an ye will,\n For weel I wat ye may.\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018The night it is gude Hallowe\u2019en,\n The fairy folk do ride,\n And they that wad their true-love win,\n At Miles Cross they maun bide.\u2019--\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018But how should I you ken, Tam Lin,\n How should I borrow[19] you,\n Amang a pack of uncouth[20] knights\n The like I never saw?\u2019--\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018You\u2019ll do you down to Miles Cross\n Between twel\u2019 hours and ane,\n And fill your hands o\u2019 the holy water\n And cast your compass roun\u2019.\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018The first company that passes by,\n Say na, and let them gae;\n The neist company that passes by,\n Say na, and do right sae;\n The third company that passes by,\n Then I\u2019ll be ane o\u2019 thae.\n\n XXXII\n\n \u2018O first let pass the black, ladye,\n And syne let pass the brown;\n But quickly run to the milk-white steed,\n Pu\u2019 ye his rider down.\n\n XXXIII\n\n \u2018For some ride on the black, ladye,\n And some ride on the brown;\n But I ride on a milk-white steed,\n A gowd star on my crown:\n Because I was an earthly knight\n They gie me that renown.\n\n XXXIV\n\n \u2018My right hand will be gloved, ladye,\n My left hand will be bare,\n And thae\u2019s the tokens I gie thee:\n Nae doubt I will be there.\n\n XXXV\n\n \u2018Ye\u2019ll tak\u2019 my horse then by the head\n And let the bridle fa\u2019;\n The Queen o\u2019 Elfin she\u2019ll cry out\n \u201cTrue Tam Lin he\u2019s awa\u2019!\u201d\n\n XXXVI\n\n \u2018They\u2019ll turn me in your arms, ladye,\n An aske[21] but and a snake;\n But hauld me fast, let me na gae,\n To be your warldis make[22].\n\n XXXVII\n\n \u2018They\u2019ll turn me in your arms, ladye,\n But and a deer so wild;\n But hauld me fast, let me na gae,\n The father o\u2019 your child.\n\n XXXVIII\n\n \u2018They\u2019ll shape me in your arms, ladye,\n A hot iron at the fire;\n But hauld me fast, let me na go,\n To be your heart\u2019s desire.\n\n XXXIX\n\n \u2018They\u2019ll shape me last in your arms, Janet,\n A mother-naked man;\n Cast your green mantle over me,\n And sae will I be won.\u2019\n\n XL\n\n Janet has kilted her green kirtle\n A little abune the knee;\n And she has snooded her yellow hair\n A little abune her bree,\n And she is on to Miles Cross\n As fast as she can hie.\n\n XLI\n\n About the dead hour o\u2019 the night\n She heard the bridles ring;\n And Janet was as glad at that\n As any earthly thing.\n\n XLII\n\n And first gaed by the black, black steed,\n And syne gaed by the brown;\n But fast she gript the milk-white steed\n And pu\u2019d the rider down.\n\n XLIII\n\n She\u2019s pu\u2019d him frae the milk-white steed,\n An\u2019 loot[23] the bridle fa\u2019,\n And up there rase an eldritch[24] cry,\n \u2018True Tam Lin he\u2019s awa\u2019!\u2019\n\n XLIV\n\n They shaped him in her arms twa\n An aske but and a snake;\n But aye she grips and hau\u2019ds him fast\n To be her warldis make.\n\n XLV\n\n They shaped him in her arms twa\n But and a deer sae wild;\n But aye she grips and hau\u2019ds him fast,\n The father o\u2019 her child.\n\n XLVI\n\n They shaped him in her arms twa\n A hot iron at the fire;\n But aye she grips and hau\u2019ds him fast\n To be her heart\u2019s desire.\n\n XLVII\n\n They shaped him in her arms at last\n A mother-naked man;\n She cast her mantle over him,\n And sae her love she wan.\n\n XLVIII\n\n Up then spak\u2019 the Queen o\u2019 Fairies,\n Out o\u2019 a bush o\u2019 broom,\n \u2018She that has borrow\u2019d young Tam Lin\n Has gotten a stately groom.\u2019\n\n XLIX\n\n Out then spak\u2019 the Queen o\u2019 Fairies,\n And an angry woman was she,\n \u2018She\u2019s ta\u2019en awa\u2019 the bonniest knight\n In a\u2019 my companie!\n\n L\n\n \u2018But what I ken this night, Tam Lin,\n Gin I had kent yestreen,\n I wad ta\u2019en out thy heart o\u2019 flesh,\n And put in a heart o\u2019 stane.\n\n LI\n\n \u2018And adieu, Tam Lin! But gin I had kent\n A ladye wad borrow\u2019d thee,\n I wad ta\u2019en out thy twa grey e\u2019en\n Put in twa e\u2019en o\u2019 tree[25].\n\n LII\n\n \u2018And had I the wit yestreen, yestreen,\n That I have coft[26] this day,\n I\u2019d paid my teind seven times to hell\n Ere you had been won away!\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[12] tae = toe.\n\n[13] bree = eye-brow.\n\n[14] twine = part, sunder.\n\n[15] scathe = harm.\n\n[16] sain\u2019d = blessed, baptised.\n\n[17] snell = keen, cold.\n\n[18] teind = tithe.\n\n[19] borrow = ransom.\n\n[20] uncouth = unknown.\n\n[21] aske = newt, lizard.\n\n[22] make = mate, husband.\n\n[23] loot = let.\n\n[24] eldritch = unearthly.\n\n[25] tree = wood.\n\n[26] coft = bought.\n\n\n\n\n_3. Sir Cawline_\n\n\n I\n\n _Jesus, Lord mickle of might,\n That dyed for us on roode,\n So maintaine us in all our right\n That loves true English blood!_\n\n II\n\n Sir Cawline [was an English knight]\n Curteous and full hardye;\n [And our King has lent him] forth to fight,\n Into Ireland over the sea.\n\n III\n\n And in that land there dwells a King,\n Over all the bell does beare;\n And he hath a ladye to his daughter,\n Of fashion[27] she hath no peere;\n Knights and lordes they woo\u2019d her both,\n Trusted to have been her feere[28].\n\n IV\n\n Sir Cawline loves her best of onie,\n But nothing durst he say\n To discreeve[29] his councell to no man,\n But dearlye loved this may[30].\n\n V\n\n Till it befell upon a day,\n Great dill[31] to him was dight[32];\n The mayden\u2019s love removed his mind,\n To care-bed[33] went the knight.\n\n VI\n\n One while he spread his armes him fro,\n And cryed so pittyouslye:\n \u2018For the mayden\u2019s love that I have most minde\n This day shall comfort mee,\n Or else ere noone I shall be dead!\u2019\n Thus can Sir Cawline say.\n\n VII\n\n When the parish mass that itt was done,\n And the King was bowne[34] to dine,\n Says, \u2018Where is Sir Cawline, that was wont\n To serve me with ale and wine?\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n But then answer\u2019d a curteous knight\n Fast his hands wring\u00ecnge:\n \u2018Sir Cawline\u2019s sicke and like to be dead\n Without and a good leech\u00ecnge[35].\u2019\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Feitch ye downe my daughter deere,\n She is a leeche full fine;\n Ay, and take you doe and the baken bread,\n And [drinke he of] the wine soe red,\n And looke no daynty\u2019s for him too deare,\n For full loth I wo\u2019ld him tine[36].\u2019\n\n X\n\n This ladye is gone to his chamber,\n Her maydens following nye;\n \u2018O well,\u2019 she saith, \u2018how doth my lord?\u2019\n \u2018O sicke!\u2019 againe saith hee.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018But rise up wightlye[37], man, for shame!\n Ne\u2019er lie here soe cowardlye!\n Itt is told in my father\u2019s hall\n For my love you will dye.\u2019--\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Itt is for your love, fayre ladye,\n That all this dill I drie;\n For if you wo\u2019ld comfort me with a kisse,\n Then were I brought from bale to bliss,\n No longer here wo\u2019ld I lye.\u2019--\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018Alas! soe well you know, Sir Knight,\n I cannot be your feere.\u2019--\n \u2018Yet some deeds of armes fain wo\u2019ld I doe\n To be your bacheleere.\u2019--\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018On Eldritch Hill there grows a thorn,\n Upon the mores[38] brodinge[39];\n And wo\u2019ld you, Sir Knight, wake there all night\n To day of the other morninge?\n\n XV\n\n \u2018For the Eldritch King, that is mickle of might,\n Will examine[40] you beforne[41]:\n There was never a man bare his life away\n Since the day that I was born.\u2019--\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018But I will for your sake, ladye,\n Walk on the bents[42] soe browne,\n And I\u2019ll either bring you a readye token,\n Or I\u2019ll ne\u2019er come to you again.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n But this ladye is gone to her chamber,\n Her maydens following bright;\n And Sir Cawline\u2019s gone to the mores soe broad,\n For to wake there all night.\n\n XVIII\n\n Unto midnight that the moone did rise\n He walk\u00e8d up and downe,\n And a lightsome bugle then heard he blow\n Over the bents so browne;\n Sayes he, \u2018And if cryance[43] come to my heart,\n I am farr from any good towne.\u2019\n\n XIX\n\n And he spy\u00e8d, e\u2019en a little him by,\n A furyous king and a fell,\n And a ladye bright his brydle led\n [More] seemlye [than onie can tell].\n\n XX\n\n Soe fast he call\u2019d on Sir Cawline,\n \u2018O man, I rede thee flye!\n For if cryance come untill thy heart\n I\u2019m afeard lest thou maun dye!\u2019--\n\n XXI\n\n He sayes, \u2018No cryance comes to my heart,\n Nor i\u2019faith I fear not thee;\n For because thou ming\u2019d[44] not Christ before,\n The lesse me dreadeth thee.\u2019\n\n XXII\n\n But Sir Cawline then he shooke a speare;\n The King was bold, and abode:\n And the timber those two children bare\n Soe soon in sunder slode[45]:\n Forth they tooke and two good swords,\n And they layden on good loade[46].\n\n XXIII\n\n The Eldritch King was mickle of might,\n And stiffly to the ground did stand;\n But Sir Cawline with an aukeward[47] stroke\n He brought from him his hand--\n Ay, and flying over his head so hye\n It fell down of that lay land[48].\n\n XXIV\n\n His ladye stood a little thereby,\n Fast her hands wring\u00ecnge:\n \u2018For the mayden\u2019s love that you have most minde,\n Smyte you noe more [this King].\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018And he\u2019s never[49] come upon Eldritch Hill\n Him to sport, gammon or play,\n And to meet no man of middle-earth[50]\n That lives on Christ his lay[51].\u2019\n\n XXVI\n\n But he then up, that Eldritch King,\n Set him in his sadle againe,\n And that Eldritch King and his ladye\n To their castle are they gone.\n\n XXVII\n\n Sir Cawline took up that eldritch sword\n As hard as any flynt,\n Soe did he [the hand with] ring\u00e8s five\n Harder than fyer, and brent[52].\n\n XXVIII\n\n The watchmen cryed upon the walls\n And sayd, \u2018Sir Cawline\u2019s slaine!\u2019\n Then the King\u2019s daughter she fell downe,\n \u2018For peerlesse is my payne!\u2019--\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018O peace, my ladye!\u2019 sayes Sir Cawline,\n \u2018I have bought thy love full deare;\n O peace, my ladye!\u2019 sayes Sir Cawline,\n \u2018Peace, ladye, for I am heere!\u2019\n\n XXX\n\n He\u2019s presented to the King\u2019s daughter\n The hand, and then the sword\n [And he has claimed the King\u2019s daughter\n According to her word].\n\n XXXI\n\n And the King has betaken[53] him his broad lands\n And all his venison[54];\n [Sayes] \u2018Thou shalt have my daughter deare,\n [And be my onelye son\u2019].\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[27] fashion = form, beauty.\n\n[28] feere = mate, consort.\n\n[29] discreeve = discover.\n\n[30] may = maid.\n\n[31] dill = dole, grief.\n\n[32] dight = ordained.\n\n[33] care-bed = sick-bed.\n\n[34] bowne = made ready, gone.\n\n[35] without and, &c. = unless he have a good leech, or physician.\n\n[36] tine = lose.\n\n[37] wightlye = briskly, stoutly.\n\n[38] mores = moors.\n\n[39] brodinge = growing, sprouting.\n\n[40] examine = put to the test.\n\n[41] beforne = before (morning).\n\n[42] bents = rough grasses.\n\n[43] cryance = yielding, cowardice.\n\n[44] ming\u2019d = mentioned, spoke the name of.\n\n[45] slode = split.\n\n[46] good loade = heavily.\n\n[47] aukeward = back-handed.\n\n[48] lay land = lea, land not under cultivation; here = ground.\n\n[49] he\u2019s never = he will never.\n\n[50] middle-earth = this earth, as midway between heaven and hell.\n\n[51] lay = law, faith.\n\n[52] brent = smooth.\n\n[53] betaken = given, made over.\n\n[54] venison = i. e. deer-forests.\n\n\n\n\n_4. Sir Aldingar_\n\n\n I\n\n Our King he kept a false steward,\n Men call\u2019d him Sir Aldingar;\n [He would have woo\u2019d our comely Queene\n To be his paramour].\n\n II\n\n He would have woo\u2019d our comely Queene,\n Her deere worship to betray:\n Our Queene she was a good woman\n And evermore said him nay.\n\n III\n\n Sir Aldingar was offended in \u2019s mind,\n With her he was ne\u2019er content,\n But he sought what mean\u00e8s he could find\n In a fyer to have her brent[55].\n\n IV\n\n There came a lame lazar to the King\u2019s gate,\n A lazar \u2019was blind and lame;\n He took the lazar upon his backe,\n Upon the Queene\u2019s bed did him lay.\n\n V\n\n Said, \u2018Lye still, lazar, whereas thou lyest,\n Looke thou goe not away;\n I\u2019le make thee a whole man and a sound\n In two howres of a day.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n And then went forth Sir Aldingar\n Our Queene for to betray,\n And then he met with our comely King,\n Says, \u2018God you save and see!\n\n VII\n\n \u2018If I had space, as I have grace,\n A message I\u2019d say to thee.\u2019--\n \u2018Say on, say on, Sir Aldingar,\n Say thou on and unto me.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018I can shew you one of the grievous\u2019t sights\n Ever Christian King did see;\n Our Queene hath chosen a new, new love,\n She will have none of thee.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018If she had chosen a right good knight,\n The lesse had beene her shame;\n But she hath chosen a lazar man\n Which is both blind and lame.\u2019--\n\n X\n\n \u2018If this be true, Sir Aldingar,\n That thou dost tell to me,\n Then will I make thee a rich knight\n Both of gold and fee.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018But if it be false, Sir Aldingar,\n That thou dost tell to me,\n Then looke thou for no other death\n But to be hang\u2019d on tree.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n When the King came into the Queene\u2019s chamber,\n Standing her bed before,\n \u2018There\u2019s a lodly[56] lome[57],\u2019 says Harry the King\n For our dame Queene Elinor!\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018If thou were a man, as thou art none,\n It is here thou shouldest dye;\n But a paire of new gallowes shall be built,\n Thou\u2019st hang on them soe hye.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018And a fayre fyer there shall be bett[58],\n And brent our Queene shall been.\u2019\n Forth then walk\u2019d our comely King,\n And met with our comely Queene.\n\n XV\n\n Saies, \u2018God you save our Queene, Madam,\n And Christ you save and see!\n Here you have chosen a new, new love,\n And you will have none of mee.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018If you had chosen a right good knight,\n The lesse had beene your shame;\n But you have chosen a lazar man\n That is both blind and lame.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018Ever alacke!\u2019 said our comely Queene,\n \u2018Sir Aldingar he is false;\n But ever alacke!\u2019 said our comely Queene,\n \u2018And woe is me, and alas!\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018I had thought swevens[59] had never been true\n I have proved them true [today]:\n I dream\u2019d in my swevens on Thursday at even\n In my bed wheras I lay,\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018I dream\u00e8d a grype[60] and a grimlie beast\n Had carried my crowne away,\n My gorget and my kirtle of golde,\n And all my heade-geare [gay].\n\n XX\n\n \u2018He wo\u2019ld have worryed me with his tush[61],\n And borne me into his nest,\n Saving there came a little hawke\n Flying out of the east.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018--Saving there came a little hawke\n Which men call a merlion[62];\n He stroke him downe untill the ground,\n That deade he did fall downe.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018Gif I were a man, as I am none,\n A battell I wo\u2019ld prove;\n I wo\u2019ld fight with that false traitor;\n At him I cast my glove!\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018Seeing I am able noe battell to make,\n You must grant me, my liege, a knight,\n To fight with that traitor, Sir Aldingar,\n To maintaine me in my right.\u2019\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018I\u2019le give thee forty dayes,\u2019 said our King,\n \u2018To seeke thee a man therein;\n If thou find not a man in forty dayes,\n In a hott fyer thou shalt brenn.\u2019\n\n XXV\n\n Our Queene sent forth a messenger;\n He rode fast into the south;\n He rode the countryes through and through\n Soe far unto Portsmouth.\n\n XXVI\n\n [But for all his riding ne\u2019er sped he\n To fetch help to our Queene;]\n He co\u2019ld find noe man in the south countr\u1ef3\n \u2018Wo\u2019ld fight with the knight soe keene.\n\n XXVII\n\n The second messenger shee sent forth,\n Rode far into the east;\n But--bless\u00e8d be God \u2019made sunn and moone!--\n He sped then all of the best.\n\n XXVIII\n\n As he rode then by one river side,\n There he mett with a little Child;\n He seem\u00e8d noe more in a man\u2019s likenesse\n Than a child of four yeeres old.\n\n XXIX\n\n He ask\u2019d the messenger how far he rode;\n Loth he was him to tell;\n The little one was offended att him,\n Bade him adieu, farewell.\n\n XXX\n\n Said, \u2018Turne thou againe, thou messenger,\n Greete our Queen well from me;\n When bale[63] is at hyest, boote[64] is at nyest--\n Helpe enough there may bee.\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018Bid our Queene remember what she did dreame\n In her bedd wheras shee lay;\n She dream\u00e8d the grype and the grimlie beast\n Had carryed her crowne away;\n\n XXXII\n\n \u2018Her gorgett and her kirtle of gold,\n Her head-geare [all soe drest]\n He wo\u2019ld have worryed her with his tush,\n And borne her into his nest.\n\n XXXIII\n\n \u2018Saving there came a little hawke,\n Men call him a merlion;\n \u2018Did strike him downe untill the ground\n That dead he did fall downe.\n\n XXXIV\n\n \u2018Bidd the Queene be merry att her heart,\n Evermore light and glad;\n When bale is at hyest, boote is at nyest,\n Helpe enough [shall be had\u2019].\n\n XXXV\n\n Then the Queen\u2019s messenger rode backe,\n A gladded man then was hee;\n When that he came before our Queene,\n A gladd woman then was shee.\n\n XXXVI\n\n She gave the messenger twenty pound,\n O Lord, in gold and fee;\n Saies, \u2018Spend, nor spare while this doth last,\n Then fetch thou more of me.\u2019\n\n XXXVII\n\n Our Queene was put in a tunne[65] to burn;\n She thought noe thing but death:\n When they were ware of the Little One\n \u2019Came ryding forth of the east.\n\n XXXVIII\n\n With a mu[le and a bridle all of bells]\n A lovelye child was hee;\n When that he came to that fy\u00e9r\n He lighted the Queene full nigh.\n\n XXXIX\n\n Sayd, \u2018Draw away these brands of fyer\n \u2019Lie burning before our Queene,\n And fetch me hither Sir Aldingar\n That is a knight soe keene.\u2019\n\n XL\n\n When Aldingar saw that Little One,\n Full little of him hee thought;\n If there had been halfe a hundred such\n Of them he would not have wrought[66].\n\n XLI\n\n He sayd, \u2018Come hither, Sir Aldingar,\n Thou seemest as big as a fooder[67];\n I trust God ere I have done with thee\n God will send us an auger.\u2019\n\n XLII\n\n Sayes, \u2018The first stroke that\u2019s given, Sir Aldingar,\n I will give unto thee;\n And if the second give thou may,\n Looke then thou spare not mee.\u2019\n\n XLIII\n\n This Little One pull\u2019d forth a well good sword,\n I wis it well all of gilte.\n It cast a light there over that field,\n It shone soe all of gilte.\n\n XLIV\n\n He stroke the first stroke at Aldingar;\n [Noe second needed hee;\n At the first stroke] he stroke away\n His leggs [all] by the knee.\n\n XLV\n\n Sayes, \u2018Stand up, stand up, thou false traitor,\n And fight upon thy feete;\n For, an thou thrive as thou begins,\n Of a height we shall be meete[68].\u2019\n\n XLVI\n\n \u2018A priest, a priest,\u2019 sayes Aldingar,\n \u2018Me for to housel and shrive!\n A priest, a priest,\u2019 sayes Aldingar,\n \u2018While I am a man living alive!\n\n XLVII\n\n \u2018I would have courted our comely Queene;\n To it shee wo\u2019ld never consent;\n I thought to betray her to our King\n In a fyer to have her brent.\n\n XLVIII\n\n \u2018There came a lame lazar to the King\u2019s gate,\n A lazar both blind and lame;\n I took the lazar upon my back,\n Upon the Queene\u2019s bedd had him layn.\n\n XLIX\n\n \u2018I bade him, _Lye still, lazar_, where he lay,\n Looke he went not away;\n I wo\u2019ld make him a whole man and a sound\n In two houres of a day.\n\n L\n\n \u2018A priest, a priest,\u2019 sayes Aldingar,\n \u2018To shrive me cleane of hell!\n Ever alacke!\u2019 sayes Sir Aldingar,\n \u2018Falsing never doth well.\n\n LI\n\n \u2018Forgive, forgive me, Queene, Madam!\n For Christ\u2019s love forgive me!\u2019--\n \u2018God forgave his death, Aldingar,\n And freely I forgive thee.\u2019--\n\n LII\n\n \u2018Now take thy wife, thou King Harry,\n And love her as thou sho\u2019ld;\n Thy wife shee is as true to thee\n As stone lies in castle wall.\u2019\n\n LIII\n\n The lazar under the gallow tree\n [Grew] a pretty man and small:\n The lazar under the gallow tree\n Was made steward in King Harry\u2019s hall.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[55] brent = burnt.\n\n[56] lodly = loathly.\n\n[57] lome = thing.\n\n[58] bett = kindled.\n\n[59] swevens = dreams.\n\n[60] grype = gryphon.\n\n[61] tush = tusk, beak.\n\n[62] merlion = merlin, a small falcon.\n\n[63] bale = evil, trouble.\n\n[64] boote = help, remedy.\n\n[65] tunne = barrel.\n\n[66] wrought = recked.\n\n[67] fooder = tun.\n\n[68] meete = matched, equal.\n\n\n\n\n_5. Cospatrick_\n\n\n I\n\n Cospatrick has sent o\u2019er the faem:\n Cospatrick brought his ladye hame.\n\n II\n\n Full seven score ships have come her wi\u2019,\n The ladye by the grene-wood tree.\n\n III\n\n There was twal\u2019 and twal\u2019 wi\u2019 baken bread,\n And twal\u2019 and twal\u2019 wi\u2019 the goud sae red:\n\n IV\n\n And twal\u2019 and twal\u2019 wi\u2019 beer and wine,\n And twal\u2019 and twal\u2019 wi\u2019 muskadine:\n\n V\n\n And twal\u2019 and twal\u2019 wi\u2019 bouted[69] flour,\n And twal\u2019 and twal\u2019 wi\u2019 paramour[70].\n\n VI\n\n Sweet Willy was a Widow\u2019s son,\n And at her stirrup he did run.\n\n VII\n\n And she was clad in the finest pall[71],\n But aye she let the tears down fall.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018O lady, sits your saddle awry?\n Or is your steed for you owre high?\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Or are you mourning in your tide\n That you suld be Cospatrick\u2019s bride?\u2019\n\n X\n\n \u2018I am not mourning at this tide\n That I suld be Cospatrick\u2019s bride:\n\n XI\n\n \u2018But I am mourning in my mood\n That ever I left my mother good.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018But, bonny boy, come tell to me\n What is the custom o\u2019 your countrie?\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018The custom thereof, my dame,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018Will ill a gentle ladye please.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018Seven King\u2019s daughters has our lord wedded,\n And seven King\u2019s daughters has our lord bedded:\n\n XV\n\n \u2018But he\u2019s cutted their breasts frae their breast-bane,\n And sent them mourning hame again.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018But when you come to the palace yett[72],\n His mother a gowden chair will set:\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018And be you maid or be you nane,\n O sit you there till the day be dane.\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018And gin you\u2019re sure that you\u2019re a maid,\n Ye may gae safely him to wed:\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018But gif o\u2019 that ye be na sure,\n Then hire some damsel o\u2019 your bour.\u2019--\n\n XX\n\n O when she came to the palace yett,\n His mother a gowden chair did set:\n\n XXI\n\n The bonnie may was tired wi\u2019 ridin\u2019,\n Gae\u2019d sit her down ere she was bidden.\n\n XXII\n\n And was she maid or was she nane,\n She sat in it till the day was dune.\n\n XXIII\n\n And she\u2019s call\u2019d on her bour-woman,\n That waiting was into[73] her train:\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018Five thousand marks I\u2019ll gie to thee,\n To sleep this night with my lord for me.\u2019--\n\n XXV\n\n [\u2018But will it for my ladye plead,\n I\u2019se be the bride in my ladye\u2019s stead.\u2019]--\n\n XXVI\n\n When bells were rung and mass was sayne,\n And a\u2019 men unto bed were gane,\n\n XXVII\n\n Cospatrick and the bonny maid\n Into ae chamber they were laid.\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018Now speak to me, blankets, and speak to me, bed,\n And speak, thou sheet, inchanted web,\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018And speak, my brown sword, that winna lee[74],\n Is this a leal maiden that lies by me?\u2019\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018It is not a maid that you hae wedded,\n But it is a maid that you hae bedded:\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018It is a leal maiden that lies by thee,\n But not the maiden that it should be.\u2019\n\n XXXII\n\n Then out he sprang o\u2019 his bridal bed,\n And wrathfully his claiths on did:\n\n XXXIII\n\n And he has ta\u2019en him through the ha\u2019,\n And on his mother he did ca\u2019.\n\n XXXIV\n\n \u2018I am the most unhappy man\n That ever was in Christen land:\n\n XXXV\n\n \u2018I courted a maiden meik and mild,\n And I\u2019ve gat but a woman great wi\u2019 child.\u2019--\n\n XXXVI\n\n \u2018O stay, my son, into this ha\u2019,\n And sport ye wi\u2019 your merry men a\u2019.\n\n XXXVII\n\n \u2018And I\u2019ll gang to your painted bour,\n To see how it fares wi\u2019 your paramour.\u2019\n\n XXXVIII\n\n The carline[75] queen was stark and strang\n She gar\u2019d the door flee aff the ban[76].\n\n XXXIX\n\n \u2018O is your bairn to laird or loun[77],\n Or is it to your father\u2019s groom?\u2019--\n\n XL\n\n \u2018O hear me, mother, on my knee,\n Till my sad story I tell to thee.\n\n XLI\n\n \u2018O we were sisters, sisters seven;\n We were the fairest under heaven.\n\n XLII\n\n \u2018We had nae mair for our seven years\u2019 wark\n But to shape and sew the King\u2019s son a sark.\n\n XLIII\n\n \u2018It fell on a summer\u2019s afternoon,\n When a\u2019 our langsome task was done,\n\n XLIV\n\n \u2018We cast the kevils[78] us amang\n To see which suld to the grene-wood gang.\n\n XLV\n\n \u2018Ohone, alas! for I was the youngest,\n And aye my weird it was the hardest.\n\n XLVI\n\n \u2018The kevil it did on me fa\u2019,\n Which was the cause of a\u2019 my wae.\n\n XLVII\n\n \u2018For to the grene-wood I must gae,\n To pu\u2019 the red rose and the slae;\n\n XLVIII\n\n \u2018To pu\u2019 the red rose and the thyme\n To deck my mother\u2019s bour and mine.\n\n XLIX\n\n \u2018I hadna pu\u2019d a flower but ane,\n When by there came a gallant hende[79],\n\n L\n\n \u2018Wi\u2019 high-coll\u2019d[80] hose and laigh-coll\u2019d shoon,\n And he seem\u2019d to be some Kingis son.\n\n LI\n\n \u2018And be I a maid, or be I nae,\n He kept me there till the close o\u2019 day:\n\n LII\n\n \u2018And be I a maid or be I nane,\n He kept me there till the day was done.\n\n LIII\n\n \u2018He gae me a lock o\u2019 his yellow hair,\n And bade me keep it for ever mair:\n\n LIV\n\n \u2018He gae me a carknet[81] o\u2019 bonny beads,\n And bade me keep it against my needs.\n\n LV\n\n \u2018He gae to me a gay gold ring,\n And bade me keep it abune a\u2019 thing.\n\n LVI\n\n \u2018He gae to me a little pen-knife,\n And bade me keep it as my life.\u2019--\n\n LVII\n\n \u2018What did you wi\u2019 the tokens rare\n That ye got frae that gallant there?\u2019--\n\n LVIII\n\n \u2018O bring that coffer here to me,\n And a\u2019 the tokens ye sall see.\u2019\n\n LIX\n\n And aye she sought, and aye she flang[82]\n Until these four things cam\u2019 to her hand.\n\n LX\n\n \u2018Now stay here, daughter, your bour within,\n Till I gae parley with my son.\u2019\n\n LXI\n\n O she has ta\u2019en her thro\u2019 the ha\u2019,\n And on her son began to ca\u2019.\n\n LXII\n\n \u2018What did you wi\u2019 that gay gold ring\n I bade you keep abune a\u2019 thing?\n\n LXIII\n\n \u2018What did you wi\u2019 that little pen-knife\n I bade you keep while you had life?\n\n LXIV\n\n \u2018What did you wi\u2019 the bonny beads\n I bade you keep against your needs?\u2019--\n\n LXV\n\n \u2018I gae them to a ladye gay\n I met i\u2019 the grene-wood on a day.\n\n LXVI\n\n \u2018But I wad gie a\u2019 my ha\u2019s and tours,\n I had that bright burd in my bours:\n\n LXVII\n\n \u2018But I wad gie my very life\n I had that ladye to my wife!\u2019\n\n LXVIII\n\n \u2018Now keep, my son, your ha\u2019s and tours;\n Ye have that bright burd in your bours.\n\n LXIX\n\n \u2018And keep, my son, your very life,\n Ye have that ladye to your wife.\u2019\n\n LXX\n\n Now, or a month was come and gane,\n The ladye bore him a bonny son.\n\n LXXI\n\n And it was well written on his breast-bane,\n \u2018Cospatrick is my father\u2019s name.\u2019\n\n LXXII\n\n _O rowe[83] my ladye in satin and silk,\n And wash my son in the morning milk!_\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[69] bouted = bolted, sifted.\n\n[70] paramour = _meaning here uncertain_.\n\n[71] pall = fine cloth.\n\n[72] yett = gate.\n\n[73] into = in.\n\n[74] lee = lie.\n\n[75] carline = old woman.\n\n[76] ban = band, hinge.\n\n[77] laird or loun = squire or common fellow.\n\n[78] kevils = lots.\n\n[79] hende = courteous youth.\n\n[80] high-coll\u2019d, laigh-coll\u2019d = high-cut, low-cut.\n\n[81] carknet = necklace.\n\n[82] flang = flung about, rummaged violently.\n\n[83] rowe = roll, wrap.\n\n\n\n\n_6. Willy\u2019s Lady_\n\n\n I\n\n Sweet Willy\u2019s ta\u2019en him o\u2019er the faem,\n He\u2019s woo\u2019d a wife and brought her hame.\n\n II\n\n He\u2019s woo\u2019d her for her yellow hair,\n But his mither wrought her mickle care;\n\n III\n\n And mickle dolour gar\u2019d her drie[84],\n For lighter[85] she can never be.\n\n IV\n\n But in her bower she sits wi\u2019 pain,\n And Willy mourns o\u2019er her in vain.\n\n V\n\n And to his mither he has gane;\n That vile rank witch of vilest kind.\n\n VI\n\n He says: \u2018My ladie has a cup\n Wi\u2019 gowd and silver set about.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018This goodlie gift shall be your ain,\n And let her be lighter o\u2019 her young bairn.\u2019--\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Of her young bairn she\u2019ll ne\u2019er be lighter,\n Nor in her bower to shine the brighter:\n\n IX\n\n \u2018But she shall die and turn to clay,\n And you shall wed another may.\u2019--\n\n X\n\n \u2018Another may I\u2019ll marry nane,\n Another may I\u2019ll ne\u2019er bring hame.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n But sighing says his bonnie wife,\n \u2018I wish this was an end o\u2019 my life!\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Yet gae ye unto your mither again,\n That vile rank witch of vilest kind.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018And say: My ladie has a steed,\n The like o\u2019 him \u2019s no in the lands of Leed.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018For at ilka tett[86] o\u2019 that horse\u2019s mane\n There\u2019s a golden chess[87] and a bell ring\u00edng.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018This goodlie gift shall be your ain,\n And let her be lighter o\u2019 her young bairn.\u2019--\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018O\u2019 her young bairn she\u2019ll ne\u2019er be lighter,\n Nor in her bower to shine the brighter;\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018But she shall die and turn to clay,\n And ye shall wed another may.\u2019--\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018Another may I\u2019ll marry nane,\n Another may I\u2019ll ne\u2019er bring hame.\u2019\n\n XIX\n\n But sighing says his bonnie wife,\n \u2018I wish this was an end o\u2019 my life!\n\n XX\n\n \u2018Yet gae ye unto your mither again,\n That vile rank witch of vilest kind:\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018And say: My ladie has a girdle,\n It\u2019s a\u2019 red gowd unto the middle.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018And ay at every silver hem\n Hangs fifty silver bells and ten.\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018That goodlie gift shall be your ain,\n But let her be lighter o\u2019 her young bairn.\u2019--\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018O\u2019 her young bairn she\u2019s ne\u2019er be lighter,\n Nor in her bower to shine the brighter:\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018But she shall die and turn to clay,\n And you shall wed another may.\u2019--\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018Another may I\u2019ll never wed nane,\n Another may I\u2019ll never bring hame.\u2019\n\n XXVII\n\n But sighing says his bonnie wife,\n \u2018I wish this was an end o\u2019 my life!\u2019\n\n XXVIII\n\n Then out and spake the Billy Blind[88]--\n He spake aye in a good time;\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018Ye doe ye to the market-place,\n And there buy ye a loaf o\u2019 wax;\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018Ye shape it bairn and bairnly like,\n And in twa glasses e\u2019en ye\u2019ll pit[89].\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018And do ye to your mither then,\n And bid her come to your boy\u2019s christ\u2019nen,\n\n XXXII\n\n \u2018For dear\u2019s the boy he\u2019s been to you:\n Then notice weel what she shall do:\n\n XXXIII\n\n \u2018And do you stand a little away,\n And listen weel what she shall say.\u2019\n\n XXXIV\n\n He did him to the market-place,\n And there he bought a loaf o\u2019 wax.\n\n XXXV\n\n He shaped it bairn and bairnly-like,\n And in \u2019t twa glasses e\u2019en he pat[90].\n\n XXXVI\n\n He did him till his mither then,\n And bade her to his boy\u2019s christ\u2019nen.\n\n XXXVII\n\n And he did stand a little forbye[91],\n And noticed well what she did say.\n\n XXXVIII\n\n \u2018O wha has loosed the nine witch-knots\n That was among that ladie\u2019s locks?\n\n XXXIX\n\n \u2018And wha has ta\u2019en out the kaims[92] o\u2019 care\n That hangs among that ladie\u2019s hair?\n\n XL\n\n \u2018And wha\u2019s ta\u2019en down the bush o\u2019 woodbine\n That hangs atween her bower and mine?\n\n XLI\n\n \u2018And wha has kill\u2019d the master kid\n That ran aneath that ladie\u2019s bed?\n\n XLII\n\n \u2018And wha has loosed her left-foot shee[93]\n And letten that ladie lighter be?\u2019\n\n XLIII\n\n Syne Willy has loosed the nine witch-knots\n That was among his ladie\u2019s locks:\n\n XLIV\n\n And Willy\u2019s ta\u2019en out the kaims o\u2019 care\n That hang among his ladie\u2019s hair:\n\n XLV\n\n And Willy\u2019s ta\u2019en down the bush o\u2019 woodbine\n That hang atween her bower and thine:\n\n XLVI\n\n And Willy has kill\u2019d the master kid\n That ran aneath his ladie\u2019s bed:\n\n XLVII\n\n And Willy has loosed her left-foot shee,\n And letten his ladie lighter be.\n\n XLVIII\n\n And now he\u2019s gotten a bonny young son,\n And mickle grace be him upon!\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[84] gar\u2019d her drie = caused her to suffer.\n\n[85] lighter = i. e. delivered of her child.\n\n[86] tett = tuft.\n\n[87] chess =? jess, strap.\n\n[88] Billy Blind = a Brownie, or friendly House-spirit.\n\n[89] pit = put.\n\n[90] pat = did put.\n\n[91] forbye = aside.\n\n[92] kaims = combs.\n\n[93] shee = shoe.\n\n\n\n\n_7. The Queen of Elfland\u2019s Nourice_\n\n\n I\n\n _\u2018I heard a cow low, a bonnie cow low,\n And a cow low down in yon glen:\n Lang, lang will my young son greet[94]\n Or his mither bid him come ben[95]!_\n\n II\n\n _\u2018I heard a cow low, a bonnie cow low,\n And a cow low down in yon fauld:\n Lang, lang will my young son greet\n Or his mither take him frae cauld!\u2019_\n\n III\n\n [The Queen of Elfan\u2019s nourice[96]\n She sits and sings her lane]\n \u2018Waken, Queen of Elfan\n And hear your nourice moan.\u2019--\n\n IV\n\n \u2018O moan ye for your meat,\n Or moan ye for your fee,\n Or moan ye for the ither bounties\n That ladies are wont to gie?\u2019--\n\n V\n\n \u2018I moan na for my meat,\n Nor moan I for my fee,\n Nor moan I for the ither bounties\n That ladies are wont to gie.\n\n VI\n\n [\u2018But I heard a bonnie cow\n Low down in yonder fauld]\n And I moan for my young son\n I left in four nights auld.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018I moan na for my meat,\n Nor yet for my fee;\n But I moan for Christen land;\n It\u2019s there I fain would be.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018O nurse my bairn, nourice,\n Till he stan\u2019 at your knee,\n An ye\u2019s win hame to Christen land\n Whar fain it\u2019s ye wad be.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018O keep my bairn, nourice,\n Till he gang by the hauld[97],\n An ye\u2019s win hame to your young son\n Ye left in four nights auld.\n\n X\n\n \u2018O nourice lay your head\n [Here] upo\u2019 my knee:\n See ye not that narrow road\n Up by yonder tree?\n\n XI\n\n [\u2018See ye not the narrow road\n By yon lillie leven?]\n That\u2019s the road the righteous goes\n And that\u2019s the road to heaven.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018An\u2019 see na ye that braid road\n Down by yon sunny fell?\n Yon\u2019s the road the wicked gae,\n An\u2019 that\u2019s the road to hell.\n\n XIII\n\n [\u2018An\u2019 see na ye that bonny road\n About the fernie brae?\n That wins back frae Elfland\n Where you must wait to gae.\u2019]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[94] _greet_ = cry.\n\n[95] _ben_ = to the inner room.\n\n[96] nourice = nurse.\n\n[97] gang by the hauld = walk by holding on to the hand.\n\n\n\n\n_8. Lady Isabel and the Elf-Knight_\n\n\n I\n\n _My plaid awa\u2019, my plaid awa\u2019,\n And o\u2019er the hill and far awa\u2019;\n And far awa\u2019 to Norrowa\u2019,\n My plaid shall not be blown awa\u2019!_\n\n II\n\n Lady Isabel sits in her bower sewing,\n _Aye as the gowans[98] grow gay_--\n She heard an elf-knight his horn blawing,\n The first morning in May.\n\n III\n\n The elfin-knight sits on yon hill,\n He blaws his horn baith loud and shrill.\n\n IV\n\n He blaws it east, he blaws it west,\n He blaws it where he lyketh best.\n\n V\n\n \u2018I wish that horn were in my kist[99],\n Yea, and the knight in my arms niest[100].\u2019\n\n VI\n\n She had no sooner these words said,\n When that knight came to her bed.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Thou art owre young a maid,\u2019 quoth he,\n \u2018Married with me thou ill wouldst be.\u2019--\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018I have a sister younger than I,\n And she was married yesterday.\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Married with me if thou wouldst be,\n A courtesie thou must do to me.\n\n X\n\n \u2018For thou must shape a sark[101] to me\n Without any cut or hem,\u2019 quoth he.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018It\u2019s ye maun shape it knife-and-shurlesse,\n And also sew it needle-threedlesse.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018And ye maun wash it in yonder well,\n Where the dew never wat[102] nor the rain never fell.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018And ye maun dry it upon a thorn\n That never budded sin Adam was born.\u2019--\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018Now sin ye have asked some things o\u2019 me,\n It\u2019s right I ask as mony o\u2019 thee.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018My father he ask\u2019d me an acre o\u2019 land\n Between the saut sea and the strand.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018And ye maun are[103] it wi\u2019 your blawin\u2019 horn,\n And ye maun sow it wi\u2019 pepper corn.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018And ye maun harrow it with ae tyne[104],\n And ye maun shear it with ae horse bane.\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018And ye maun stack it in yon mouse-hole,\n And ye maun thresh it in yon shoe-sole.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018And ye maun winnow it in your loof[105],\n And ye maun sack it in your glove.\n\n XX\n\n \u2018And ye maun bring it owre the sea,\n Fair and clean and dry to me.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018And when ye\u2019ve done an\u2019 finish\u2019d your wark,\n Come to me, love, an\u2019 get your sark.\u2019\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018It\u2019s I\u2019ll not quit my plaid for my life;\n It haps my seven bairns and my wife.\u2019\n _The wind sall not blaw my plaid awa\u2019:_\n \u2018And it\u2019s I will keep me a maiden still,\n Let the elfin knight do what he will\u2019--\n _The wind has not blawn my plaid awa\u2019!_\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[98] _gowans_ = daisies.\n\n[99] kist = chest.\n\n[100] niest = next.\n\n[101] sark = shirt.\n\n[102] wat = wetted.\n\n[103] are = plough.\n\n[104] ae tyne = one harrow-point.\n\n[105] loof = palm.\n\n\n\n\n_9. The Riddling Knight_\n\n\n I\n\n There were three sisters fair and bright,\n _Jennifer, Gentle and Rosemary_,\n And they three loved one valiant knight--\n _As the dow[106] flies over the mulberry-tree_.\n\n II\n\n The eldest sister let him in,\n And barr\u2019d the door with a silver pin.\n\n III\n\n The second sister made his bed,\n And placed soft pillows under his head.\n\n IV\n\n The youngest sister that same night\n Was resolved for to wed wi\u2019 this valiant knight.\n\n V\n\n \u2018And if you can answer questions three,\n O then, fair maid, I\u2019ll marry wi\u2019 thee.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018O what is louder nor a horn,\n Or what is sharper nor a thorn?\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Or what is heavier nor the lead,\n Or what is better nor the bread?\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Or what is longer nor the way,\n Or what is deeper nor the sea?\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018O shame is louder nor a horn,\n And hunger is sharper nor a thorn.\n\n X\n\n \u2018O sin is heavier nor the lead,\n The blessing\u2019s better nor the bread.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018O the wind is longer nor the way\n And love is deeper nor the sea.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n [\u2018You have answer\u2019d aright my questions three,]\n _Jennifer, Gentle and Rosemary;_\n And now, fair maid, I\u2019ll marry wi\u2019 thee,\n _As the dow flies over the mulberry-tree._\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[106] _dow_ = dove.\n\n\n\n\n_10. May Colvin_\n\n\n I\n\n False Sir John a-wooing came\n To a maid of beauty fair;\n May Colvin was this lady\u2019s name,\n Her father\u2019s only heir.\n\n II\n\n He woo\u2019d her but[107], he woo\u2019d her ben,\n He woo\u2019d her in the ha\u2019;\n Until he got the lady\u2019s consent\n To mount and ride awa\u2019.\n\n III\n\n \u2018Go fetch me some of your father\u2019s gold,\n And some of your mother\u2019s fee,\n And I\u2019ll carry you into the north land,\n And there I\u2019ll marry thee.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n She\u2019s gane to her father\u2019s coffers\n Where all his money lay,\n And she\u2019s taken the red, and she\u2019s left the white,\n And so lightly she\u2019s tripp\u2019d away.\n\n V\n\n She\u2019s gane to her father\u2019s stable\n Where all the steeds did stand,\n And she\u2019s taken the best, and she\u2019s left the warst\n That was in her father\u2019s land.\n\n VI\n\n She\u2019s mounted on a milk-white steed,\n And he on a dapple-grey,\n And on they rade to a lonesome part,\n A rock beside the sea.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Loup[108] off the steed,\u2019 says false Sir John,\n \u2018Your bridal bed you see;\n Seven ladies I have drown\u00e8d here,\n And the eight\u2019 one you shall be.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Cast off, cast off your silks so fine\n And lay them on a stone,\n For they are too fine and costly\n To rot in the salt sea foam.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Cast off, cast off your silken stays,\n For and your broider\u2019d shoon,\n For they are too fine and costly\n To rot in the salt sea foam.\n\n X\n\n \u2018Cast off, cast off your Holland smock\n That\u2019s border\u2019d with the lawn,\n For it is too fine and costly\n To rot in the salt sea foam.\u2019--\n\n XI\n\n \u2018O turn about, thou false Sir John,\n And look to the leaf o\u2019 the tree;\n For it never became a gentleman\n A naked woman to see.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n He turn\u2019d himself straight round about\n To look to the leaf o\u2019 the tree;\n She\u2019s twined her arms about his waist\n And thrown him into the sea.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018O hold a grip o\u2019 me, May Colv\u00edn,\n For fear that I should drown;\n I\u2019ll take you home to your father\u2019s bower\n And safe I\u2019ll set you down.\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018No help, no help, thou false Sir John,\n No help, no pity thee!\n For you lie not in a caulder bed\n Than you thought to lay me.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n She mounted on her milk-white steed,\n And led the dapple-grey,\n And she rode till she reach\u2019d her father\u2019s gate,\n At the breakin\u2019 o\u2019 the day.\n\n XVI\n\n Up then spake the pretty parrot,\n \u2018May Colvin, where have you been?\n What has become o\u2019 false Sir John\n That went with you yestreen?\u2019--\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018O hold your tongue, my pretty parrot!\n Nor tell no tales o\u2019 me;\n Your cage shall be made o\u2019 the beaten gold\n And the spokes o\u2019 ivorie.\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n Up then spake her father dear,\n In the bed-chamber where he lay;\n \u2018What ails the pretty parrot,\n That prattles so long ere day?\u2019--\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018There came a cat to my cage, master,\n I thought \u2019t would have worried me,\n And I was calling to May Colv\u00edn\n To take the cat from me.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[107] but, ben = both in the outer and inner rooms.\n\n[108] loup = leap.\n\n\n\n\n_11. The Wee Wee Man_\n\n\n I\n\n As I was walking mine alane\n Atween a water and a wa\u2019,\n There I spied a wee wee man,\n And he was the least that ere I saw.\n\n II\n\n His legs were scant a shathmont\u2019s[109] length,\n And thick and thimber[110] was his thie[111];\n Atween his brows there was a span,\n And atween his shoulders there was three.\n\n III\n\n He\u2019s ta\u2019en and flung a meikle stane,\n And he flang \u2019t as far as I could see;\n Though I had been a Wallace wight\n I couldna liften \u2019t to my knee.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018O wee wee man, but ye be strang!\n O tell me where your dwelling be?\u2019\n \u2018My dwelling\u2019s down by yon bonny bower;\n Fair lady, come wi\u2019 me and see.\u2019\n\n V\n\n On we lap[112], and awa\u2019 we rade,\n Till we came to yon bonny green;\n We lighted down to bait our steed,\n And out there came a lady sheen[113];\n\n VI\n\n Wi\u2019 four and twenty at her back\n A\u2019 comely clad in glisterin\u2019 green;\n Tho\u2019 the King of Scotland had been there,\n The warst o\u2019 them might ha\u2019 been his queen.\n\n VII\n\n On we lap, and awa\u2019 we rade,\n Till we came to a bonny ha\u2019;\n The roof was o\u2019 the beaten gowd,\n And the floor was o\u2019 the cristal a\u2019.\n\n VIII\n\n When we came to the stair-foot,\n Ladies were dancing jimp[114] and sma\u2019,\n But in the twinkling of an eie\n My wee wee man was clean awa\u2019.\n\n IX\n\n Out gat the lights, on came the mist,\n Ladies nor mannie mair cou\u2019d I see:\n I turn\u2019d about, and gae a look\n Just at the foot o\u2019 Benachie.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[109] shathmont = measure from the point of the extended thumb to the\nextremity of the palm, six inches.\n\n[110] thimber = stout.\n\n[111] thie = thigh.\n\n[112] lap = leapt.\n\n[113] sheen = shining, beautiful.\n\n[114] jimp = slim, slender.\n\n\n\n\n_12. Alison Gross_\n\n\n I\n\n O Alison Gross, that lives in yon tow\u2019r,\n The ugliest witch i\u2019 the north countrie,\n Has trysted[115] me ae day up till her bow\u2019r\n And mony fair speeches she made to me.\n\n II\n\n She straik\u2019d my head an\u2019 she kaim\u2019d my hair,\n An\u2019 she set me down saftly on her knee;\n Says, \u2018Gin ye will be my lemman sae true,\n Sae mony braw things as I would you gie!\u2019\n\n III\n\n She show\u2019d me a mantle o\u2019 red scarl\u00e9t,\n Wi\u2019 gouden flowers an\u2019 fringes fine;\n Says, \u2018Gin ye will be my lemman[116] sae true,\n This gudely gift it sall be thine.\u2019--\n\n IV\n\n \u2018Awa\u2019, awa\u2019, ye ugly witch,\n Haud[117] far awa\u2019, an\u2019 lat me be!\n I never will be your lemman sae true,\n An\u2019 I wish I were out o\u2019 your company.\u2019\n\n V\n\n She neist brought a sark o\u2019 the saftest silk,\n Well wrought wi\u2019 pearls about the band;\n Says, \u2018Gin ye will be my lemman sae true,\n This gudely gift ye sall command.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n She show\u2019d me a cup o\u2019 the good red gowd,\n Well set wi\u2019 jewels sae fair to see;\n Says, \u2018Gin ye will be my lemman sae true,\n This gudely gift I will you gie.\u2019--\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Awa\u2019, awa\u2019, ye ugly witch,\n Haud far awa\u2019, an\u2019 lat me be!\n For I wouldna once kiss your ugly mouth\n For a\u2019 the gifts that ye could gie.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n She\u2019s turn\u2019d her right an\u2019 roun\u2019 about,\n An\u2019 thrice she blaw on a grass-green horn;\n An\u2019 she sware by the moon an\u2019 the stars abune\n That she\u2019d gar me rue the day I was born.\n\n IX\n\n Then out has she ta\u2019en a silver wand,\n An\u2019 she\u2019s turn\u2019d her three times roun\u2019 and roun\u2019;\n She mutter\u2019d sic words till my strength it fail\u2019d,\n An\u2019 I fell down senseless upon the groun\u2019.\n\n X\n\n She\u2019s turn\u2019d me into an ugly worm,\n And gar\u2019d me toddle about the tree;\n An\u2019 ay, on ilka Saturday\u2019s night,\n My sister Maisry came to me,\n\n XI\n\n Wi\u2019 silver bason an\u2019 silver kaim\n To kaim my headie upon her knee;\n But or I had kiss\u2019d [wi\u2019 Alison Gross]\n I\u2019d sooner ha\u2019 toddled about the tree.\n\n XII\n\n But as it fell out, on last Hallowe\u2019en,\n When the Seely Court[118] was ridin\u2019 by,\n The Queen lighted down on a gowany[119] bank\n Nae far frae the tree where I wont to lye.\n\n XIII\n\n She took me up in her milk-white han\u2019,\n An\u2019 she\u2019s straik\u2019d me three times o\u2019er her knee;\n She changed me again to my ain proper shape,\n An\u2019 nae mair I toddle about the tree.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[115] trysted = invited.\n\n[116] lemman = sweetheart.\n\n[117] haud = hold, keep.\n\n[118] Seely Court = the Happy Court (of the Fairies).\n\n[119] gowany = daisied.\n\n\n\n\n_13. Kemp Owyne_\n\n\n I\n\n Her mother died when she was young,\n Which gave her cause to make great moan;\n Her father married the warst woman\n That ever lived in Christendom.\n\n II\n\n She serv\u00e8d her wi\u2019 foot and hand\n In everything that she could dee[120],\n Till once, in an unlucky time\n She threw her owre a craig[121] o\u2019 the sea.\n\n III\n\n Says, \u2018Lie you there, dove Isabel,\n And all my sorrows lie wi\u2019 thee!\n Till Kemp[122] Owyne come to the craig,\n And borrow[123] you wi\u2019 kisses three.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n Her breath grew strang, her hair grew lang\n And twisted thrice about the tree,\n And all the people, far and near,\n Thought that a savage beast was she.\n\n V\n\n And aye she cried for Kemp Owyne\n Gin that he would but com\u2019 to her hand:--\n Now word has gane to Kemp Owyne\n That siccan[124] a beast was in his land.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Now by my sooth,\u2019 says Kemp Owyne,\n \u2018This fiery beast I\u2019ll gang to see\u2019;\n \u2018And by my sooth,\u2019 says Segramour,\n \u2018My ae brother, I\u2019ll gang you wi\u2019.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n O they have biggit[125] a bonny boat,\n And they have set her to the sea;\n But a mile before they reach\u2019d the shore\n I wot she gar\u2019d[126] the red fire flee.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018O brother, keep my boat afloat,\n An\u2019 lat her na the land so near!\n For the wicked beast she\u2019ll sure go mad,\n An\u2019 set fire to the land an\u2019 mair.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n Syne he has bent an arblast bow\n And aim\u2019d an arrow at her head,\n And swore, if she didna quit the land,\n Wi\u2019 that same shaft to shoot her dead.\n\n X\n\n \u2018O out o\u2019 my stythe[127] I winna rise--\n And it is na for the fear o\u2019 thee--\n Till Kemp Owyne, the kingis son,\n Come to the craig an\u2019 thrice kiss me.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n Her breath was strang, her hair was lang\n And twisted thrice about the tree,\n And with a swing she came about:\n \u2018Come to the craig, an\u2019 kiss with me!\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Here is a royal belt,\u2019 she cried,\n \u2018That I have found in the green sea;\n And while your body it is on,\n Drawn shall your blood never be;\n But if you touch me, tail or fin,\n I swear my belt your death shall be.\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n He\u2019s louted[128] him o\u2019er the Eastmuir craig,\n As out she swang and about the tree;\n He stepp\u00e8d in, gave her a kiss,\n The royal belt he brought him wi\u2019.\n\n XIV\n\n Her breath was strang, her hair was lang\n And twisted twice about the tree,\n As awa\u2019 she gid[129], and again she swang--\n \u2018Come to the craig, an\u2019 kiss with me!\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Here is a royal ring,\u2019 she said,\n \u2018That I have found in the green sea;\n And while your finger it is on,\n Drawn shall your blood never be;\n But if you touch me, tail or fin,\n I swear my ring your death shall be.\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n He\u2019s louted him o\u2019er the Eastmuir craig,\n As out she swang and about the tree;\n He stepp\u00e8d in, gave her a kiss,\n The royal ring he brought him wi\u2019.\n\n XVII\n\n Her breath was strang, her hair was lang\n And twisted ance about the tree,\n As awa\u2019 she gid and again she swang--\n \u2018Come to the craig, an\u2019 kiss with me!\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018Here is a royal brand,\u2019 she said,\n \u2018That I have found in the green sea;\n And while your body it is on,\n Drawn shall your blood never be;\n But if you touch me, tail or fin,\n I swear my brand your death shall be.\u2019\n\n XIX\n\n He\u2019s louted him o\u2019er the Eastmuir craig,\n As out she swang and about the tree;\n He stepp\u00e8d in, gave her a kiss\n That royal brand he brought him wi\u2019.\n\n XX\n\n Her breath was sweet, her hair grew short,\n And twisted nane about the tree,\n As awa\u2019 she gid and again she came\n The fairest lady that ever could be.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018O was it a wer-wolf into[130] the wood,\n Or was it a mermaid into the sea,\n Or was it a man or a vile woman,\n My true love, that mis-shapit thee?\u2019--\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018It was na wer-wolf into the wood,\n Nor was it mermaid into the sea,\n But and it was my vile stepmother,\n And wae and weary mote she be!\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018O a heavier weird shall light her on,\n Her hair sall grow rough an\u2019 her teeth grow lang,\n And [aye] on her four feet sall she gang,\n And aye in Wormeswood sall she won[131]!\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[120] dee = do.\n\n[121] craig = rock.\n\n[122] Kemp = champion, knight.\n\n[123] borrow = ransom.\n\n[124] siccan = such.\n\n[125] biggit = built.\n\n[126] gar\u2019d = made.\n\n[127] stythe = place, station.\n\n[128] louted = bowed.\n\n[129] gid = went.\n\n[130] into = in.\n\n[131] won = dwell.\n\n\n\n\n_14. The Laily Worm_\n\n_and the Machrel of the Sea_\n\n\n I\n\n \u2018I was but seven year auld\n When my mither she did dee;\n My father married the ae warst woman\n The warld did ever see.\n\n II\n\n \u2018For she has made me the laily[132] worm,\n That lies at the fit o\u2019 the tree,\n An\u2019 my sister Masery she\u2019s made\n The machrel of the sea.\n\n III\n\n \u2018An\u2019 every Saturday at noon\n The machrel comes to me,\n An\u2019 she takes my laily head\n An\u2019 lays it on her knee,\n She kaims it wi\u2019 a siller kaim,\n An\u2019 washes \u2019t in the sea.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018Seven knights hae I slain,\n Sin I lay at the fit of the tree,\n An\u2019 ye war na my ain father,\n The eighth ane ye should be.\u2019--\n\n V\n\n \u2018Sing on your song, ye laily worm,\n That ye did sing to me.\u2019--\n \u2018I never sung that song but what\n I would sing it to thee.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018I was but seven year auld,\n When my mither she did dee;\n My father married the ae warst woman\n The warld did ever see.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018For she changed me to the laily worm,\n That lies at the fit o\u2019 the tree,\n And my sister Masery\n To the machrel of the sea.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018And every Saturday at noon\n The machrel comes to me,\n An\u2019 she takes my laily head\n An\u2019 lays it on her knee,\n An\u2019 kames it wi\u2019 a siller kame,\n An\u2019 washes it i\u2019 the sea.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Seven knights hae I slain\n Sin I lay at the fit o\u2019 the tree;\n An\u2019 ye war na my ain father,\n The eighth ane ye should be.\u2019\n\n X\n\n He sent for his lady,\n As fast as send could he:\n \u2018Whar is my son that ye sent frae me,\n And my daughter, Lady Masery?\u2019--\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Your son is at our king\u2019s court,\n Serving for meat an\u2019 fee,\n An\u2019 your daughter\u2019s at our queen\u2019s court,\n The queen\u2019s maiden to be.\u2019--\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Ye lee, ye lee, ye ill woman,\n Sae loud as I hear ye lee;\n My son\u2019s the laily worm,\n That lies at the fit o\u2019 the tree,\n And my daughter, Lady Masery,\n Is the machrel of the sea!\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n She has tane a siller wan\u2019,\n An\u2019 gi\u2019en him strok\u00e8s three,\n And he\u2019s started up the bravest knight\n That ever your eyes did see.\n\n XIV\n\n She has ta\u2019en a small horn,\n An\u2019 loud an\u2019 shrill blew she,\n An\u2019 a\u2019 the fish came her untill\n But the machrel of the sea:\n \u2018Ye shapeit me ance an unseemly shape,\n An\u2019 ye\u2019s never mare shape me.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n He has sent to the wood\n For whins and for hawthorn,\n An\u2019 he has ta\u2019en that gay lady,\n An\u2019 there he did her burn.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[132] laily = loathly.\n\n\n\n\n_15. King Orfeo_\n\n_A Shetland Ballad._\n\n\n I\n\n Der lived a king inta da aste[133],\n _Scowan \u00fcrla gr\u00fcn_[134]\n Der lived a lady in da wast.\n _Whar giorten han gr\u00fcn oarlac._[135]\n\n II\n\n Dis king he has a huntin gaen,\n He\u2019s left his Lady Isabel alane.\n\n III\n\n \u2018Oh I wis ye\u2019d never gaen away,\n For at your hame is d\u00f6l an wae.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018For da king o Ferrie we his daert,\n Has pierced your lady to da hert.\u2019\n\n * * * * *\n\n V\n\n And aifter dem da king has gaen,\n But when he cam it was a grey stane.\n\n VI\n\n Dan he took oot his pipes ta play,\n Bit sair his hert wi d\u00f6l an wae.\n\n VII\n\n And first he played da notes o noy[136],\n An dan he played da notes o joy.\n\n VIII\n\n An dan he played da g\u00f6d gabber reel[137],\n Dat meicht ha made a sick hert hale.\n\n * * * * *\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Noo come ye in inta wir[138] ha\u2019,\n An come ye in among wis[139] a\u2019.\u2019\n\n X\n\n Now he\u2019s gaen in inta der ha\u2019,\n An he\u2019s gaen in among dem a\u2019.\n\n XI\n\n Dan he took out his pipes to play,\n Bit sair his hert wi d\u00f6l an wae.\n\n XII\n\n An first he played da notes o noy,\n An dan he played da notes o joy.\n\n XIII\n\n An dan he played da g\u00f6d gabber reel,\n Dat meicht ha made a sick hert hale.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018Noo tell to us what ye will hae:\n What sall we gie you for your play?\u2019--\n\n XV\n\n \u2018What I will hae I will you tell,\n An dat\u2019s me Lady Isabel.\u2019--\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018Yees tak your lady, an yees gaeng hame,\n An yees be king ower a\u2019 your ain.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n He\u2019s taen his lady, an he\u2019s gaen hame,\n An noo he\u2019s king ower a\u2019 his ain.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[133] aste = east.\n\n[134] _Scowan_ &c. = Early green\u2019s the wood.\n\n[135] _giorten_ &c. = Where the hart goes yearly.\n\n[136] noy = grief.\n\n[137] g\u00f6d gabber reel = the rollicking dance-tune.\n\n[138] wir = our.\n\n[139] wis = us.\n\n\n\n\n_16. King Henry_\n\n\n I\n\n Let never a man a wooing wend\n That lacketh thingis three;\n A routh[140] o\u2019 gold, an open heart\n And fu\u2019 o\u2019 courtesye.\n\n II\n\n As this I speak of King Henry,\n For he lay burd-alone[141];\n An\u2019 he\u2019s doen him to a jelly[142] hunt\u2019s ha\u2019\n Was seven mile frae a town.\n\n III\n\n He\u2019s chased the deer down him before,\n An\u2019 the roe down by the den,\n Till the fattest buck in a\u2019 the flock\n King Henry he has slain.\n\n IV\n\n O he has doen him to his ha\u2019\n To make him bierly[143] cheer;\n An\u2019 in it came a griesly ghost\n Steed stappin\u2019 i\u2019 the fleer[144].\n\n V\n\n Her head hat[145] the roof-tree o\u2019 the house,\n Her middle ye weel mot[146] span;\n He\u2019s thrown to her his gay mantle,\n Says, \u2018Lady, hap[147] your lingcan[148].\u2019\n\n VI\n\n Her teeth were a\u2019 like teather stakes[149],\n Her nose like club or mell[150];\n An\u2019 I ken naething she \u2019pear\u2019d to be\n But the fiend that wons[151] in hell.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Some meat, some meat, ye King Henry,\n Some meat ye gie to me!\u2019--\n \u2018An\u2019 what meat\u2019s in this house, ladye,\n That ye\u2019re not welcome tae?\u2019--\n \u2018O ye\u2019se gae[152] kill your berry-brown steed,\n And serve him up to me.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n O whan he slew his berry-brown steed,\n Wow but his heart was sair!\n She ate him a\u2019 up, skin an\u2019 bane,\n Left naething but hide an\u2019 hair.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Mair meat, mair meat, ye King Henry,\n Mair meat ye gie to me!\u2019--\n \u2018An\u2019 what meat\u2019s in this house, ladye,\n That ye\u2019re not welcome tae?\u2019--\n \u2018O do ye slay your good grey-hounds\n An\u2019 bring them a\u2019 to me.\u2019\n\n X\n\n O whan he slew his good grey-hounds,\n Wow but his heart was sair!\n She ate them a\u2019 up, skin an\u2019 bane,\n Left naething but hide an\u2019 hair.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Mair meat, mair meat, ye King Henry,\n Mair meat ye gie to me!\u2019--\n \u2018An\u2019 what meat\u2019s in this house, ladye,\n That ye\u2019re not welcome tae?\u2019--\n \u2018O do ye kill your gay goss-hawks\n An\u2019 bring them a\u2019 to me.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n O whan he fell\u2019d his gay goss-hawks,\n Wow but his heart was sair!\n She\u2019s ate them a\u2019 up, skin an\u2019 bane,\n Left naethin\u2019 but feathers bare.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018Some drink, some drink, now, King Henry,\n Some drink ye bring to me!\u2019--\n \u2018O what drink\u2019s in this house, ladye,\n That ye\u2019re not welcome tae?\u2019--\n \u2018O ye sew up your horse\u2019s hide,\n An\u2019 bring in drink to me.\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n O he\u2019s sew\u2019d up the bluidy hide,\n A puncheon o\u2019 wine put in;\n She\u2019s drunk it a\u2019 up at a waught[153],\n Left na ae drap ahin\u2019[154].\n\n XV\n\n \u2018A bed, a bed, now King Henry,\n A bed ye\u2019se mak\u2019 to me!\u2019--\n \u2018An\u2019 what\u2019s the bed in this house, ladye,\n That ye\u2019re not welcome tae?\u2019--\n \u2018O ye maun pu\u2019 the heather green,\n An\u2019 mak\u2019 a bed to me.\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n Syne pu\u2019d he has the heather green,\n An\u2019 made to her a bed,\n An\u2019 up has he ta\u2019en his gay mantle,\n An\u2019 o\u2019er it he has spread.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018Tak\u2019 off your claiths now, King Henry,\n An\u2019 lie down by my side!\u2019--\n \u2018O God forbid,\u2019 says King Henry,\n \u2018That ever the like betide;\n That ever a fiend that wons in hell\n Shou\u2019d streak[155] down by my side!\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n But whan day was come, and night was gane,\n An\u2019 the sun shone thro\u2019 the ha\u2019,\n The fairest ladye that ever was seen\n [Cam\u2019 to his arm\u00e8s twa].\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018O weel is me!\u2019 says King Henry,\n \u2018How lang\u2019ll this last wi\u2019 me?\u2019\n Then out an\u2019 spake that fair ladye,\n \u2018Even till the day you dee.\n\n XX\n\n \u2018For I\u2019ve met wi\u2019 many a gentle knight\n That\u2019s gien me sic a fill;\n But never before wi\u2019 a courteous knight\n That ga\u2019e me a\u2019 my will.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[140] routh = plenty.\n\n[141] burd-alone = lone as a maid.\n\n[142] jelly = jolly, jovial.\n\n[143] bierly = stout, handsome.\n\n[144] fleer = floor.\n\n[145] hat = hit.\n\n[146] mot = might.\n\n[147] hap = cover.\n\n[148] lingcan _for_ lycam = body.\n\n[149] teather stakes = tether pegs.\n\n[150] mell = mallet.\n\n[151] wons = dwells.\n\n[152] ye\u2019se gae = you shall go.\n\n[153] waught = draught.\n\n[154] ahin\u2019 = behind.\n\n[155] streak = stretch.\n\n\n\n\n_17. The Boy and the Mantle_\n\n_A Ballad of King Arthur\u2019s Court._\n\n\n I\n\n In the third day of May\n To Carleile did come\n A kind curteous child\n That co\u2019ld[156] much of wisdome.\n\n II\n\n A kirtle and a mantle\n This child had uppon,\n With brauches and ringes\n Full richelye bedone[157].\n\n III\n\n He had a sute of silke\n About his middle drawne;\n Without he co\u2019ld of curtesye\n He thought it much shame.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018God speed thee, King Arthur,\n Sitting at thy meate;\n And the goodly Queene Guenever!\n I cannot her forget.\n\n V\n\n \u2018I tell you, lords in this hall,\n I hett[158] you all heed,\n Except you be the more surer\n Is for you to dread.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n He pluck\u2019d out of his potener[159],\n And longer wo\u2019ld not dwell,\n He pull\u2019d forth a pretty mantle\n Betweene two nut-shells.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Have thou here, King Arthur,\n Have thou here of mee:\n Give itt to thy comely queene\n Shapen as itt is alreadye.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Itt shall never become that wiffe\n That hath once done amisse.\u2019\n Then every knight in the king\u2019s court\n Began to care[160] for his.\n\n IX\n\n Forth came dame Guenever,\n To the mantle she her bed[161];\n The ladye shee was new fangle[162]\n But yett she was affrayd.\n\n X\n\n When shee had taken the mantle,\n She stoode as shee had beene madd;\n It was from the top to the toe\n As sheeres had it shread.\n\n XI\n\n One while was it gaule[163],\n Another while was itt greene,\n Another while was it wadded[164];\n Ill itt did her beseeme.\n\n XII\n\n Another while it was blacke,\n And bore the worst hue:\n \u2018By my troth,\u2019 quoth King Arthur,\n \u2018I thinke thou be not true.\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n Shee threw downe the mantle,\n That bright was of blee[165];\n Fast with a rudd red\n To her chamber can[166] she flee.\n\n XIV\n\n She cursed the weaver and the walker[167]\n That cloth that had wrought,\n And bade a vengeance on his crowne\n That hither hath itt brought.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018I had rather be in a wood,\n Under a green\u00e8 tree,\n Than in King Arthur\u2019s court\n Sham\u00e8d for to bee.\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n Kay call\u2019d forth his ladye\n And bade her come neere;\n Saies, \u2018Madam, and thou be guiltye\n I pray thee hold thee here.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n Forth came his ladye\n Shortlye and anon;\n Boldlye to the mantle\n Then is she gone.\n\n XVIII\n\n When she had tane the mantle,\n And her about it cast\n Then was she bare\n All unto the waist.\n\n XIX\n\n Then every knight\n That was in the King\u2019s court\n Talk\u2019d, laugh\u2019d and showted\n Full oft att that sport.\n\n XX\n\n She threw down the mantle\n That bright was of blee,\n Fast with a red rudd[168]\n To her chamber can she flee.\n\n XXI\n\n Forth came an old Knight\n Pattering ore a creede,\n And he proferr\u2019d to this little Boy\n Twenty markes to his meede;\n\n XXII\n\n And all the time of Christmasse\n Willingly to ffeede;\n For why[169] this mantle might\n Doe his wiffe some need.\n\n XXIII\n\n When shee had tane the mantle\n Of cloth that was made,\n Shee had no more left on her\n But a tassell and a threed:\n That every knight in the King\u2019s court\n Bade evill might shee speed.\n\n XXIV\n\n She threw downe the mantle,\n That bright was of blee,\n Fast with a red rudd\n To her chamber can she flee.\n\n XXV\n\n Craddocke call\u2019d forth his ladye\n And bade her come in;\n Saith, \u2018Winne this mantle, ladye,\n With a little dinne[170].\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018Winne this mantle, ladye,\n And it shal be thine\n If thou never did amisse\n Since thou wast mine.\u2019\n\n XXVII\n\n Forth came Craddocke\u2019s ladye\n Shortlye and anon,\n But boldlye to the mantle\n Then is shee gone.\n\n XXVIII\n\n When she had tane the mantle\n And cast it her about,\n Up at her great toe\n It began to crinkle and crowt[171]:\n Shee said, \u2018Bowe downe, mantle,\n And shame me not for nought.\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018Once I did amisse,\n I tell you certainlye,\n When Craddocke\u2019s mouth I kist\n Under a green\u00e8 tree;\n When I kist Craddocke\u2019s mouth\n Before he marryed mee.\u2019\n\n XXX\n\n When shee had her shreeven[172]\n And her sinnes shee had tolde,\n The mantle stood about her\n Right as she wo\u2019ld;\n\n XXXI\n\n Seemelye of coulour,\n Glittering like gold\n Then every knight in Arthur\u2019s court\n Did her behold.\n\n * * * * *\n\n XXXII\n\n The little Boy stoode\n Looking over a dore;\n [There as he look\u2019d\n He was ware of a wyld bore.]\n\n XXXIII\n\n He was ware of a wyld bore\n Wo\u2019ld have werryed[173] a man:\n He pull\u2019d forth a wood-kniffe\n Fast thither that he ran:\n He brought in the bore\u2019s head\n And quitted him like a man.\n\n XXXIV\n\n He brought in the bore\u2019s head,\n And was wonderous bold;\n He said there was never a cuckold\u2019s kniffe\n Carve itt that co\u2019ld.\n\n XXXV\n\n Some rubb\u2019d their knives\n Uppon a whetstone;\n Some threw them under the table,\n And said they had none.\n\n XXXVI\n\n King Arthur and the child\n Stood looking them upon;\n All their knives\u2019 edges\n Turn\u00e8d backe againe.\n\n XXXVII\n\n Craddocke had a litle kniffe\n Of iron and of steele;\n He birtled[174] the bore\u2019s head\n Wonderous weale,\n That every knight in the King\u2019s court\n Had a morssell.\n\n XXXVIII\n\n The litle Boy had a horne,\n Of red gold that ronge[175];\n He said, \u2018There was noe cuckolde\n Shall drinke of my horne,\n But he sho\u2019ld itt sheede[176]\n Either behind or beforne.\u2019\n\n XXXIX\n\n Some shedd it on their shoulder\n And some on their knee;\n He that co\u2019ld not hitt his mouth\n Put it in his e\u2019e;\n And he that was a cuckold\n Every man might him see.\n\n XL\n\n Craddocke wan the horne\n And the bore\u2019s head;\n His ladye wan the mantle\n Unto her meede;\n Everye such a lovely ladye\n God send her well to speede!\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[156] co\u2019ld = could, knew.\n\n[157] bedone = adorned.\n\n[158] hett = bid.\n\n[159] potener = pouch, purse.\n\n[160] care = bethink him.\n\n[161] bed = bid, offered.\n\n[162] new fangle = capricious.\n\n[163] gaule = gules, red.\n\n[164] wadded = of woad colour, blue.\n\n[165] blee = hue.\n\n[166] can = did.\n\n[167] walker = fuller.\n\n[168] rudd = complexion.\n\n[169] For why = because.\n\n[170] dinne = noise, i. e. ado.\n\n[171] crowt = pucker.\n\n[172] shreeven = shriven, confessed.\n\n[173] werryed = worried.\n\n[174] birtled = brittled, cut up.\n\n[175] ronge = rung, resounded.\n\n[176] sheede = shed, spill.\n\n\n\n\n_18. King Arthur and King Cornwall_\n\n_A Fragment_\n\n\nKing Arthur of Little Britain unwisely boasts the beauty of his famous\nRound Table.\n\n I\n\n Saies, \u2018Come here, cuzen Gawaine so gay,\n My sisters sonne be yee;\n Ffor you shall see one of the fairest round tables\n That ever you see with your eye.\u2019\n\n II\n\n Then bespake Lady Queen Guenever,\n And these were the words said shee:\n \u2018I know where a round table is, thou noble king,\n Is worth thy round table and other such three.\n\n III\n\n \u2018The trestle that stands under this round table,\u2019 she said,\n \u2018Lowe downe to the mould,\n It is worth thy round table, thou worthy king,\n Thy halls, and all thy gold.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018The place where this round table stands in,\n [Is fenc\u00e8d round amaine]\n It is worth thy castle, thy gold, thy fee,\n And all good Litle Britaine.\u2019\n\n V\n\n \u2018Where may that table be, lady?\u2019 quoth hee,\n \u2018Or where may all that goodly building be?\u2019\n \u2018You shall it seeke,\u2019 shee says, \u2018till you it find;\n You shall never gett more of me.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n Then bespake him noble King Arthur\n These were the words said hee:\n \u2018I\u2019le make mine avow to God,\n And alsoe to the Trinity,\n\n VII\n\n \u2018I\u2019le never sleepe one night there as I doe another\n \u2019Till that round table I see:\n Sir Marramiles and Sir Tristeram,\n Fellowes that ye shall bee.\n\n VIII\n\n [\u2018Sir Gawaine and Sir Bredbettle\n Be fellowes eke with me,]\n Weele be clad in palmers\u2019 weede,\n Five palmers we will bee;\n\n IX\n\n \u2018There is noe outlandish man will us abide,\n Nor will us come nye.\u2019\n Then they rived[177] east and they rived west,\n In many a strange countr\u1ef3.\n\n X\n\n Then they tranckled[178] a litle further,\n They saw a battle new sett:\n \u2018Now, by my faith,\u2019 saies noble King Arthur,\n [\u2018These armies be well met.\u2019]\n\nAfter travelling in many strange lands they arrive at the castle of\nKing Cornwall, not a great way from home.\n\n XI\n\n But when he cam to this [Cornwall castle]\n And to the palace gate,\n Soe ready was ther a proud port\u00e8r,\n And met him soone therat.\n\n XII\n\n Shooes of gold the porter had on,\n And all his other rayment was unto the same:\n \u2018Now, by my faith,\u2019 saies noble King Arthur,\n \u2018Yonder is a minion swaine.\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n Then bespake noble King Arthur,\n These were the words says hee:\n \u2018Come thou hither, thou proud port\u00e8r,\n I pray thee come hither to me.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018I have two poore rings, of my finger,\n The better of them I\u2019le give to thee;\n Tell who may be lord of this castle,\n Or who is lord in this cuntry?\u2019\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Cornewall King,\u2019 the porter sayes,\n \u2018There is none soe rich as hee;\n Neither in christendome, nor yet in heathendom,\n None hath soe much gold as he.\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n And then bespake him noble King Arthur,\n These were the words sayes hee:\n \u2018I have two poore rings of my finger,\n The better of them I\u2019le give thee,\n If thou wilt greete him well, Cornewall King,\n And greete him well from me.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018Pray him for one night\u2019s lodging and two meales\u2019 meate,\n For his love that dyed uppon a tree;\n Of one ghesting[179] and two meales\u2019 meate,\n For his love that dyed uppon tree.\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018Of one ghesting, of two meales\u2019 meate,\n For his love that was of virgin borne,\n And in the morning that we may scape away,\n Either without scath or scorne.\u2019\n\n XIX\n\n Then forth is gone this proud port\u00e8r,\n As fast as he co\u2019ld hye,\n And when he came befor Cornewall King,\n He kneel\u00e8d downe on his knee.\n\n XX\n\n Sayes, \u2018I have beene porter-man at thy gate\n This thirty winter and three,\n [But there is ffive knights before itt now,\n The like I never did see.\u2019]\n\nKing Cornwall questioning the strangers, they happen to speak of a\ncertain shrine of Our Lady, from which he gathers that they have been\nin Little Britain. This leads him to question them concerning King\nArthur.\n\n XXI\n\n * * * * *\n\n Our Lady was borne; then thought Cornewall King\n \u2018These palmers had beene in Brittaine.\u2019\n\n XXII\n\n Then bespake him Cornewall King,\n These were the words he said there:\n \u2018Did you ever know a comely king,\n His name was King Arth\u00f9r?\u2019\n\n XXIII\n\n And then bespake him noble King Arth\u00f9r,\n These were the words said hee:\n \u2018I doe not know that comly king,\n But once my selfe I did him see.\u2019\n Then bespake Cornewall King againe,\n These were the words said he:\n\n XXIV\n\n Sayes, \u2018Seven yeere I was clad and fed,\n In Litle Brittaine, in a bower;\n I had a daughter by King Arthur\u2019s wife,\n That now is called my flower;\n For King Arthur, that kindly cockward,\n Hath none such in his bower.\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018For I durst sweare, and save my othe,\n That same lady soe bright,\n That a man that were laid on his death bed\n Wo\u2019ld open his eyes on her to have sight.\u2019--\n \u2018Now, by my faith,\u2019 sayes noble King Arthur,\n \u2018And that\u2019s a full faire wight!\u2019\n\n XXVI\n\n And then bespake Cornewall [King] againe,\n And these were the words he said:\n \u2018Come hither, five or three of my knights,\n And feitch me downe my steed;\n King Arthur, that foule cockeward,\n Hath none such, if he had need.\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018For I can ryde him as far on a day\n As King Arthur can any of his on three;\n And is it not a pleasure for a king\n When he shall ryde forth on his journ\u00e8y?\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018For the eyes that beene in his head,\n They glister as doth the gleed[180].\u2019\n \u2018Now, by my faith,\u2019 says noble King Arthur,\n \u2018That is a well faire steed.\u2019\n\nAfter showing them other of his possessions, King Cornwall has the\nstrangers conducted to bed; but first takes the precaution to conceal\nthe Burlow Beanie, or Billy Blind--friendly household spirit--in\na rubbish-barrel by the bedside, to listen and overhear their\nconversation.\n\n XXX\n\n Then King Arthur to his bed was brought,\n A greiv\u00e8d man was hee;\n And soe were all his fellowes with him.\n From him they thought never to flee.\n\n XXXI\n\n Then take they did that lodly[181] groome,\n And under the rub-chadler[182] closed was hee,\n And he was set by King Arthur\u2019s bed-side,\n To heere theire talke and theire comunye;\n\n XXXII\n\n That he might come forth, and make proclamation,\n Long before it was day;\n It was more for King Cornewall\u2019s pleasure,\n Then it was for King Arthur\u2019s pay[183].\n\n XXXIII\n\n And when King Arthur in his bed was laid,\n These were the words said hee:\n \u2018I\u2019le make mine avow to God,\n And alsoe to the Trinity,\n That I\u2019le be the bane of Cornewall Kinge\n Litle Brittaine or ever I see!\u2019\n\n XXXIV\n\n \u2018It is an unadvised vow,\u2019 saies Gawaine the gay,\n \u2018As ever king hard make I;\n But wee that beene five christian men,\n Of the christen faith are wee,\n And we shall fight against anoynted king\n And all his armorie.\u2019\n\n XXXV\n\n And then bespake him noble Arthur,\n And these were the words said he:\n \u2018Why, if thou be afraid, Sir Gawaine the gay,\n Goe home, and drinke wine in thine owne country.\u2019\n\n XXXVI\n\n And then bespake Sir Gawaine the gay,\n And these were the words said hee:\n \u2018Nay, seeing you have made such a hearty vow,\n Heere another vow make will I.\n\n XXXVII\n\n \u2018I\u2019le make mine avow to God,\n And alsoe to the Trinity,\n That I will have yonder faire lady\n To Litle Brittaine with mee.\n\nWhile they lie talking, an unguarded movement of the sprite in the\nbarrel leads to his discovery. Then follows a great combat.\n\n XXXIX\n\n [O then bespake Sir Tristram,]\n These were the words sayd hee:\n \u2018Befor I wold wrestle with yonder feend,\n It is better to be drown\u2019d in the sea.\u2019\n\n XL\n\n And then bespake Sir Bredbeddle,\n And these were the words said he\n \u2018Why, I will wrestle with yon lodly feend,\n God, my governor thou wilt bee!\u2019\n\n XLI\n\n Then bespake him noble Arthur,\n And these were the words said he:\n \u2018What weapons wilt thou have, thou gentle knight?\n I pray thee tell to me.\u2019\n\n XLII\n\n He sayes, \u2018Collen brand[184] I\u2019le have in my hand,\n And a Millaine[185] knife fast by my knee,\n And a Danish axe fast in my hands,\n That a sure weapon I thinke will be.\u2019\n\n XLIII\n\n Then with his Collen brand that he had in his hand,\n The bunge of that rub-chandler he burst in three;\n With that start out a lodly feend,\n With seven heads, and one body.\n\n XLIV\n\n The fyer towards the element[186] flew,\n Out of his mouth, where was great plentie;\n The knight stoode in the middle and fought,\n That it was great joy to see.\n\n XLV\n\n Till his Collaine brand brake in his hand,\n And his Millaine knife burst on his knee,\n And then the Danish axe burst in his hand first,\n That a sure weapon he thought sho\u2019ld be.\n\n XLVI\n\n But now is the knight left without any weapons,\n And alacke! it was the more pittye;\n But a surer weapon then he had one,\n Had neuer lord in Christentye;\n And all was but one litle booke,\n He found it by the side of the sea.\n\n XLVII\n\n He found it at the sea-side,\n Wruck\u00e8d upp in a floode;\n Our Lord had written it with his hands,\n And sealed it with his bloode.\n\nWith this book of Evangiles Sir Bredbittle, otherwise the Green Knight,\novercomes the sprite, and having conjured him into a wall of stone,\nreturns with report to King Arthur.\n\n XLVIII\n\n [Saies] \u2018That thou doe not [stir a foot]\n But ly still in that wall of stone,\n Till I have beene with noble King Arthur,\n And told him what I have done.\u2019\n\n XLIX\n\n And when he came to the king\u2019s chamber,\n He co\u2019ld of his curtesie:\n Says, \u2018Sleepe you, wake you, noble King Arthur?\n And ever Jesus waken yee!\u2019\n\n L\n\n \u2018Nay, I am not sleeping, I am waking,\u2019\n These were the words said hee;\n \u2018Ffor thee I have car\u2019d; how hast thou fared?\n O gentle knight, let me see.\u2019\n\n LI\n\n The knight wrought the king his booke,\n Bad him behold, reede and see;\n And ever he found it on the back of the leafe\n As noble Arthur wo\u2019ld wish it to be.\n\n LII\n\n And then bespake him King Arthur,\n \u2018Alas! thow gentle knight, how may this be,\n That I might see him in the same licknesse\n That he stood unto thee?\u2019\n\n LIII\n\n And then bespake him the Greene Knight,\n These were the words said hee:\n \u2018If you\u2019le stand stifly in the battell stronge,\n For I have won all the victory.\u2019\n\n LIV\n\n Then bespake him the king againe,\n And these were the words said hee:\n \u2018If wee stand not stifly in this battell strong,\n Wee are worthy to be hang\u2019d on a tree.\u2019\n\n LV\n\n Then bespake him the Greene Knight,\n These were the words said he:\n Saies, \u2018I doe conjure thee, thou fowle feend,\n In the same licknesse thou stood unto me.\u2019\n\n LVI\n\n With that start out a lodly feend,\n With seven heads, and one bod\u1ef3;\n The fier towards the element flew\n Out of his mouth, where was great plentie.\n\nBut now with the aid of the book Sir Bredbittle has the fiend wholly at\ncommand. He is sent first to fetch the steed.\n\n LIX\n\n And then bespake him the Greene Knight,\n And these were the words said he:\n Saith, \u2018I conjure thee, thou fowle feend,\n That thou feitch downe the steed, that we see.\u2019\n\n LX\n\n And then forth is gone Burlow-beanie,\n As fast as he co\u2019ld hie,\n And feitch he did that fair\u00e8 steed,\n And came againe by and by.\n\n LXI\n\n Then bespake him Sir Marramiles,\n And these were the words said hee:\n \u2018Ryding of this steed, brother Bredbeddle,\n The mastery belongs to me.\u2019\n\n LXII\n\n Marramiles tooke the steed to his hand,\n To ryd him he was full bold;\n He co\u2019ld noe more make him goe\n Then a child of three yeere old.\n\n LXIII\n\n He laid uppon him with heele and hand,\n With yard that was soe fell;\n \u2018Helpe! brother Bredbeddle,\u2019 says Marramile,\n \u2018For I thinke he be the devill of hell.\n\n LXIV\n\n \u2018Helpe! brother Bredbeddle,\u2019 says Marramile,\n \u2018Helpe! for Christ\u2019s pittye;\n Ffor without thy help, brother Bredbeddle,\n He will never be rydden for me.\u2019\n\n LXV\n\n Then bespake him Sir Bredbeddle,\n These were the words said he:\n \u2018I conjure thee tell, thou Burlow-beanie,\n How this steed was riddin in his country.\u2019\n\n LXVI\n\n \u2018In Cornewall\u2019s window is a gold wand;\n Let him strike three strokes on that steed,\n And then he will spring forth of his hand\n As sparke doth out of gleede[187].\u2019\n\nThen Sir Tristram requires a horn. At Sir Bredbittle\u2019s command the\nsprite fetches it; but the horn will not sound until anointed with a\ncertain powder. This also the sprite is sent to fetch.\n\n LXX\n\n And then bespake Sir Bredebeddle,\n To the ffeend these words said hee:\n Says, \u2018I conjure thee, thou Burlow-beanie,\n The powder-box thou feitch me.\u2019\n\n LXXI\n\n Then forth is gone Burlow-beanie,\n As fast as he co\u2019ld hie,\n And feich he did the powder-box,\n And came againe by and by.\n\n LXXII\n\n Then Sir Tristeram tooke powder forth of that box,\n And blent it with warme sweet milke,\n And there put it unto that horne,\n And swill\u2019d it about in that ilke.\n\n LXXIII\n\n Then he tooke the horne into his hand,\n And a lowd blast he blew;\n He rent the horne up to the midst,\n All his ffellowes this they knew.\n\n LXXIV\n\n Then bespake him the Greene Knight,\n These were the words said he:\n Saies, \u2018I conjure thee, thou Burlow-beanie,\n That thou feitch me the sword, that I see.\u2019\n\n LXXV\n\n Then forth is gone Burlow-beanie,\n As fast as he co\u2019ld hie,\n And feitch he did that fair\u00e8 sword,\n And came againe by and by.\n\n LXXVI\n\n Then bespake him Sir Bredbeddle,\n To the king these words said he:\n \u2018Take this sword in thy hand, thou noble King Arthur,\n For thy vowes sake I\u2019le give it thee,\n And goe strike off King Cornewall\u2019s head,\n In bed where he doth lye.\u2019\n\n LXXVII\n\n Then forth is gone noble King Arthur,\n As fast as he co\u2019ld hye,\n And strucken he hath off King Cornewall\u2019s head,\n And came againe by and by.\n\nSo King Arthur fulfils his vow; and, if the rest of the Ballad had been\npreserved, no doubt it would have told us how his companions fulfilled\ntheirs.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[177] rived = arrived, travelled.\n\n[178] tranckled = travelled.\n\n[179] ghesting = guesting, lodging.\n\n[180] gleed = live coal.\n\n[181] lodly = loathly.\n\n[182] rub-chadler = rubbish-tub.\n\n[183] pay = satisfaction.\n\n[184] Collen brand = sword of Cologne steel.\n\n[185] Millaine = Milanese.\n\n[186] element = sky.\n\n[187] gleede = live coal.\n\n\n\n\n_19. The Marriage of Sir Gawain_\n\n[_A Fragment_]\n\n\n I\n\n Kinge Arthur lives in merry Carleile,\n And seemely is to see,\n And there he hath with him Queene Genever,\n That bride soe bright of blee[188].\n\n II\n\n And there he hath with him Queene Genever,\n That bride soe bright in bower,\n And all his barons about him stoode,\n That were both stiffe and stowre[189].\n\n III\n\n The king kept a royall Christmasse,\n Of mirth and great honor.\n\nSoon after Christmas the King chanced to ride by Tarn Wadling[190], in\nthe forest of Inglewood, when he was met by a fierce baron armed with a\nclub, who offered him choice between fighting and ransom. For ransom,\nthe King must return on New Year\u2019s Day--\n\n IV\n\n \u2018And bring me word what thing it is\n That a woman will most desire;\n This shalbe thy ransome, Arthur,\u2019 he sayes,\n \u2018For I\u2019le have noe other hier.\u2019\n\n V\n\n King Arthur then held up his hand,\n According thene as was the law;\n He tooke his leave of the baron there,\n And homward can he draw.\n\n VI\n\n And when he came to merry Carleile,\n To his chamber he is gone,\n And ther came to him his cozen Sir Gawaine,\n As he did make his mone.\n\n VII\n\n And there came to him his cozen Sir Gawaine,\n That was a curteous knight;\n \u2018Why sigh you soe sore, unckle Arthur,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018Or who hath done thee unright?\u2019--\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018O peace, O peace, thou gentle Gawaine,\n That faire may thee beffall!\n For if thou knew my sighing soe deepe,\n Thou wo\u2019ld not mervaile att all.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Ffor when I came to Tearne Wadling,\n A bold barron there I fand,\n With a great club upon his backe,\n Standing stiffe and strong.\n\n X\n\n \u2018And he asked me wether I wo\u2019ld fight\n Or from him I shold begone,\n Or else I must him a ransome pay,\n And soe depart him from.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018To fight with him I saw noe cause;\n Methought it was not meet;\n For he was stiffe and strong with-all,\n His strokes were nothing sweete.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Therefor this is my ransome, Gawaine,\n I ought to him to pay;\n I must come againe, as I am sworne,\n Upon the New Yeer\u2019s day;\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018And I must bring him word what thing it is\n [That a woman will most desire].\n\nArthur, having collected and written down many answers to the baron\u2019s\nriddle, was true to his promise, thus--\n\n XIV\n\n Then king Arthur drest him for to ryde,\n In one soe rich array,\n Toward the fore-said Tearne Wadling,\n That he might keepe his day.\n\n XV\n\n And as he rode over a more,\n Hee see a lady where shee sate\n Betwixt an oke and a greene hollen[191];\n She was cladd in red scarlett.\n\n XVI\n\n Then thereas shold have stood her mouth,\n Then there was sett her eye;\n The other was in her forhead fast,\n The way that she might see.\n\n XVII\n\n Her nose was crooked and turn\u2019d outward,\n Her mouth stood foule a-wry;\n A worse form\u2019d lady than shee was,\n Never man saw with his eye.\n\n XVIII\n\n To halch upon[192] him, King Arthur,\n This lady was full faine,\n But King Arthur had forgott his lesson,\n What he sho\u2019ld say againe.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018What knight art thou,\u2019 the lady sayd,\n \u2018That will not speak to me?\n Of me be thou nothing dismay\u2019d,\n Tho I be ugly to see.\n\n XX\n\n \u2018For I have halched you curteouslye,\n And you will not me againe;\n Yett I may happen Sir Knight,\u2019 shee said,\n \u2018To ease thee of thy paine.\u2019\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018Give thou ease me, lady,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018Or helpe me any thing,\n Thou shalt have gentle Gawaine, my cozen,\n And marry him with a ring.\u2019\n\nThe hag thereupon gave him the right answer and he rode forward.\n\n XXIII\n\n And when he came to the Tearne Wadling,\n The baron there co\u2019ld he finde,\n With a great weapon on his backe,\n Standing stiffe and stronge.\n\n XXIV\n\n And then he tooke King Arthur\u2019s letters in his hands,\n And away he co\u2019ld them fling,\n And then he puld out a good browne sword,\n And cryd himselfe a king.\n\n XXV\n\n And he sayd, \u2018I have thee and thy land, Arthur,\n To doe as it pleaseth me,\n For this is not thy ransome sure,\n Therfore yeeld thee to me.\u2019\n\n XXVI\n\n And then bespoke him noble Arthur,\n And bad him hold his hand:\n \u2018And give me leave to speake my mind\n In defence of all my land.\u2019\n\n XXVII\n\n He said, \u2018As I came over a more,\n I see a lady where shee sate\n Betweene an oke and a green hollen;\n Shee was clad in red scarlett.\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018And she says a woman will have her will,\n And this is all her cheef desire:\n Doe me right, as thou art a baron of sckill[193],\n This is thy ransome and all thy hyer.\u2019\n\n XXIX\n\n He sayes, \u2018An early vengeance light on her!\n She walkes on yonder more;\n It was my sister that told thee this,\n [As shee heard it of me before.]\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018But heer I\u2019le make mine avow to God\n To doe her an evill turne;\n For an\u2019 ever I may thate fowle theefe get,\n In a fyer I will her burne.\u2019\n\nThe King, having returned home, told his knights that he had in the\nforest a bride for one of them, and a number rode out in his company to\nfind her.\n\n XXXI\n\n Sir Lancelott and Sir Steven bold,\n They rode with them that day,\n And the formost of the company\n There rode the steward Kay.\n\n XXXII\n\n Soe did Sir Banier and Sir Bore,\n Sir Garrett with them soe gay,\n Soe did Sir Tristeram that gentle knight,\n To the forrest fresh and gay.\n\n XXXIII\n\n And when he came to the greene forrest,\n Underneath a greene holly tree,\n Their sate that lady in red scarlet\n That unseemly was to see.\n\n XXXIV\n\n Sir Kay beheld this lady\u2019s face,\n And looked uppon her swire[194];\n \u2018Whosoever kisses this lady,\u2019 he sayes,\n \u2018Of his kisse he stands in feare.\u2019\n\n XXXV\n\n Sir Kay beheld the lady againe,\n And looked upon her snout;\n \u2018Whosoever kisses this lady,\u2019 he saies,\n \u2018Of his kisse he stands in doubt.\u2019\n\n XXXVI\n\n \u2018Peace, cozen Kay,\u2019 then said Sir Gawaine,\n \u2018Amend thee of thy life;\n For there is a knight amongst us all\n That must marry her to his wife.\u2019\n\n XXXVII\n\n \u2018What! wedd her to wiffe!\u2019 then said Sir Kay,\n \u2018In the divell\u2019s name anon!\n Gett me a wiffe where-ere I may,\n For I had rather be slaine!\u2019\n\n XXXVIII\n\n Then some tooke up their hawkes in hast.\n And some tooke up their hounds,\n And some sware they wo\u2019ld not marry her\n For citty nor for towne.\n\n XXXIX\n\n And then be-spake him noble King Arthur,\n And sware there by this day,\n For a litle foule sight and misliking\n [They should not say her Nay].\n\nAt length Sir Gawain, for Arthur\u2019s sake, consented. The ugly bride was\ntaken home and bedded, when to Gawain\u2019s delight in his arms she turned\nto a beautiful woman. She then offered him a choice.--\n\n XL\n\n Then shee said, \u2018Choose thee, gentle Gawaine,\n Truth as I doe say,\n Wether thou wilt have me in this liknesse\n In the night or else in the day.\u2019\n\n XLI\n\n And then bespake him gentle Gawaine,\n Was one soe mild of moode,\n Sayes, \u2018Well I know what I wo\u2019ld say,\n God grant it may be good!\n\n XLII\n\n \u2018To have thee fowle in the night\n When I with thee sho\u2019ld play--\n Yet I had rather, if I might,\n Have thee fowle in the day.\u2019\n\n XLIII\n\n \u2018What! when lords goe with ther feires[195],\u2019 shee said,\n \u2018Both to the ale and wine,\n Alas! then I must hyde my selfe,\n I must not goe withinne.\u2019\n\n XLIV\n\n And then bespake him gentle Gawaine,\n Said, \u2018Lady, that\u2019s but skill;\n And because thou art my owne lady,\n Thou shall have all thy will.\u2019\n\n XLV\n\n Then she said, \u2018Blesed be thou, gentle Gawain,\n This day that I thee see!\n For as thou seest me att this time,\n From hencforth I wilbe.\n\n XLVI\n\n \u2018My father was an old knight,\n And yett it chanc\u00e8d soe\n That he marryed a younge lady\n That brought me to this woe.\n\n XLVII\n\n \u2018Shee witched me, being a faire young lady,\n To the greene forrest to dwell,\n And there I must walke in woman\u2019s liknesse,\n Most like a feend of hell.\n\n XLVIII\n\n \u2018She witched my brother to a carlish [boore]\n\nBeing thus given what a woman most desires (that is, her will) she is\nreleased from the spell and becomes beautiful at all times: and Sir\nGawain leads his lady in triumph among the knights, to present her to\nthe King and Queen.\n\n L\n\n \u2018Come kisse her, brother Kay,\u2019 then said Sir Gawaine,\n \u2018And amend th\u00e9 of thy liffe;\n I sweare this is the same lady\n That I marryed to my wiffe.\u2019\n\n LI\n\n Sir Kay kissed that lady bright,\n Standing upon his ffeete;\n He swore, as he was trew knight,\n The spice was never soe sweete.\n\n LII\n\n \u2018Well, cozen Gawaine,\u2019 sayes Sir Kay,\n \u2018Thy chance is fallen arright,\n For thou hast gotten one of the fairest maids\n I ever saw with my sight.\u2019--\n\n LIII\n\n \u2018It is my fortune,\u2019 said Sir Gawaine;\n \u2018For my unckle Arthurs sake\n I am glad as grasse wold be of raine,\n Great joy that I may take.\u2019\n\n LIV\n\n Sir Gawaine tooke the lady by the one arme,\n Sir Kay tooke her by the tother,\n They led her straight to King Arthur,\n As they were brother and brother.\n\n LV\n\n King Arthur welcomed them there all,\n And soe did Lady Genever his queene,\n With all the knights of the Round Table,\n Most seemly to be seene.\n\n LVI\n\n King Arthur beheld that lady faire\n That was soe faire and bright,\n He thanked Christ in Trinity\n For Sir Gawaine that gentle knight.\n\n LVII\n\n Soe did the knights, both more and lesse,\n Rejoyced all that day\n For the good chance that hapened was\n To Sir Gawaine and his lady gay.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[188] blee = hue, complexion.\n\n[189] stowre = strong or perhaps we should read \u2018stiff in stowre\u2019 =\nsturdy in fight.\n\n[190] Tarn Wadling = The place--near Hesketh in Cumberland, on the road\nfrom Carlisle to Penrith--keeps its name to this day. But the tarn has\nbeen drained and its site is now a pasture for sheep.\n\n[191] hollen = holly-tree.\n\n[192] halch upon = salute.\n\n[193] sckill = wit, judgement.\n\n[194] swire = neck.\n\n[195] feires = mates.\n\n\n\n\n_20. Bonnie Annie_\n\n\n I\n\n There was a rich lord, and he lived in Forfar,\n He had a fair lady and one only dochter.\n\n II\n\n O she was fair! O dear, she was bonnie!\n A ship\u2019s captain courted her to be his honey.\n\n III\n\n \u2018Ye\u2019ll steal your father\u2019s gowd, and your mother\u2019s money,\n And I\u2019ll make ye a lady in Ireland bonnie.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n She\u2019s stown her father\u2019s gowd, and her mother\u2019s money,\n But she was never a lady in Ireland bonnie.\n\n V\n\n They hadna sail\u2019d far till the young thing cried \u2018Woman!\u2019\n \u2018What can a woman do, love, I will do for ye.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Lay about, steer about, lay our ship cannie[196],\n Do all ye can to save my dear Annie.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n \u2018There\u2019s fey[197] folk in our ship, she winna sail for me,\n There\u2019s fey folk in our ship, she winna sail [ony].\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n They\u2019ve castin\u2019 black bullets twice six and forty,\n And ae the black bullet fell on bonnie Annie.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Ye\u2019ll tak me in your arms twa, lo, lift me cannie,\n Throw me out owre-board, your ain dear Annie.\u2019\n\n X\n\n He has ta\u2019en her in his arms twa, lo, lifted her cannie,\n He has laid her on a bed of down, his ain dear Annie.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018What can a woman do, love, I\u2019ll do for ye:\u2019\n \u2018Muckle can a woman do, ye canna do for me.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Lay about, steer about, lay our ship cannie,\n Do all ye can to save my dear Annie.\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018I\u2019ve laid about, steer\u2019d about, laid about cannie,\n Our ship\u2019s on a sand-bank, she winna sail [ony]--\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018Ye\u2019ll take her in your arms twa, lo, lift her cannie,\n And throw her out owre-board, your ain dear Annie.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n He has ta\u2019en her in his arms twa, lo, lifted her cannie,\n He has thrown her out owre-board, his ain dear Annie.\n\n XVI\n\n [The corse it did float, the ship it did follow]\n Until that they came to the high banks o\u2019 Yarrow[198].\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018O I\u2019d bury my love on the high banks o\u2019 Yarrow,\n But the wood it is dear, and the planks they are narrow.\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n He made his love a coffin o\u2019 the gowd sae yellow,\n And buried his bonnie love doun in a sea valley.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[196] cannie = gently.\n\n[197] fey = destined to die.\n\n[198] Yarrow =? Jarrow.\n\n\n\n\n_21. Brown Robyn\u2019s Confession_\n\n\n I\n\n It fell upon a Wadensday\n Brown Robyn\u2019s men went to sea;\n But they saw neither moon nor sun\n Nor starlight wi\u2019 their e\u2019e.\n\n II\n\n \u2018We\u2019ll cast kevels[199] us amang;\n See wha the man may be.\u2019--\n The kevel fell on Brown Robyn,\n The master-man was he.\n\n III\n\n \u2018It is nae wonder,\u2019 said Brown Robyn,\n \u2018Altho\u2019 I dinna thrive;\n [For at hame I murder\u2019d my ain father--\n I would he were on live.]\n\n IV\n\n \u2018But tie me to a plank o\u2019 wude,\n And throw me in the sea;\n And if I sink, ye may bid me sink,\n But if I swim, let be.\u2019\n\n V\n\n They\u2019ve tied him to a plank o\u2019 wude\n And thrown him in the sea;\n He didna sink, tho\u2019 they bade him sink,\n He swim\u2019d, and they bade let be.\n\n VI\n\n He hadna been into the sea\n An hour but barely three,\n Till by it came Our Blessed Ladie\n Her dear young son her wi\u2019.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Will ye gang to your men again,\n Or will ye gang wi\u2019 me?\n Will ye gang to the high heavens\n Wi\u2019 my dear son and me?\u2019--\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018I winna gang to my men again,\n For they would be fear\u2019d at me;\n But I would gang to the high heavens,\n Wi\u2019 thy dear son and thee.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n \u2018It\u2019s for nae honour ye did, Brown Robyn,\n It\u2019s for nae gude ye did to me;\n But a\u2019 is for your fair confession\n You\u2019ve made upon the sea.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[199] kevels = lots.\n\n\n\n\n_22. The Cruel Mother_\n\n\n I\n\n She lean\u2019d her back unto a thorn;\n _Fine flowers in the valley_\n And there she has her two babes born,\n _And the green leaves they grow rarely._\n\n II\n\n She\u2019s ta\u2019en the ribbon frae her hair,\n And bound their bodies fast and sair.\n\n III\n\n \u2018Smile na sae sweet, my bonny babes,\n An\u2019 ye smile sae sweet, ye\u2019ll smile me dead.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018And, O bonny babes, if ye suck sair,\n Ye\u2019ll never suck by my side mair.\u2019\n\n V\n\n She\u2019s ta\u2019en out her little penknife\n And twinn\u2019d[200] the sweet babes o\u2019 their life.\n\n VI\n\n She\u2019s howket a grave baith deep and wide,\n And there she\u2019s buried them side by side.\n\n VII\n\n She\u2019s buried them baith beneath the brier,\n And washed her hands wi\u2019 mony a tear.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018O ay, my God, as I look to thee,\n My babes be atween my God and me!\n\n IX\n\n \u2018And ay their smiles wad win me in,\n But I am borne down by deadly sin.\u2019\n\n X\n\n She\u2019s cover\u2019d them o\u2019er wi\u2019 a marble stane,\n Thinking she wad gang maiden hame.\n\n XI\n\n She lookit out owre her castle wa\u2019\n And saw twa naked boys play at the ba\u2019.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018O bonny boys, gin ye were mine\n I wad cleed[201] you in silk and sabelline[202].\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018O I would dress you in the silk,\n And wash you ay in morning milk.\u2019--\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018O mother dear, when we were thine,\n You didna prove to us sae kind.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018O cruel mother, we were thine\n And thou made us to wear the twine[203].\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018But now we\u2019re in the heavens hie,\n _Fine flowers in the valley_\n And ye have the pains o\u2019 hell to drie\u2019--\n _And the green leaves they grow rarely;_\n _Ten thousand times good night and be wi\u2019 thee!_\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[200] twinn\u2019d = robbed, deprived.\n\n[201] cleed = clothe.\n\n[202] sabelline = sable.\n\n[203] twine = twine-cloth, shroud.\n\n\n\n\n_23. Binnorie_\n\n\n I\n\n There were twa sisters sat in a bour;\n _Binnorie, O Binnorie!_\n There cam a knight to be their wooer,\n _By the bonnie milldams o\u2019 Binnorie._\n\n II\n\n He courted the eldest with glove and ring,\n But he lo\u2019ed the youngest abune a\u2019 thing.\n\n III\n\n The eldest she was vex\u00e8d sair,\n And sair env\u00eced her sister fair.\n\n IV\n\n Upon a morning fair and clear,\n She cried upon her sister dear:\n\n V\n\n \u2018O sister, sister, tak my hand,\n And we\u2019ll see our father\u2019s ships to land.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n She\u2019s ta\u2019en her by the lily hand,\n And led her down to the river-strand.\n\n VII\n\n The youngest stood upon a stane,\n The eldest cam and push\u2019d her in.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018O sister, sister, reach your hand!\n And ye sall be heir o\u2019 half my land:\n\n IX\n\n \u2018O sister, reach me but your glove!\n And sweet William sall be your love.\u2019--\n\n X\n\n \u2018Foul fa\u2019 the hand that I should take;\n It twin\u2019d[204] me o\u2019 my warldis make[205].\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Your cherry cheeks and your yellow hair\n Gar\u2019d me gang maiden evermair.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n Sometimes she sank, sometimes she swam,\n Until she cam to the miller\u2019s dam.\n\n XIII\n\n Out then cam the miller\u2019s son,\n And saw the fair maid soummin\u2019[206] in.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018O father, father, draw your dam!\n There\u2019s either a mermaid or a milk-white swan.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n The miller hasted and drew his dam,\n And there he found a drown\u2019d woman.\n\n XVI\n\n You couldna see her middle sma\u2019,\n Her gowden girdle was sae braw.\n\n XVII\n\n You couldna see her lily feet,\n Her gowden fringes were sae deep.\n\n XVIII\n\n You couldna see her yellow hair\n For the strings o\u2019 pearls was twisted there.\n\n XIX\n\n You couldna see her fingers sma\u2019,\n Wi\u2019 diamond rings they were cover\u2019d a\u2019.\n\n XX\n\n And by there cam a harper fine,\n That harpit to the king at dine.\n\n XXI\n\n And when he look\u2019d that lady on,\n He sigh\u2019d and made a heavy moan.\n\n XXII\n\n He\u2019s made a harp of her breast-bane,\n Whose sound wad melt a heart of stane.\n\n XXIII\n\n He\u2019s ta\u2019en three locks o\u2019 her yellow hair,\n And wi\u2019 them strung his harp sae rare.\n\n XXIV\n\n He went into her father\u2019s hall,\n And there was the court assembled all.\n\n XXV\n\n He laid his harp upon a stane,\n And straight it began to play by lane[207].\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018O yonder sits my father, the King,\n And yonder sits my mother, the Queen;\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018And yonder stands my brother Hugh,\n And by him my William, sweet and true.\u2019\n\n XXVIII\n\n But the last tune that the harp play\u2019d then--\n _Binnorie, O Binnorie!_\n Was, \u2018Woe to my sister, false Hel\u00e8n!\u2019\n _By the bonnie milldams o\u2019 Binnorie_.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[204] twin\u2019d = robbed, deprived.\n\n[205] my warldis make = my one mate in the world.\n\n[206] soummin\u2019 = swimming.\n\n[207] by lane = alone, of itself.\n\n\n\n\n_24. The Broomfield Hill_\n\n\n I\n\n There was a knight and a lady bright\n Set trysts[208] amang the broom,\n The ane to come at morning ear[209],\n The other at afternoon.\n\n II\n\n \u2018I\u2019ll wager, I\u2019ll wager, I\u2019ll wager wi\u2019 you\n Five hundred merks and ten\n That a maid shanna gae to the bonny broom\n And a maiden return again.\u2019--\n\n III\n\n \u2018I\u2019ll wager, I\u2019ll wager, I\u2019ll wager wi\u2019 you\n Five hundred merks and ten\n That a maid shall gae to the bonny green broom\n And a maiden return again.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n The may she sat at her mother\u2019s bower door\n And aye she made her mane:\n \u2018O whether shou\u2019d I gang to the Broomfield Hill,\n Or should I stay at hame?\n\n V\n\n \u2018For if I do gang to the Broomfield Hill,\n A maid I\u2019ll not return;\n But if I stay frae the Broomfield Hill,\n My love will ca\u2019 me man-sworn.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n Up then spake an auld witch-wife,\n Sat in the bower abune:\n \u2018O ye may gang to the Broomfield Hill,\n And yet come maiden hame,\n\n VII\n\n \u2018For when ye gang to the Broomfield Hill,\n Ye\u2019ll find your love asleep,\n Wi\u2019 a silver belt above his head,\n And a broom-cow[210] at his feet.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Tak\u2019 ye the bloom frae aff the broom,\n Strew\u2019t at his head an\u2019 feet,\n And aye the thicker that ye do strew,\n The sounder he will sleep.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Tak\u2019 ye the rings aff your fingers,\n Put them in his right hand,\n To let him know when he does wake,\n His love was at his command.\u2019\n\n X\n\n Lord John has ta\u2019en his milk-white steed\n And his hawk wi\u2019 his bells sae bright,\n And he\u2019s ridden swift to the Broomfield Hill,\n [Was never a baulder] knight.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Now rest, now rest, my milk-white steed,\n My lady will soon be here,\n And I\u2019ll lay my head by this rose sae red,\n And the bonny burn sae near.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n She\u2019s pu\u2019d the broom-flower on Hive Hill,\n And strew\u2019d on \u2019s white breast-bane,\n And that was to be wittering[211] true\n That maiden she had gane.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018O where were ye, my milk-white steed,\n That I hae coft[212] sae dear,\n That wadna watch and waken me\n When there was maiden here?\u2019--\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018I stamp\u00e8d wi\u2019 my foot, master,\n And gar\u2019d my bridle ring,\n But no kin\u2019 thing wald waken ye\n Till she was past and gane.\u2019--\n\n XV\n\n \u2018And wae betide ye, my gay goss-hawk,\n That I hae coft sae dear,\n That wadna watch an\u2019 waken me\n When my true-love was here.\u2019--\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018I clapp\u00e8d wi\u2019 my wings, master,\n And aye my bells I rang,\n And aye cried, _Waken, waken, master,\n Before the ladye gang_!\u2019--\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018But haste, but haste, my gude white steed,\n To come the maiden till,\n Or a\u2019 the birds of the gude greenwood\n O\u2019 your flesh shall have their fill!\u2019--\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018Ye needna burst your gude white steed\n Wi\u2019 racing o\u2019er the howm[213];\n Nae bird flies faster thro\u2019 the wood\n Than she fled thro\u2019 the broom.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[208] trysts = assignations.\n\n[209] ear = early.\n\n[210] broom-cow = branch of broom.\n\n[211] wittering = information, token.\n\n[212] coft = bought.\n\n[213] howm = holm, river-mead.\n\n\n\n\n_25. Earl Mar\u2019s Daughter_\n\n\n I\n\n It was intill a pleasant time,\n Upon a simmer\u2019s day,\n The noble Earl Mar\u2019s daughter\n Went forth to sport and play.\n\n II\n\n And while she play\u2019d and sported\n Below a green aik tree,\n There she saw a sprightly doo[214]\n Set on a tower sae hie.\n\n III\n\n \u2018O Coo-me-doo, my love sae true,\n If ye\u2019ll come doun to me,\n Ye\u2019se hae a cage o\u2019 gude red gowd\n Instead o\u2019 simple tree.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018I\u2019ll put gowd hingers[215] roun\u2019 your cage,\n And siller roun\u2019 your wa\u2019;\n I\u2019ll gar ye shine as fair a bird\n As ony o\u2019 them a\u2019.\u2019\n\n V\n\n But she had nae these words well spoke,\n Nor yet these words well said,\n Till Coo-me-doo flew frae the tower\n And lichted on her head.\n\n VI\n\n Then she has brought this pretty bird\n Hame to her bowers and ha\u2019,\n And made him shine as fair a bird\n As ony o\u2019 them a\u2019.\n\n VII\n\n When day was gone, and night was come,\n About the evening-tide,\n This lady spied a gallant youth\n Stand straight up by her side.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018From whence cam\u2019 ye, young man?\u2019 she said;\n \u2018That does surprise me sair;\n My door was bolted right secure,\n What way hae ye come here?\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018O haud your tongue, ye lady fair,\n Lat a\u2019 your folly be;\n Mind ye not o\u2019 your turtle-doo\n Ye wiled from aff the tree?\u2019--\n\n X\n\n \u2018What country come ye frae?\u2019 she said,\n \u2018An\u2019 what\u2019s your pedigree?\u2019--\n \u2018O it was but this verra day\n That I cam\u2019 ower the sea.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018My mither lives on foreign isles,\n A queen o\u2019 high degree;\n And by her spells I am a doo\n With you to live an\u2019 dee.\u2019--\n\n XII\n\n \u2018O Coo-me-doo, my love sae true,\n Nae mair frae me ye\u2019se gae.\u2019--\n \u2018That\u2019s never my intent, my love;\n As ye said, it shall be sae.\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n Then he has stay\u2019d in bower wi\u2019 her\n For six lang years and ane,\n Till six young sons to him she bare,\n And the seventh she\u2019s brought hame.\n\n XIV\n\n But aye, as ever a child was born,\n He carried them away,\n And brought them to his mither\u2019s care\n As fast as he could fly.\n\n XV\n\n When he had stay\u2019d in bower wi\u2019 her\n For seven lang years an\u2019 mair\n There cam\u2019 a lord o\u2019 high renown\n To court this lady fair.\n\n XVI\n\n But still his proffer she refused\n And a\u2019 his presents too;\n Says, \u2018I\u2019m content to live alane\n Wi\u2019 my bird Coo-me-doo.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n Her father swore a michty oath\n Amang the nobles all,\n \u2018The morn, or ere I eat or drink,\n This bird I will gar kill.\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n The bird was sitting in his cage\n And heard what they did say;\n Says, \u2018Wae is me, and you forlorn,\n If I do langer stay!\u2019\n\n XIX\n\n Then Coo-me-doo took flight and flew\n And afar beyond the sea,\n And lichted near his mither\u2019s castle\n On a tower o\u2019 gowd sae hie.\n\n XX\n\n His mither she was walking out\n To see what she could see,\n And there she saw her one young son\n Set on the tower sae hie.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018Get dancers here to dance,\u2019 she said,\n \u2018And minstrels for to play;\n For here\u2019s my young son Florentine\n Come hame wi\u2019 me to stay.\u2019--\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018Get nae dancers to dance, mither,\n Nor minstrels for to play;\n For the mither o\u2019 my seven sons,\n The morn\u2019s her wedding-day.\u2019--\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018O tell me, tell me, Florentine,\n Tell me, an tell me true;\n Tell me this day without a flaw\n What I will do for you?\u2019--\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018Instead of dancers to dance, mither,\n Or minstrels for to play,\n Turn four-and-twenty well-wight[216] men\n Like storks in feathers gray:\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018My seven sons in seven swans\n Aboon their heads to flee;\n And I mysel\u2019 a gay goshawk,\n A bird o\u2019 high degree.\u2019\n\n XXVI\n\n Then siching said the Queen hersel\u2019,\n \u2018That thing\u2019s too high for me!\u2019\n But she applied to an auld woman\n Wha had mair skill than she.\n\n XXVII\n\n Instead o\u2019 dancers to dance a dance,\n Or minstrels for to play,\n Four-and-twenty well-wight men\n Turn\u2019d birds o\u2019 feathers gray.\n\n XXVIII\n\n Her seven sons in seven swans,\n Aboon their heads to flee;\n And he himsel\u2019 a gay goshawk,\n A bird o\u2019 high degree.\n\n XXIX\n\n This flock o\u2019 birds took flight and flew\n Beyond the raging sea,\n And landed near the Earl Mar\u2019s castle,\n Took shelter in every tree.\n\n XXX\n\n They were a flock o\u2019 pretty birds\n Right comely to be seen;\n The people view\u2019d them wi\u2019 surprise\n As they danc\u00e8d on the green.\n\n XXXI\n\n These birds flew out frae every tree\n And lichted on the ha\u2019,\n And [frae the roof] with force did flee\n Amang the nobles a\u2019.\n\n XXXII\n\n The storks there seized [ilk wedding-guest]\n --They could not fight nor flee;\n The swans they bound the [bridegroom fast]\n Below a green aik tree.\n\n XXXIII\n\n They lichted next on the [bride-] maidens,\n Then on the bride\u2019s own head;\n And wi\u2019 the twinkling o\u2019 an e\u2019e\n The bride an\u2019 them were fled.\n\n XXXIV\n\n There\u2019s ancient men at weddings been\n For sixty years or more,\n But siccan a curious wedding-day\n They never saw before.\n\n XXXV\n\n For naething could the companie do,\n Nor naething could they say;\n But they saw a flock o\u2019 pretty birds\n That took their bride away.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[214] doo = dove.\n\n[215] hingers = hangings, curtains.\n\n[216] well-wight = strong, lusty.\n\n\n\n\n_26. Proud Lady Margaret_\n\n\n I\n\n Fair Margret was a proud ladye,\n The King\u2019s cousin was she;\n Fair Margret was a rich ladye,\n An\u2019 vain as vain cou\u2019d be.\n\n II\n\n Ae night she sat in her stately ha\u2019\n Kaimin\u2019 her yellow hair,\n When in there cam\u2019 a gentle Knight,\n An\u2019 a white scarf he did wear.\n\n III\n\n \u2018O what\u2019s your will wi\u2019 me, Sir Knight?\n O what\u2019s your will wi\u2019 me?\n You\u2019re the likest to my ae brither\n That ever I did see.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018You\u2019re the likest to my ae brither\n That ever I hae seen;\n But he\u2019s buried in Dunfermline kirk\n A month an\u2019 mair bygane.\u2019--\n\n V\n\n \u2018I\u2019m the likest to your ae brither\n That ever ye did see;\n But I canna get rest in my grave,\n A\u2019 for the pride o\u2019 thee.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Leave pride, Margret, leave pride, Margret,\n Leave pride an\u2019 vanity;\n Cou\u2019d ye see the sights that I hae seen\n Sair warn\u00e8d ye wou\u2019d be.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018For the wee worms are my bedfellows,\n An\u2019 cauld clay is my sheets,\n An\u2019 when the stormy winds do blow\n My body lies and sleeps.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018O ye come in at the kirk-door\n Wi\u2019 the red gowd on your crown;\n But when you come where I have been,\n You\u2019ll wear it laigher[217] down.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018O ye come in at the kirk door\n Wi\u2019 the gowd prins[218] i\u2019 your sleeve,\n But when you come where I have been\n Ye maun gie them a\u2019 their leave.\n\n X\n\n \u2018Leave pride, Margret, leave pride, Margret,\n Leave pride an\u2019 vanity;\n Ere ye see the sights that I hae seen,\n Sair alter\u2019d ye maun be.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n He got her in her stately ha\u2019,\n Kaimin\u2019 her yellow hair;\n He left her on her sick, sick bed\n Mournin\u2019 her sins sae sair.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[217] laigher = lower.\n\n[218] prins = pins.\n\n\n\n\n_27. Clerk Saunders_\n\n\n PART I\n\n I\n\n Clerk Saunders and may Margaret\n Walk\u2019d owre yon garden green;\n And deep and heavy was the love\n That fell thir twa between.\n\n II\n\n \u2018A bed, a bed,\u2019 Clerk Saunders said,\n \u2018A bed for you and me!\u2019\n \u2018Fye na, fye na,\u2019 said may Margaret,\n \u2018Till anes we married be!\u2019--\n\n III\n\n \u2018Then I\u2019ll take the sword frae my scabbard\n And slowly lift the pin;\n And you may swear, and save your aith,\n Ye ne\u2019er let Clerk Saunders in.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018Take you a napkin in your hand,\n And tie up baith your bonnie e\u2019en,\n And you may swear, and save your aith,\n Ye saw me na since late yestreen.\u2019\n\n V\n\n It was about the midnight hour,\n When they asleep were laid,\n When in and came her seven brothers,\n Wi\u2019 torches burning red:\n\n VI\n\n When in and came her seven brothers,\n Wi\u2019 torches burning bright:\n They said, \u2018We hae but one sister,\n And behold her lying with a knight!\u2019\n\n VII\n\n Then out and spake the first o\u2019 them,\n \u2018I bear the sword shall gar him die.\u2019\n And out and spake the second o\u2019 them,\n \u2018His father has nae mair but he.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n And out and spake the third o\u2019 them,\n \u2018I wot that they are lovers dear.\u2019\n And out and spake the fourth o\u2019 them,\n \u2018They hae been in love this mony a year.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n Then out and spake the fifth o\u2019 them,\n \u2018It were great sin true love to twain.\u2019\n And out and spake the sixth o\u2019 them,\n \u2018It were shame to slay a sleeping man.\u2019\n\n X\n\n Then up and gat the seventh o\u2019 them,\n And never a word spake he;\n But he has striped[219] his bright brown brand\n Out through Clerk Saunders\u2019 fair bodye.\n\n XI\n\n Clerk Saunders he started, and Margaret she turn\u2019d\n Into his arms as asleep she lay;\n And sad and silent was the night\n That was atween thir twae.\n\n XII\n\n And they lay still and sleepit sound\n Until the day began to daw\u2019;\n And kindly she to him did say,\n \u2018It is time, true love, you were awa\u2019.\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n But he lay still, and sleepit sound,\n Albeit the sun began to sheen;\n She look\u2019d atween her and the wa\u2019,\n And dull and drowsie were his e\u2019en.\n\n XIV\n\n Then in and came her father dear;\n Said, \u2018Let a\u2019 your mourning be;\n I\u2019ll carry the dead corse to the clay,\n And I\u2019ll come back and comfort thee.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Comfort weel your seven sons,\n For comforted I will never be:\n I ween \u2019twas neither knave nor loon\n Was in the bower last night wi\u2019 me.\u2019\n\n\n PART II\n\n I\n\n The clinking bell gaed through the town,\n To carry the dead corse to the clay;\n And Clerk Saunders stood at may Margaret\u2019s window,\n I wot, an hour before the day.\n\n II\n\n \u2018Are ye sleeping, Marg\u2019ret?\u2019 he says,\n \u2018Or are ye waking presentlie?\n Give me my faith and troth again,\n I wot, true love, I gied to thee.\u2019\n\n III\n\n \u2018Your faith and troth ye sall never get,\n Nor our true love sall never twin[220],\n Until ye come within my bower,\n And kiss me cheik and chin.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n \u2018My mouth it is full cold, Marg\u2019ret;\n It has the smell, now, of the ground;\n And if I kiss thy comely mouth,\n Thy days of life will not be lang.\n\n V\n\n \u2018O cocks are crowing on merry middle-earth,\n I wot the wild fowls are boding day;\n Give me my faith and troth again,\n And let me fare me on my way.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Thy faith and troth thou sallna get,\n And our true love sall never twin,\n Until ye tell what comes o\u2019 women,\n I wot, who die in strong traivelling?\u2019\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Their beds are made in the heavens high,\n Down at the foot of our good Lord\u2019s knee,\n Weel set about wi\u2019 gillyflowers;\n I wot, sweet company for to see.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018O cocks are crowing on merry middle-earth,\n I wot the wild fowls are boding day;\n The psalms of heaven will soon be sung,\n And I, ere now, will be miss\u2019d away.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n Then she has taken a crystal wand,\n And she has stroken her troth thereon;\n She has given it him out at the shot-window,\n Wi\u2019 mony a sad sigh and heavy groan.\n\n X\n\n \u2018I thank ye, Marg\u2019ret; I thank ye, Marg\u2019ret;\n And ay I thank ye heartilie;\n Gin ever the dead come for the quick,\n Be sure, Marg\u2019ret, I\u2019ll come for thee.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n It\u2019s hosen and shoon, and gown alone,\n She climb\u2019d the wall, and follow\u2019d him,\n Until she came to the green for\u00e8st,\n And there she lost the sight o\u2019 him.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Is there ony room at your head, Saunders?\n Is there ony room at your feet?\n Or ony room at your side, Saunders,\n Where fain, fain, I wad sleep?\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018There\u2019s nae room at my head, Marg\u2019ret,\n There\u2019s nae room at my feet;\n My bed it is fu\u2019 lowly now,\n Amang the hungry worms I sleep.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018Cauld mould is my covering now,\n But and my winding-sheet;\n The dew it falls nae sooner down\n Than my resting-place is weet.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018But plait a wand o\u2019 bonny birk,\n And lay it on my breast;\n And shed a tear upon my grave,\n And wish my saul gude rest.\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n Then up and crew the red, red cock,\n And up and crew the gray:\n \u2018\u2019Tis time, \u2019tis time, my dear Marg\u2019ret,\n That you were going away.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018And fair Marg\u2019ret, and rare Marg\u2019ret,\n And Marg\u2019ret o\u2019 veritie,\n Gin e\u2019er ye love another man,\n Ne\u2019er love him as ye did me.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[219] striped = thrust.\n\n[220] twin = break in two.\n\n\n\n\n_28. The Daemon Lover_\n\n\n I\n\n \u2018O where hae ye been, my long, long love,\n These seven long years and more?\u2019--\n \u2018O I\u2019m come to seek my former vows,\n That ye promised me before.\u2019--\n\n II\n\n \u2018Awa\u2019 wi\u2019 your former vows,\u2019 she says,\n \u2018For they will breed but strife;\n Awa\u2019 wi\u2019 your former vows,\u2019 she says,\n \u2018For I am become a wife.\n\n III\n\n \u2018I am married to a ship-carpenter,\n A ship-carpenter he\u2019s bound;\n I wadna he kenn\u2019d my mind this nicht\n For twice five hundred pound.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n He turn\u2019d him round and round about,\n And the tear blinded his e\u2019e:\n \u2018I wad never hae trodden on Irish ground\n If it hadna been for thee.\n\n V\n\n \u2018I might hae had a noble lady,\n Far, far beyond the sea;\n I might hae had a noble lady,\n Were it no for the love o\u2019 thee.\u2019--\n\n VI\n\n \u2018If ye might hae had a noble lady,\n Yoursel\u2019 ye had to blame;\n Ye might hae taken the noble lady,\n For ye kenn\u2019d that I was nane.\u2019--\n\n VII\n\n \u2018O fause are the vows o\u2019 womankind,\n But fair is their fause bodie:\n I wad never hae trodden on Irish ground,\n Were it no for the love o\u2019 thee.\u2019--\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018If I was to leave my husband dear,\n And my wee young son alsua,\n O what hae ye to tak\u2019 me to,\n If with you I should gae?\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018I hae seven ships upon the sea,\n The eighth brought me to land;\n With mariners and merchandise,\n And music on every hand.\n\n X\n\n \u2018The ship wherein my love sall sail\n Is glorious to behowd;\n The sails sall be o\u2019 the finest silk,\n And the mast o\u2019 beaten gowd.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n She has taken up her wee young son,\n Kiss\u2019d him baith cheek and chin;\n \u2018O fare ye weel, my wee young son,\n For I\u2019ll never see you again!\u2019\n\n XII\n\n She has put her foot on gude ship-board,\n And on ship-board she has gane,\n And the veil that hangit ower her face\n Was a\u2019 wi\u2019 gowd begane[221].\n\n XIII\n\n She hadna sail\u2019d a league, a league,\n A league but barely twa,\n Till she minded on her husband she left\n And her wee young son alsua.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018O haud your tongue o\u2019 weeping,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018Let a\u2019 your follies a-bee;\n I\u2019ll show where the white lilies grow\n On the banks o\u2019 Italie.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n She hadna sail\u2019d a league, a league,\n A league but barely three,\n Till grim, grim grew his countenance\n And gurly[222] grew the sea.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018What hills are yon, yon pleasant hills,\n The sun shines sweetly on?\u2019--\n \u2018O yon are the hills o\u2019 Heaven,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018Where you will never won.\u2019--\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018O whaten-a mountain is yon,\u2019 she said,\n \u2018Sae dreary wi\u2019 frost and snae[223]?\u2019--\n \u2018O yon is the mountain o\u2019 Hell,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018Where you and I will gae.\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018But haud your tongue, my dearest dear,\n Let a\u2019 your follies a-bee,\n I\u2019ll show where the white lilies grow,\n In the bottom o\u2019 the sea.\u2019\n\n XIX\n\n And aye as she turn\u2019d her round about,\n Aye taller he seem\u2019d to be;\n Until that the tops o\u2019 that gallant ship\n Nae taller were than he.\n\n XX\n\n He strack the top-mast wi\u2019 his hand,\n The fore-mast wi\u2019 his knee;\n And he brake that gallant ship in twain,\n And sank her in the sea.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[221] begane = overlaid.\n\n[222] gurly = rough, surly.\n\n[223] snae = snow.\n\n\n\n\n_29. Clerk Colven_\n\n\n I\n\n Clerk Colven, and his gay ladie,\n As they walk\u2019d in yon garden green,\n The belt about her middle jimp[224]\n It cost Clerk Colven crowns fifteen.\n\n II\n\n \u2018O hearken weel now, my good lord,\n O hearken weel to what I say;\n When ye gang to the wall[225] o\u2019 Stream\n O gang nae near the weel-faur\u2019d may[226].\u2019\n\n III\n\n \u2018O haud your tongue, my gay ladie,\n Now speak nae mair of that to me;\n For I nae saw a fair woman\n [That I cou\u2019d] like so well as thee.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n He\u2019s mounted on his berry-brown steed,\n And merry, merry rade he on,\n Till that he came to the wall o\u2019 Stream,\n And there he saw the mermaiden.\n\n V\n\n \u2018Ye wash, ye wash, ye bonny may,\n And ay\u2019s ye wash your sark o\u2019 silk.\u2019--\n \u2018It\u2019s a\u2019 for ye, you gentle knight,\n My skin is whiter than the milk.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n He\u2019s ta\u2019en her by the milk-white hand,\n He\u2019s ta\u2019en her by the sleeve sae green,\n And he\u2019s forgotten his gay ladie,\n And he\u2019s awa\u2019 wi\u2019 the mermaiden.\n\n VII\n\n --\u2018Ohone, alas!\u2019 says Clerk Colven,\n \u2018And aye so sair as akes my head!\u2019\n And merrily leugh[227] the mermaiden,\n \u2018O \u2019twill win on[228] till you be dead.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018But out ye tak\u2019 your little pen-knife,\n And frae my sark ye shear a gare[229];\n Row[230] that about your lovely head,\n And the pain ye\u2019ll never feel nae mair.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n Out he has ta\u2019en his little pen-knife,\n And frae her sark he\u2019s shorn a gare;\n She\u2019s ty\u2019d it round his whey-white face,\n But and ay his head it ak\u00e8d mair.\n\n X\n\n \u2018Ohone, alas!\u2019 says Clerk Colven,\n \u2018O sairer, sairer akes my head!\u2019--\n \u2018And sairer, sairer ever will,\n And aye be war\u2019[231] till ye be dead.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n Then out he drew his shining blade\n And thought wi\u2019 it to be her deid[232],\n But she\u2019s become a fish again,\n And merrily sprang into the fleed[233].\n\n XII\n\n He\u2019s mounted on his berry-brown steed,\n And dowie[234], dowie rade he hame,\n And heavily, heavily lighted down\n When to his ladie\u2019s bower he came.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018O mither, mither, mak\u2019 my bed,\n And, gentle ladie, lay me down;\n O brither, brither, unbend my bow,\n \u2019Twill never be bent by me again!\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n His mither she has made his bed,\n His gentle ladie laid him down,\n His brither he has unbent his bow,\n --\u2019Twas never bent by him again.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[224] jimp = slim, slender.\n\n[225] wall = well.\n\n[226] weel-faur\u2019d may = well-favoured maiden.\n\n[227] leugh = laughed.\n\n[228] win on = continue.\n\n[229] gare = gore, strip.\n\n[230] row = roll, wrap.\n\n[231] war\u2019 = worse.\n\n[232] deid = death.\n\n[233] fleed = flood.\n\n[234] dowie = dolefully.\n\n\n\n\n_30. Young Hunting_\n\n\n I\n\n \u2018O lady, rock never your young son young\n One hour longer for me;\n For I have a sweetheart in Gareloch Wells\n I love thrice better than thee.\n\n II\n\n \u2018The very sole o\u2019 that lady\u2019s foot,\n Than thy face is mair white.\u2019--\n \u2018But nevertheless now, Young Hunting,\n Ye\u2019ll bide in my bower this night?\u2019\n\n III\n\n She has birl\u2019d[235] in him Young Hunting\n The good ale and the wine,\n Till he was as fou drunken\n As any wild-wood swine.\n\n IV\n\n [She has kiss\u2019d him by] the candle-light\n And the charcoal burning red,\n And up she has ta\u2019en Young Hunting,\n And she\u2019s had him to her bed.\n\n V\n\n And she\u2019s minded her on a little pen-knife\n That hang\u2019d below her gare[236],\n And she has gi\u2019en Young Hunting\n A deep wound and a sair.\n\n VI\n\n Then up and spake the popinjay\n That flew abune her head:\n \u2018Lady, keep well your green cleiding[237]\n Frae good Young Hunting\u2019s bleid!\u2019--\n\n VII\n\n \u2018O better I\u2019ll keep my green cleiding\n Frae good Young Hunting\u2019s bleid\n Than thou canst keep thy clattering tongue\n That trattles in thy head.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018O lang, lang is the winter\u2019s night,\n And slowly daws[238] the day!\n There lies a dead man in my bower,\n And I wish he were away.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n She has call\u2019d upon her bower-maidens,\n She has call\u2019d them ane by ane:\n \u2018There lies a dead man in my bower,\n I wish that he were gane.\u2019\n\n X\n\n They have booted and spurr\u2019d Young Hunting\n As he was wont to ride--\n A hunting-horn about his neck,\n And a sharp sword by his side;\n And they\u2019ve had him to the wan water,\n Where a\u2019 men ca\u2019s it Clyde.\n\n XI\n\n In the deepest pot of Clyde-water\n It\u2019s there they flang him in,\n And put a turf on his breast-bane\n To hold Young Hunting down.\n\n XII\n\n Then up and spake the popinjay\n That sat upon the tree;\n \u2018Gae hame, gae hame, ye fause lady,\n And pay your maids their fee.\u2019--\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018Come down, come down, my pretty bird,\n That sits upon the tree;\n I have a cage o\u2019 beaten gold,\n I\u2019ll gie it unto thee.\u2019--\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018How shall I come down, how can I come down,\n How shall I come down to thee?\n The things ye said to Young Hunting,\n The same ye\u2019re saying to me.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n She hadna cross\u2019d a rigg[239] o\u2019 land,\n A rigg but barely ane,\n When she met wi\u2019 his auld father,\n Came riding all alane.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018Where has ye been, now, lady fair,\n Where has ye been sae late?\n We hae been seeking Young Hunting,\n But him we canna get.\u2019--\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018Young Hunting kens a\u2019 the fords o\u2019 Clyde,\n He\u2019ll ride them ane by ane;\n And though the night was ne\u2019er so mirk,\n Young Hunting will be hame.\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n O there came seeking Young Hunting\n Mony a lord and knight,\n And there came seeking Young Hunting\n Mony a lady bright.\n\n XIX\n\n And it fell ance upon a day\n The King was bound to ride,\n And he has miss\u2019d Young Hunting,\n Should hae ridden on his right side.\n\n XX\n\n And they have to his true love gane;\n But she sware by the thorn,\n \u2018O I have not seen Young Hunting\n Since yesterday at morn.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018It fears me sair in Clyde Water\n That he is drown\u2019d therein!\u2019\n O they have sent for the King\u2019s divers,\n To dive for Young Hunting.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018Gar dive, gar dive!\u2019 the King he cried,\n \u2018Gar dive for gold and fee!\n O wha will dive for Young Hunting\u2019s sake,\n Or wha will dive for me?\u2019\n\n XXIII\n\n They dived in at the tae water-bank,\n They dived in at the tither:\n \u2018We can dive no more for Young Hunting,\n Altho\u2019 he were our brither.\u2019\n\n XXIV\n\n It fell that in that lady\u2019s castle\n The King was boun to bed,\n And out it spake the popinjay\n That flew abune his head:\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018Leave off, leave off, your day diving,\n And dive upon the night;\n And where that sackless[240] Knight lies slain\n The candles will burn bright.\u2019\n\n XXVI\n\n They left their diving on the day,\n And dived upon the night;\n And over the place Young Hunting lay\n The candles shone fu\u2019 bright.\n\n XXVII\n\n The deepest pot in Clyde Water\n They got Young Hunting in,\n With a green turf tied across his breast\n To keep that good lord down.\n\n XXVIII\n\n Then up and spake the King himsel\u2019,\n When he saw the deadly wound:\n \u2018O wha has slain my right-hand man,\n That held my hawk and hound?\u2019\n\n XXIX\n\n Then up and spake the popinjay,\n Says, \u2018What needs a\u2019 this din?\n It was his light leman took his life,\n And hided him in the linn[241].\u2019\n\n XXX\n\n She sware her by the grass sae green,\n So did she by the corn,\n She hadna seen Young Hunting\n Since Monanday at morn.\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018Put not the wyte[242] on me,\u2019 she says,\n \u2018It was my May[243] Catheren.\u2019\n Then they have cut baith thorn and fern,\n To burn that maiden in.\n\n XXXII\n\n When they had ta\u2019en her May Catheren,\n In the bonfire set her in;\n It wouldna take upon her cheeks,\n Nor yet upon her chin,\n Nor yet upon her yellow hair,\n To heal the deadly sin.\n\n XXXIII\n\n Out they have ta\u2019en her May Catheren,\n And put the lady in:\n O it took upon her cheek, her cheek,\n Took fast upon her chin,\n Took fast upon her fair body--\n She burnt like hollins[244] green.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[235] birl\u2019d = poured.\n\n[236] gare = gore, in the skirt.\n\n[237] cleiding = clothing.\n\n[238] daws = dawns.\n\n[239] rigg = ridge.\n\n[240] sackless = innocent.\n\n[241] linn = stream, pool.\n\n[242] wyte = blame.\n\n[243] May = Maid.\n\n[244] hollins = holly.\n\n\n\n\n_31. The Great Silkie of Sule Skerrie_\n\n\n I\n\n An earthly nourrice[245] sits and sings,\n And aye she sings, \u2018Ba, lily wean!\n Little ken I my bairn\u2019s father,\n Far less the land that he staps in.\u2019\n\n II\n\n Then ane arose at her bed-fit,\n An\u2019 a grumly guest I\u2019m sure was he:\n \u2018Here am I, thy bairn\u2019s father,\n Although that I be not com\u00e8lie.\n\n III\n\n \u2018I am a man, upo\u2019 the lan\u2019,\n An\u2019 I am a silkie[246] in the sea;\n And when I\u2019m far and far frae lan\u2019,\n My dwelling is in Sule Skerrie.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n \u2018It was na weel,\u2019 quo\u2019 the maiden fair,\n \u2018It was na weel, indeed,\u2019 quo\u2019 she,\n \u2018That the Great Silkie of Sule Skerrie\n Suld hae come and aught[247] a bairn to me.\u2019\n\n V\n\n Now he has ta\u2019en a purse of goud,\n And he has pat it upo\u2019 her knee,\n Sayin\u2019, \u2018Gie to me my little young son,\n An\u2019 tak thee up thy nourrice-fee.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018An\u2019 it sall pass on a simmer\u2019s day,\n When the sin shines het on evera stane,\n That I will tak my little young son,\n An\u2019 teach him for to swim his lane[248].\n\n VII\n\n \u2018An\u2019 thu sall marry a proud gunner,\n An\u2019 a proud gunner I\u2019m sure he\u2019ll be,\n An\u2019 the very first schot that ere he schoots,\n He\u2019ll schoot baith my young son and me.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[245] nourrice = nurse.\n\n[246] silkie = seal.\n\n[247] aught = own.\n\n[248] his lane = alone, without assistance.\n\n\n\n\n_32. The Wife of Usher\u2019s Well_\n\n\n I\n\n There lived a wife at Usher\u2019s well,\n And a wealthy wife was she;\n She had three stout and stalwart sons,\n And sent them o\u2019er the sea.\n\n II\n\n They hadna been a week from her,\n A week but barely ane,\n When word came to the carline[249] wife\n That her three sons were gane.\n\n III\n\n They hadna been a week from her,\n A week but barely three,\n When word came to the carline wife\n That her sons she\u2019d never see.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018I wish the wind may never cease,\n Nor fashes[250] in the flood,\n Till my three sons come hame to me\n In earthly flesh and blood!\u2019\n\n V\n\n It fell about the Martinmas,\n When nights are lang and mirk,\n The carline wife\u2019s three sons came hame,\n And their hats were o\u2019 the birk.\n\n VI\n\n It neither grew in syke[251] nor ditch,\n Nor yet in ony sheugh[252];\n But at the gates o\u2019 Paradise\n That birk grew fair eneugh.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Blow up the fire, my maidens!\n Bring water from the well!\n For a\u2019 my house shall feast this night,\n Since my three sons are well.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n And she has made to them a bed,\n She\u2019s made it large and wide;\n And she\u2019s ta\u2019en her mantle her about,\n Sat down at the bedside.\n\n IX\n\n Up then crew the red, red cock,\n And up and crew the gray;\n The eldest to the youngest said,\n \u2018\u2019Tis time we were away.\u2019\n\n X\n\n The cock he hadna craw\u2019d but once,\n And clapp\u2019d his wings at a\u2019,\n When the youngest to the eldest said,\n \u2018Brother, we must awa\u2019.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018The cock doth craw, the day doth daw,\n The channerin\u2019[253] worm doth chide;\n Gin we be miss\u2019d out o\u2019 our place,\n A sair pain we maun bide.\u2019--\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Lie still, lie still but a little wee while,\n Lie still but if we may;\n Gin my mother should miss us when she wakes,\n She\u2019ll go mad ere it be day.\u2019--\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018Fare ye weel, my mother dear!\n Fareweel to barn and byre!\n And fare ye weel, the bonny lass\n That kindles my mother\u2019s fire!\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[249] carline = old woman.\n\n[250] fashes = troubles.\n\n[251] syke = marsh.\n\n[252] sheugh = trench.\n\n[253] channerin\u2019 = fretting.\n\n\n\n\n_33. A Lyke-Wake Dirge_\n\n\n I\n\n This ae nighte, this ae nighte,\n --_Every nighte and alle_,\n Fire and fleet[254] and candle-lighte,\n _And Christe receive thy saule_.\n\n II\n\n When thou from hence away art past,\n --_Every nighte and alle_,\n To Whinny-muir thou com\u2019st at last:\n _And Christe receive thy saule_.\n\n III\n\n If ever thou gavest hosen and shoon,\n --_Every nighte and alle_,\n Sit thee down and put them on:\n _And Christe receive thy saule._\n\n IV\n\n If hosen and shoon thou ne\u2019er gav\u2019st nane\n --_Every nighte and alle_,\n The whinnes sall prick thee to the bare bane;\n _And Christe receive thy saule._\n\n V\n\n From whinny-muir when thou may\u2019st pass,\n --_Every nighte and alle_,\n To Brig o\u2019 Dread thou com\u2019st at last;\n _And Christe receive thy saule._\n\n VI\n\n From Brig o\u2019 Dread when thou may\u2019st pass,\n --_Every nighte and alle_,\n To Purgatory fire thou com\u2019st at last;\n _And Christe receive thy saule._\n\n VII\n\n If ever thou gavest meat or drink,\n --_Every nighte and alle_,\n The fire sall never make thee shrink;\n _And Christe receive thy saule._\n\n VIII\n\n If meat or drink thou ne\u2019er gav\u2019st nane,\n --_Every nighte and alle_,\n The fire will burn thee to the bare bane;\n _And Christe receive thy saule._\n\n IX\n\n This ae nighte, this ae nighte,\n --_Every nighte and alle_,\n Fire and fleet and candle-lighte,\n _And Christe receive thy saule_.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[254] fleet = floor. _Other readings are_ \u2018sleet\u2019 _and_ \u2018salt\u2019.\n\n\n\n\n_34. The Unquiet Grave_\n\n\n I\n\n \u2018The wind doth blow to-day, my love,\n And a few small drops of rain;\n I never had but one true-love;\n In cold grave she was lain.\n\n II\n\n \u2018I\u2019ll do as much for my true-love\n As any young man may;\n I\u2019ll sit and mourn all at her grave\n For a twelvemonth and a day.\u2019\n\n III\n\n The twelvemonth and a day being up,\n The dead began to speak:\n \u2018Oh who sits weeping on my grave,\n And will not let me sleep?\u2019--\n\n IV\n\n \u2018\u2019Tis I, my love, sits on your grave,\n And will not let you sleep;\n For I crave one kiss of your clay-cold lips,\n And that is all I seek.\u2019--\n\n V\n\n \u2018You crave one kiss of my clay-cold lips;\n But my breath smells earthy strong;\n If you have one kiss of my clay-cold lips,\n Your time will not be long.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018\u2019Tis down in yonder garden green,\n Love, where we used to walk,\n The finest flower that ere was seen\n Is wither\u2019d to a stalk.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018The stalk is wither\u2019d dry, my love,\n So will our hearts decay;\n So make yourself content, my love,\n Till God calls you away.\u2019\n\n\n\n\nBOOK II\n\n\n\n\n_35. Hynd Horn_\n\n\n I\n\n Hynd Horn\u2019s bound, love, and Hynd Horn\u2019s free,\n _With a hey lillelu and a how lo lan;_\n Where was ye born, or in what countrie?\n _And the birk and the broom blows bonnie._\n\n II\n\n \u2018In good greenwood, there I was born,\n And all my forbears me beforn.\n\n III\n\n \u2018O seven long years I served the King,\n And as for wages I never gat nane;\n\n IV\n\n \u2018But ae sight o\u2019 his ae daughter.\n And that was thro\u2019 an auger-bore.\u2019\n\n V\n\n Seven long years he served the King,\n And it\u2019s a\u2019 for the sake of his daughter Jean.\n\n VI\n\n The King an angry man was he;\n He sent young Hynd Horn to the sea.\n\n VII\n\n He\u2019s gi\u2019en his luve a silver wand\n Wi\u2019 seven silver laverocks[255] sittin\u2019 thereon.\n\n VIII\n\n She\u2019s gi\u2019en to him a gay gold ring\n Wi\u2019 seven bright diamonds set therein.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018As lang\u2019s these diamonds keep their hue,\n Ye\u2019ll know I am a lover true:\n\n X\n\n \u2018But when the ring turns pale and wan,\n Ye may ken that I love anither man.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n He hoist up sails and awa\u2019 sail\u2019d he\n Till that he came to a foreign countrie.\n\n XII\n\n One day as he look\u2019d his ring upon,\n He saw the diamonds pale and wan.\n\n XIII\n\n He\u2019s left the seas and he\u2019s come to the land,\n And the first that he met was an auld beggar man.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018What news, what news? thou auld beggar man,\n For it\u2019s seven years sin I\u2019ve seen land.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n \u2018No news,\u2019 said the beggar, \u2018no news at a\u2019,\n But there is a wedding in the King\u2019s ha\u2019.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018But there is a wedding in the King\u2019s ha\u2019\n That has halden these forty days and twa.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018Cast off, cast off thy auld beggar weed[256],\n And I\u2019ll gi\u2019e thee my gude grey steed:\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018And lend to me your wig o\u2019 hair\n To cover mine, because it is fair.\u2019--\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018My begging weed is na for thee,\n Your riding steed is na for me.\u2019\n\n XX\n\n But part by right and part by wrang\n Hynd Horn has changed wi\u2019 the beggar man.\n\n XXI\n\n The auld beggar man was bound for to ride,\n But young Hynd Horn was bound for the bride.\n\n XXII\n\n When he came to the King\u2019s gate,\n He sought a drink for Hynd Horn\u2019s sake.\n\n XXIII\n\n The bride came trippin\u2019 down the stair,\n Wi\u2019 the scales o\u2019 red gowd in her hair;\n\n XXIV\n\n Wi\u2019 a cup o\u2019 the red wine in her hand,\n And that she gae to the auld beggar man.\n\n XXV\n\n Out o\u2019 the cup he drank the wine,\n And into the cup he dropt the ring.\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018O got ye this by sea or land?\n Or got ye it of a dead man\u2019s hand?\u2019--\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018I got it na by sea nor land,\n But I got it, madam, of your own hand.\u2019\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018O, I\u2019ll cast off my gowns o\u2019 brown,\n And beg with you frae town to town.\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018O, I\u2019ll cast off my gowns o\u2019 red,\n And I\u2019ll beg wi\u2019 you to win my bread.\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018O I\u2019ll take the scales o\u2019 gowd frae my hair,\n And I\u2019ll follow you for evermair.\u2019\n\n XXXI\n\n She has cast awa\u2019 the brown and the red,\n And she\u2019s follow\u2019d him to beg her bread.\n\n XXXII\n\n She has ta\u2019en the scales o\u2019 gowd frae her hair\n And she\u2019s follow\u2019d him for evermair.\n\n XXXIII\n\n But atween the kitchen and the ha\u2019\n He has let his cloutie[257] cloak down fa\u2019.\n\n XXXIV\n\n And the red gowd shin\u00e8d over him a\u2019,\n _With a hey lillelu, and a how lo lan_;\n And the bride frae the bridegroom was stown[258] awa\u2019,\n _And the birk and the broom blows bonnie_.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[255] laverocks = larks.\n\n[256] weed = clothes.\n\n[257] cloutie = full of clouts, patched.\n\n[258] stown = stolen.\n\n\n\n\n_36. Hynd Etin_\n\n\n I\n\n May Margaret sits in her bower door\n Sewing her silken seam;\n She heard a note in Elmond\u2019s wood,\n And wish\u2019d she there had been.\n\n II\n\n She loot[259] the seam fa\u2019 frae her side,\n The needle to her tae[260],\n And she is on to Elmond\u2019s wood\n As fast as she could gae.\n\n III\n\n She hadna pu\u2019d a nut, a nut,\n Nor broken a branch but ane,\n Till by there came the Hynd Etin,\n Says, \u2018Lady, lat alane.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018O why pu\u2019 ye the nut, the nut,\n Or why break ye the tree?\n For I am forester o\u2019 this wood:\n Ye should spier[261] leave at me.\u2019--\n\n V\n\n \u2018I\u2019ll ask leave at nae living man,\n Nor yet will I at thee;\n My father is king o\u2019er a\u2019 this realm,\n This wood belongs to me.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n The highest tree in Elmond\u2019s wood,\n He\u2019s pu\u2019d it by the reet[262],\n And he has built for her a bower\n Near by a hallow seat[263].\n\n VII\n\n He\u2019s kept her there in Elmond\u2019s wood\n For six lang years and ane,\n Till six pretty sons to him she bare,\n And the seventh she\u2019s brought hame.\n\n VIII\n\n It fell out ance upon a day\n He\u2019s to the hunting gane,\n And a\u2019 to carry his game for him\n He\u2019s tane his eldest son.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018A question I will ask, father,\n Gin ye wadna angry be.\u2019--\n \u2018Say on, say on, my bonny boy,\n Ye\u2019se nae be quarrell\u2019d by me.\u2019\n\n X\n\n \u2018I see my mither\u2019s cheeks aye weet,\n I never can see them dry;\n And I wonder what aileth my mither\n To mourn [sae constantly].\u2019--\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Your mither was a king\u2019s daught\u00e8r,\n Sprung frae a high degree;\n She might hae wed some worthy prince\n Had she na been stown[264] by me.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Your mither was a king\u2019s daught\u00e8r\n Of noble birth and fame,\n But now she\u2019s wife o\u2019 Hynd Etin,\n Wha ne\u2019er gat christendame.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018But we\u2019ll shoot the buntin\u2019 o\u2019 the bush,\n The linnet o\u2019 the tree,\n And ye\u2019se tak\u2019 them hame to your dear mither,\n See if she\u2019ll merrier be.\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n It fell upon anither day,\n He\u2019s to the hunting gane\n And left his seven [young] children\n To stay wi\u2019 their mither at hame.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018O I will tell to you, mither,\n Gin ye wadna angry be.\u2019--\n \u2018Speak on, speak on, my little wee boy,\n Ye\u2019se nae be quarrell\u2019d by me.\u2019--\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018As we came frae the hind-hunting,\n We heard fine music ring.\u2019--\n \u2018My blessings on you, my bonny boy,\n I wish I\u2019d been there my lane.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n They wistna weel where they were gaen,\n Wi\u2019 the stratlins[265] o\u2019 their feet;\n They wistna weel where they were gaen,\n Till at her father\u2019s yate[266].\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018I hae nae money in my pocket,\n But royal rings hae three;\n I\u2019ll gie them you, my little young son,\n And ye\u2019ll walk there for me.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018Ye\u2019ll gi\u2019e the first to the proud port\u00e8r\n And he will let you in;\n Ye\u2019ll gi\u2019e the next to the butler-boy\n And he will show you ben[267];\n\n XX\n\n \u2018Ye\u2019ll gi\u2019e the third to the minstrel\n That plays before the King;\n He\u2019ll play success to the bonny boy\n Came thro\u2019 the wood him lane.\u2019\n\n XXI\n\n He ga\u2019e the first to the proud port\u00e8r\n And he open\u2019d and let him in;\n He ga\u2019e the next to the butler-boy,\n And he has shown him ben.\n\n XXII\n\n He ga\u2019e the third to the minstrel\n That play\u2019d before the King,\n And he play\u2019d success to the bonny boy\n Came thro\u2019 the wood him lane.\n\n XXIII\n\n Now when he came before the King,\n Fell low upon his knee;\n The King he turn\u2019d him round about,\n And the saut tear blint[268] his e\u2019e.\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018Win up, win up, my bonny boy,\n Gang frae my companie;\n Ye look sae like my dear daught\u00e8r,\n My heart will burst in three.\u2019--\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018If I look like your dear daught\u00e8r,\n A wonder it is none;\n If I look like your dear daught\u00e8r,\n I am her eldest son.\u2019--\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018Will ye tell me, ye little wee boy,\n Where may my Margaret be?\u2019--\n \u2018She\u2019s just now standing at your yates,\n And my six brithers her wi\u2019.\u2019--\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018O where are a\u2019 my porter-boys\n That I pay meat and fee,\n To open my yates baith wide and braid,\n Let her come in to me?\u2019\n\n XXVIII\n\n When she cam\u2019 in before the King,\n Fell low down on her knee:\n \u2018Win up, win up, my daughter dear,\n This day ye\u2019se dine wi\u2019 me.\u2019--\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018Ae bit I canna eat, father,\n Nor ae drop can I drink,\n Until I see my mither dear,\n For lang for her I think.\u2019\n\n XXX\n\n When she cam\u2019 in before the queen,\n Fell low down on her knee;\n \u2018Win up, win up, my daughter dear,\n This day ye\u2019se dine wi\u2019 me.\u2019--\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018Ae bit I canna eat, mither,\n Nor ae drop can I drink,\n Until I see my sister dear,\n For lang for her I think.\u2019\n\n XXXII\n\n When that these twa sisters met,\n She hail\u2019d her courteouslie;\n \u2018Come ben, come ben, my sister dear,\n This day ye\u2019se dine wi\u2019 me.\u2019--\n\n XXXIII\n\n \u2018Ae bit I canna eat, sister,\n Nor ae drop can I drink,\n Until I see my dear husband,\n So lang for him I think.\u2019--\n\n XXXIV\n\n \u2018O where are a\u2019 my rangers bold\n That I pay meat and fee,\n To search the forest far an\u2019 wide,\n And bring Etin back to me?\u2019\n\n XXXV\n\n Out it speaks the little wee boy:\n \u2018Na, na, this mauna be;\n Without ye grant a free pardon,\n I hope ye\u2019ll nae him see.\u2019--\n\n XXXVI\n\n \u2018O here I grant a free pardon,\n Well seal\u2019d by my own han\u2019;\n Ye may mak\u2019 search for Young Etin\n As soon as ever ye can.\u2019\n\n XXXVII\n\n They search\u2019d the country wide and braid,\n The forests far and near,\n And they found him into Elmond\u2019s wood,\n Tearing his yellow hair.\n\n XXXVIII\n\n \u2018Win up, win up now, Hynd Etin,\n Win up an\u2019 boun[269] wi\u2019 me;\n We\u2019re messengers come frae the court;\n The King wants you to see.\u2019--\n\n XXXIX\n\n \u2018O lat them tak\u2019 frae me my head,\n Or hang me on a tree;\n For since I\u2019ve lost my dear lady,\n Life\u2019s no pleasure to me.\u2019--\n\n XL\n\n \u2018Your head will na be touch\u2019d, Etin,\n Nor you hang\u2019d on a tree;\n Your lady\u2019s in her father\u2019s court\n And a\u2019 he wants is thee.\u2019\n\n XLI\n\n When he cam\u2019 in before the King,\n Fell low down on his knee;\n \u2018Win up, win up now, Young Etin,\n This day ye\u2019se dine wi\u2019 me.\u2019\n\n XLII\n\n But as they were at dinner set\n The wee boy ask\u2019d a boon:\n \u2018I wish we were in a good kirk\n For to get christendoun.\n\n XLIII\n\n \u2018For we hae lived in gude green wood\n This seven years and ane;\n But a\u2019 this time since e\u2019er I mind\n Was never a kirk within.\u2019--\n\n XLIV\n\n \u2018Your asking\u2019s na sae great, my boy,\n But granted it sall be;\n This day to gude kirk ye sall gang\n And your mither sall gang you wi\u2019.\u2019\n\n XLV\n\n When unto the gude kirk she came,\n She at the door did stan\u2019;\n She was sae sair sunk down wi\u2019 shame,\n She couldna come farther ben.\n\n XLVI\n\n Then out and spak\u2019 the parish priest,\n And a sweet smile ga\u2019e he:\n \u2018Come ben, come ben, my lily-flower,\n Present your babes to me.\u2019\n\n XLVII\n\n Charles, Vincent, Sam and Dick,\n And likewise John and James;\n They call\u2019d the eldest Young Etin,\n Which was his father\u2019s name.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[259] loot = let.\n\n[260] tae = toe.\n\n[261] spier = ask.\n\n[262] reet = root.\n\n[263] hallow seat = holy man\u2019s or hermit\u2019s cave.\n\n[264] stown = stolen.\n\n[265] stratlins =? stragglings.\n\n[266] yate = gate.\n\n[267] ben = further in.\n\n[268] blint = blinded.\n\n[269] boun = go.\n\n\n\n\n_37. Erlinton_\n\n\n I\n\n Erlinton had a fair daughter;\n I wat he wear\u2019d her in[270] a great sin;\n For he has built a bigly bower,\n And a\u2019 to put that lady in.\n\n II\n\n An\u2019 he has warn\u2019d her sisters six,\n An\u2019 sae has he her brethren se\u2019en,\n Outher to watch her a\u2019 the night,\n Or else to seek her morn an\u2019 e\u2019en.\n\n III\n\n She hadna been i\u2019 that bigly bower,\n Na not a night but barely ane,\n Till there was Willie, her ain true love,\n Chapp\u2019d[271] at the door, cryin\u2019 \u2018Peace within!\u2019\n\n IV\n\n \u2018O whae is this at my bower door,\n That chaps sae late, nor kens the gin[272]?\u2019--\n \u2018O it is Willie, your ain true love,\n I pray you rise an\u2019 let me in.\u2019--\n\n V\n\n \u2018For a\u2019 sae weel as I like ye, Willie,\n For a\u2019 sae weel as I ken the gin,\n I wadna for ten thousand pounds, love,\n Na, no this night wad I let ye in.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018But in the green-wood is a wake[273],\n And at the wake there is a wane[274],\n An\u2019 there I\u2019ll come as sune the morn, love,\n Na, no a mile but barely ane.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018On my right hand I\u2019ll have a glo\u2019[275], love,\n And on my left hand I\u2019ll have nane;\n I\u2019ll have wi\u2019 me my sisters six, love,\n And we will wauk the wood our lane[276].\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n Then she\u2019s gane to her bed again,\n She has layen till the cock crew thrice,\n An\u2019 then she said to her sisters a\u2019,\n \u2018Maidens, \u2019tis time for us to rise.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n She pat on her back her silken gown,\n An\u2019 on her breast a siller pin,\n An\u2019 she\u2019s ta\u2019en her sisters by the hand,\n An\u2019 to the green-wood she is gane.\n\n X\n\n They hadna wauk\u2019d in the bonny green-wood,\n Na no an hour but barely ane,\n Till up start Willie, her ain true love,\n Wha frae her sisters has her ta\u2019en.\n\n XI\n\n An\u2019 he has kiss\u2019d her sisters six,\n An\u2019 he has sent them hame again,\n But he has keepit his ain true love,\n Sayin\u2019 \u2018We\u2019ll wauk the woods our lane.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n They hadna wauk\u2019d in the bonnie green-wood\n Na no an hour but barely ane,\n Till up start fifteen o\u2019 the bravest outlaws\n That ever bare either blood or bane.\n\n XIII\n\n Then up bespake the foremost knight,--\n An\u2019 O but he spake angril\u1ef3:\n Says, \u2018Yield to me thy ladye bright,\n This night shall wauk the woods wi\u2019 me.\u2019--\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018I like her weel, my ladye bright,\n And O my life but it lies me near!\n But before I lose my ladye bright\n I\u2019ll rather lose my life sae dear.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n But up an\u2019 spake the second knight--\n I wat he spake right boustruslie--\n Says, \u2018Baith your life an\u2019 your ladye bright\n This night shall wauk the woods wi\u2019 me.\u2019--\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018My ladye is my warldis meed[277]:\n My life I winna yield to nane;\n But if ye be men of your manheid,\n Ye\u2019ll only fight me ane by ane.--\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018O sit ye down, my dearest dear,\n Sit down an\u2019 hold my milk-white steed,\n An\u2019 see that ye dinna change your cheer\n Until ye see my body bleed.\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n He set his back unto an aik[278],\n He set his feet against a stane,\n He\u2019s feightin a\u2019 these fifteen outlaws,\n An\u2019 kill\u2019d them a\u2019 but barely ane.\n\n XIX\n\n An\u2019 he has gane to his ladye dear,\n I wat he kiss\u2019d her cheek an\u2019 chin--\n \u2018Thou art mine ain, I have bought thee dear,\n An\u2019 now we will wauk the woods our lane.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[270] wear\u2019d her in = led her into.\n\n[271] chapp\u2019d = knocked.\n\n[272] gin = trick, or sleight, of the door-latch.\n\n[273] wake (_obscure_).\n\n[274] wane = dwelling, arbor.\n\n[275] glo\u2019 = glove.\n\n[276] our lane = we alone.\n\n[277] warldis meed = world\u2019s reward, most precious thing in the world:\n_or perhaps corrupted from_ warldis make, mate.\n\n[278] aik = oak.\n\n\n\n\n_38. Earl Brand_\n\n\n I\n\n O did ye ever hear o\u2019 brave Earl Brand?\n _Ay lally, o lilly lally_\n He courted the King\u2019s daughter o\u2019 fair England\n _All i\u2019 the night sae early_.\n\n II\n\n She was scarcely fifteen years that tide[279]\n Till sae boldly she came to his bedside.\n\n III\n\n \u2018O Earl Bran\u2019, fain wad I see\n A pack of hounds let loose on the lea.\u2019--\n\n IV\n\n \u2018O lady, I have no steeds but one,\n But thou shall ride, and I will run.\u2019--\n\n V\n\n \u2018O Earl Bran\u2019, my father has two,\n And thou shall have the best of tho\u2019.\u2019--\n\n VI\n\n They have ridden o\u2019er moss and moor,\n And they have met neither rich nor poor,\n\n VII\n\n Until they met with old Carl Hood:\n --He\u2019s aye for ill and never for good.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Earl Bran\u2019, if ye love me,\n Seize this old carl, and gar him die.\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018O lady fair, it wad be sair\n To slay an old man that has grey hair.\n\n X\n\n \u2018O lady fair, I\u2019ll no do sae;\n I\u2019ll gie him a pound and let him gae.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n \u2018O where hae ye ridden this lee-lang[280] day?\n Or where hae ye stolen this lady away?\u2019--\n\n XII\n\n \u2018I have not ridden this lee-lang day,\n Nor yet have I stolen this lady away.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018She is my only, my sick sist\u00e8r,\n Which I have brought from Winchester.\u2019--\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018If she be sick and like to dead,\n Why wears she the ribbon sae red?\n\n XV\n\n \u2018If she be sick and like to die,\n Then why wears she the gold on high?\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n When came the carl to this lady\u2019s yett[281],\n Rudely, rudely he rapp\u2019d thereat.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018O where\u2019s the lady o\u2019 this ha\u2019?\u2019--\n \u2018She\u2019s out with her maids to play at the ba\u2019.\u2019--\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018Ha, ha, ha! ye are a\u2019 mista\u2019en;\n Gae count your maidens o\u2019er again.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018I met her far beyond the lea,\n With the young Earl Brand, his leman to be.\u2019\n\n XX\n\n Her father arm\u2019d of his men fifteen,\n And they\u2019re ridden after them all-by-dene[282].\n\n XXI\n\n O\u2019er her left shoulder the lady look\u2019d then:\n \u2018O Earl Bran\u2019, we both are ta\u2019en!\u2019--\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018If they come on me ane by ane,\n Ye may stand by and see them slain.\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018But if they come on me ane and all,\n Ye may stand by and see me fall.\u2019\n\n XXIV\n\n They have come on him ane by ane,\n And fourteen men he has them slain.\n\n XXV\n\n But the fifteenth man behind stole round,\n And he\u2019s gi\u2019en him a deadly wound.\n\n XXVI\n\n But for a\u2019 sae wounded as Earl Brand was\n He has set his lady on her horse.\n\n XXVII\n\n They rode till they came to the water o\u2019 Doune.\n And there he lighted to wash his wound.\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018O Earl Bran\u2019, I see your heart\u2019s bloud!\u2019--\n \u2018It\u2019s na but the glent[283] o\u2019 my scarlet hood.\u2019\n\n XXIX\n\n They rode till they came to his mother\u2019s yett,\n So faint and feebly he rapp\u2019d thereat.\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018O my son\u2019s slain, he\u2019s falling to swoun,\n And a\u2019 for the sake of an English loun!\u2019--\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018So say not sae, my dearest mother,\n But marry her to my youngest brother.\n\n XXXII\n\n \u2018This has not been the death o\u2019 ane,\n But it\u2019s been the death o\u2019 fair seventeen.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[279] tide = time, season.\n\n[280] lee-lang = live-long.\n\n[281] yett = gate.\n\n[282] all-by-dene = all together.\n\n[283] glent = gleam.\n\n\n\n\n_39. The Douglas Tragedy_\n\n\n I\n\n \u2018Rise up, rise up, now Lord Douglas,\u2019 she says,\n \u2018And put on your armour so bright;\n Let it never be said that a daughter of thine\n Was married to a lord under night.\n\n II\n\n \u2018Rise up, rise up, my seven bold sons,\n And put on your armour so bright,\n And take better care of your youngest sister,\n For your eldest\u2019s awa the last night.\u2019\n\n III\n\n He\u2019s mounted her on a milk-white steed,\n And himself on a dapple grey,\n With a bugelet horn hung down his side;\n And lightly they rode away.\n\n IV\n\n Lord William look\u2019d o\u2019er his left shoulder,\n To see what he could see,\n And there he spy\u2019d her seven brethren bold\n Come riding over the lea.\n\n V\n\n \u2018Light down, light down, Lady Margret,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018And hold my steed in your hand,\n Until that against your seven brethren bold,\n And your father, I mak\u2019 a stand.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n O, there she stood, and bitter she stood,\n And never did shed one tear,\n Until that she saw her seven brethren fa\u2019,\n And her father, who lov\u2019d her so dear.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018O hold your hand, Lord William!\u2019 she said,\n \u2018For your strokes they are wondrous sair;\n True lovers I can get many an ane,\n But a father I can never get mair.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n O she\u2019s ta\u2019en out her handkerchief,\n It was o\u2019 the holland sae fine,\n And aye she dighted[284] her father\u2019s wounds,\n That were redder than the wine.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018O chuse, O chuse, Lady Margret,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018O whether will ye gang or bide?\u2019\n \u2018I\u2019ll gang, I\u2019ll gang, Lord William,\u2019 she said,\n \u2018For ye\u2019ve left me no other guide.\u2019\n\n X\n\n He\u2019s lifted her on a milk-white steed,\n And himself on a dapple grey,\n With a bugelet horn hung down by his side;\n And slowly they baith rade away.\n\n XI\n\n O they rade on, and on they rade,\n And a\u2019 by the light of the moon,\n Until they came to yon wan water,\n And there they lighted doun.\n\n XII\n\n They lighted doun to tak\u2019 a drink\n Of the spring that ran sae clear,\n And doun the stream ran his gude heart\u2019s blood,\n And sair she gan to fear.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018Hold up, hold up, Lord William,\u2019 she says,\n \u2018For I fear that you are slain.\u2019--\n \u2018\u2019Tis naething but the shadow of my scarlet cloak,\n That shines in the water sae plain.\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n O they rade on, and on they rade,\n And a\u2019 by the light of the moon,\n Until they cam\u2019 to his mother\u2019s ha\u2019 door,\n And there they lighted doun.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Get up, get up, lady mother,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018Get up, and let me in!\n Get up, get up, lady mother,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018For this night my fair lady I\u2019ve win.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018O mak my bed, lady mother,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018O mak it braid and deep,\n And lay Lady Margret close at my back,\n And the sounder I will sleep.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n Lord William was dead lang ere midnight,\n Lady Margret lang ere day,\n And all true lovers that go thegither,\n May they have mair luck than they!\n\n XVIII\n\n Lord William was buried in St. Mary\u2019s kirk,\n Lady Margret in Mary\u2019s quire;\n Out o\u2019 the lady\u2019s grave grew a bonny red rose,\n And out o\u2019 the knight\u2019s a brier.\n\n XIX\n\n And they twa met, and they twa plat[285],\n And fain they wad be near;\n And a\u2019 the warld might ken right weel\n They were twa lovers dear.\n\n XX\n\n But bye and rade the Black Douglas,\n And wow but he was rough!\n For he pull\u2019d up the bonny brier,\n And flang \u2019t in St. Mary\u2019s Lough.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[284] dighted = dressed.\n\n[285] plat = pleated.\n\n\n\n\n_40. Glasgerion_\n\n\n I\n\n Glasgerion was a King\u2019s own son,\n And a harper he was good;\n He harp\u00e8d in the King\u2019s chamber\n Where cup and candle stood,\n And so did he in the Queen\u2019s chamber,\n Till ladies wax\u00e8d wood[286].\n\n II\n\n And then bespake the King\u2019s daughter\n And these words thus said she:\n [\u2018There\u2019s never a stroke comes over this harp,\n But it glads the heart of me.\u2019]\n\n III\n\n Said, \u2018Strike on, strike on, Glasgerion,\n Of thy striking do not blin[287];\n There\u2019s never a stroke comes over thine harp\n But it glads my heart within.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n \u2018Fair might you fall, lady,\u2019 quoth he;\n \u2018Who taught you now to speak?\n I have loved you, lady, seven year;\n My heart I durst ne\u2019er break.\u2019--\n\n V\n\n \u2018But come to my bower, my Glasgerion,\n When all men are at rest;\n As I am a lady true of my promise,\n Thou shalt be a welcome guest.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n But home then came Glasgerion,\n A glad man, Lord, was he!\n \u2018And come thou hither, Jack, my boy,\n Come hither unto me.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018For the King\u2019s daughter of Normandye\n Her love is granted me;\n And before the cock have crowen\n At her chamber must I be.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018But come you hither, master,\u2019 quoth he,\n \u2018Lay your head down on this stone;\n For I will waken you, master dear,\n Afore it be time to gone.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n But up then rose that lither[288] lad,\n And did on hose and shoon;\n A collar he cast upon his neck,\n He seem\u00e8d a gentleman.\n\n X\n\n And when he came to that lady\u2019s chamber\n He tirl\u2019d[289] upon a pin;\n The lady was true of her promise,\n Rose up and let him in.\n\n XI\n\n He did not kiss that lady gay\n When he came nor when he yode[290];\n And sore mistrusted that lady gay\n He was of some churle\u2019s blood.\n\n XII\n\n But home then came that lither lad,\n And did off his hose and shoon,\n And cast that collar from \u2019bout his neck;\n He was but a churl\u00e8\u2019s son:\n \u2018Awaken,\u2019 quoth he, \u2018my master dear,\n I hold it time to be gone.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018For I have saddled your horse, master,\n Well bridled I have your steed;\n Have not I served a good breakfast\n When time comes I have need?\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n But up then rose good Glasgerion,\n And did on both hose and shoon,\n And cast a collar about his neck;\n He was a King\u00e9\u2019s son.\n\n XV\n\n And when he came to that lady\u2019s chamber,\n He tirl\u2019d upon a pin;\n The lady was more than true of her promise,\n Rose up, and let him in.\n\n XVI\n\n Says, \u2018Whether have you left with me\n Your bracelet or your glove?\n Or are you back return\u2019d again\n To know more of my love?\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n Glasgerion swore a full great oath\n By oak and ash and thorn,\n \u2018Lady, I was never in your chamber\n Sith the time that I was born.\u2019--\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018O then it was your little foot-page\n Falsely hath beguiled me\u2019:\n And then she pull\u2019d forth a little pen-knife\n That hang\u00e8d by her knee,\n Says, \u2018There shall never no churl\u00e8\u2019s blood\n Spring within my bodye.\u2019\n\n XIX\n\n But home then went Glasgerion,\n A woe man, Lord, was he;\n Sayes, \u2018Come hither, thou Jack, my boy,\n Come thou hither to me.\n\n XX\n\n \u2018For if I had kill\u2019d a man to-night,\n Jack, I would tell it thee,\n But if I have not kill\u2019d a man to-night,\n Jack, thou hast kill\u00e9d three!\u2019\n\n XXI\n\n And he pull\u2019d out his bright brown sword,\n And dried it on his sleeve,\n And he smote off that lither lad\u2019s head\n And ask\u2019d no man no leave.\n\n XXII\n\n He set the sword\u2019s point till his breast,\n The pommel till a stone;\n Through the falseness of that lither lad\n These three lives wern all gone.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[286] wood = crazy, wild with delight.\n\n[287] blin = stint, cease.\n\n[288] lither = rascally, vile.\n\n[289] tirl\u2019d = rattled.\n\n[290] yode = went.\n\n\n\n\n_41. King Estmere_\n\n\n I\n\n Hearken to me, gentlemen,\n Come and you shall heare;\n Ile tell you of two of the boldest brether\n That ever born\u00e8 were.\n\n II\n\n The tone of them was Adler Younge,\n The tother was Kyng Estmere;\n They were as bolde men in their deeds\n As any were, farr and neare.\n\n III\n\n As they were drinking ale and wine\n Within his brother\u2019s hall,\n \u2018When will ye marry a wyfe, brother,\n A wyfe to glad us all?\u2019\n\n IV\n\n Then bespake him Kyng Estmere,\n And answered him hartilye:\n \u2018I know not that ladye in any land,\n That\u2019s able to marrye with mee.\u2019--\n\n V\n\n \u2018Kyng Adland hath a daughter, brother,\n Men call her bright and sheene;\n If I were kyng here in your stead,\n That ladye shold be my queene.\u2019--\n\n VI\n\n Saies, \u2018Reade me, reade me, deare brother,\n Throughout merry England,\n Where we might find a messenger\n Betwixt us towe to sende.\u2019--\n\n VII\n\n Saies, \u2018You shal ryde yourselfe, brother,\n Ile beare you companye;\n Many a man throughe fals messengers is deceived,\n And I feare lest soe shold wee.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n Thus they renisht[291] them to ryde,\n Of twoe good renisht steeds,\n And when they came to Kyng Adland\u2019s halle,\n Of redd gold shone their weeds[292].\n\n IX\n\n And when they came to Kyng Adland\u2019s halle,\n Before the goodlye gate,\n There they found good Kyng Adland\n Rearing[293] himselfe theratt.\n\n X\n\n \u2018Now Christ thee save, good Kyng Adland;\n Now Christ you save and see.\u2019--\n Sayd, \u2018You be welcome, Kyng Estmere,\n Right hartilye to mee.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n \u2018You have a daughter,\u2019 said Adler Younge,\n \u2018Men call her bright and sheene;\n My brother wold marrye her to his wiffe,\n Of Englande to be queene.\u2019--\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Yesterday was att my deere daughter\n Kyng Bremor his sonne of Spayn,\n And then she nick\u00e8d[294] him of naye,\n And I doubt sheele do you the same.\u2019--\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018The Kyng of Spayne is a foule paynim,\n And \u2019lieveth on Mahound,\n And pitye it were that fayre ladye\n Shold marry a heathen hound.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018But grant to me,\u2019 sayes Kyng Estmere,\n \u2018For my love I you praye,\n That I may see your daughter deere\n Before I goe hence awaye.\u2019--\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Although itt is seven yeers and more\n Since my daughter was in halle,\n She shall come once downe for your sake,\n To glad my guest\u00e8s alle.\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n Downe then came that mayden fayre,\n With ladyes laced in pall[295],\n And halfe a hundred of bold knightes,\n To bring her from bowre to hall,\n And as many gentle squiers,\n To tend upon them all.\n\n XVII\n\n The talents of golde were on her head sette\n Hanged low downe to her knee,\n And everye ring on her small finger\n Shone of the chrystall free.\n\n XVIII\n\n Saies, \u2018God you save, my deere madam,\u2019\n Saies, \u2018God you save and see!\u2019--\n Said, \u2018You be welcome, Kyng Estmere,\n Right welcome unto mee.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018And, if you love me, as you saye,\n Soe well and hartilee,\n All that ever you are comen about\n Soone sped now itt shal bee.\u2019\n\n XX\n\n Then bespake her father deare:\n \u2018My daughter, I saye naye;\n Remember well the Kyng of Spayne,\n What he sayd yesterdaye.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018He wold pull downe my halles and castles,\n And reave me of my lyfe;\n I cannot blame him if he doe,\n If I reave him of his wyfe.\u2019--\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018Your castles and your towres, father,\n Are stronglye built aboute,\n And therefore of the Kyng his sonne of Spaine\n Wee neede not stande in doubt.\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018Plight me your troth, nowe, Kyng Estmere,\n By heaven and your righte hand,\n That you will marrye me to your wyfe,\n And make me queene of your land.\u2019\n\n XXIV\n\n Then Kyng Estmere he plight his troth,\n By heaven and his righte hand,\n That he wolde marrye her to his wyfe,\n And make her queene of his land.\n\n XXV\n\n And he tooke leave of that ladye fayre,\n To goe to his owne countree,\n To fetche him dukes and lordes and knightes,\n That marryed they might bee.\n\n XXVI\n\n They had not ridden scant a myle,\n A myle forthe of the towne,\n But in did come the Kyng of Spayne,\n With kemp\u00e8s[296] many one.\n\n XXVII\n\n But in did come the Kyng of Spayne,\n With manye a bold barone,\n Tone day to marrye Kyng Adland\u2019s daughter,\n Tother daye to carrye her home.\n\n XXVIII\n\n Shee sent one after Kyng Estmere,\n In all the spede might bee,\n That he must either turne againe and fighte,\n Or goe home and loose his ladye.\n\n XXIX\n\n One whyle then the page he went,\n Another while he ranne;\n Till he had oretaken Kyng Estmere,\n I-wis he never blanne[297].\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018Tydings, tydings, Kyng Estmere!\u2019--\n \u2018What tydings nowe, my boye?\u2019--\n \u2018O tydinges I can tell to you,\n That will you sore annoye.\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018You had not ridden scant a mile,\n A mile out of the towne,\n But in did come the Kyng of Spayne,\n With kemp\u00e8s many a one:\n\n XXXII\n\n \u2018But in did come the Kyng of Spayne,\n With manye a bold barone,\n Tone daye to marrye Kyng Adland\u2019s daughter,\n Tother daye to carry her home.\n\n XXXIII\n\n \u2018My ladye fayre she greetes you well,\n And ever-more well by mee;\n You must either turne againe and fighte,\n Or goe home and loose your ladye.\u2019--\n\n XXXIV\n\n Saies, \u2018Reade me, reade me, deere brother,\n My reade shall ryse[298] at thee;\n Whether it is better to turne and fighte,\n Or goe home and loose my ladye.\u2019\n\n XXXV\n\n \u2018Now hearken to me,\u2019 sayes Adler Yonge,\n \u2018And your reade must rise at me;\n I quicklye will devise a waye\n To sette thy ladye free.\n\n XXXVI\n\n \u2018My mother was a westerne woman,\n And learned in gramarye,\n And when I learn\u00e8d at the schole,\n Something shee taught itt mee.\n\n XXXVII\n\n \u2018There growes an hearbe within this field,\n And iff it were but knowne,\n His color, which is whyte and redd,\n It will make blacke and browne.\n\n XXXVIII\n\n \u2018His color, which is browne and blacke,\n Itt will make redd and whyte;\n That sworde is not in all Englande\n Upon his coate will byte.\n\n XXXIX\n\n \u2018And you shal be a harper, brother,\n Out of the north countrye,\n And Ile be your boy, soe faine of fighte,\n And beare your harpe by your knee.\n\n XL\n\n \u2018And you shal be the best harper\n That ever tooke harpe in hand,\n And I wil be the best singer\n That ever sung in this lande.\n\n XLI\n\n \u2018Itt shal be written in our forheads,\n All and in grammarye,\n That we towe are the boldest men\n That are in all Christentye.\u2019\n\n XLII\n\n And thus they renisht them to ryde,\n Of tow good renisht steedes,\n And when they came to Kyng Adland\u2019s halle,\n Of redd gold shone their weedes.\n\n XLIII\n\n And whan they came to Kyng Adland\u2019s halle\n Untill the fayre hall yate[299],\n There they found a proud port\u00e8r,\n Rearing himselfe thereatt.\n\n XLIV\n\n Sayes, \u2018Christ thee save, thou proud porter,\u2019\n Sayes, \u2018Christ thee save and see!\u2019--\n \u2018Nowe you be welcome,\u2019 sayd the porter,\n \u2018Of what land soever ye bee.\u2019\n\n XLV\n\n \u2018Wee been\u00e8 harpers,\u2019 sayd Adler Younge,\n \u2018Come out of the northe countrye;\n Wee been\u00e8 come hither untill this place\n This proud weddinge for to see.\u2019--\n\n XLVI\n\n Sayd, \u2018And your color were white and redd,\n As it is blacke and browne,\n I wold saye Kyng Estmere and his brother\n Were comen untill this towne.\u2019\n\n XLVII\n\n Then they pulled out a ryng of gold,\n Layd itt on the porter\u2019s arme:\n \u2018And ever we will thee, proud port\u00e8r,\n Thow wilt saye us no harme.\u2019\n\n XLVIII\n\n Sore he looked on Kyng Estmere,\n And sore he handled the ryng,\n Then opened to them the fayre hall yates,\n He lett for no kind of thyng.\n\n XLIX\n\n Kyng Estmere he stabled his steede\n Soe fayre att the hall-bord;\n The froth that came from his brydle bitte\n Light in Kyng Bremor\u2019s beard.\n\n L\n\n Saies, \u2018Stable thy steed, thou proud harp\u00e8r,\u2019\n Saies, \u2018Stable him in the stalle;\n It doth not beseeme a proud harp\u00e8r\n To stable his steed in a kyng\u2019s halle.\u2019\n\n LI\n\n \u2018My ladde he is so lither[300],\u2019 he said,\n \u2018He will doe nought that\u2019s meete;\n And is there any man in this hall\n Were able him to beate?\u2019\n\n LII\n\n \u2018Thou speakst proud words,\u2019 sayes the Kyng of Spaine,\n \u2018Thou harper, here to mee;\n There is a man within this halle\n Will beate thy ladd and thee.\u2019--\n\n LIII\n\n \u2018O let that man come downe,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018A sight of him wold I see;\n And when hee hath beaten well my ladd,\n Then he shall beate of mee.\u2019\n\n LIV\n\n Downe then came the kemperye man,\n And look\u00e8d him in the eare;\n For all the gold that was under heaven,\n He durst not neigh[301] him neare.\n\n LV\n\n \u2018And how nowe, kempe,\u2019 said the Kyng of Spaine,\n \u2018And how, what aileth thee?\u2019--\n He saies, \u2018It is writt in his forhead,\n All and in gramarye,\n That for all the gold that is under heaven,\n I dare not neigh him nye.\u2019\n\n LVI\n\n Then Kyng Estmere pull\u2019d forth his harpe,\n And play\u2019d a pretty thinge;\n The ladye upstart from the borde,\n And wold have gone from the king.\n\n LVII\n\n \u2018Stay thy harpe, thou proud harp\u00e8r,\n For God\u2019s love I pray thee;\n For and thou playes as thou beginns,\n Thou\u2019lt till[302] my bryde from mee.\u2019\n\n LVIII\n\n He stroake upon his harpe againe,\n And play\u2019d a pretty thinge;\n The ladye lough a loud laughter,\n As shee sate by the king.\n\n LIX\n\n Saies, \u2018Sell me thy harpe, thou proud harp\u00e8r,\n And thy string\u00ebs all;\n For as many gold nobles thou shall have,\n As heere bee ringes in the hall.\u2019\n\n LX\n\n \u2018What wold ye doe with my harpe,\u2019 he sayd,\n \u2018If I did sell itt yee?\u2019--\n \u2018To playe my wiffe and me a fitt[303],\n When abed together wee bee.\u2019\n\n LXI\n\n \u2018Now sell me,\u2019 quoth hee, \u2018thy bryde soe gay,\n As shee sitts by thy knee;\n And as many gold nobles I will give\n As leaves been on a tree.\u2019\n\n LXII\n\n \u2018And what wold ye doe with my bryde soe gay,\n Iff I did sell her thee?\n More seemelye it is for her fayre bodye\n To lye by mee then thee.\u2019\n\n LXIII\n\n Hee played agayne both loud and shrille,\n And Adler he did syng,\n \u2018O ladye, this is thy owne true love,\n Noe harper, but a kyng.\n\n LXIV\n\n \u2018O Ladye, this is thy owne true love,\n As playnlye thou mayest see,\n And Ile rid thee of that foule paynim\n Who partes thy love and thee.\u2019\n\n LXV\n\n The ladye looked, the ladye blushte,\n And blushte and lookt agayne,\n While Adler he hath drawne his brande,\n And hath the Sowdan slayne.\n\n LXVI\n\n Up then rose the kemperye men,\n And loud they gan to crye:\n \u2018Ah! traytors, yee have slayne our kyng,\n And therefore yee shall dye.\u2019\n\n LXVII\n\n Kyng Estmere threwe the harpe asyde,\n And swith[304] he drew his brand,\n And Estmere he and Adler Yonge\n Right stiffe in stour[305] can stand.\n\n LXVIII\n\n And aye their swordes soe sore can byte,\n Throughe help of gramarye,\n That soone they have slayne the kempery men,\n Or forst them forth to flee.\n\n LXIX\n\n Kyng Estmere tooke that fayre ladye,\n And marryed her to his wiffe,\n And brought her home to merry England,\n With her to lead his life.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[291] renisht = _perhaps for_ \u2018revisht\u2019, dressed, arrayed.\n\n[292] weeds = garments.\n\n[293] rearing = leaning.\n\n[294] nick\u00e8d = refused.\n\n[295] pall = fine cloth.\n\n[296] kemp\u00e8s = fighting-men.\n\n[297] blanne = halted.\n\n[298] My reade shall ryse = my counsel shall arise, or spring, from\nthee.\n\n[299] yate = gate.\n\n[300] lither = naughty.\n\n[301] neigh = come nigh, approach.\n\n[302] till = entice.\n\n[303] fitt = strain of music.\n\n[304] swith = swiftly.\n\n[305] stour = press of fighting.\n\n\n\n\n_42. Fair Annie_\n\n\n I\n\n \u2018It\u2019s narrow, narrow, mak your bed,\n And learn to lie your lane;\n For I\u2019m gaun owre the sea, Fair Annie,\n A braw Bride to bring hame.\n Wi\u2019 her I will get gowd and gear,\n Wi\u2019 you I ne\u2019er gat nane.\n\n II\n\n \u2018But wha will bake my bridal bread,\n Or brew my bridal ale?\n And wha will become my bright Bride,\n That I bring owre the dale?\u2019--\n\n III\n\n \u2018It\u2019s I will bake your bridal bread,\n And brew your bridal ale;\n And I will welcome your bright Bride,\n That you bring owre the dale.\u2019--\n\n IV\n\n \u2018But she that welcomes my bright Bride\n Maun gang like maiden fair;\n She maun lace on her robe sae jimp[306],\n And comely braid her hair.\n\n V\n\n \u2018Bind up, bind up your yellow hair,\n And tie it on your neck;\n And see you look as maiden-like\n As the day that first we met.\u2019--\n\n VI\n\n \u2018O how can I gang maiden-like,\n When maiden I am nane?\n Have I not borne six sons to thee,\n And am wi\u2019 child again?\u2019--\n\n VII\n\n \u2018I\u2019ll put cooks into my kitchen,\n And stewards in my hall,\n And I\u2019ll have bakers for my bread,\n And brewers for my ale;\n But you\u2019re to welcome my bright Bride,\n That I bring owre the dale.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n Three months and a day were gane and past,\n Fair Annie she gat word\n That her love\u2019s ship was come at last,\n Wi\u2019 his bright young Bride aboard.\n\n IX\n\n She\u2019s ta\u2019en her young son in her arms,\n Anither in her hand;\n And she\u2019s gane up to the highest tower,\n Looks over sea and land.\n\n X\n\n \u2018Come doun, come doun, my mother dear,\n Come aff the castle wa\u2019!\n I fear if langer ye stand there,\n Ye\u2019ll let yoursell doun fa\u2019.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n She\u2019s ta\u2019en a cake o\u2019 the best bread,\n A stoup o\u2019 the best wine,\n And a\u2019 the keys upon her arm,\n And to the yett[307] is gane.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018O ye\u2019re welcome hame, my ain gude lord,\n To your castles and your towers;\n Ye\u2019re welcome hame, my ain gude lord,\n To your ha\u2019s, but and your bowers.\n And welcome to your hame, fair lady!\n For a\u2019 that\u2019s here is yours.\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018O whatna lady\u2019s that, my lord,\n That welcomes you and me?\n Gin I be lang about this place,\n Her friend I mean to be.\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n Fair Annie served the lang tables\n Wi\u2019 the white bread and the wine;\n But ay she drank the wan water\n To keep her colour fine.\n\n XV\n\n And aye she served the lang tables\n Wi\u2019 the white bread and the brown,\n And aye she turn\u2019d her round about,\n Sae fast the tears fell doun.\n\n XVI\n\n She took a napkin lang and white,\n And hung it on a pin;\n It was to wipe away the tears,\n As she gaed out and in.\n\n XVII\n\n When bells were rung and mass was sung,\n And a\u2019 men bound for bed,\n The bridegroom and the bonny Bride\n In ae chamber were laid.\n\n XVIII\n\n Fair Annie\u2019s ta\u2019en a harp in her hand,\n To harp thir twa asleep;\n But ay, as she harpit and she sang,\n Fu\u2019 sairly did she weep.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018O gin my sons were seven rats,\n Rinnin\u2019 on the castle wa\u2019,\n And I mysell a great grey cat,\n I soon wad worry them a\u2019!\n\n XX\n\n \u2018O gin my sons were seven hares,\n Rinnin\u2019 owre yon lily lea,\n And I mysell a good greyhound,\n Soon worried they a\u2019 should be!\u2019\n\n XXI\n\n Then out and spak the bonny young Bride,\n In bride-bed where she lay:\n \u2018That\u2019s like my sister Annie,\u2019 she says;\n \u2018Wha is it doth sing and play?\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018I\u2019ll put on my gown,\u2019 said the new-come Bride,\n \u2018And my shoes upon my feet;\n I will see wha doth sae sadly sing,\n And what is it gars her greet.\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018What ails you, what ails you, my housekeeper,\n That ye mak sic a mane?\n Has ony wine-barrel cast its girds,\n Or is a\u2019 your white bread gane?\u2019--\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018It isna because my wine is spilt,\n Or that my white bread\u2019s gane;\n But because I\u2019ve lost my true love\u2019s love,\n And he\u2019s wed to anither ane.\u2019--\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018Noo tell me wha was your father?\u2019 she says,\n \u2018Noo tell me wha was your mither?\n And had ye ony sister?\u2019 she says,\n \u2018And had ye ever a brither?\u2019--\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018The Earl of Wemyss was my father,\n The Countess of Wemyss my mither,\n Young Elinor she was my sister dear,\n And Lord John he was my brither.\u2019--\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018If the Earl of Wemyss was your father,\n I wot sae was he mine;\n And it\u2019s O my sister Annie!\n Your love ye sallna tyne[308].\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018Tak your husband, my sister dear;\n You ne\u2019er were wrang\u2019d for me,\n Beyond a kiss o\u2019 his merry mouth\n As we cam owre the sea.\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018Seven ships, loaded weel,\n Cam owre the sea wi\u2019 me;\n Ane o\u2019 them will tak me hame,\n And six I\u2019ll gie to thee.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[306] jimp = slender, trim.\n\n[307] yett = gate.\n\n[308] tyne = lose.\n\n\n\n\n_43. The Lass of Lochroyan_\n\n\n I\n\n \u2018O wha will shoe my bonny foot?\n And wha will glove my hand?\n And wha will bind my middle jimp[309]\n Wi\u2019 a lang, lang linen band?\n\n II\n\n \u2018O wha will kame[310] my yellow hair,\n With a haw bayberry[311] kame?\n And wha will be my babe\u2019s father\n Till Gregory come hame?\u2019--\n\n III\n\n \u2018Thy father, he will shoe thy foot,\n Thy brother will glove thy hand,\n Thy mither will bind thy middle jimp\n Wi\u2019 a lang, lang linen band.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018Thy sister will kame thy yellow hair,\n Wi\u2019 a haw bayberry kame;\n The Almighty will be thy babe\u2019s father\n Till Gregory come hame.\u2019--\n\n V\n\n \u2018And wha will build a bonny ship,\n And set it on the sea?\n For I will go to seek my love,\n My ain love Gregory.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n Up then spak her father dear,\n A wafu\u2019 man was he;\n \u2018And I will build a bonny ship,\n And set her on the sea.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018And I will build a bonny ship,\n And set her on the sea,\n And ye sal gae and seek your love,\n Your ain love Gregory.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n Then he\u2019s gart build a bonny ship,\n And set it on the sea,\n Wi\u2019 four-and-twenty mariners,\n To bear her company.\n\n IX\n\n O he\u2019s gart build a bonny ship,\n To sail on the salt sea;\n The mast was o\u2019 the beaten gold,\n The sails o\u2019 cramoisie[312].\n\n X\n\n The sides were o\u2019 the gude stout aik,\n The deck o\u2019 mountain pine,\n The anchor o\u2019 the silver shene,\n The ropes o\u2019 silken twine.\n\n XI\n\n She hadna sail\u2019d but twenty leagues,\n But twenty leagues and three,\n When she met wi\u2019 a rank reiver[313],\n And a\u2019 his companie.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Now are ye Queen of Heaven hie,\n Come to pardon a\u2019 our sin?\n Or are ye Mary Magdalane,\n Was born at Bethlehem?\u2019--\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018I\u2019m no the Queen of Heaven hie,\n Come to pardon ye your sin,\n Nor am I Mary Magdalane,\n Was born in Bethlehem.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018But I\u2019m the lass of Lochroyan,\n That\u2019s sailing on the sea\n To see if I can find my love,\n My ain love Gregory.\u2019--\n\n XV\n\n \u2018O see na ye yon bonny bower?\n It\u2019s a\u2019 covered owre wi\u2019 tin?\n When thou hast sail\u2019d it round about,\n Lord Gregory is within.\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n And when she saw the stately tower,\n Shining both clear and bright,\n Whilk stood aboon the jawing[314] wave,\n Built on a rock of height,\n\n XVII\n\n Says, \u2018Row the boat, my mariners,\n And bring me to the land,\n For yonder I see my love\u2019s castle,\n Close by the salt sea strand.\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n She sail\u2019d it round, and sail\u2019d it round,\n And loud and loud cried she,\n \u2018Now break, now break your fairy charms,\n And set my true-love free!\u2019\n\n XIX\n\n She\u2019s ta\u2019en her young son in her arms,\n And to the door she\u2019s gane,\n And long she knock\u2019d, and sair she ca\u2019d,\n But answer got she nane.\n\n XX\n\n \u2018O open, open, Gregory!\n O open! if ye be within;\n For here\u2019s the lass of Lochroyan,\n Come far fra kith and kin.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018O open the door, Lord Gregory!\n O open and let me in!\n The wind blows loud and cauld, Gregory,\n The rain drops fra my chin.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018The shoe is frozen to my foot,\n The glove unto my hand,\n The wet drops fra my yellow hair,\n Na langer dow[315] I stand.\u2019\n\n XXIII\n\n O up then spak his ill mither,\n --An ill death may she die!\n \u2018Ye\u2019re no the lass of Lochroyan,\n She\u2019s far out-owre the sea.\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018Awa\u2019, awa\u2019, ye ill woman,\n Ye\u2019re no come here for gude;\n Ye\u2019re but some witch or wil\u2019 warlock,\n Or mermaid o\u2019 the flood.\u2019--\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018I am neither witch nor wil\u2019 warlock,\n Nor mermaid o\u2019 the sea,\n But I am Annie of Lochroyan,\n O open the door to me!\u2019--\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018Gin ye be Annie of Lochroyan,\n As I trow thou binna she,\n Now tell me of some love-tokens\n That pass\u2019d \u2019tween thee and me.\u2019\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018O dinna ye mind, love Gregory,\n As we sat at the wine,\n We changed the rings frae our fingers?\n And I can shew thee thine.\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018O yours was gude, and gude enough,\n But ay the best was mine,\n For yours was o\u2019 the gude red gowd,\n But mine o\u2019 the diamond fine.\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018Yours was o\u2019 the gude red gowd,\n Mine o\u2019 the diamond fine;\n Mine was o\u2019 the purest troth,\n But thine was false within.\u2019--\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018If ye be the lass of Lochroyan,\n As I kenna thou be,\n Tell me some mair o\u2019 the love-tokens\n Pass\u2019d between thee and me.\u2019--\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018And dinna ye mind, love Gregory!\n As we sat on the hill,\n Thou twin\u2019d me o\u2019 my maidenheid,\n Right sair against my will?\n\n XXXII\n\n \u2018Now open the door, love Gregory!\n Open the door! I pray;\n For thy young son is in my arms;\n And will be dead ere day.\u2019--\n\n XXXIII\n\n \u2018Ye lie, ye lie, ye ill woman,\n So loud I hear ye lie;\n For Annie of the Lochroyan\n Is far out-owre the sea.\u2019\n\n XXXIV\n\n Fair Annie turn\u2019d her round about:\n \u2018Weel, sine that it be sae,\n May ne\u2019er woman that has borne a son\n Hae a heart sae fu\u2019 o\u2019 wae!\n\n XXXV\n\n \u2018Tak down, tak down that mast o\u2019 gowd,\n Set up a mast of tree;\n It disna become a forsaken lady\n To sail sae royallie.\u2019\n\n XXXVI\n\n When the cock had crawn, and the day did dawn,\n And the sun began to peep,\n Up then raise Lord Gregory,\n And sair, sair did he weep.\n\n XXXVII\n\n \u2018O I hae dream\u2019d a dream, mither,\n I wish it may bring good!\n That the bonny lass of Lochroyan\n At my bower window stood.\n\n XXXVIII\n\n \u2018O I hae dream\u2019d a dream, mither,\n The thought o\u2019t gars me greet!\n That fair Annie of Lochroyan\n Lay dead at my bed-feet.\u2019--\n\n XXXIX\n\n \u2018Gin it be for Annie of Lochroyan\n That ye mak a\u2019 this mane,\n She stood last night at your bower-door,\n But I hae sent her hame.\u2019--\n\n XL\n\n \u2018O wae betide ye, ill woman,\n An ill death may ye die!\n That wadna open the door yoursell\n Nor yet wad waken me.\u2019\n\n XLI\n\n O he\u2019s gane down to yon shore-side,\n As fast as he could dree,\n And there he saw fair Annie\u2019s bark\n A rowing owre the sea.\n\n XLII\n\n \u2018O Annie, Annie,\u2019 loud he cried,\n \u2018O Annie, O Annie, bide!\u2019\n But ay the mair he cried \u2018Annie,\u2019\n The braider grew the tide.\n\n XLIII\n\n \u2018O Annie, Annie, dear Annie,\n Dear Annie, speak to me!\u2019\n But ay the louder he \u2019gan call,\n The louder roar\u2019d the sea.\n\n XLIV\n\n The wind blew loud, the waves rose hie\n And dash\u2019d the boat on shore;\n Fair Annie\u2019s corpse was in the faem,\n The babe rose never more.\n\n XLV\n\n Lord Gregory tore his gowden locks\n And made a wafu\u2019 moan;\n Fair Annie\u2019s corpse lay at his feet,\n His bonny son was gone.\n\n XLVI\n\n O cherry, cherry was her cheek,\n And gowden was her hair,\n And coral, coral was her lips,\n Nane might with her compare!\n\n XLVII\n\n Then first he kiss\u2019d her pale, pale cheek,\n And syne he kiss\u2019d her chin,\n And syne he kiss\u2019d her wane, wane lips,\n There was na breath within.\n\n XLVIII\n\n \u2018O wae betide my ill mither,\n An ill death may she die!\n She turn\u2019d my true-love frae my door,\n Who cam so far to me.\n\n XLIX\n\n \u2018O wae betide my ill mither,\n An ill death may she die!\n She has no been the deid[316] o\u2019 ane,\n But she\u2019s been the deid of three.\u2019\n\n L\n\n Then he\u2019s ta\u2019en out a little dart,\n Hung low down by his gore[317],\n He thrust it through and through his heart,\n And words spak never more.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[309] jimp = slim.\n\n[310] kame = comb.\n\n[311] haw bayberry =? _a corruption for_ \u2018braw ivory\u2019: _or_ bayberry\n_may_ = laurel-wood.\n\n[312] cramoisie = crimson.\n\n[313] reiver = robber.\n\n[314] jawing = surging.\n\n[315] dow = can.\n\n[316] deid = death.\n\n[317] gore = skirt, waist.\n\n\n\n\n_44. Young Bekie_\n\n\n I\n\n Young Bekie was as brave a knight\n As ever sail\u2019d the sea;\n And he\u2019s doen him to the court of France,\n To serve for meat and fee.\n\n II\n\n He had nae been i\u2019 the court of France\n A twelvemonth nor sae long,\n Til he fell in love with the king\u2019s daughter,\n And was thrown in prison strong.\n\n III\n\n The king he had but ae daughter,\n Burd Isbel was her name;\n And she has to the prison-house gane,\n To hear the prisoner\u2019s mane.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018O gin a lady wou\u2019d borrow[318] me,\n At her stirrup-foot I wou\u2019d rin;\n Or gin a widow wou\u2019d borrow me,\n I wou\u2019d swear to be her son.\n\n V\n\n \u2018Or gin a virgin wou\u2019d borrow me,\n I wou\u2019d wed her wi\u2019 a ring;\n I\u2019d gie her ha\u2019s, I\u2019d gie her bowers,\n The bonny towrs o\u2019 Linne.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n O barefoot, barefoot gaed she but[319],\n And barefoot came she ben[320];\n It was no for want o\u2019 hose and shoone,\n Nor time to put them on;\n\n VII\n\n But a\u2019 for fear that her father dear\n Had heard her making din:\n She\u2019s stown the keys o\u2019 the prison-house door\n And latten the prisoner gang.\n\n VIII\n\n O whan she saw him, Young Bekie,\n Her heart was wondrous sair!\n For the mice but and the bold rottons[321]\n Had eaten his yallow hair.\n\n IX\n\n She\u2019s gi\u2019en him a shaver for his beard,\n A comber till his hair,\n Five hunder pound in his pocket,\n To spen\u2019 and nae to spair.\n\n X\n\n She\u2019s gi\u2019en him a steed was good in need,\n An\u2019 a saddle o\u2019 royal bone[322],\n A leash o\u2019 hounds o\u2019 ae litter,\n And Hector call\u00e8d one.\n\n XI\n\n Atween this twa a vow was made,\n \u2019Twas made full solemnly.\n That or three years was come an\u2019 gane,\n Well married they should be.\n\n XII\n\n He had nae been in \u2019s ain country\n A twelvemonth till an end,\n Till he\u2019s forc\u2019d to marry a duke\u2019s daughter,\n Or than[323] lose a\u2019 his land.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018Ohon, alas!\u2019 says Young Bekie,\n \u2018I know not what to dee;\n For I canno win to Burd Isbel,\n An\u2019 she kensnae to come to me.\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n O it fell once upon a day\n Burd Isbel fell asleep,\n And up it starts the Billy Blind[324],\n And stood at her bed-feet.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018O waken, waken, Burd Isbel,\n How can you sleep so soun\u2019,\n Whan this is Bekie\u2019s wedding day,\n An\u2019 the marriage ga\u00efn on?\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018Ye do ye to your mither\u2019s bowr,\n Think neither sin nor shame;\n An\u2019 ye tak twa o\u2019 your mither\u2019s marys[325],\n To keep ye frae thinking lang.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018Ye dress yoursel\u2019 in the red scarl\u00e8t,\n An\u2019 your marys in dainty green,\n An\u2019 ye pit girdles about your middles\n Wou\u2019d buy an earldome.\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018O ye gang down by yon sea-side,\n An\u2019 down by yon sea-stran\u2019;\n Sae bonny will the Hollan\u2019s boats\n Come rowin\u2019 till your han\u2019.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018Ye set your milke-white foot abord,\n Cry, Hail ye, Domine!\n An\u2019 I shal be the steerer o\u2019t,\n To row you o\u2019er the sea.\u2019\n\n XX\n\n She\u2019s tane her till her mither\u2019s bowr,\n Thought neither sin nor shame,\n And she took twa o\u2019 her mither\u2019s marys,\n To keep her frae thinking lang.\n\n XXI\n\n She dress\u2019d hersel\u2019 i\u2019 the red scarl\u00e8t,\n Her marys i\u2019 dainty green,\n And they pat girdles about their middles\n Wou\u2019d buy an earldome.\n\n XXII\n\n And they gid down by yon sea-side,\n And down by yon sea-stran\u2019;\n Sae bonny did the Hollan\u2019s boats\n Come rowin\u2019 to their han\u2019.\n\n XXIII\n\n She set her milke-white foot on board,\n Cried, Hail ye, Domine!\n And the Billy Blind was the steerer o\u2019t,\n To row her o\u2019er the sea.\n\n XXIV\n\n Whan she came to young Bekie\u2019s gate,\n She heard the music play;\n Sae well she kent frae a\u2019 she heard,\n It was his wedding day.\n\n XXV\n\n She\u2019s pitten her han\u2019 in her pocket,\n Gi\u2019en the porter guineas three;\n \u2018Hae, tak ye that, ye proud port\u00e8r,\n Bid the bride-groom speake to me.\u2019\n\n XXVI\n\n O whan that he cam up the stair,\n He fell low down on his knee:\n He hail\u2019d the king, and he hail\u2019d the queen,\n And he hail\u2019d him, Young Bekie.\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018O I\u2019ve been porter at your gates\n This thirty years an\u2019 three;\n But there\u2019s three ladies at them now,\n Their like I never did see.\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018There\u2019s ane o\u2019 them dress\u2019d in red scarl\u00e8t,\n An\u2019 twa in dainty green,\n An\u2019 they hae girdles about their middles\n Wou\u2019d buy an earldome.\u2019\n\n XXIX\n\n Then out it spake the bierly[326] bride,\n Was a\u2019 goud to the chin;\n \u2018Gin she be braw without,\u2019 she says,\n \u2018We\u2019s be as braw within.\u2019\n\n XXX\n\n Then up it starts him, Young Bekie,\n And the tears was in his e\u2019e:\n \u2018I\u2019ll lay my life it\u2019s Burd Isbel,\n Come o\u2019er the sea to me.\u2019\n\n XXXI\n\n O quickly ran he down the stair,\n And whan he saw \u2019t was shee,\n He kindly took her in his arms,\n And kiss\u2019d her tenderly.\n\n XXXII\n\n \u2018O hae ye forgotten, Young Bekie,\n The vow ye made to me,\n Whan I took you out o\u2019 the prison strong,\n Whan ye was condemn\u2019d to die?\n\n XXXIII\n\n \u2018I gae you a steed was good in need,\n An\u2019 a saddle o\u2019 royal bone,\n A leash o\u2019 hounds o\u2019 ae litter,\n An\u2019 Hector call\u00e8d one.\u2019\n\n XXXIV\n\n It was well kent what the lady said,\n That it wasnae a lee,\n For at ilka word the lady spake,\n The hound fell at her knee.\n\n XXXV\n\n \u2018Tak hame, tak hame your daughter dear,\n A blessing gae her wi\u2019!\n For I maun marry my Burd Isbel,\n That\u2019s come o\u2019er the sea to me.\u2019\n\n XXXVI\n\n \u2018Is this the custom o\u2019 your house,\n Or the fashion o\u2019 your lan\u2019,\n To marry a maid in a May mornin\u2019,\n An\u2019 to send her back at even?\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[318] borrow = ransom.\n\n[319] but = out.\n\n[320] ben = in.\n\n[321] rottons = rats.\n\n[322] royal bone = ivory.\n\n[323] Or than = Or else.\n\n[324] Billy Blind = a friendly household fairy. See p. 80.\n\n[325] marys = maids.\n\n[326] bierly = stately.\n\n\n\n\n_45. Young Beichan_\n\n(_Another version of the foregoing_)\n\n\n I\n\n In London was Young Beichan born,\n He long\u2019d strange countries for to see;\n But he was ta\u2019en by a savage Moor\n Who handled him right cruellie.\n\n II\n\n For he view\u2019d the fashions of that land,\n Their way of worship view\u00e8d he;\n But to Mahound or Termagant\n Would Beichan never bend a knee.\n\n III\n\n So thro\u2019 every shoulder they\u2019ve bored a bore,\n And thro\u2019 every bore they\u2019ve putten a tree,\n And they have made him trail the wine\n And spices on his fair bodie.\n\n IV\n\n They\u2019ve casten him in a dungeon deep,\n Where he could neither hear nor see;\n And fed him on nought but bread and water\n Till he for hunger\u2019s like to die.\n\n V\n\n This Moor he had but ae daughter,\n Her name was call\u00e8d Susie Pye,\n And every day as she took the air\n She heard Young Beichan sadly crie:\n\n VI\n\n \u2018My hounds they all run masterless,\n My hawks they flie from tree to tree,\n My youngest brother will heir my lands;\n Fair England again I\u2019ll never see!\n\n VII\n\n \u2018O were I free as I hae been,\n And my ship swimming once more on sea,\n I\u2019d turn my face to fair England\n And sail no more to a strange countrie!\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n Young Beichan\u2019s song for thinking on\n All night she never closed her e\u2019e;\n She\u2019s stown[327] the keys from her father\u2019s head\n Wi\u2019 mickle gold and white monie.\n\n IX\n\n And she has open\u2019d the prison doors:\n I wot she open\u2019d twa or three\n Ere she could come Young Beichan at,\n He was lock\u2019d up so curiouslie.\n\n X\n\n \u2018O hae ye any lands or rents,\n Or cities in your own countrie,\n Cou\u2019d free you out of prison strong\n And cou\u2019d maintain a lady free?\u2019--\n\n XI\n\n \u2018O London city is my own,\n And other cities twa or three;\n I\u2019ll give them all to the lady fair\n That out of prison will set me free.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n O she has bribed her father\u2019s men\n Wi\u2019 mickle gold and white monie,\n She\u2019s gotten the keys of the prison strong,\n And she has set Young Beichan free.\n\n XIII\n\n She\u2019s fed him upon the good spice-cake,\n The Spanish wine and the malvoisie;\n She\u2019s broken a ring from off her finger\n And to Beichan half of it gave she.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018Go set your foot on good shipboard,\n And haste you back to your own countrie,\n But before that seven years has an end,\n Come back again, love, and marry me.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n It was long or seven years had an end\n She long\u2019d full sore her love to see;\n So she\u2019s set her foot on good ship-board\n And turn\u2019d her back on her own countrie.\n\n XVI\n\n She\u2019s sail\u00e8d east, she\u2019s sail\u00e8d west,\n She\u2019s sail\u00e8d all across the sea,\n And when she came to fair England\n The bells were ringing merrilie.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018O whose are a\u2019 yon flock o\u2019 sheep?\n And whose are a\u2019 yon flock o\u2019 kye[328]?\n And whose are a\u2019 yon pretty castles,\n That I so often do pass by?\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018O they are a\u2019 Lord Beichan\u2019s sheep,\n And they are a\u2019 Lord Beichan\u2019s kye,\n And they are a\u2019 Lord Beichan\u2019s castles\n That you so often do pass by.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018O there\u2019s a wedding in yonder ha\u2019,\n Has lasted thirty days and three;\n Lord Beichan will not bed wi\u2019 his bride\n For love of one that\u2019s \u2019yond the sea.\u2019\n\n XX\n\n When she came to Young Beichan\u2019s gate\n She tirl\u00e8d[329] softly at the pin;\n So ready was the proud port\u00e8r\n To open and let this lady in.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018Is this Young Beichan\u2019s gates?\u2019 she says,\n \u2018Or is that noble lord within?\u2019--\n \u2018He\u2019s up the stairs wi\u2019 his bonny bride,\n For this is the day o\u2019 his weddin\u2019.\u2019--\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018O has he taken a bonny bride,\n And has he clean forgotten me?\u2019\n And sighing said that ladye gay,\n \u2018I wish I were in my own countrie!\u2019\n\n XXIII\n\n She\u2019s putten her hand in her pock\u00e8t\n And gi\u2019en the porter guineas three;\n Says, \u2018Take ye that, ye proud port\u00e8r,\n And bid the bridegroom speak with me.\u2019\n\n XXIV\n\n And she has ta\u2019en her gay gold ring,\n That with her love she brake so free;\n Says, \u2018Gie him that, ye proud port\u00e8r,\n And bid the bridegroom speak with me.\u2019\n\n XXV\n\n O when the porter came up the stair,\n He\u2019s kneel\u00e8d low upon his knee:\n \u2018Won[330] up, won up, ye proud port\u00e8r,\n And what makes a\u2019 this courtesie?\u2019--\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018O I\u2019ve been porter at your gates\n I\u2019m sure this thirty years and three,\n But there is a lady stands thereat\n The fairest I did ever see.\u2019\n\n XXVII\n\n It\u2019s out then spake the bride\u2019s mother,\n --Aye, and an angry woman was she--\n \u2018Ye might have excepted our bonny bride,\n And twa or three of our companie.\u2019\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018My dame, your daughter\u2019s fair enough,\n And aye the fairer mote she be!\n But the fairest time that ever she was,\n She\u2019ll no compare wi\u2019 this ladye.\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018For on every finger she has a ring,\n And on the mid-finger she has three,\n And as mickle gold she has on her brow\n \u2019Would buy an earldome o\u2019 land to me.\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018And this golden ring that\u2019s broken in twa,\n She sends the half o\u2019 this golden ring,\n And bids you speak with a lady fair,\n That out o\u2019 prison did you bring.\u2019\n\n XXXI\n\n Then up and started Young Beichan\n And sware so loud by Our Ladye,\n \u2018It can be none but Susie Pye,\n That has come over the sea to me!\n\n XXXII\n\n O quickly ran he down the stair,\n Of fifteen steps he made but three;\n He\u2019s ta\u2019en his bonny love in his arms\n And kiss\u2019d and kiss\u2019d her tenderlie.\n\n XXXIII\n\n \u2018O have ye ta\u2019en another bride,\n And have ye quite forsaken me?\n And have ye clean forgotten her\n That gave you life and libertie?\u2019\n\n XXXIV\n\n She\u2019s look\u00e8d over her left shoulder\n To hide the tears stood in her e\u2019e;\n \u2018Now fare-thee-well, Young Beichan,\u2019 she says--\n \u2018I\u2019ll strive to think no more on thee.\u2019\n\n XXXV\n\n \u2018O never, never, Susie Pye,\n For surely this can never be,\n That ever I shall wed but her\n That\u2019s done and dreed[331] so much for me!\u2019\n\n XXXVI\n\n Then up bespake the bride\u2019s mother--\n She never was heard to speak so free:\n \u2018Ye\u2019ll not forsake my only daughter,\n Though Susie Pye has cross\u2019d the sea.\u2019\n\n XXXVII\n\n \u2018Take home, take home your daughter, madam,\n She\u2019s never a bit the worse for me;\n For saving a kiss of her bonny lips\n Of your daughter\u2019s body I am free.\u2019\n\n XXXVIII\n\n He\u2019s ta\u2019en her by the milk-white hand\n And led her to yon fountain-stone[332];\n He\u2019s changed her name from Susie Pye\n And call\u2019d her his bonny love Lady Joan.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[327] stown = stolen.\n\n[328] kye = kine, cattle.\n\n[329] tirl\u00e8d = rattled.\n\n[330] won = win, get.\n\n[331] dreed = suffered.\n\n[332] fountain-stone = font.\n\n\n\n\n_46. Childe Waters_\n\n\n I\n\n Childe Waters in his stable stood\n Stroking his milk-white steed:\n To him came a fair young lady\n As ever wore woman\u2019s weed.\n\n II\n\n Says, \u2018Christ you save, Childe Waters!\u2019\n Says, \u2018Christ you save and see!\n My girdle of gold, which was too long,\n Is now too short for me.\n\n III\n\n \u2018And all is with one child of yours\n I feel stir at my side:\n My gown of green, it is too strait;\n Before it was too wide.\u2019--\n\n IV\n\n \u2018If the child be mine, Burd Ellen,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018Be mine as you do swear,\n Take you Cheshire and Lancashire both,\n And make that child your heir.\u2019\n\n V\n\n She says, \u2018I would rather have one kiss,\n Childe Waters, of thy mouth\n Than I would have Cheshire and Lancashire both,\n That lies by north and south.\u2019--\n\n VI\n\n \u2018To-morrow, Ellen, I must ride\n Far into the north countrye.\u2019--\n \u2018Then I will run low by your side:\n Your foot-page let me be!\u2019--\n\n VII\n\n \u2018If you will be my foot-page, Ellen,\n As you do tell it me,\n Then you must cut your gown of green\n An inch above your knee.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n Childe Waters leapt on his milk-white steed,\n And fast away did ride:\n Burd Ellen has kilted her gay clothing,\n And ran low by his side.\n\n IX\n\n All this long day Childe Waters rode,\n She barefoot by his side;\n Yet was he never so courteous a knight\n As to say, \u2018Burd Ellen, ride.\u2019\n\n X\n\n He has ridden, and she has run,\n And barefoot through the broom;\n Yet was he never so courteous a knight\n As to say, \u2018Put on your shoon.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Ride softly,\u2019 she said, \u2018Childe Waters!\n O why do you ride so fast?\n The child which is no man\u2019s but yours\n My body it will brast.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n He has ridden on high horseback,\n And she\u2019s run low beside,\n Until they came to a wan water--\n I think men call it Clyde.\n\n XIII\n\n Says, \u2018See\u2019st yon water, Ellen,\n That flows from bank to brim?\u2019--\n \u2018I trust to God, Childe Waters\n You will never see me swim.\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n The firsten step Burd Ellen stept,\n The water came to her knee;\n \u2018Ochon, alas!\u2019 said Burd Ellen,\n \u2018This water\u2019s o\u2019er deep for me!\u2019\n\n XV\n\n The neisten step Burd Ellen stept,\n The water came to her middle;\n And sighing said Burd Ellen,\n \u2018I\u2019ve wetted my golden girdle!\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n The thirden step Burd Ellen slept,\n The water came to her pap;\n And the bairn that was in her two sides\n For cold began to quake.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018Lie still, lie still, my own dear babe!\n Ye work your mother woe;\n Your father that rides on high horseback\n Cares little for us two.\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n About the midst of Clyde-water\n There was a yeard-fast[333] stone:\n He lightly turn\u2019d his horse about\n And took Burd Ellen on.\n\n XIX\n\n When she over the water won,\n She then came to his knee:\n Says, \u2018How far is it to your lodgin\u2019\n Where we this night may be?\u2019--\n\n XX\n\n \u2018Seest thou not yon castle, Ellen?\n Of red gold shines the gate:\n There is twenty-and-four fair ladies\n And one my worldly mate.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018Seest thou not yon castle, Ellen?\n Of red gold shines the tower:\n There is twenty-and-four fair ladies,\n And one my paramour.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018Seest thou not yon castle, Ellen,\n That shines so fair to see?\n There\u2019s a lady in it, Ellen,\n Will sunder you and me.\u2019--\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018I do see the castle, Childe Waters:\n Of red gold shines the gate.\n God give you good then of yourself,\n And of your worldly mate!\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018I wish no ill to your lady;\n She ne\u2019er wish\u2019d none to me;\n But I wish the maid most of your love\n Dries[334] this and more for thee.\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018I wish no ill to your lady;\n She ne\u2019er comes in my thought;\n But I wish the maid most of your love\n That dearest has you bought.\u2019--\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018But my hounds shall eat of the bread of wheat,\n And you of the bread of bran;\n And you shall curse the heavy hour\n That ever your love began.\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018But my horse shall drink of the good red wine,\n And you of the water wan;\n And you will sigh and say \u201cAlas,\n That ever I loved a man!\u201d\u2019--\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018O, I will drink of the wan water,\n And eat of the bread of bran;\n And aye will I bless the happy hour\n That ever I loved a man.\u2019\n\n XXIX\n\n O four-and-twenty gay ladies\n Were playing at the ball,\n But Ellen, the fairest lady,\n Must bring his steed to stall.\n\n XXX\n\n And four-and-twenty gay ladies\n Were playing at the chess,\n But Ellen, the fairest lady,\n Must bring his horse to grass.\n\n XXXI\n\n When bells were rung, and mass was sung,\n And a\u2019 men bound to meat,\n Burd Ellen was at the bye-table\n Among the foot-men set.\n\n XXXII\n\n \u2018O eat and drink, my bonny boy,\n The white bread and the beer.\u2019--\n \u2018The never a bit can I eat or drink,\n My heart\u2019s so full of fear.\u2019--\n\n XXXIII\n\n \u2018O eat and drink, my bonny boy,\n The white bread and the wine.\u2019--\n \u2018O I cannot eat nor drink, master,\n My heart\u2019s so full of pine[335].\u2019\n\n XXXIV\n\n But out and spake Childe Waters\u2019 mother,\n And a skilly[336] dame was she:\n \u2018Where met ye with that little foot-page\n That looks so sad on thee?\n\n XXXV\n\n \u2018Sometimes his cheek is rosy red,\n And sometimes deadly wan;\n He\u2019s liker a woman big with bairn\n Than a young lord\u2019s serving-man.\u2019\n\n XXXVI\n\n And then bespake Childe Waters\u2019 sister,\n And these were the words said she:\n \u2018You have the prettiest foot-page, brother,\n Let him go into chamber with me.\u2019--\n\n XXXVII\n\n \u2018It is more meet for a little foot-page,\n That has run through moss and mire,\n To take his supper upon his knee,\n And sit by the kitchen fire,\n Than to go into chamber with any lady\n That wears so rich attire.\n\n XXXVIII\n\n \u2018Rise up, rise up, my bonny boy;\n Give my horse corn and hay.\u2019--\n \u2018O that I will, my master dear,\n As quickly as I may.\u2019\n\n XXXIX\n\n She\u2019s ta\u2019en the hay under her arm,\n The corn into her hand,\n And she\u2019s gone to the great stable\n As fast as e\u2019er she can.\n\n XL\n\n \u2018O room ye round, my bonny brown steeds!\n O room ye near the wall!\n For this pain that strikes me through my sides\n Full soon will gar me fall.\u2019\n\n XLI\n\n She\u2019s lean\u2019d her back against the wall,\n Strong travail seized her on;\n And even among the great horse\u2019 feet\n Burd Ellen brought forth her son.\n\n XLII\n\n And that beheard Childe Waters\u2019 mother,\n Sat in her bower alone.\n \u2018Rise up, rise up, Childe Waters,\u2019 she said,\n \u2018Seek neither hose nor shoon!\u2019\n\n XLIII\n\n She said, \u2018Rise up, thou Childe Waters,\n I think thou\u2019rt a curs\u00e8d man;\n For yonder\u2019s a ghost in thy stable\n That grievously doth groan,\n Or else some woman labours of child,\n She is so woe-begone.\u2019\n\n XLIV\n\n But up then rose Childe Waters,\n Stay\u2019d neither for hose nor shoon,\n And he\u2019s doen him to the stable-door\n Wi\u2019 the clear light of the moon.\n\n XLV\n\n And when he came to the stable-door,\n Full still there he did stand,\n That he might hear Burd Ellen,\n How she made her monand[337].\n\n XLVI\n\n She said, \u2018Lullaby\u00e8, my own dear child!\n L\u00f9llabye, dear child dear!\n I would thy father were a king,\n Thy mother laid on a bier!\u2019--\n\n XLVII\n\n \u2018O open the door, Burd Ellen!\n O open and let me in!\n I want to see if my steed be fed,\n Or my greyhounds fit to rin.\u2019--\n\n XLVIII\n\n \u2018How can I open, how shall I open,\n How can I open to thee,\n When lying amang your great steeds\u2019 feet,\n Your young son on my knee?\u2019\n\n XLIX\n\n He strack the door hard wi\u2019 his foot,\n And push\u2019d it wi\u2019 his knee;\n And iron locks and iron bars\n Into the floor flung he.\n \u2018Be not afraid, Burd Ellen,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018There\u2019s none comes in but me.\u2019\n\n L\n\n \u2018An asking, an asking, Childe Waters,\n An asking I beg of thee:\n May the meanest maid about your house\n Bring a glass o\u2019 water to me!\u2019\n\n LI\n\n Up he has ta\u2019en his bonny young son,\n Gar\u2019d wash him wi\u2019 the milk;\n And up he has taken his fair lady,\n Gar\u2019d row[338] her in the silk.\n\n LII\n\n \u2018Peace now,\u2019 he said, \u2018Burd Ellen,\n And be of good cheer, I pray;\n Your bridal and your churching both\n Shall be upon one day.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[333] yeard-fast = fast in earth.\n\n[334] Dries = endures.\n\n[335] pine = pain.\n\n[336] skilly = wise, knowledgeable.\n\n[337] monand = moaning.\n\n[338] row = wrap.\n\n\n\n\n_47. Childe Maurice_\n\n\n I\n\n Childe Maurice hunted the Silver Wood,\n He whistled and he sang:\n \u2018I think I see the woman yonder\n That I have lov\u00e8d lang.\u2019\n\n II\n\n He call\u00e8d to his little man John,\n \u2018You don\u2019t see what I see;\n For yonder I see the very first woman\n That ever lov\u00e8d me.\u2019\n\n III\n\n He says, \u2018Come hither, my little man John,\n That I pay meat and fee,\n For thou shalt go to John Steward\u2019s wife\n And greet her well from me;\n\n IV\n\n \u2018And as it falls as many times\n As knots be knit in a kell[339],\n Or merchantmen go to leeve[340] Lond\u00f2n\n To buy ware or to sell;\n\n V\n\n \u2018And as it falls as many times\n As any heart can think,\n Or school-masters are in any school\n Writing with pen and ink.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Here is a glove, a glove,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018Lined wi\u2019 the silver-gris[341];\n Bid her to come to Silver Wood\n To speak with Childe Maurice.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018And here is a ring, a ring,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018A ring of the precious stone:\n He prays her come to Silver Wood\n And ask the leave of none.\u2019--\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Well do I love your errand, master,\n But better I love my life.\n Would ye have me go to John Steward\u2019s castle,\n To tryst away his wife?\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Do not I give you meat?\u2019 he says,\n \u2018Do not I give you fee?\n How daur you stop my errand\n When that I bid you flee?\u2019\n\n X\n\n This little man John one while he yode[342],\n Another while he ran;\n Until he came to John Steward\u2019s castle\n I wis he never blan[343].\n\n XI\n\n He ask\u2019d no porter\u2019s leave, but ran\n Up hall and bower free,\n And when he came to John Steward\u2019s wife,\n Says, \u2018God you save and see!\n\n XII\n\n \u2018I come, I am come from Childe Maurice--\n A message unto thee!\n And Childe Maurice he greets you well,\n And ever so well from me,\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018And as it falls as oftentimes\n As knots be knit in a kell,\n Or merchantmen go to leeve Lond\u00f2n\n To buy ware or to sell;\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018And as oftentimes he greets you well\n As any heart can think,\n Or schoolmasters are in any school\n Writing with pen and ink.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Here is a glove, a glove,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018Lined wi\u2019 the silver-gris;\n Ye\u2019re bidden to come to Silver Wood\n To speak with Childe Maurice.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018And here is a ring, a ring of gold,\n Set wi\u2019 the precious stone:\n He prays you to come to Silver Wood\n And ask the leave of none.\u2019--\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018Now peace, now peace, thou little man John,\n For Christ\u2019s sake I pray thee!\n For gif my lord heard one o\u2019 thy words\n Thou must be hang\u00e8d hie!\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n O aye she stamp\u00e8d with her foot\n And wink\u00e8d with her e\u2019e;\n But for all that she could say or do\n Forbidden he would not be.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018It\u2019s surely to my bower-woman,\n It cannot be to me!\u2019--\n \u2018Nay, I brought it to John Steward\u2019s lady,\n And I trow that thou art she.\u2019\n\n XX\n\n Out then spake the wily nurse,\n Wi\u2019 the bairn just on her knee:\n \u2018If this be come from Childe Maurice\n It\u2019s dear welcome to me.\u2019--\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018Thou liest, thou liest, thou wily nurse,\n So loud as I hear thee lie!\n I brought it to John Steward\u2019s lady,\n And I trow thou be not she.\u2019\n\n XXII\n\n Then up and rose him John Steward,\n And an angry man was he:\n \u2018Did I think there was a lord in the world\n My lady loved but me!\u2019\n\n XXIII\n\n He struck the table wi\u2019 his foot,\n And kepp\u2019d[344] it with his knee,\n Till silver cup and ezar[345] dish\n In flinders they did flee.\n\n XXIV\n\n He call\u2019d unto his horse-keeper,\n \u2018Make ready you my steed!\u2019\n So did he to his chamberlain,\n \u2018Go fetch my lady\u2019s weed[346]!\u2019\n\n XXV\n\n O he dress\u2019d himself in the holland smock,\n [The mantle and the snood],\n And he cast a lease[347] upon his back,\n And he rode to Silver Wood.\n\n XXVI\n\n And when he came to Silver Wood,\n No body saw he there\n But Childe Maurice upon a block\n Combing his yellow hair.\n\n XXVII\n\n Childe Maurice sat in Silver Wood,\n He whistled and he sang:\n \u2018I think I see the woman come\n That I have lov\u00e8d lang.\u2019\n\n XXVIII\n\n But then stood up him Childe Maurice\n His mother to help from horse:\n \u2018O alas, alas!\u2019 says Childe Maurice,\n \u2018My mother was ne\u2019er so gross!\u2019\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018No wonder, no wonder,\u2019 John Steward he said,\n \u2018My lady loved thee well,\n For the fairest part of my body\n Is blacker than thy heel.\u2019\n\n XXX\n\n John Steward had a little brown sword\n That hung low down by his knee;\n He has cut the head off Childe Maurice\n And the body put on a tree.\n\n XXXI\n\n And he prick\u2019d the head on his sword\u2019s point,\n Went singing there beside,\n And he rode till he came to the castle\n Whereas his lady ly\u2019ed[348].\n\n XXXII\n\n And when he came to his lady--\n Look\u2019d o\u2019er the castle-wall--\n He threw the head into her lap,\n Saying \u2018Lady, tak\u2019[349] the ball!\u2019\n\n XXXIII\n\n Says, \u2018Dost thou know Childe Maurice\u2019 head,\n If that thou dost it see?\n And lap it soft, and kiss it oft,\n For thou loved\u2019st him better than me.\u2019\n\n XXXIV\n\n But when she look\u2019d on Childe Maurice\u2019 head\n She ne\u2019er spake words but three:\n \u2018I never bare no child but one,\n And you have slain him, trulye.\u2019\n\n XXXV\n\n And she has taken the bloody head\n And kiss\u2019d it, cheek and chin:\n \u2018I was once as full o\u2019 Childe Maurice\n As the hip is o\u2019 the stane.\n\n XXXVI\n\n \u2018I got him in my mother\u2019s bower\n Wi\u2019 mickle sin and shame;\n I brought him up in the good greenwood\n Under the shower and rain.\u2019\n\n XXXVII\n\n And she has taken her Childe Maurice\n And kiss\u2019d him, mouth and chin:\n \u2018O better I love my Childe Maurice\n Than all my royal kin!\u2019\n\n XXXVIII\n\n \u2018Woe be to thee!\u2019 John Steward he said,\n And a woe, woe man was he;\n \u2018For if you had told me he was your son\n He had never been slain by me.\u2019\n\n XXXIX\n\n Says, \u2018Wicked be my merry men all,\n I gave meat, drink and cloth!\n But could they not have holden me\n When I was in all that wrath?\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[339] kell = hair-net, i. e. give her as many greetings as there are\nmeshes in a net.\n\n[340] leeve = lovely.\n\n[341] silver-gris = a fur of silver-grey.\n\n[342] yode = walked.\n\n[343] blan = stopped, stayed.\n\n[344] kepp\u2019d = caught.\n\n[345] ezar =? _for_ \u2018mazer,\u2019 maple.\n\n[346] weed = clothing.\n\n[347] lease = leash, thong.\n\n[348] ly\u2019ed = lived.\n\n[349] tak\u2019 = take, catch.\n\n\n\n\n_48. Brown Adam_\n\n\n I\n\n O wha would wish the wind to blau\n Or the green leaves fa\u2019 therewith?\n Or wha would wish a lealer love\n Than Brown Adam the Smith?\n\n II\n\n But they hae banish\u2019d Brown Adam,\n Frae father and frae mither;\n And they hae banish\u2019d Brown Adam,\n Frae sister and frae brither.\n\n III\n\n And they hae banish\u2019d Brown Adam\n Frae the flow\u2019r o\u2019 a\u2019 his kin;\n And he\u2019s biggit[350] a bow\u2019r i\u2019 the good green-wood\n Between his ladye and him.\n\n IV\n\n O it fell once upon a day\n Brown Adam he thought long,\n And he is to the green-wood\n As fast as he could gang.\n\n V\n\n He has ta\u2019en his bow his arm over,\n His sword intill his han\u2019,\n And he is to the good green-wood\n To hunt some venison.\n\n VI\n\n O he\u2019s shot up, and he\u2019s shot down\n The bunting on the breer[351];\n And he\u2019s sent it hame to his ladye,\n Bade her be of good cheer.\n\n VII\n\n O he\u2019s shot up, and he\u2019s shot down,\n The linnet on the thorn,\n And sent it hame to his ladye,\n Said he\u2019d be hame the morn.\n\n VIII\n\n When he cam\u2019 till his lady\u2019s bow\u2019r-door\n He stood a little forbye,\n And there he heard a fu\u2019 fause knight\n Tempting his gay ladye.\n\n IX\n\n O he\u2019s ta\u2019en out a gay gold ring\n Had cost him mony a poun\u2019;\n \u2018O grant me love for love, ladye,\n And this sall be your own.\u2019--\n\n X\n\n \u2018I lo\u2019e Brown Adam well,\u2019 she says,\n \u2018I wot sae does he me;\n I wadna gie Brown Adam\u2019s love\n For nae fause knight I see.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n Out he has ta\u2019en a purse of gold\n Was a\u2019 fu\u2019 to the string;\n \u2018O grant me love for love, ladye,\n And a\u2019 this sall be thine.\u2019--\n\n XII\n\n \u2018I lo\u2019e Brown Adam well,\u2019 she says,\n \u2018An\u2019 I ken sae does he me;\n An\u2019 I wadna be your light leman\n For mair nor ye could gie.\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n Then out he drew his lang, lang bran\u2019,\n And he\u2019s flash\u2019d it in her e\u2019en:\n \u2018Now grant me love for love, lady,\n Or thro\u2019 you this sall gang.\u2019--\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018O,\u2019 sighing said that gay ladye,\n \u2018Brown Adam tarries lang!\u2019--\n Then up and starts him Brown Adam,\n Says, \u2018I\u2019m just to your hand.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n He\u2019s gar\u2019d him leave his bow, his bow,\n He\u2019s gar\u2019d him leave his brand;\n He\u2019s gar\u2019d him leave a better pledge--\n Four fingers o\u2019 his right hand.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[350] biggit = built.\n\n[351] breer = briar.\n\n\n\n\n_49. Jellon Grame_\n\n\n I\n\n O Jellon Grame sat in Silverwood,\n He sharp\u2019d his broadsword lang;\n And he has call\u2019d his little foot-page\n An errand for to gang.\n\n II\n\n \u2018Win up, my bonny boy,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018As quickly as ye may;\n For ye maun gang for Lillie Flower\n Before the break of day.\u2019--\n\n III\n\n The boy has buckled his belt about,\n And through the green-wood ran;\n And he came to the ladye\u2019s bower\n Before the day did dawn.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018O sleep ye, wake ye, Lillie Flower?\n The red sun\u2019s on the rain;\n Ye\u2019re bidden come to Silverwood,\n But I doubt ye\u2019ll never win hame.\u2019\n\n V\n\n She hadna ridden a mile, a mile,\n A mile but barely three,\n Ere she came to a new-made grave\n Beneath a green aik tree.\n\n VI\n\n O then up started Jellon Grame\n Out of a bush thereby;\n \u2018Light down, light down, now, Lillie Flower,\n For it\u2019s here that ye maun lye.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n She lighted aff her milk-white steed,\n And kneel\u2019d upon her knee;\n \u2018O mercy, mercy, Jellon Grame,\n For I\u2019m no prepared to die!\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Your bairn, that stirs between my sides,\n Maun shortly see the light;\n But to see it weltering in my blood\n Would be a piteous sight.\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018O should I spare your life,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018Until that bairn were born,\n Full weel I ken your auld father\n Would hang me on the morn.\u2019--\n\n X\n\n \u2018O spare my life now, Jellon Grame!\n My father ye needna dread!\n I\u2019ll keep my babe in gude green-wood,\n Or wi\u2019 it I\u2019ll beg my bread.\u2019--\n\n XI\n\n He took nae pity on Lillie Flower,\n Though she for life did pray;\n But pierced her through the fair body\n As at his feet she lay.\n\n XII\n\n He felt nae pity for Lillie Flower,\n Where she was lying dead;\n But he felt some for the bonny bairn\n That lay weltering in her bluid.\n\n XIII\n\n Up has he ta\u2019en that bonny boy,\n Given him to nurses nine;\n Three to sleep, and three to wake,\n And three to go between.\n\n XIV\n\n And he bred up that bonny boy,\n Call\u2019d him his sister\u2019s son;\n And he thought nae eye could ever see\n The deed that had been done.\n\n XV\n\n O so it fell upon a day,\n When hunting they might be,\n They rested them in Silverwood,\n Beneath that green aik tree.\n\n XVI\n\n And many were the green-wood flowers\n Upon that grave that grew,\n And marvell\u2019d much that bonny boy\n To see their lovely hue.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018What\u2019s paler than the primrose wan?\n What\u2019s redder than the rose?\n What\u2019s fairer than the lilye flower\n On this wee know[352] that grows?\u2019--\n\n XVIII\n\n O out and answer\u2019d Jellon Grame,\n And he spak hastilie:\n \u2018Your mother was a fairer flower,\n And lies beneath this tree.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018More pale she was, when she sought my grace,\n Than primrose pale and wan;\n And redder than rose her ruddy heart\u2019s blood,\n That down my broadsword ran.\u2019--\n\n XX\n\n Wi\u2019 that the boy has bent his bow,\n It was baith stout and lang;\n And thro\u2019 and thro\u2019 him, Jellon Grame,\n He gar\u2019d an arrow gang.\n\n XXI\n\n Says,--\u2018Lie ye there, now, Jellon Grame!\n My malisoun gang you wi\u2019!\n The place that my mother lies buried in\n Is far too good for thee.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[352] wee know = little hillock.\n\n\n\n\n_50. Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard_\n\n\n _O wow for day!\n And, dear, gin it were day!\n Gin it were day, and I were away--\n For I ha\u2019 na lang time to stay._\n\n I\n\n As it fell on one holy-day,\n As many be in the year,\n When young men and maids together did go\n Their matins and mass to hear,\n\n II\n\n Little Musgrave came to the church-door--\n The priest was at private mass--\n But he had more mind of the fair women\n Than he had of Our Lady\u2019s grace.\n\n III\n\n The one of them was clad in green,\n Another was clad in pall[353],\n And then came in my Lord Barnard\u2019s wife,\n The fairest amongst them all.\n\n IV\n\n She cast an eye on Little Musgrave\n As bright as the summer sun;\n And then bethought him Little Musgrave,\n \u2018This lady\u2019s heart have I won.\u2019\n\n V\n\n Quoth she, \u2018I have loved thee, Little Musgrave,\n Full long and many a day.\u2019--\n \u2018So have I loved you, fair ladye,\n Yet never word durst I say.\u2019--\n\n VI\n\n \u2018But I have a bower at Bucklesfordberry,\n Full daintily it is dight;\n If thou\u2019lt wend thither, thou Little Musgrave,\n Thou\u2019s lig[354] in my arms all night.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n Quoth he, \u2018I thank thee, fair ladye,\n This kindness thou showest to me;\n And whether it be to my weal or woe\n This night I will lodge with thee.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n With that beheard a little tiny page,\n By his lady\u2019s coach as he ran.\n Says, \u2018Although I am my lady\u2019s foot-page,\n Yet I am Lord Barnard\u2019s man.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n Then he\u2019s cast off his hose and shoon,\n Set down his feet and ran,\n And where the bridges were broken down\n He bent his bow and swam.\n\n X\n\n \u2018Awake! awake! thou Lord Barnard,\n As thou art a man of life!\n Little Musgrave is at Bucklesfordberry\n Along with thy own wedded wife.\u2019--\n\n XI\n\n \u2018If this be true, thou little tiny page,\n This thing thou tellest to me,\n Then all the land in Bucklesfordberry\n I freely will give to thee.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018But if it be a lie, thou little tiny page,\n This thing thou tellest to me,\n On the highest tree in Bucklesfordberry\n Then hang\u00e8d shall thou be.\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n He call\u00e8d up his merry men all:\n \u2018Come saddle me my steed;\n This night must I to Bucklesfordberry,\n For I never had greater need.\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n But some they whistled, and some they sung,\n And some they thus could say,\n Whenever Lord Barnard\u2019s horn it blew:\n _\u2018Away, Musgrave, away!..._\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Methinks I hear the threstle cock,\n Methinks I hear the jay;\n Methinks I hear Lord Barnard\u2019s horn,\n _Away, Musgrave, away!_\u2019--\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018Lie still, lie still, thou little Musgrave,\n And huggle me from the cold;\n \u2019Tis nothing but a shepherd\u2019s boy\n A-driving his sheep to the fold.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n By this, Lord Barnard came to his door\n And lighted a stone upon;\n And he\u2019s pull\u2019d out three silver keys,\n And open\u2019d the doors each one.\n\n XVIII\n\n He lifted up the coverlet,\n He lifted up the sheet:\n \u2018Dost thou like my bed, Little Musgrave?\n Dost thou find my lady sweet?\u2019--\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018I find her sweet,\u2019 quoth Little Musgrave,\n \u2018The more \u2019tis to my pain;\n I would gladly give three hundred pounds\n That I were on yonder plain.\u2019--\n\n XX\n\n \u2018Arise, arise, thou Little Musgrave,\n And put thy cloth\u00e8s on;\n It shall ne\u2019er be said in my country\n I have kill\u2019d a naked man.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018I have two swords in one scabbard,\n They are both sharp and clear;\n Take you the best, and I the worst,\n We\u2019ll end the matter here.\u2019\n\n XXII\n\n The first stroke Little Musgrave struck,\n He hurt Lord Barnard sore;\n The next stroke that Lord Barnard struck,\n Little Musgrave ne\u2019er struck more.\n\n XXIII\n\n With that bespake this fair lady,\n In bed where as she lay:\n \u2018Although thou\u2019rt dead, thou Little Musgrave,\n Yet I for thee will pray.\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018And wish well to thy soul will I\n So long as I have life;\n So will I not for thee, Barnard,\n Although I\u2019m thy wedded wife.\u2019\n\n XXV\n\n He cut her paps from off her breast;\n Great pity it was to see\n That some drops of this lady\u2019s heart\u2019s blood\n Ran trickling down her knee.\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018Woe worth you, woe worth, my merry men all,\n You were ne\u2019er born for my good!\n Why did you not offer to stay my hand\n When you saw me wax so wood[355]?\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018For I have slain the fairest lady\n That ever wore woman\u2019s weed,\n Soe I have slain the fairest lady\n That ever did woman\u2019s deed.\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018A grave, a grave,\u2019 Lord Barnard cried,\n \u2018To put these lovers in!\n But lay my lady on the upper hand,\n For she comes of the nobler kin.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[353] pall = fine cloth.\n\n[354] lig = lie.\n\n[355] wood = mad, fierce.\n\n\n\n\n_51. Lord Ingram and Childe Vyet_\n\n\n I\n\n Lord Ingram and Childe Vyet\n Were both born in one hall;\n Laid both their hearts on one lady;\n The worse did them befall.\n\n II\n\n Lord Ingram woo\u2019d Lady Maisry\n From father and from mother;\n Lord Ingram woo\u2019d Lady Maisry\n From sister and from brother;\n\n III\n\n Lord Ingram woo\u2019d Lady Maisry\n With leave of all her kin;\n And every one gave full consent,\n But she said \u2018no\u2019 to him.\n\n IV\n\n Now it fell out, upon a day\n She was dressing of her head,\n That in did come her father dear,\n Wearing the gold so red.\n\n V\n\n \u2018Get up now, Lady Maisry,\n Put on your wedding-gown;\n For Lord Ingram he will be here,\n Your wedding must be done.\u2019--\n\n VI\n\n \u2018I\u2019d rather be Childe Vyet\u2019s wife,\n The white fish for to sell,\n Before I were Lord Ingram\u2019s wife,\n To wear the silk so well.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018I\u2019d rather be Childe Vyet\u2019s wife,\n With him to beg my bread,\n Before I were Lord Ingram\u2019s wife,\n To wear the gold so red....\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018O where will I get a bonny boy,\n Will win gold to his fee,\n And will run unto Childe Vyet\n With this letter from me?\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018O here I am, the boy,\u2019 says one,\n \u2018Will win gold to my fee,\n And carry away any letter\n To Childe Vyet from thee.\u2019\n\n X\n\n The first line that Childe Vyet read,\n A griev\u00e8d man was he;\n The next line that Childe Vyet read,\n A tear blinded his e\u2019e.\n \u2018I wonder what ails my one brother,\n He\u2019ll not let my love be!\n\n XI\n\n \u2018But I\u2019ll send to my brother\u2019s bridal--\n The gammons o\u2019 the swine--\n With four and twenty buck and roe,\n And ten tun of the wine;\n And bid my love be blithe and glad,\n And I will follow syne.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n There was no groom in that castle\n But got a gown of green;\n And all was blithe, and all was glad,\n But Lady Maisry was neen[356].\n\n XIII\n\n There was no cook in that kitchen\n But got a gown of grey;\n And all was blithe, and all was glad,\n But Lady Maisry was wae.\n\n XIV\n\n O sweetly play\u2019d the merry organs\n Within her mother\u2019s bower;\n But dumb stood Lady Maisry,\n And let the tears down pour.\n\n XV\n\n O sweetly play\u2019d the harp so fine\n Within her father\u2019s hall;\n But still stood Lady Maisry,\n And let the tears down fall.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2019Tween Mary Kirk and the castle\n Was all spread o\u2019er with garl[357],\n To keep Lady Maisry and her maidens\n From tramping on the marl.\n\n XVII\n\n From Mary Kirk to the castle\n Was spread a cloth of gold,\n To keep Lady Maisry and her maidens\n From treading upon the mould.\n\n XVIII\n\n When mass was sung, and bells were rung,\n And all men bound for bed,\n Lord Ingram and Lady Maisry\n In one bed they were laid.\n\n XIX\n\n When they were laid into one bed,\n It was both soft and warm;\n He laid his hand over her side,\n Says, \u2018I think you are with bairn.\u2019--\n\n XX\n\n \u2018I told you once, so did I twice,\n When ye came for my wooer,\n That Childe Vyet, your one brother,\n One night lay in my bower.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018I told you twice, I told you thrice,\n Ere ye came me to wed,\n That Childe Vyet, your one brother,\n One night lay in my bed.\u2019--\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018O father your bairn on me, Maisry,\n And on no other man;\n And I\u2019ll gie him to his dowry\n Full fifty ploughs of land.\u2019--\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018I will not father my bairn on you,\n Nor on no wrongeous man,\n Though ye\u2019d give him to his dowry\n Five thousand ploughs of land.\u2019\n\n XXIV\n\n He has taken out his trusty sword\n And laid it between them tway;\n Says, \u2018Lie you there, you ill woman,\n A maid for me till day.\u2019\n\n XXV\n\n Then in it came him Childe Vyet,\n Shed back his yellow hair,\n And gave Lord Ingram to the heart\n A deep wound and a sair.\n\n XXVI\n\n Then up did start him Lord Ingram\n Shed back his coal-black hair,\n And gave Childe Vyet to the heart\n A deep wound and a sair.\n\n XXVII\n\n There was no pity for those two lords,\n In bower where they lay slain;\n But all was for Lady Maisry,\n In bower where she went brain[358].\n\n XXVIII\n\n Says, \u2018If I have been an ill woman,\n Alas, and woe is me!\n And if I have been an ill woman,\n A good woman I\u2019ll be.\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018Ye\u2019ll take from me my silk attire,\n Bring me a palmer\u2019s weed;\n And for their sakes the world thoro\u2019\n I\u2019ll gang and beg my bread.\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018If I gang a step for Childe Vyet,\n For Lord Ingram I\u2019ll gang three;\n All for the honour that he paid\n At Mary Kirk to me.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[356] neen = none, not.\n\n[357] garl =? gravel.\n\n[358] brain = mad.\n\n\n\n\n_52. Fair Janet_\n\n\n I\n\n \u2018Ye maun gang to your father, Janet,\n Ye maun gang to him sune;\n Ye maun gang to your father, Janet,\n In case that his days are dune.\u2019\n\n II\n\n Janet\u2019s awa\u2019 to her father\n As fast as she could hie:\n \u2018O what\u2019s your will wi\u2019 me, father?\n O what\u2019s your will wi\u2019 me?\u2019--\n\n III\n\n \u2018My will wi\u2019 you, Fair Janet,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018It is both bed and board;\n Some say that ye love Sweet Willie,\n But ye maun wed a French lord.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n Janet\u2019s awa to her chamber\n As fast as she could go;\n Wha\u2019s the first ane that tapp\u00e8d there,\n But Sweet Willie her jo[359]?\n\n V\n\n \u2018O we maun part this love, Willie,\n That has been lang between;\n There\u2019s a French lord coming o\u2019er the sea\n To wed me wi\u2019 a ring.\u2019--\n\n VI\n\n \u2018If we maun part this love, Janet,\n It causeth mickle woe;\n If we maun part this love, Janet,\n It makes me in mourning go.\u2019--\n\n VII\n\n \u2018But ye maun gang to your three sisters,\n Meg, Marion and Jean;\n Tell them to come to Fair Janet,\n In case that her days are dune.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n Willie\u2019s awa\u2019 to his three sisters,\n Meg, Marion and Jean:\n \u2018O haste and gang to Fair Janet,\n I fear that her days are dune!\u2019\n\n IX\n\n Some drew to them their silken hose,\n Some drew to them their shoon,\n Some drew to them their silk manteils,\n Their coverings to put on;\n And they\u2019re awa\u2019 to Fair Janet\n By the hie light o\u2019 the moon....\n\n X\n\n \u2018O I have borne this babe, Willie,\n Wi\u2019 mickle toil and pain;\n Take hame, take hame your babe, Willie,\n For nurse I dare be nane.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n He\u2019s ta\u2019en his young son in his arms\n And kiss\u2019d him cheek and chin,\n And he\u2019s awa\u2019 to his mother\u2019s bower\n By the hie light o\u2019 the moon.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018O open, open, mother!\u2019 he says,\n \u2018O open, and let me in!\n The rain rains on my yellow hair\n And the dew drops o\u2019er my chin;\n And I hae my young son in my arms,--\n I fear that his days are dune.\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n Then with her fingers long and sma\u2019\n She lifted up the pin,\n And with her arms sae long and sma\u2019\n Received the baby in.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018Gae back, gae back now, Sweet Willie,\n And comfort your fair ladye;\n For where ye had but ae nourice\n Your young son shall hae three.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n Willie he was scarce awa\u2019\n And Janet put to bed,\n When in and came her father dear:\n \u2018Mak\u2019 haste, and busk[360] the bride!\u2019--\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018There\u2019s a sair pain in my head, father,\n There\u2019s a sair pain in my side;\n And ill, O ill I am, father,\n This day for to be a bride!\u2019--\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018O ye maun busk this bonny bride,\n And put a gay mantle on;\n For she shall wed this auld French lord,\n Gin she should die this morn.\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n Some put on the gay green robes,\n And some put on the brown;\n But Janet put on the scarlet robes,\n Shone foremost thro\u2019 the town.\n\n XIX\n\n And some they mounted the black steed,\n And some mounted the brown;\n But Janet mounted the milk-white steed,\n Rode foremost thro\u2019 the town.\n\n XX\n\n \u2018O wha will guide your horse, Janet?\n O wha will guide him best?\u2019--\n \u2018O wha but Willie, my true-love?\n He kens I love him best.\u2019\n\n XXI\n\n And when they came to Mary\u2019s kirk\n To tie the holy ban\u2019,\n Fair Janet\u2019s colour gaed and came,\n And her cheek look\u2019d pale and wan.\n\n XXII\n\n When dinner it was past and done,\n And dancing to begin,\n \u2018O we\u2019ll go take the bride\u2019s maidens,\n And we\u2019ll go fill the ring.\u2019\n\n XXIII\n\n O ben then came the auld French lord,\n Saying, \u2018Bride, will ye dance wi\u2019 me?\u2019--\n \u2018Awa\u2019, awa\u2019, ye auld French lord!\n Your face I downa see.\u2019\n\n XXIV\n\n O ben then came Sweet Willie,\n He came with ane advance:\n \u2018O I\u2019ll go tak\u2019 the bride\u2019s maidens,\n And we\u2019ll go tak\u2019 a dance.\u2019--\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018I\u2019ve seen ither days wi\u2019 you, Willie,\n And so has mony mae[361],\n Ye would hae danced wi\u2019 me mysel\u2019,\n Let a\u2019 my maidens gae.\u2019\n\n XXVI\n\n O ben now came Sweet Willie,\n Saying, \u2018Bride, will ye dance wi\u2019 me?\u2019--\n \u2018Ay, by my sooth, and that I will\n Gin my back should break in three.\u2019\n\n XXVII\n\n She hadna danced her o\u2019er the floor,\n She hadna turn\u2019d but thrice,\n When she fell doun at Willie\u2019s feet,\n And up did never rise.\n\n XXVIII\n\n Willie\u2019s ta\u2019en the key of his coffer\n And gi\u2019en it to his man:\n \u2018Gae hame, and tell my mother dear\n My horse he has me slain;\n And bid her be kind to my young son,\n For father he has nane.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[359] jo = sweetheart.\n\n[360] busk = array.\n\n[361] mae = more.\n\n\n\n\n_53. Old Robin of Portingale_\n\n\n I\n\n God! let never soe old a man\n Marry soe young a wife\n As did old Robin of Portingale!\n He may rue all the days of his life.\n\n II\n\n For the Mayor\u2019s daughter of Lin, God wot,\n He chose her to his wife,\n And thought to have lived in quietnesse\n With her all the dayes of his life.\n\n III\n\n They had not in their wed-bed laid,\n Scarcely were both on sleepe,\n But up she rose, and forth she goes\n To Sir Gyles, and fast can weepe.\n\n IV\n\n Saies, \u2018Sleepe you, wake you, faire Sir Gyles?\n Or be you not within?\n [Or hear you not your true love\n That tirleth at the pin?\u2019]--\n\n V\n\n \u2018But I am waking, sweete,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018Lady, what is your will?\u2019--\n I have unbethought[362] me of a wile\n How my wed lord we shall spill.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Four and twenty knights,\u2019 she sayes,\n \u2018That dwells about this towne,\n E\u2019en four and twenty of my next cozens\n Will help to ding[363] him downe.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n With that beheard his little foot-page,\n Was watering his master\u2019s steed;\n Soe [sore a hearing it was to him]\n His very heart did bleed.\n\n VIII\n\n He mourn\u00e8d, sikt[364], and wept full sore;\n I swear by the Holy Rood\n The teares he for his master wept\n Were blent water and bloude.\n\n IX\n\n With that beheard his dear mast\u00e8r\n As he in his garden sate;\n Sayes, \u2018Ever alack, my little page,\n What causes thee to weepe?\n\n X\n\n \u2018Hath any one done to thee wronge,\n Any of thy fellowes here?\n Or is any of thy good friends dead,\n What makes thee shed such teares?\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Or if it be my head-cookes-man\n Griev\u2019d againe[365] he shall be,\n Nor noe man within my house\n Shall doe wrong unto thee.\u2019--\n\n XII\n\n \u2018But it is not your head-cookes-man,\n Nor none of his degree;\n But or tomorrow, ere it be noone\n You are deem\u00e8d[366] to die.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018And of that thanke your head-steward,\n And, after, your ladie fair.\u2019--\n \u2018If it be true, my little foot-page,\n Of my land I\u2019ll make thee heir.\u2019--\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018If it be not true, my deare master,\n God let me never thye[367].\u2019--\n \u2018If it be not true, thou little foot-page,\n A dead corse shalt thou be.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n He call\u00e8d down his head-cookes-man\n In kitchen supper to dress;\n \u2018All and anon, my deere master!\n Anon at your request!\u2019--\n\n XVI\n\n [\u2018Let supper be drest, and of the best\n Let it prepar\u00e8d be]\n And call you downe my faire lady,\n This night to supp with mee.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n And downe then came that fair lady,\n \u2019Was clad all in purple and palle[368];\n The rings that were upon her fingers\n Cast light thorrow the hall.\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018What is your will, my owne wed lord,\n What is your will with mee?\u2019--\n \u2018\u2019Tis I am sicke, fayre lady,\n Sore sicke and like to dye.\u2019--\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018But an you be sicke, my owne wed lord,\n Soe sore it grieveth mee;\n But my five maidens and my selfe\n [Will bedd you presentlye].\n\n XX\n\n \u2018And at the waking of your first sleepe\n You shall have a hott drinke made,\n And at the waking of your next sleepe\n Your sorrowes will have a slake.\u2019\n\n XXI\n\n He put a silk cote on his backe\n \u2019Was thirteen inches folde,\n And put a steele cap upon his head\n \u2019Was gilded with good red gold.\n\n XXII\n\n And he layd a bright browne sword by his side,\n And another at his feete,\n And full well knew Old Robin then\n Whether he shold wake or sleepe.\n\n XXIII\n\n And about the middle time of the night\n Came twenty-four Knights in;\n Sir Gyles he was the foremost man,\n Soe well he knew that ginne[369].\n\n XXIV\n\n Old Robin with a bright browne sword\n Sir Gyles\u2019 head he did winne,\n Soe did he all those twenty-four,\n Ne\u2019er a one went quicke[370] out [agen];\n\n XXV\n\n None but one little foot-page\n Crept forth at a window of stone;\n And he had two armes when he came in\n And [when he went out he had one].\n\n XXVI\n\n Upp then came that ladie light,\n With torches burning bright;\n Shee thought to have brought Sir Gyles a drinke,\n But shee found her owne wed Knight.\n\n XXVII\n\n And the first thing that shee stumbled upon\n Was of Sir Gyles his foote;\n Sayes, \u2018Ever alacke, and woe is me,\n Here lies my sweet hart-roote[371]!\u2019\n\n XXVIII\n\n And the second thing shee stumbled upon\n Was of Sir Gyles his head;\n Sayes, \u2018Ever alacke, and woe is me,\n Here lyes my true-love deade!\u2019\n\n XXIX\n\n He cut the papps beside her brest,\n And bade her wish her will;\n And he cutt the eares beside her heade,\n And bade her wish on still.\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018Mickle is the men\u2019s blood I have spent\n To doe thee and me some good\u2019;\n Sayes, \u2018Ever alacke, my fayre lady,\n I thinke that I was woode[372]!\u2019\n\n XXXI\n\n And he shope[373] the cross on his right sho\u2019lder\n Of the white flesh and the redd,\n And he went him into the Holy Land,\n Wheras Christ was quicke and deade.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[362] unbethought = bethought.\n\n[363] ding = smite.\n\n[364] sikt = sighed.\n\n[365] againe = in return.\n\n[366] deem\u00e8d = doomed.\n\n[367] thye = thrive.\n\n[368] palle = fine cloth.\n\n[369] ginne = gin, contrivance, here a door-latch.\n\n[370] quicke = alive.\n\n[371] hart-roote = heart-root, dear one.\n\n[372] woode = mad.\n\n[373] shope = shaped, made.\n\n\n\n\n_54. Lord Thomas and Fair Annet_\n\n\n I\n\n Lord Thomas and Fair Annet\n Sat all day on a hill;\n When night was come, and sun was set,\n They had not talk\u2019d their fill.\n\n II\n\n Lord Thomas said a word in jest,\n Fair Annet took it ill:\n \u2018I\u2019ll never wed a tocherless[374] maid\n Against my ain friends\u2019 will.\u2019--\n\n III\n\n \u2018Gif ye\u2019ll not wed a tocherless wife,\n A wife will ne\u2019er wed ye:\n Fare ye well now, Lord Thomas,\n It\u2019s fare ye well a wee.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n O Annet she\u2019s gane till her bower,\n Lord Thomas down the den;\n And he\u2019s come till his mither\u2019s bower\n By the lee[375] light o\u2019 the moon.\n\n V\n\n \u2018O sleep ye, wake ye, mither?\u2019 he says,\n \u2018Or are ye the bower within?\u2019--\n \u2018I sleep right aft, I wake right aft;\n What want ye with me, son?\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Where have ye been a\u2019 night, Thomas?\n O wow, ye\u2019ve tarried long!\u2019--\n \u2018I have been courtin\u2019 Fair Annet,\n And she is frae me gone.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018O rede[376], O rede, mither,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018A gude rede gie to me:\n O sall I tak\u2019 the nut-brown bride,\n And let Fair Annet be?\u2019--\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018The nut-brown bride has gold and gear,\n Fair Annet she\u2019s got nane;\n And the little beauty Fair Annet has\n O it will soon be gane.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018It\u2019s an\u2019 ye wed the nut-brown bride,\n I\u2019ll heap gold wi\u2019 my hand;\n But an\u2019 ye wed her, Fair Annet,\n I\u2019ll straik[377] it wi\u2019 a wand.\n\n X\n\n \u2018The nut-brown bride has sheep and kye,\n Fair Annet she\u2019s got nane;\n Son Thomas, for my benison\n Bring ye the brown bride hame.\u2019--\n\n XI\n\n \u2018But alas, alas!\u2019 says Lord Thomas,\n \u2018O fair is Annet\u2019s face!\u2019--\n \u2018But what matter for that, son Thomas?\n She has nae ither grace.\u2019--\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Alas, alas!\u2019 says Lord Thomas,\n \u2018But white is Annet\u2019s hand!\u2019--\n \u2018What matter for that, son Thomas?\n She has not a fur\u2019[378] o\u2019 land.\u2019--\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018Sheep will die in cots, mither,\n And owsen[379] die in byre;\n And what is warldis wealth to me,\n An\u2019 I getna my heart\u2019s desire?\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n And he has till his sister gane:\n \u2018Now, sister, rede ye me;\n O sall I marry the nut-brown bride\n And set Fair Annet free?\u2019--\n\n XV\n\n \u2018I\u2019se rede ye tak\u2019 Fair Annet, Thomas,\n And let the brown bride alane,\n Lest ye should sigh and say Alas!\n What is this we brought hame?\u2019--\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018No, I will tak\u2019 my mither\u2019s counsel,\n And marry me out of hand;\n And I will tak\u2019 the nut-brown bride;\n Fair Annet may leave the land.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n Up then rose Fair Annet\u2019s father\n Twa hours or it were day,\n And he is gone to Fair Annet,\n To the bower wherein she lay.\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018Rise up, rise up, Fair Annet,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018Put on your silken sheen;\n Ye are bidden come to St. Mary\u2019s Kirk,\n To see a rich weddin\u2019.\u2019...\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018My maids, gae to my dressing-room\n And dress to me my hair;\n Where\u2019er ye laid a plait before\n See ye lay ten times mair.\n\n XX\n\n \u2018My maids gae to my dressing-room\n And dress to me my smock,\n The one half is o\u2019 the holland fine,\n The other o\u2019 needle-work.\u2019\n\n XXI\n\n At yae[380] tett[381] o\u2019 her horse\u2019s mane\n Was tied a silver bell,\n And yae tift[382] o\u2019 the norland wind\n It gar\u2019d them a\u2019 to knell.\n\n XXII\n\n Four and twenty gay good knights\n Rade by Fair Annet\u2019s side,\n And four and twenty fair ladies\n As gin she had been a bride.\n\n XXIII\n\n And when she came to Mary\u2019s Kirk,\n She shimmer\u2019d like the sun;\n The belt that was about her waist\n Was a\u2019 wi\u2019 pearls bedone[383].\n\n XXIV\n\n And when she came to Mary\u2019s Kirk,\n And sat down in the deas[384],\n The cleiding[385] that Fair Annet had on\n Enlighten\u2019d a\u2019 that place.\n\n XXV\n\n She sat her by the nut-brown bride,\n And her e\u2019en they were sae clear,\n Lord Thomas he clean forgat the bride\n When Fair Annet drew near.\n\n XXVI\n\n He had a rose into his hand,\n He gave it kisses three,\n And reaching by the nut-brown bride,\n Laid it on Annet\u2019s knee.\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018O wha is this, my father dear,\n Blinks in Lord Thomas\u2019s e\u2019e?\u2019--\n \u2018O this Lord Thomas\u2019s first true-love\n Before he lov\u00e8d thee.\u2019\n\n XXVIII\n\n Up then spake the nut-brown bride--\n She spake wi\u2019 mickle spite:\n \u2018And where gat ye the rose-water\n That washes thy face so white?\u2019--\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018O I did get my rose-water\n Where ye will ne\u2019er get nane,\n For I did get that very rose-water\n Into my mither\u2019s wame[386].\u2019\n\n XXX\n\n The bride she drew a long bodkin\n Frae out her gay head-gear,\n And strake Fair Annet to the heart,\n That word spak\u2019 never mair.\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018O Christ thee save!\u2019 Lord Thomas he said,\n \u2018Methinks thou look\u2019st wondrous wan;\n Thou was used to look with as fresh a colour\n As ever the sun shined on.\u2019\n\n XXXII\n\n \u2018O art thou blind, Lord Thomas?\u2019 she said,\n \u2018Or canst thou not very well see?\n Or dost thou not see my own heart\u2019s blood\n Runs trickling down my knee?\u2019\n\n XXXIII\n\n Lord Thomas he saw Fair Annet was pale,\n And marvell\u00e8d what mote be;\n But when he saw her dear heart\u2019s blood,\n All wood-wroth[387] wax\u00e8d he.\n\n XXXIV\n\n He drew his dagger frae his side,\n That was so sharp and meet,\n And drave it into the nut-brown bride,\n That fell dead at his feet.\n\n XXXV\n\n \u2018Now stay for me, dear Annet,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018Now stay, my dear!\u2019 he cried;\n Then strake the dagger untill his heart,\n And fell dead by her side.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[374] tocherless = without a dowry.\n\n[375] lee = calm, pleasant.\n\n[376] rede = counsel.\n\n[377] straik = stroke, as one might smooth over the top of a bushel of\ncorn to make it bare measure.\n\n[378] fur\u2019 = furrow.\n\n[379] owsen = oxen.\n\n[380] yae = each.\n\n[381] tett = tuft.\n\n[382] tift = puff, whiff.\n\n[383] bedone = adorned.\n\n[384] deas = da\u00efs, pew.\n\n[385] cleiding = clothing.\n\n[386] wame = womb.\n\n[387] wood-wroth = mad with rage.\n\n\n\n\n_55. Rose the Red and White Lily_\n\n\n I\n\n O Rose the Red and White Lilly,\n Their mother dear was dead,\n And their father married an ill woman\n Wish\u2019d them twa little gude.\n\n II\n\n Yet she had twa as fu\u2019 fair sons\n As e\u2019er brake manis bread;\n And Bold Arthur he lo\u2019ed her White Lilly\n And Brown Robin Rose the Red.\n\n III\n\n O they hae biggit a bigly[388] tow\u2019r,\n And strawn it o\u2019er wi\u2019 sand;\n There was mair mirth i\u2019 these ladies\u2019 bow\u2019r\n Than in a\u2019 their father\u2019s land.\n\n IV\n\n But out and spake their step-mither,\n At the stair-foot stood she:\n \u2018I\u2019m plaguit wi\u2019 your troublesome noise!\n What makes[389] your melodie?\n\n V\n\n \u2018O Rose the Red, ye sing too loud,\n White Lilly, your voice is strang:\n But gin I live and bruik[390] my life,\n I\u2019ll gar ye change your sang.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n She\u2019s call\u2019d her son, Brown Robin,\n \u2018Come hither, my son, to me;\n It fears me sair, my eldest son,\n That ye maun sail the sea.\u2019--\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Gin it fear you sair, my mither dear,\n Your bidding I maun dee;\n But be never warse to Rose the Red\n Than ye ha\u2019 been to me.\u2019--\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018O haud your tongue, my eldest son,\n For sma\u2019 sall be her part;\n You\u2019ll ne\u2019er get kiss o\u2019 her comely mouth,\n Tho\u2019 you sh\u2019uld break your heart.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n She\u2019s call\u2019d her son, Bold Arthur:\n \u2018Come hither, my son, to me;\n It fears me sair, my youngest son,\n That ye maun sail the sea.\u2019--\n\n X\n\n \u2018Gin it fear you sair, my mither dear,\n Your bidding I maun dee;\n But be never warse to White Lilly\n Than ye ha\u2019 been to me.\u2019--\n\n XI\n\n \u2018O haud your tongue, my yongest son,\n For sma\u2019 sall be her part;\n You\u2019ll ne\u2019er get kiss o\u2019 White Lilly\u2019s mouth\n Tho\u2019 it break your very heart.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n When Rose the Red and White Lilly\n Saw their twa loves were gane,\n Then stoppit ha\u2019 they their loud, loud sang\n For and the still mournin\u2019:\n And their step-mither stood forbye,\n To hear the maiden\u2019s mane[391].\n\n XIII\n\n Then out it spake her White Lilly:\n \u2018My sister, we\u2019ll be gane;\n Why should we stay in Burn\u00e8sdale\n To waste our youth in pain?\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n Then cuttit ha\u2019 they their green clothing\n A little below their knee,\n And sae ha\u2019 they their yellow hair\n A little abune their bree[392];\n And they\u2019re do\u2019en them to haly chapel,\n Was christen\u2019d by Our Ladye.\n\n XV\n\n There ha\u2019 they changed their ain twa names,\n Sae far frae ony town;\n And the tane o\u2019 them hight[393] Sweet Willy,\n And the tither Roge the Roun[394].\n\n XVI\n\n Between this twa a vow was made,\n And they sware it to fulfil;\n That at three blasts o\u2019 a bugle-horn\n She\u2019d come her sister till.\n\n XVII\n\n Now Sweet Willy\u2019s gane to the Kingis court,\n Her true-love there to see,\n And Roge the Roun to good green-wood,\n Brown Robin\u2019s man to be.\n\n XVIII\n\n As it fell out upon a day\n They a\u2019 did put the stane,\n Fu\u2019 seven feet ayont them a\u2019\n She gar\u2019d the puttin\u2019-stane gang.\n\n XIX\n\n She lean\u2019d her back against an oak,\n And ga\u2019e a loud Ohone!\n Then out it spake him Brown Robin,\n \u2018But that\u2019s a woman\u2019s moan!\u2019\n\n XX\n\n \u2018O ken ye by my red rose lip?\n Or by my yallow hair?\n Or ken ye by my milk-white breast?\n For ye never saw it bare.\u2019\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018I ken no by your red rose lip,\n Nor by your yallow hair;\n Nor ken I by your milk-white breast,\n For I never saw it bare;\n But come to your bow\u2019r whaever sae likes\n Will find a lady there.\u2019\n\n XXII\n\n About the tenth hour of the night\n The lady\u2019s bow\u2019r-door was broken;\n And ere the first hour of the night\n The bonny knave-bairn[395] was gotten.\n\n XXIII\n\n When days were gane, and months were run,\n Rose the Red took travailing;\n And sair she cried for a bow\u2019r-woman,\n Her pine[396] to wait upon.\n\n XXIV\n\n Then out it spake him Brown Robin:\n \u2018Now what needs a\u2019 this din?\n For what cou\u2019d any woman do\n But I cou\u2019d do the same?\u2019--\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018It was never my mither\u2019s fashion,\n Nor sall it e\u2019er be mine,\n That belted Knights shou\u2019d e\u2019er stand by\n Where ladies dreed[397] their pine.\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018But tak\u2019 ye up my bugle-horn,\n And blaw three blasts for me;\n I\u2019ve a brither in the Kingis court\n Will come me quickly ti\u2019.\u2019--\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018O gin ye hae a brither on earth\n That ye love better nor me,\n Ye blaw the horn yoursel\u2019,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018For ae blast I\u2019ll not gie.\u2019\n\n XXVIII\n\n She set the horn untill her mouth,\n And blawn three blasts sae shrill;\n Sweet Willy heard i\u2019 the Kingis court,\n And came her quickly till....\n\n XXIX\n\n [Word is to the kitchen gane,\n And word is to the ha\u2019,\n Bold Arthur\u2019s lost his little foot-page,\n To the green-wood stown awa\u2019.]\n\n XXX\n\n And word has gane to the Kingis court,\n To the King himsel\u2019 [at dine]\n \u2018Now, by my fay,\u2019 the King can say,\n [\u2018Sweet Willy we maun find.\u2019]\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018Bring me my steed,\u2019 then cry\u2019d the King,\n \u2018My bow and arrows keen;\n I\u2019ll ride mysel\u2019 to good green-wood\n An\u2019 see what\u2019s to be seen.\u2019\n\n XXXII\n\n \u2018An\u2019t please your grace,\u2019 says Bold Arthur,\n \u2018My liege I\u2019ll gang you wi\u2019,\n An\u2019 try to find my little foot-page\n That\u2019s stray\u2019d awa\u2019 frae me.\u2019\n\n XXXIII\n\n O they have hunted in good green-wood\n The back but and the rae.\n And they\u2019ve drawn near Brown Robin\u2019s bow\u2019r\n About the close of day.\n\n XXXIV\n\n Then out it spak\u2019 the King in haste,\n Says, \u2018Arthur, look an\u2019 see\n Gin that be no your little foot-page\n That leans against yon tree?\u2019\n\n XXXV\n\n Bold Arthur took his bugle-horn,\n And blew a blast sae shrill,\n Sweet Willy started at the sound\n And ran him quickly till.\n\n XXXVI\n\n \u2018O wanted ye your meat, Willy?\n Or wanted ye your fee?\n Or get ye ever an angry word,\n That ye ran awa\u2019 frae me?\u2019--\n\n XXXVII\n\n \u2018I wanted nought, my master dear;\n To me ye aye was good;\n I came but to see my ae brither\n That wons[398] in this green-wood.\u2019\n\n XXXVIII\n\n Then out and spak\u2019 the King again,\n Says, \u2018Bonny boy, tell to me\n Who lives into yon bigly bow\u2019r,\n Stands by yon green oak-tree?\u2019\n\n XXXIX\n\n \u2018O pardon me,\u2019 says Sweet Willy,\n \u2018My liege, I daurna tell;\n And I pray you go no near that bow\u2019r,\n For fear they do you fell[399].\u2019--\n\n XL\n\n \u2018O haud your tongue, my bonny boy.\n For I winna be said nay;\n But I will gang that bow\u2019r within,\n Betide me weal or wae.\u2019\n\n XLI\n\n They\u2019ve lighted off their milk-white steeds,\n And saftly enter\u2019d in;\n And then they saw her, Rose the Red,\n Nursing her bonny young son.\n\n XLII\n\n \u2018Now, by the rood,\u2019 the King could say,\n \u2018This is a comely sight;\n I trow, instead of a forrester,\n This is a lady bright!\u2019\n\n XLIII\n\n Then out it spake White Lilly\n And fell down on her knee:\n \u2018O pardon us, my gracious liege,\n An\u2019 our story I\u2019ll tell to thee.\n\n XLIV\n\n \u2018Our father was a wealthy lord,\n That wonn\u2019d in Barn\u00e8sdale;\n But we had a wicked step-mother,\n That wrought us mickle bale[400].\n\n XLV\n\n \u2018Yet she had twa as fu\u2019 fair sons\n As ever the sun did see;\n An\u2019 the tane o\u2019 them lo\u2019ed my sister dear,\n An\u2019 the tother said he lo\u2019ed me.\u2019\n\n XLVI\n\n Then out and spak\u2019 him Bold Arthur,\n As by the King he stood,\n \u2018Now, this should be my White Lilly,\n An\u2019 that should be Rose the Red!\u2019\n\n XLVII\n\n Then in it came him Brown Robin\n Frae hunting o\u2019 the deer,\n But whan he saw the King was there,\n He started back for fear.\n\n XLVIII\n\n The King has ta\u2019en him by the hand\n And bade him naething dread;\n Says, \u2018Ye maun leave the good green-wood,\n Come to the court wi\u2019 speed.\u2019\n\n XLIX\n\n Then up he took Brown Robin\u2019s son,\n And set him on his knee;\n Says, \u2018Gin ye live to wield a bran\u2019,\n My bowman ye sall be.\u2019\n\n L\n\n The King he sent for robes o\u2019 green,\n And girdles o\u2019 shining gold;\n He gart the ladies be array\u2019d\n Most comely to behold.\n\n LI\n\n They\u2019ve doen them unto Mary Kirk,\n And there gat fair wedd\u00ecng,\n And whan the news spread o\u2019er the lan\u2019,\n For joy the bells did ring.\n\n LII\n\n Then out it spak\u2019 her Rose the Red,\n And a hearty laugh laugh\u2019d she;\n \u2018I wonder what would our step-dame say,\n Gin she this sight did see!\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[388] bigly = commodious, habitable.\n\n[389] makes = means.\n\n[390] bruik = brook enjoy.\n\n[391] mane = moan.\n\n[392] abune their bree = above their brows.\n\n[393] hight = was called.\n\n[394] Roun = roan, red.\n\n[395] knave-bairn = man-child.\n\n[396] pine = pain.\n\n[397] dreed = endured.\n\n[398] wons = dwells.\n\n[399] fell = kill.\n\n[400] bale = harm.\n\n\n\n\n_56. Leesome Brand_\n\n_or, The Sheath and the Knife_\n\n\n I\n\n \u2018There is a feast in your father\u2019s house,\n _The broom blooms bonnie and sae it is fair_--\n It becomes you and me to be very douce[401],\n _And we\u2019ll never gang down to the broom nae mair.\u2019_\n\n II\n\n But it is talk\u2019d all over [the land],\n \u2018Lady Marget\u2019s plighted to Leesome Brand.\u2019\n\n III\n\n He\u2019s done him to her father\u2019s stable\n And tane twa steeds baith wicht[402] and able:\n\n IV\n\n Ane for him, and another for her\n To carry them baith wi\u2019 might and virr[403].\n\n V\n\n When they had ridden about six mile,\n Lady Marget then began to fail.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018O gin I had but a gude midwife\n Here this day to save my life!\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Ye\u2019ll take your arrow and your bow\n And ye will hunt the deer and roe.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018But be sure ye touch not the milk-white hynde,\n For she is o\u2019 the woman-kind.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n He took sic pleasure in deer and rae\n Till he forgot his ladye gay.\n\n X\n\n Till by it came that milk-white hynde,\n And then he mind on his ladye syne.\n\n XI\n\n He heard her gie a loud, loud cry,\n He shot his bow, and he let her lie.\n\n XII\n\n When he saw she was lying still,\n He threw down his bow and came running her till[404];\n\n XIII\n\n But he found his ladye lying dead,\n Likewise her young son at her head.\n\n XIV\n\n He\u2019s houkit[405] a grave, long, large and wide,\n He\u2019s buried his auld[406] son doun by her side.\n\n XV\n\n It was nae wonder his heart was sair\n When he shool\u2019d[407] the mools[408] on her yellow hair.\n\n XVI\n\n His mother lay owre her castle wa\u2019;\n There was music and minstrels and dancing and a\u2019.\n\n XVII\n\n [She said as she look\u2019d owre] dale and down,\n \u2018My son comes merrilie to the toun.\u2019--\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018Seek nae minstrels to play in your room,\n Your son comes sorry to the toun.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018O I hae lost my gowden knife;\n I rather had lost my ain sweet life!\n\n XX\n\n \u2018And I hae lost a far better thing,\n The gilded sheath that it was in.\u2019--\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018Are there nae gowdsmiths here in Fife\n Can make to you anither knife?\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018Are there nae sheath-makers in the land\n Can make a sheath to Leesome Brand?\u2019--\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018There are nae gowdsmiths here in Fife\n Can make to me sic a gowden knife;\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018Nor nae sheath-makers in the land\n Can make to me sic a sheath again.\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018For I\u2019ve lost my lady I loved sae dear,\n _The broom blooms bonnie and sae it is fair_--\n Likewise the son she did me bear,\n _And we\u2019ll never gang doun to the broom nae mair._\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[401] douce = quiet.\n\n[402] wicht = sturdy.\n\n[403] virr = vigour.\n\n[404] her till = to her.\n\n[405] houkit = dug.\n\n[406] auld = eldest, first-born.\n\n[407] shool\u2019d = shovelled.\n\n[408] mools = mould.\n\n\n\n\n_57. Babylon_\n\n_or, The Bonnie Banks o\u2019 Fordie_\n\n\n I\n\n There where three ladies live in a bower--\n _Eh, wow, bonnie!_\n And they went out to pull a flower\n _On the bonnie banks o\u2019 Fordie._\n\n II\n\n They hadna pu\u2019ed a flower but ane,\n When up started to them a banisht man.\n\n III\n\n He\u2019s ta\u2019en the first sister by her hand,\n And he\u2019s turn\u2019d her round and made her stand.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018It\u2019s whether will ye be a rank robber\u2019s wife,\n Or will ye die by my wee pen-knife?\u2019\n\n V\n\n \u2018It\u2019s I\u2019ll not be a rank robber\u2019s wife,\n But I\u2019ll rather die by your wee pen-knife.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n He\u2019s killed this may, and he\u2019s laid her by,\n For to bear the red rose company.\n\n VII\n\n He\u2019s ta\u2019en the second ane by the hand,\n And he\u2019s turn\u2019d her round and made her stand.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018It\u2019s whether will ye be a rank robber\u2019s wife,\n Or will ye die by my wee pen-knife?\u2019\n\n IX\n\n \u2018It\u2019s I\u2019ll not be a rank robber\u2019s wife,\n But I\u2019ll rather die by your wee pen-knife.\u2019\n\n X\n\n He\u2019s killed this may, and he\u2019s laid her by,\n For to bear the red rose company.\n\n XI\n\n He\u2019s taken the youngest ane by the hand,\n And he\u2019s turn\u2019d her round and made her stand.\n\n XII\n\n Says, \u2018Will ye be a rank robber\u2019s wife,\n Or will ye die by my wee pen-knife?\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018It\u2019s I\u2019ll not be a rank robber\u2019s wife,\n Nor will I die by your wee pen-knife.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018For in this wood a brother I hae;\n And gin ye kill me, it\u2019s he\u2019ll kill thee.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n \u2018What\u2019s thy brother\u2019s name? come tell to me.\u2019\n \u2018My brother\u2019s name is Baby Lon.\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018O sister, sister, what have I done!\n O have I done this ill to thee!\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018O since I\u2019ve done this evil deed,\n Good sall never be my meed.\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n He\u2019s taken out his wee pen-knife,\n _Eh, wow, bonnie!_\n And he\u2019s twyn\u2019d[409] himsel\u2019 o\u2019 his ain sweet life\n _On the bonnie banks o\u2019 Fordie_.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[409] twyned = taken away, bereaved.\n\n\n\n\n_58. Prince Robert_\n\n\n I\n\n Prince 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\n II\n\n \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\n III\n\n She has call\u2019d upon her waiting-maid,\n To fill her a glass of wine;\n She has called upon her fause steward,\n To put rank poison in.\n\n IV\n\n She his put it to her roud\u00e8s[410] lip,\n And to her roud\u00e8s chin;\n She has put it to her fause, fause mouth,\n But the never a drop gaed in.\n\n V\n\n He 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\n VI\n\n \u2018O ye hae poison\u2019d 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\n VII\n\n \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?\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n Then 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\n IX\n\n O he has run to Darlinton,\n And tirl\u00e8d at the pin;\n And wha was sae ready as Eleanor\u2019s sel\u2019\n To let the bonny boy in?\n\n X\n\n \u2018Your gude-mother\u2019s made ye a rare dinour,\n She\u2019s made it baith gude and fine;\n Your gude-mother\u2019s made ye a gay dinour,\n And ye maun come till her and dine.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n It\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\u2019 linkin\u2019 in.\n\n XII\n\n But when she came to Sillertoun town,\n And into Sillertoun ha\u2019,\n The torches were burning, the ladies were mourning,\n And they were weeping a\u2019.\n\n XIII\n\n \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\n XIV\n\n \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\n XV\n\n \u2018Ye\u2019se get nane o\u2019 his gowd, ye\u2019se get nane o\u2019 his gear,\n Ye\u2019se get nae thing frae me;\n Ye\u2019se na get an inch o\u2019 his gude broad land,\n Tho\u2019 your heart suld burst in three.\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018I want nane o\u2019 his gowd, I want nane o\u2019 his gear,\n I want nae land frae thee;\n But I\u2019ll hae the rings that\u2019s on his finger,\n For them he did promise to me.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018Ye\u2019se na get the rings that\u2019s on his finger,\n Ye\u2019se na get them frae me;\n Ye\u2019se na get the rings that\u2019s on his finger,\n An\u2019 your heart suld burst in three.\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n She\u2019s turn\u2019d her back unto the wa\u2019,\n And her face unto a rock,\n And there, before the mother\u2019s face,\n Her very heart it broke.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[410] roud\u00e8s = hag-like.\n\n\n\n\n_59. Young Andrew_\n\n\n I\n\n As I was cast in my first sleepe,\n A dreadfull draught[411] in my mind I drew,\n For I was dream\u00e8d of a young man,\n Some men call\u00e8d him Yonge Andrew.\n\n II\n\n The moone shone bright, and it cast a fayre light:\n \u2018Welcome,\u2019 says she, \u2018my honey, my sweete!\n For I have loved thee this seven long yeare,\n And our chance it was we co\u2019ld never meete\u2019\n\n III\n\n Then he tooke her in his arm\u00e8s two\n And kiss\u00e8d her both cheeke and chin,\n And twise or thrise he kiss\u00e8d this may[412]\n Before they two did part in twin.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018Faire maid I cannot do as I wo\u2019ld;\n [Yet what I can will I pleasure thee]\n Goe home and fett[413] thy father\u2019s red gold,\n And I\u2019le goe to the church and marry thee.\u2019\n\n V\n\n This ladye is gone to her father\u2019s hall,\n And well she knew where his red gold [lain],\n And counted forth five hundred pound,\n Besides all other jewels and chaines:\n\n VI\n\n And brought it all to Younge Andrew,\n It was well counted upon his knee:\n Then he tooke her by the lilye-white hand\n And led her up to an hill sae hie.\n\n VII\n\n She had on a gowne of blacke velvett,\n (A pityfull sight after ye shall see)\n \u2018Put off thy clothes, bonny wenche,\u2019 he sayes,\n \u2018For no foot further thou\u2019st gang with mee.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n But then she put off her gowne of velvett,\n With many a salt teare from her e\u2019e,\n And in a kirtle of fine breaden[414] silke\n She stood before Yonge Andrew\u2019s e\u2019e.\n\n IX\n\n Sayes, \u2018O put off thy kirtle of silke,\n For some and all shall goe with mee;\n Unto my owne lady I must it beare,\n Whom I must needs love better than thee!\u2019\n\n X\n\n Then she put off her kirtle of silke,\n With many a salt teare still from her e\u2019e;\n In a petticoate of scarlett redd\n She stood before Yonge Andrew\u2019s e\u2019e.\n\n XI\n\n Sayes, \u2018O put off thy petticoate,\n For some and all shall goe with mee;\n Unto my owne ladye I will it beare,\n That dwells soe far in a strange countrye.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n But then she put off her petticoate,\n With many a salt teare still from her e\u2019e,\n And in a smocke of brave white silk\n She stood before Yonge Andrew\u2019s e\u2019e.\n\n XIII\n\n Sayes, \u2018O put off thy smocke of silke,\n For some and all shall goe with me;\n Unto my owne ladye I will it beare,\n That dwells soe far in a strange countrye.\u2019--\n\n XIV\n\n Sayes, \u2018O remember, Yonge Andrew,\n Once of a woman you were borne;\n And for the birth that Marye bore\n I pray you let my smocke be upon!\u2019--\n\n XV\n\n Sayes, \u2018Yes, fayre ladye I know it well,\n Once of a woman I was borne;\n Yet for noe birth that Marye bore\n Thy smocke shall not be left upon.\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n But then she put off her headgeare fine--\n She had billaments[415] worth a hundred pound--\n The hayre was upon that bonny wench\u2019 head\n Cover\u2019d her bodye downe to the ground.\n\n XVII\n\n Then he pull\u2019d forth a Scottish brand,\n And held it there in his owne right hand;\n Sayes, \u2018Whether wilt dye upon my sword\u2019s point,\n Or thou wilt goe naked home againe?\u2019--\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018Life is sweet,\u2019 then, \u2018Sir,\u2019 said she,\n \u2018Therefore I pray you leave me with mine;\n Before I wo\u2019ld dye on your sword\u2019s point\n I had rather goe naked home againe.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018My father,\u2019 she sayes, \u2018is a right good earle\n As any remaines in his owne countrye;\n Gif ever he doe your bodye take,\n You are sure to flower a gallow-tree.\n\n XX\n\n \u2018And I have seven brethren,\u2019 she sayes,\n \u2018And they are all hardy men and bold;\n Gif ever they doe your bodye take\n You\u2019ll never again gang quicke over molde.\u2019--\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018If your father be a right good earle\n As any remaines in his owne countrye,\n Tush! he shall never my bodye take,\n I\u2019ll gang soe fast and over the sea.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018If you have seven brethren,\u2019 he sayes,\n \u2018If they be never soe hardy and bold,\n Tush! they shall never my bodye take,\n I\u2019ll gang soe fast over Scottish molde.\u2019\n\n XXIII\n\n This ladye is gone to her father\u2019s hall,\n Where every body their rest did take;\n For but the Earle which was her father\n Lay wakin\u2019 for his deere daughter\u2019s sake.\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018But who is that,\u2019 her father can say--\n \u2018Who is\u2019t soe privily knows the pinn?\u2019\n \u2018It\u2019s Helen, your owne deere daughter, father,\n I pray you rise and lett me in!\n\n XXV\n\n [\u2018I pray you, pray you, lett me in!\u2019--]\n \u2018Noe, by my hood!\u2019 quoth her father then;\n \u2018My house thou\u2019st never come within,\n Without I had my red gold againe.\u2019\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018Nay, nay, your gold is gone, father,\n [Yet I pray you rise and let me in!\u2019]\n \u2018Then naked thou came into this world,\n And naked thou shalt return againe.\u2019\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018Nay, God forgave His death, father,\n And soe I hope you will doe mee.\u2019\n \u2018Away, away, thou curs\u00e8d woman!\n Pray God an ill death thou may dee!\u2019\n\n XXVIII\n\n I\u2019 the morning, when her father got upp,\n A pittyful sight there he might see;\n His owne deere daughter was dead, without clothes,--\n And this was the end of that bonny ladye.\n\n XXIX\n\n But let us leave talking of this ladye\n And talke some more of Yonge Andrew:\n For false he was to this bonny ladye--\n More pitty that he had not beene true!\n\n XXX\n\n He was not gone in the forest a mile,\n Or half a mile into the heart of Wales,\n But a shee-wolfe caught him by such a wyle\n That hee must come to tell noe more tales.\n\n XXXI\n\n And now Yonge Andrew he is dead,\n But he never was bury\u00e8d under molde;\n And there as the wolfe devour\u00e8d him\n There ly\u00e8s all this great Earle\u2019s gold.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[411] draught = picture.\n\n[412] may = maid.\n\n[413] fett = fetch.\n\n[414] breaden = braided.\n\n[415] billaments = habiliments.\n\n\n\n\n_60. The Gay Goshawk_\n\n\n I\n\n \u2018O well\u2019s me o\u2019 my gay goss-hawk,\n That he can speak and flee!\n He\u2019ll carry a letter to my love,\n Bring back another to me.\u2019--\n\n II\n\n \u2018O how can I your true-love ken,\n Or how can I her know?\n Whan frae her mouth I never heard couth[416],\n Nor wi\u2019 my eyes her saw.\u2019--\n\n III\n\n \u2018O well sall ye my true-love ken,\n As soon as you her see;\n For, of a\u2019 the flow\u2019rs in fair England,\n The fairest flow\u2019r is she.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018At even at my love\u2019s bower-door\n There grows a bowing birk,\n An\u2019 sit ye down and sing thereon,\n As she gangs to the kirk.\n\n V\n\n \u2018An\u2019 four-and-twenty ladies fair\n Will wash and go to kirk,\n But well sall ye my true-love ken,\n For she wears gowd on her skirt.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018An\u2019 four-and-twenty gay ladies\n Will to the mass repair,\n But well sall ye my true-love ken,\n For she wears gowd on her hair.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n O even at that lady\u2019s bower door\n There grows a bowing birk,\n An\u2019 he set down and sang thereon,\n As she gaed to the kirk.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018O eet and drink, my marys[417] a\u2019,\n The wine flows you among,\n Till I gang to my shot-window[418],\n An\u2019 hear yon bonny bird\u2019s song.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Sing on, sing on, my bonny bird,\n The song ye sang the streen[419],\n For I ken by your sweet singin\u2019\n You\u2019re frae my true-love sen.\u2019\n\n X\n\n O first he sang a merry song,\n An\u2019 then he sang a grave,\n An\u2019 then he peck\u2019d his feathers gray,\n To her the letter gave.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Ha, there\u2019s a letter frae your love,\n He says he sent you three;\n He canna wait your luve langer,\n But for your sake he\u2019ll dee.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018He bids you write a letter to him;\n He says he\u2019s sent you five;\n He canna wait your luve langer,\n Tho\u2019 you\u2019re the fairest alive.\u2019--\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018Ye bid him bake his bridal-bread,\n And brew his bridal-ale,\n An\u2019 I\u2019ll meet him in fair Scotland\n Lang, lang or it be stale.\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n She\u2019s doen her to her father dear\n Fa\u2019n low down on her knee:\n \u2018A boon, a boon, my father dear\n I pray you, grant it me!\u2019--\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Ask on, ask on, my daughter,\n An\u2019 granted it sall be;\n Except ae squire in fair Scotland,\n An\u2019 him you sall never see.\u2019--\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018The only boon, my father dear,\n That I do crave of thee,\n Is, gin I die in southin lands,\n In Scotland to bury me.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018An\u2019 the firstin kirk that ye come till,\n Ye gar the bells be rung,\n An\u2019 the nextin kirk that ye come till,\n Ye gar the mass be sung.\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018An\u2019 the thirdin kirk that ye come till,\n You deal gold for my sake,\n An\u2019 the fourthin kirk that ye come till,\n You tarry there till night.\u2019\n\n XIX\n\n She is doen her to her bigly[420] bow\u2019r,\n As fast as she could fare,\n An\u2019 she has tane a sleepy draught,\n That she had mixt wi\u2019 care.\n\n XX\n\n She\u2019s laid her down upon her bed,\n An\u2019 soon she\u2019s fa\u2019n asleep,\n And soon o\u2019er every tender limb\n Cauld death began to creep.\n\n XXI\n\n Whan night was flown, an\u2019 day was come,\n Nae ane that did her see\n But thought she was as surely dead\n As ony lady cou\u2019d be.\n\n XXII\n\n Her father an\u2019 her brothers dear\n Gar\u2019d make to her a bier;\n The tae half was o\u2019 guid red gold,\n The tither o\u2019 silver clear.\n\n XXIII\n\n Her mither an\u2019 her sisters fair\n Gar\u2019d work for her a sark;\n The tae half was o\u2019 cambrick fine,\n The tither o\u2019 needle wark.\n\n XXIV\n\n The firstin kirk that they came till,\n They gar\u2019d the bells be rung,\n An\u2019 the nextin kirk that they came till,\n They gar\u2019d the mass be sung.\n\n XXV\n\n The thirdin kirk that they came till,\n They dealt gold for her sake,\n An\u2019 the fourthin kirk that they came till,\n Lo, there they met her make[421]!\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018Lay down, lay down the bigly bier,\n Lat me the dead look on!\u2019--\n Wi\u2019 cherry cheeks and ruby lips\n She lay and smil\u2019d on him.\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018O ae sheave[422] o\u2019 your bread, true love,\n An\u2019 ae glass o\u2019 your wine!\n For I hae fasted for your sake\n These fully days is nine.\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018Gang hame, gang hame, my seven bold brothers,\n Gang hame and sound your horn;\n An\u2019 ye may boast in southin lands\n Your sister\u2019s play\u2019d you scorn!\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[416] couth = word.\n\n[417] marys = maidens.\n\n[418] shot-window here = bow-window.\n\n[419] the streen = yestreen.\n\n[420] bigly = commodious.\n\n[421] make = mate, lover.\n\n[422] sheave = slice.\n\n\n\n\n_61. Willie\u2019s Lyke-Wake_\n\n\n I\n\n \u2018Willie, Willie, what makes you sae sad?\u2019\n _And the sun shines over the valleys and a\u2019_--\n \u2018I lie sairly sick for the love of a maid.\u2019\n _Amang the blue flowers and the yellow and a\u2019._\n\n II\n\n \u2018O Willie, my son, I\u2019ll learn you a wile,\n How this pretty fair maid ye may beguile.\n\n III\n\n \u2018Ye maun lie doun just as ye were dead,\n And tak\u2019 your windin\u2019-sheet round your head.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018Ye maun gie the bellman his bell-groat,\n To ring your dead-bell at your lover\u2019s yett[423].\u2019\n\n V\n\n Willie lay doun just as he war dead,\n And took his windin\u2019-sheet round his head.\n\n VI\n\n He gied the bellman his bell-groat\n To ring his dead-bell at his lover\u2019s yett.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018O wha is this that is dead, I hear?\u2019--\n \u2018O wha but Willie that lo\u2019ed ye sae dear?\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n She is hame to her father\u2019s ain bour:\n \u2018I\u2019ll gang to yon lyke-wake[424] ae single hour.\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Ye maun tak\u2019 with you your brither John;\n It\u2019s not meet for maidens to venture alone.\u2019--\n\n X\n\n \u2018I\u2019ll not tak\u2019 with me my brither John,\n But I\u2019ll gang along myself all alone.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n It\u2019s when she cam\u2019 to her true lovers yett,\n She dealt the red gold round for his sak\u2019.\n\n XII\n\n It\u2019s when she came to her true lover\u2019s bed\n She lifted the sheet to look at the dead.\n\n XIII\n\n He\u2019s ta\u2019en her hand sae meek and sae sma\u2019,\n [And ca\u2019d her his wife before them a\u2019].\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018Fair maid, ye cam\u2019 without horse or boy,\n But I\u2019ll send you home with a merry convoy.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[423] yett = gate.\n\n[424] lyke-wake = corpse-watching.\n\n\n\n\n_62. Fair Margaret and Sweet William_\n\n\n I\n\n As it fell out on a long summer\u2019s day,\n Two lovers they sat on a hill:\n They sat together that long summer\u2019s day,\n And could not talk their fill.\n\n II\n\n \u2018I see no harm by you, Margaret,\n Nor you see none by me;\n Before to-morrow eight o\u2019clock\n A rich wedding shall you see.\u2019\n\n III\n\n Fair Margaret sat in her bower-window\n Combing her yellow hair,\n She saw Sweet William and his brown bride\n Unto the church draw near.\n\n IV\n\n Then down she laid her ivory comb,\n And up she bound her hair;\n She went out from her bower alive\n But alive never more came there.\n\n V\n\n When day was gone, and night was come,\n And all men fast asleep,\n Came in the ghost of fair Margaret,\n And stood at William\u2019s feet.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018How like ye the lady, Sweet William,\n That lies in your arms asleep?\n God give you joy of your gay bride-bed,\n And me of my winding-sheet!\u2019\n\n VII\n\n When night was gone, and day was come,\n And all men waked from sleep,\n His lady said to Sweet William,\n \u2018My dear, I have cause to weep:\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018I dream\u2019d a dream, Sweet William,\n That seldom comes to good:\n My bower was fill\u2019d with wild-wood swine,\n And our bride-bed full of blood.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n He call\u00e8d up his merry men all,\n By one, by two, by three.\n Saying, \u2018I\u2019ll away to Fair Margaret\u2019s bower,\n With the leave of my ladye.\u2019\n\n X\n\n And when he came to Fair Margaret\u2019s bower\n He knock\u00e8d at the ring;\n And who so ready as her seven brothers\n To rise and let him in?\n\n XI\n\n \u2018O, is she in the parlour?\u2019 he said,\n \u2018Or is she in the hall?\n Or is she in the long chamber\n Amongst her merry maids all?\u2019--\n\n XII\n\n \u2018No, she\u2019s not in the parlour,\u2019 they said,\n \u2018Nor she\u2019s not in the hall:\n But she is in the long chamber,\n Laid out against the wall.\u2019--\n\n XIII\n\n He turn\u00e8d up the covering-sheet,\n And look\u2019d upon the dead.\n \u2018Methinks her lips are pale and wan,\n She has lost her cherry red.\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n With that bespake the seven brothers,\n Making a piteous moan:\n \u2018You may go kiss your jolly brown bride,\n And let our sister alone.\u2019--\n\n XV\n\n \u2018If I do kiss my jolly brown bride,\n I do but what is right;\n For I made no vow to your sister dear,\n By day nor yet by night.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018Deal on, deal on, my merry men all,\n Deal on your cake and wine!\n For whatever is dealt at her funeral to-day\n Shall be dealt to-morrow at mine.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n Fair Margaret died on the over night,\n Sweet William died on the morrow:\n Fair Margaret died for pure, pure love,\n Sweet William died for sorrow.\n\n XVIII\n\n Go with your right to Newcastle,\n And come with your left side home;\n There you will see these two lovers\n Lie printed on one stone.\n\n\n\n\n_63. The Twa Brothers_\n\n\n I\n\n There were twa brethren in the North,\n They went to school thegither;\n The one unto the other said,\n \u2018Will you try a warsle[425], brither?\u2019\n\n II\n\n They warsled up, they warsled down,\n Till Sir John fell to the ground,\n And there was a knife in Sir Willie\u2019s pouch\n Gied him a deadly wound.\n\n III\n\n \u2018Tak\u2019 aff, tak\u2019 aff my holland sark,\n Rive[426] it frae gare[427] to gare.\n And stap it in my bleeding wound--\n \u2019Twill aiblins[428] bleed nae mair.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n He\u2019s pu\u2019it aff his holland sark,\n Rave it frae gare to gare,\n And stapt it in his bleeding wound--\n But aye it bled the mair.\n\n V\n\n \u2018O tak\u2019 now aff my green cleiding[429]\n And row[430] me saftly in,\n And carry me up to Chester kirk,\n Whar the grass grows fair and green.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018But what will ye say to your father dear\n When ye gae home at e\u2019en?\u2019--\n \u2018I\u2019ll say ye\u2019re lying at Chester kirk,\n Whar the grass grows fair and green.\u2019--\n\n VII\n\n \u2018O no, O no, when he speers[431] for me\n Saying, \u201cWilliam, whar is John?\u201d\n Ye\u2019ll say ye left me at Chester school\n Leaving the school alone.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n He\u2019s ta\u2019en him up upo\u2019 his back,\n And borne him hence away,\n And carried him to Chester kirk,\n And laid him in the clay.\n\n IX\n\n But when he sat in his father\u2019s chair,\n He grew baith pale and wan:\n \u2018O what blude\u2019s that upon your brow?\n And whar is your brither John?\u2019--\n\n X\n\n \u2018O John\u2019s awa\u2019 to Chester school,\n A scholar he\u2019ll return;\n He bade me tell his father dear\n About him no\u2019 to mourn.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018And it is the blude o\u2019 my gude grey steed;\n He wadna hunt for me.\u2019--\n \u2018O thy steed\u2019s blude was ne\u2019er so red,\n Nor ne\u2019er so dear to me!\n\n XII\n\n \u2018And whaten blude\u2019s that upon your dirk?\n Dear Willie, tell to me.\u2019--\n \u2018It is the blude o\u2019 my ae brither\n And dule and wae is me!\u2019--\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018O what sall I say to your mither?\n Dear Willie, tell to me.\u2019--\n \u2018I\u2019ll saddle my steed and awa\u2019 I\u2019ll ride,\n To dwell in some far countrie.\u2019--\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018O when will ye come hame again?\n Dear Willie, tell to me!\u2019--\n \u2018When the sun and moon dance on yon green:\n And that will never be!\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[425] warsle = wrestle.\n\n[426] rive = tear.\n\n[427] gare = gore.\n\n[428] aiblins = perhaps.\n\n[429] cleiding = clothing.\n\n[430] row = wrap.\n\n[431] speers = asks.\n\n\n\n\n_64. The Cruel Brother_\n\n\n I\n\n There were three ladies play\u2019d at the ba\u2019,\n _With a hey ho! and a lily gay!_\n By came a knight and he woo\u2019d them a\u2019\n _As the primrose spreads so sweetly.\n Sing Annet, and Marret, and fair Maisrie,\n As the dew hangs i\u2019 the wood, gay ladie!_\n\n II\n\n The first ane she was clad in red:\n \u2018O lady fair, Will you be my bride?\u2019\n\n III\n\n The midmost ane was clad in green:\n \u2018O lady fair, will you be my queen?\u2019\n\n IV\n\n The youngest o\u2019 them was clad in white:\n \u2018O lady fair, be my heart\u2019s delight!\u2019--\n\n V\n\n \u2018Sir knight ere ye my favour win,\n Ye maun get consent frae a\u2019 my kin.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Ye maun go ask my father, the King:\n Sae maun ye ask my mither, the Queen.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Sae maun ye ask my sister Anne,\n And dinna forget my brother John.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n He has sought her from her father, the King\n And sae did he her mither, the Queen.\n\n IX\n\n He has sought her from her sister Anne:\n But he has forgot her brither John.\n\n X\n\n Now when the wedding day was come,\n The knight would take his bonny bride home.\n\n XI\n\n And many a lord and many a knight\n Came to behold that ladie bright.\n\n XII\n\n And there was nae man that did her see\n But wish\u2019d himself bridegroom to be.\n\n XIII\n\n Her father led her down the stair,\n And her mither dear she kiss\u2019d her there.\n\n XIV\n\n Her sister Anne led her thro\u2019 the close,\n And her brother John set her on her horse.\n\n XV\n\n She lean\u2019d her o\u2019er the saddle-bow,\n To give him a kiss ere she did go.\n\n XVI\n\n He has ta\u2019en a knife, baith lang and sharp,\n And stabb\u2019d that bonny bride to the heart.\n\n XVII\n\n She hadna ridden half thro\u2019 the town,\n Until her heart\u2019s blude stain\u2019d her gown.\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018Ride saftly up,\u2019 said the best young man;\n \u2018I think our bride come hooly[432] on.\u2019\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018Ride up, ride up,\u2019 said the second man;\n \u2018I think our bride looks pale and wan.\u2019\n\n XX\n\n Up then comes the gay bridegroom,\n And straight unto the bride he came.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018Does your side-saddle sit awry?\n Or does your steed [go heavily]?\u2019--\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018O lead me gently over yon stile,\n For there would I sit and bleed awhile.\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018O lead me gently up yon hill,\n For there would I sit and make my will.\u2019--\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018O what will you leave to your father dear?\u2019--\n \u2018The milk-white steed that brought me here.\u2019--\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018What will you leave to your mother dear?\u2019--\n \u2018My wedding shift that I do wear.\u2019--\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018What will you leave to your sister Anne?\u2019--\n \u2018My silken snood and my golden fan.\u2019--\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018What will you leave to your brother John?\u2019--\n _With a hay ho! and a lily gay!_\n \u2018The gallows-tree to hang him on.\u2019\n _And the primrose spreads so sweetly.\n Sing Annet, and Marret, and fair Maisrie,\n And the dew hangs i\u2019 the wood, gay ladie!_\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[432] hooly = slowly, softly.\n\n\n\n\n_65. Edward, Edward_\n\n\n I\n\n \u2018Why does your brand sae drop wi\u2019 blude,\n Edward, Edward?\n Why does your brand sae drop wi\u2019 blude,\n And why sae sad gang ye, O?\u2019--\n \u2018O I hae kill\u2019d my hawk sae gude,\n Mither, mither;\n O I hae kill\u2019d my hawk sae gude,\n And I had nae mair but he, O.\u2019\n\n II\n\n \u2018Your hawk\u2019s blude was never sae red,\n Edward, Edward;\n Your hawk\u2019s blude was never sae red,\n My dear son, I tell thee, O.\u2019--\n \u2018O I hae kill\u2019d my red-roan steed,\n Mither, mither;\n O I hae kill\u2019d my red-roan steed,\n That erst was sae fair and free, O.\u2019\n\n III\n\n \u2018Your steed was auld, and ye hae got mair,\n Edward, Edward;\n Your steed was auld, and ye hae got mair;\n Some other dule ye dree[433], O.\u2019--\n \u2018O I hae kill\u2019d my father dear,\n Mither, mither;\n O I hae kill\u2019d my father dear,\n Alas, and wae is me, O!\u2019\n\n IV\n\n \u2018And whatten penance will ye dree for that,\n Edward, Edward?\n Whatten penance will ye dree for that?\n My dear son, now tell me, O.\u2019--\n \u2018I\u2019ll set my feet in yonder boat,\n Mither, mither;\n I\u2019ll set my feet in yonder boat,\n And I\u2019ll fare over the sea, O.\u2019\n\n V\n\n \u2018And what will ye do wi\u2019 your tow\u2019rs and your ha\u2019,\n Edward, Edward?\n And what will ye do wi\u2019 your tow\u2019rs and your ha\u2019,\n That were sae fair to see, O?\u2019--\n \u2018I\u2019ll let them stand till they doun fa\u2019,\n Mither, mither;\n I\u2019ll let them stand till they doun fa\u2019,\n For here never mair maun I be, O.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n \u2018And what will ye leave to your bairns and your wife,\n Edward, Edward?\n And what will ye leave to your bairns and your wife,\n When ye gang owre the sea, O?\u2019--\n \u2018The warld\u2019s room: let them beg through life,\n Mither, mither;\n The warld\u2019s room: let them beg through life;\n For them never mair will I see, O.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n \u2018And what will ye leave to your ain mither dear,\n Edward, Edward?\n And what will ye leave to your ain mither dear,\n My dear son, now tell me, O?\u2019--\n \u2018The curse of hell frae me sall ye bear,\n Mither, mither;\n The curse of hell frae me sall ye bear:\n Sic counsels ye gave to me, O!\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[433] dule ye dree = grief you suffer.\n\n\n\n\n_66. Lord Randal_\n\n\n I\n\n \u2018O where hae ye been, Lord Randal, my son?\n O where hae ye been, my handsome young man?\u2019--\n \u2018I hae been to the wild wood; mother, make my bed soon,\n For I\u2019m weary wi\u2019 hunting, and fain wald lie down.\u2019\n\n II\n\n \u2018Where gat ye your dinner, Lord Randal, my son?\n Where gat ye your dinner, my handsome young man?\u2019--\n \u2018I dined wi\u2019 my true-love; mother, make my bed soon,\n For I\u2019m weary wi\u2019 hunting, and fain wald lie down.\u2019\n\n III\n\n \u2018What gat ye to your dinner, Lord Randal, my son?\n What gat ye to your dinner, my handsome young man?\u2019--\n \u2018I gat eels boil\u2019d in broo\u2019; mother, make my bed soon,\n For I\u2019m weary wi\u2019 hunting, and fain wald lie down.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n \u2018What became of your bloodhounds, Lord Randal, my son?\n What became of your bloodhounds, my handsome young man?\u2019--\n \u2018O they swell\u2019d and they died; mother, make my bed soon,\n For I\u2019m weary wi\u2019 hunting, and fain wald lie down.\u2019\n\n V\n\n \u2018O I fear ye are poison\u2019d, Lord Randal, my son!\n O I fear ye are poison\u2019d, my handsome young man!\u2019--\n \u2018O yes! I am poison\u2019d; mother, make my bed soon,\n For I\u2019m sick at the heart, and I fain wald lie down.\u2019\n\n\n\n\n_67. The Twa Corbies_\n\n(SCOTTISH VERSION)\n\n\n I\n\n As I was walking all alane,\n I heard twa corbies[434] making a mane:\n The tane unto the tither did say,\n \u2018Whar sall we gang and dine the day?\u2019\n\n II\n\n \u2018--In behint yon auld fail[435] dyke\n I wot there lies a new-slain knight;\n And naebody kens that he lies there\n But his hawk, his hound, and his lady fair.\n\n III\n\n \u2018His hound is to the hunting gane,\n His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame,\n His lady\u2019s ta\u2019en anither mate,\n So we may mak\u2019 our dinner sweet.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018Ye\u2019ll sit on his white hause[436]-bane,\n And I\u2019ll pike out his bonny blue e\u2019en:\n Wi\u2019 ae lock o\u2019 his gowden hair\n We\u2019ll theek[437] our nest when it grows bare.\n\n V\n\n \u2018Mony a one for him maks mane,\n But nane sall ken whar he is gane:\n O\u2019er his white banes, when they are bare,\n The wind sall blaw for evermair.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[434] corbies = ravens.\n\n[435] fail = turf.\n\n[436] hause = neck.\n\n[437] theek = thatch.\n\n\n\n\n_68. The Three Ravens_\n\n\n I\n\n There were three ravens sat on a tree,\n They were as black as they might be.\n\n II\n\n The one of them said to his make[438],\n \u2018Where shall we our breakfast take?\u2019\n\n III\n\n \u2018Down in yonder green\u00e8 field\n There lies a knight slain under his shield;\n\n IV\n\n \u2018His hounds they lie down at his feet,\n So well do they their master keep;\n\n V\n\n \u2018His hawks they flie so eagerly,\n There\u2019s no fowl dare come him nigh.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Down there comes a fallow doe\n As great with young as she might goe.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018She lift up his bloudy head\n And kist his wounds that were so red.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018She gat him up upon her back\n And carried him to earthen lake.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018She buried him before the prime,\n She was dead herself ere evensong time.\n\n X\n\n \u2018God send every gentleman\n Such hounds, such hawks, and such a leman!\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[438] make = mate.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK III\n\n\n\n\n_69. The Nut-Brown Maid_\n\n\n I\n\n _He._ _Be it right or wrong, these men among\n On women do complain;\n Affirming this, how that it is\n A labour spent in vain\n To love them wele; for never a dele[439]\n They love a man again:\n For let a man do what he can\n Their favour to attain,\n Yet if a new to them pursue,\n Their first true lover than[440]\n Laboureth for naught; for from her thought\n He is a banished man._\n\n II\n\n _She._ _I say not nay, but that all day\n It is both written and said\n That woman\u2019s faith is, as who saith\n All utterly decay\u2019d:\n But nevertheless, right good witn\u00e8ss\n In this case might be laid\n That they love true and contin\u00f9e:\n Record the Nut-brown Maid,\n Which, when her love came her to prove,\n To her to make his moan,\n Would not depart; for in her heart\n She loved but him alone._\n\n III\n\n _He._ _Then between us let us discuss\n What was all the manere\n Between them two: we will also\n Tell all the pain in fere[441]\n That she was in. Now I begin,\n So that ye me answere:\n Wherefore all ye that present be,\n I pray you, give an ear.\n I am the Knight. I come by night,\n As secret as I can,\n Saying,_ Alas! thus standeth the case,\n I am a banished man.\n\n IV\n\n _She._ _And I your will for to fulfil\n In this will not refuse;\n Trusting to show, in word\u00e8s few,\n That men have an ill use--\n To their own shame--women to blame,\n And causeless them accuse.\n Therefore to you I answer now,\n All women to excuse:_\n Mine own heart dear, with you what cheer?\n I pray you, tell anone;\n For, in my mind, of all mankind\n I love but you alone.\n\n V\n\n _He._ It standeth so: a deed is do\n Whereof great harm shall grow:\n My destiny is for to die\n A shameful death, I trow;\n Or else to flee. The t\u2019 one must be.\n None other way I know\n But to withdraw as an outl\u00e0w,\n And take me to my bow.\n Wherefore adieu, mine own heart true!\n None other rede I can[442]:\n For I must to the green-wood go,\n Alone, a banished man.\n\n VI\n\n _She._ O Lord, what is this worldis bliss,\n That changeth as the moon!\n My summer\u2019s day in lusty May\n Is darked before the noon.\n I hear you say, farewell: Nay, nay,\n We d\u00e8part not so soon.\n Why say ye so? whither will ye go?\n Alas! what have ye done?\n All my welf\u00e0re to sorrow and care\n Should change, if ye were gone:\n For, in my mind, of all mankind\n I love but you alone.\n\n VII\n\n _He._ I can believe it shall you grieve,\n And somewhat you distrain[443];\n But afterward, your pain\u00e8s hard\n Within a day or twain\n Shall soon aslake; and ye shall take\n Comfort to you again.\n Why should ye ought? for, to make thought,\n Your labour were in vain.\n And thus I do; and pray you to,\n As hart\u00e8ly as I can:\n For I must to the green-wood go,\n Alone, a banished man.\n\n VIII\n\n _She._ Now, sith that ye have showed to me\n The secret of your mind,\n I shall be plain to you again,\n Like as ye shall me find.\n Sith it is so that ye will go,\n I will not live behind.\n Shall never be said the Nut-brown Maid\n Was to her love unkind.\n Make you read\u1ef3, for so am I,\n Although it were anone:\n For, in my mind, of all mankind\n I love but you alone.\n\n IX\n\n _He._ Yet I you rede to take good heed\n What men will think and say:\n Of young, of old, it shall be told\n That ye be gone away\n Your wanton will for to fulfil,\n In green-wood you to play;\n And that ye might for your delight\n No longer make delay.\n Rather than ye should thus for me\n Be called an ill wom\u00e0n\n Yet would I to the green-wood go,\n Alone, a banished man.\n\n X\n\n _She._ Though it be sung of old and young\n That I should be to blame,\n Theirs be the charge that speak so large\n In hurting of my name:\n For I will prove that faithful love\n It is devoid of shame;\n In your distress and heaviness\n To part with[444] you the same:\n And sure all tho[445] that do not so\n True lovers are they none:\n For, in my mind, of all mankind\n I love but you alone.\n\n XI\n\n _He._ I counsel you, Remember how\n It is no maiden\u2019s law\n Nothing to doubt, but to run out\n To wood with an outl\u00e0w.\n For ye must there in your hand bear\n A bow read\u1ef3 to draw;\n And as a thief thus must you live\n Ever in dread and awe;\n Whereby to you great harm might grow:\n Yet had I liever than\n That I had to the green-wood go,\n Alone, a banished man.\n\n XII\n\n _She._ I think not nay but as ye say;\n It is no maiden\u2019s lore;\n But love may make me for your sake,\n As I have said before,\n To come on foot, to hunt and shoot,\n To get us meat and store;\n For so that I your company\n May have, I ask no more.\n From which to part it maketh my heart\n As cold as any stone;\n For, in my mind, of all mankind\n I love but you alone.\n\n XIII\n\n _He._ For an outl\u00e0w this is the law,\n That men him take and bind:\n Without pitie, hang\u00e8d to be,\n And waver with the wind.\n If I had need (as God forbede!)\n What socours could ye find?\n Forsooth, I trow, you and your bow\n For fear would draw behind.\n And no mervail; for little avail\n Were in your counsel than:\n Wherefore I\u2019ll to the green-wood go,\n Alone, a banished man.\n\n XIV\n\n _She._ Right well know ye that women be\n But feeble for to fight;\n No womanhede it is, indeed,\n To be bold as a knight:\n Yet in such fear if that ye were\n With enemies day and night,\n I would withstand, with bow in hand,\n To grieve them as I might,\n And you to save; as women have\n From death men many one:\n For, in my mind, of all mankind\n I love but you alone.\n\n XV\n\n _He._ Yet take good hede; for ever I drede\n That ye could not sustain\n The thorny ways, the deep vall\u00e8ys,\n The snow, the frost, the rain,\n The cold, the heat; for dry or wete,\n We must lodge on the plain;\n And, us above, no other roof\n But a brake bush or twain:\n Which soon should grieve you, I believe;\n And ye would gladly than\n That I had to the green-wood go,\n Alone, a banished man.\n\n XVI\n\n _She._ Sith I have here been partynere\n With you of joy and bliss,\n I must als\u00f2 part of your woe\n Endure, as reason is:\n Yet I am sure of one pleas\u00f9re,\n And shortly it is this--\n That where ye be, me seemeth, pard\u00e9,\n I could not fare amiss.\n Without more speech I you beseech\n That we were shortly gone;\n For, in my mind, of all mankind\n I love but you alone.\n\n XVII\n\n _He._ If ye go thyder, ye must consider,\n When ye have lust to dine,\n There shall no meat be for to gete,\n Nether bere, ale, ne wine,\n Ne shet\u00e8s clean, to lie between,\n Made of the thread and twine;\n None other house, but leaves and boughs,\n To cover your head and mine.\n Lo, mine heart sweet, this ill di\u00e8te\n Should make you pale and wan:\n Wherefore I\u2019ll to the green-wood go,\n Alone, a banished man.\n\n XVIII\n\n _She._ Among the wild deer such an arch\u00e8re,\n As men say that ye be,\n Ne may not fail of good vitayle\n Where is so great plent\u00e8:\n And water clear of the rivere\n Shall be full sweet to me;\n With which in hele[446] I shall right wele\n Endure, as ye shall see;\n And, or we go, a bed or two\n I can provide anone;\n For, in my mind, of all mankind\n I love but you alone.\n\n XIX\n\n _He._ Lo yet, before, ye must do more,\n If ye will go with me:\n As, cut your hair up by your ear,\n Your kirtle by the knee;\n With bow in hand for to withstand\n Your enemies, if need be:\n And this same night, before daylight,\n To woodward will I flee.\n If that ye will all this fulfil,\n Do it shortly as ye can:\n Else will I to the green-wood go,\n Alone, a banished man.\n\n XX\n\n _She._ I shall as now do more for you\n Than \u2019longeth to womanhede;\n To short my hair, a bow to bear,\n To shoot in time of need.\n O my sweet mother! before all other\n For you I have most drede!\n But now, adieu! I must ensue\n Where fortune doth me lead.\n All this make ye: Now let us flee;\n The day cometh fast upon:\n For, in my mind, of all mankind\n I love but you alone.\n\n XXI\n\n _He._ Nay, nay, not so; ye shall not go,\n And I shall tell you why--\n Your appetite is to be light\n Of love, I well espy:\n For, right as ye have said to me,\n In likewise hardily\n Ye would answere whosoever it were,\n In way of compan\u1ef3:\n It is said of old, Soon hot, soon cold;\n And so is a wom\u00e0n:\n Wherefore I to the wood will go,\n Alone, a banished man.\n\n XXII\n\n _She._ If ye take heed, it is no need\n Such words to say to me;\n For oft ye prayed, and long assayed,\n Or I loved you, pard\u00e8:\n And though that I of ancestry\n A baron\u2019s daughter be,\n Yet have you proved how I you loved,\n A squire of low degree;\n And ever shall, whatso befall,\n To die therefore anone;\n For, in my mind, of all mankind\n I love but you alone.\n\n XXIII\n\n _He._ A baron\u2019s child to be beguiled,\n It were a curs\u00e8d deed!\n To be fel\u00e0w with an outlaw--\n Almighty God forbede!\n Yet better were the poor squyere\n Alone to forest yede[447]\n Than ye shall say another day\n That by my curs\u00e8d rede\n Ye were betrayed. Wherefore, good maid,\n The best rede that I can,\n Is, that I to the green-wood go,\n Alone, a banished man.\n\n XXIV\n\n _She._ Whatever befall, I never shall\n Of this thing be upbraid:\n But if ye go, and leave me so,\n Then have ye me betrayed.\n Remember you wele, how that ye dele;\n For if ye, as ye said,\n Be so unkind to leave behind\n Your love, the Nut-brown Maid,\n Trust me trul\u1ef3 that I shall die\n Soon after ye be gone:\n For, in my mind, of all mankind\n I love but you alone.\n\n XXV\n\n _He._ If that ye went, ye should repent;\n For in the forest now\n I have purveyed me of a maid\n Whom I love more than you:\n Another more fair than ever ye were\n I dare it well avow;\n And of you both each should be wroth\n With other, as I trow:\n It were mine ease to live in peace;\n So will I, if I can:\n Wherefore I to the wood will go,\n Alone, a banished man.\n\n XXVI\n\n _She._ Though in the wood I understood\n Ye had a paramour,\n All this may nought remove my thought,\n But that I will be your\u2019:\n And she shall find me soft and kind\n And courteis every hour;\n Glad to fulfil all that she will\n Command me, to my power:\n For had ye, lo, an hundred mo,\n Yet would I be that one:\n For, in my mind, of all mankind\n I love but you alone.\n\n XXVII\n\n _He._ Mine own dear love, I see the prove\n That ye be kind and true;\n Of maid, of wife, in all my life,\n The best that ever I knew.\n Be merry and glad; be no more sad;\n The case is chang\u00e8d new;\n For it were ruth that for your truth\n Ye should have cause to rue.\n Be not dismayed, whatsoever I said\n To you when I began;\n I will not to the green-wood go;\n I am no banished man.\n\n XXVIII\n\n _She._ These tidings be more glad to me\n Than to be made a queen,\n If I were sure they should endure;\n But it is often seen\n When men will break promise they speak\n The wordis on the splene[448].\n Ye shape some wile me to beguile,\n And steal from me, I ween:\n Then were the case worse than it was,\n And I more wo-begone:\n For, in my mind, of all mankind\n I love but you alone.\n\n XXIX\n\n _He._ Ye shall not nede further to drede:\n I will not dispar\u00e0ge\n You (God defend), sith you descend\n Of so great a lin\u00e0ge.\n Now understand: to Westmoreland,\n Which is my heritage,\n I will you bring; and with a ring,\n By way of marri\u00e0ge\n I will you take, and lady make,\n As shortly as I can:\n Thus have you won an Earle\u2019s son,\n And not a banished man.\n\n XXX\n\n _Here may ye see that women be\n In love meek, kind, and stable;\n Let never man reprove them than,\n Or call them variable;\n But rather pray God that we may\n To them be comfortable;\n Which sometime proveth such as He loveth,\n If they be charitable.\n For sith men would that women should\n Be meek to them each one;\n Much more ought they to God obey,\n And serve but Him alone._\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[439] never a dele = never a bit.\n\n[440] than = then.\n\n[441] in fere = in company, together.\n\n[442] rede I can = counsel I know.\n\n[443] distrain = distress.\n\n[444] part with = share with.\n\n[445] tho = those.\n\n[446] hele = health.\n\n[447] yede = went.\n\n[448] on the splene = in haste.\n\n\n\n\n_70. Fause Foodrage_\n\n\n I\n\n King Easter has courted her for her lands,\n King Wester for her fee,\n King Honour for her comely face,\n And for her fair bodie.\n\n II\n\n They had not been four months married,\n As I have heard them tell,\n Until the nobles of the land\n Against them did rebel.\n\n III\n\n And they cast kevils[449] them amang,\n And kevils them between;\n And they cast kevils them amang,\n Wha suld gae kill the king.\n\n IV\n\n O, some said yea, and some said nay,\n Their words did not agree;\n Till up and got him, Fause Foodrage,\n And swore it suld be he.\n\n V\n\n When bells were rung, and mass was sung,\n And a\u2019 men bound to bed,\n King Honour and his gay ladye\n In a high chamber were laid.\n\n VI\n\n Then up and raise him, Fause Foodrage,\n When a\u2019 were fast asleep,\n And slew the porter in his lodge,\n That watch and ward did keep.\n\n VII\n\n O four-and-twenty silver keys\n Hang hie upon a pin;\n And aye, as ae door he did unlock,\n He has fasten\u2019d it him behin\u2019.\n\n VIII\n\n Then up and raise him, King Honour,\n Says--\u2018What means a\u2019 this din?\n Or what\u2019s the matter, Fause Foodrage,\n Or wha has loot you in?\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018O ye my errand weel sall learn,\n Before that I depart.\u2019--\n Then drew a knife, baith lang and sharp,\n And pierced him to the heart.\n\n X\n\n Then up and got the Queen hersell,\n And fell low down on her knee,\n \u2018O spare my life, now, Fause Foodrage!\n For I never injured thee.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018O spare my life, now, Fause Foodrage!\n Until I lighter be!\n And see gin it be lad or lass,\n King Honour has left me wi\u2019.\u2019--\n\n XII\n\n \u2018O gin it be a lass,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018Weel nurs\u00e8d it sall be;\n But gin it be a lad bairn,\n He sall be hang\u00e8d hie.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018I winna spare for his tender age,\n Nor yet for his hie hie kin;\n But soon as e\u2019er he born is,\n He sall mount the gallows pin.\u2019--\n\n XIV\n\n O four-and-twenty valiant knights\n Were set the Queen to guard;\n And four stood aye at her bour door,\n To keep both watch and ward.\n\n XV\n\n But when the time drew near an end,\n That she suld lighter be,\n She cast about to find a wile,\n To set her body free.\n\n XVI\n\n O she has birled these merry young men\n With the ale but and the wine,\n Until they were a\u2019 deadly drunk\n As any wild-wood swine.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018O narrow, narrow is this window,\n And big, big am I grown!\u2019--\n Yet through the might of Our Ladye,\n Out at it she is gone.\n\n XVIII\n\n She wander\u2019d up, she wander\u2019d down,\n She wander\u2019d out and in,\n And, at last, into the very swine\u2019s stythe\n The Queen brought forth a son.\n\n XIX\n\n Then they cast kevils them amang,\n Which suld gae seek the Queen;\n And the kevil fell upon Wise William,\n And he sent his wife for him.\n\n XX\n\n O when she saw Wise William\u2019s wife,\n The Queen fell on her knee:\n \u2018Win up, win up, madam!\u2019 she says:\n \u2018What needs this courtesie?\u2019--\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018O out o\u2019 this I winna rise,\n Till a boon ye grant to me;\n To change your lass for this lad bairn,\n King Honour left me wi\u2019.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018And ye maun learn my gay goss-hawk\n Right weel to breast a steed;\n And I sall learn your turtle dow[450]\n As weel to write and read.\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018And ye maun learn my gay goss-hawk\n To wield both bow and brand;\n And I sall learn your turtle dow\n To lay gowd[451] wi\u2019 her hand.\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018At kirk and market when we meet,\n We\u2019ll dare make nae avowe,\n But--\u201cDame, how does my gay goss-hawk?\u201d\n \u201cMadame, how does my dow?\u201d\u2019\n\n XXV\n\n When days were gane, and years came on,\n Wise William he thought lang;\n And he has ta\u2019en King Honour\u2019s son\n A-hunting for to gang.\n\n XXVI\n\n It sae fell out, at this hunt\u00ecng,\n Upon a simmer\u2019s day,\n That they came by a fair castell,\n Stood on a sunny brae.\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018O dinna ye see that bonny castell,\n Wi\u2019 halls and towers sae fair?\n Gin ilka man had back his ain,\n Of it you suld be heir.\u2019--\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018How I suld be heir of that castell,\n In sooth, I canna see;\n For it belangs to Fause Foodrage,\n And he is na kin to me.\u2019--\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018O gin ye suld kill him, Fause Foodrage,\n You would do but what was right;\n For I wot he kill\u2019d your father dear,\n Or ever ye saw the light.\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018And gin ye suld kill him, Fause Foodrage,\n There is no man durst you blame;\n For he keeps your mother a prisoner,\n And she darna take ye hame.\u2019--\n\n XXXI\n\n The boy stared wild like a gray goss-hawk;\n Says--\u2018What may a\u2019 this mean?\u2019--\n \u2018My boy, ye are King Honour\u2019s son,\n And your mother\u2019s our lawful Queen.\u2019--\n\n XXXII\n\n \u2018O gin I be King Honour\u2019s son,\n By Our Ladye I swear,\n This night I will that traitor slay,\n And relieve my mother dear!\u2019--\n\n XXXIII\n\n He has set his bent bow to his breast\n And leaped the castell wa\u2019;\n And soon he has seized on Fause Foodrage,\n Wha loud for help \u2019gan ca\u2019.\n\n XXXIV\n\n \u2018O haud your tongue, now, Fause Foodrage,\n Frae me ye shanna flee!\u2019--\n Syne pierced him through the fause, fause heart,\n And set his mother free.\n\n XXXV\n\n And he has rewarded Wise William\n Wi\u2019 the best half of his land;\n And sae has he the turtle dow,\n Wi\u2019 the truth o\u2019 his right hand.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[449] kevils = lots.\n\n[450] dow = dove.\n\n[451] lay gowd = embroider in gold.\n\n\n\n\n_71. The Fair Flower of Northumberland_\n\n\n I\n\n It was a knight in Scotland born,\n _Follow, my love, come over the strand_--\n Was taken prisoner and left forlorn,\n Even by the good Earl of Northumberland.\n\n II\n\n Then was he cast in prison strong,\n _Follow, my love, come over the strand_--\n Where he could not walk nor lie along,\n Even by the good Earl of Northumberland.\n\n III\n\n And as in sorrow thus he lay,\n _Follow, my love, come over the strand_--\n The Earl\u2019s sweet daughter walk\u2019d that way,\n And she the faire flower of Northumberland.\n\n IV\n\n And loud to her this knight did crie,\n _Follow, my love, come over the strand_--\n The salt teares standing in his eye,\n And she the faire flower of Northumberland.\n\n V\n\n \u2018Faire lady,\u2019 he said, \u2018take pity on me,\n _Follow, my love, come over the strand_--\n And let me not in prison dee[452],\n And you the faire flower of Northumberland.\u2019--\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Faire sir, how should I take pity on thee?\n _Follow, my love, come over the strand_--\n Thou being a foe to our countrie,\n And I the faire flower of Northumberland.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Faire lady, I am no foe,\u2019 he said,\n _Follow, my love, come over the strand_--\n \u2018Through thy sweet love here was I stay\u2019d,\n For thee, the faire flower of Northumberland.\u2019--\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Why shouldst thou come here for love of me,\n _Follow, my love, come over the strand_--\n Having wife and children in thy countrie?\n --And I the faire flower of Northumberland.\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018I swear by the bless\u00e8d Trinitie,\n _Follow, my love, come over the strand_--\n I have no wife nor children, I,\n But I\u2019ll make you my ladye in faire Scotland.\n\n X\n\n \u2018I swear by Him that was crown\u2019d with thorn,\n _Follow, my love, come over the strand_--\n That I never had wife since the day I was born,\n But I live a free lord in faire Scotland.\u2019--\n\n XI\n\n She stole from her father\u2019s pillow the key,\n _Follow, my love, come over the strand_--\n And soon out of prison she\u2019s set him free\n To wend with her into faire Scotland.\n\n XII\n\n Likewise much gold she got by sleight,\n _Follow, my love, come over the strand_--\n And all to help this forlorne knight\n To wend from her father to faire Scotland.\n\n XIII\n\n She\u2019s led him down to her father\u2019s stable,\n _Follow, my love, come over the strand_--\n And she\u2019s stolen two steeds both wight[453] and able,\n To carry them on to faire Scotland.\n\n XIV\n\n They rode till they came to a water clear,\n _Follow, my love, come over the strand_--\n \u2018Good Sir, how should I follow you here,\n And I the faire flower of Northumberland?\n\n XV\n\n \u2018The water is rough and wonderful steepe,\n _Follow, my love, come over the strand_--\n And on my saddle I shall not keepe,\n And I the faire flower of Northumberland.\u2019--\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018Fear not the ford, faire lady,\u2019 quoth he,\n _Follow, my love, come over the strand_--\n \u2018For long I cannot stay for thee,\n And thou the faire flower of Northumberland.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n From top to toe all wet was she:\n _Follow, my love, come over the strand_--\n \u2018This have I done for love of thee,\n And I the faire flower of Northumberland.\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n They rode till they came to a Scottish moss,\n _Follow, my love, come over the strand_--\n He bade her light off from her father\u2019s horse,\n Says, \u2018Go, get you back to Northumberland.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018For I have a wife and children five,\n _Follow, my love, come over the strand_--\n In Edenborrow they be alive,\n So get thee home to Northumberland.\u2019--\n\n XX\n\n \u2018Have pity on me as I had it on thee!\n _Follow, my love, come over the strand_--\n A cook in your kitchen I will be,\n Even I, the faire flower of Northumberland.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018Or take me by the body so meek,\n _Follow, my love, come over the strand_--\n And throw me in the water so deep,\n For I darena go back to Northumberland.\u2019\n\n XXII\n\n He turn\u2019d him around and he thought of a plan,\n _Follow, my love, come over the strand_--\n He bought an old horse and he hired an old man\n To carry her back to Northumberland.\n\n XXIII\n\n When she came thro\u2019 her father\u2019s ha\u2019,\n _Follow, my love, come over the strand_--\n She louted[454] her low amongst them a\u2019,\n She was the faire flower of Northumberland.\n\n XXIV\n\n Down came her father, he saw her and smiled,\n _Follow, my love, come over the strand_--\n \u2018You arena the first the false Scots have beguiled,\n And ye\u2019re aye welcome back to Northumberland!\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[452] dee = die.\n\n[453] wight = sturdy.\n\n[454] louted = bowed.\n\n\n\n\n_72. Young John_\n\n\n I\n\n A fair maid sat in her bower-door,\n Wringing her lily hands,\n And by it came a sprightly youth,\n Fast tripping o\u2019er the strands.\n\n II\n\n \u2018Where gang ye, young John,\u2019 she says,\n \u2018Sae early in the day?\n It gars me think, by your fast trip,\n Your journey\u2019s far away.\u2019\n\n III\n\n He turn\u2019d about wi\u2019 a surly look,\n And said, \u2018What\u2019s that to thee?\n I\u2019m gaen to see a lovely maid,\n Mair fairer far than ye.\u2019--\n\n IV\n\n \u2018Now hae ye play\u2019d me this, fause love,\n In simmer, \u2019mid the flowers?\n I shall repay ye back again,\n In winter, \u2019mid the showers.\n\n V\n\n \u2018But again, dear love, and again, dear love,\n Will ye not turn again?\n For as ye look to other women,\n Sall I to other men.\u2019--\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Go make your choice of whom you please,\n For I my choice will have;\n I\u2019ve chosen a maid more fair than thee,\n I never will deceive.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n She\u2019s kilted up her claithing fine,\n And after him gaed she;\n But aye he said, \u2018Ye\u2019ll turn again,\n Nae farther gang wi\u2019 me.\u2019--\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018But again, dear love, and again, dear love,\n Will ye ne\u2019er love me again?\n Alas, for loving you sae well,\n And you nae me again!\u2019\n\n IX\n\n The firstan town that they cam\u2019 till,\n He bought her brooch and ring;\n And aye he bade her turn again,\n And nae farther gang wi\u2019 him.\n\n X\n\n \u2018But again, dear love, and again, dear love,\n Will ye ne\u2019er love me again?\n Alas, for loving you sae well,\n And you nae me again!\u2019\n\n XI\n\n The nextan town that they cam\u2019 till,\n He bought her muff and gloves;\n But aye he bade her turn again,\n And choose some other loves.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018But again, dear love, and again, dear love,\n Will ye ne\u2019er love me again?\n Alas, for loving you sae well,\n And you nae me again!\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n The nextan town that they cam\u2019 till,\n His heart it grew mair fain,\n And he was as deep in love wi\u2019 her\n As she was ower again.\n\n XIV\n\n The nextan town that they cam\u2019 till,\n He bought her wedding gown,\n And made her lady of ha\u2019s and bowers,\n Into sweet Berwick town.\n\n\n\n\n_73. Lady Maisry_\n\n\n I\n\n The young lords o\u2019 the north country\n Have all a-wooing gone,\n To win the love of Lady Maisry,\n But o\u2019 them she wou\u2019d hae none.\n\n II\n\n O they hae courted Lady Maisry\n Wi\u2019 a\u2019 kin kind of things;\n An\u2019 they hae sought her Lady Maisry\n Wi\u2019 brooches an\u2019 wi\u2019 rings.\n\n III\n\n An\u2019 they ha\u2019 sought her Lady Maisry\n Frae father and frae mother;\n An\u2019 they ha\u2019 sought her Lady Maisry\n Frae sister an\u2019 frae brother.\n\n IV\n\n An\u2019 they ha\u2019 follow\u2019d her Lady Maisry\n Thro\u2019 chamber an\u2019 thro\u2019 ha\u2019;\n But a\u2019 that they cou\u2019d say to her,\n Her answer still was Na.\n\n V\n\n \u2018O haud your tongues, young men,\u2019 she says,\n \u2018An\u2019 think nae mair o\u2019 me;\n For I\u2019ve gi\u2019en my love to an English lord,\n An\u2019 think nae mair o\u2019 me.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n Her father\u2019s kitchy-boy heard that,\n An ill death may he dee!\n An\u2019 he is on to her brother,\n As fast as gang cou\u2019d he.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018O is my father an\u2019 my mother well,\n But an\u2019 my brothers three?\n Gin my sister Lady Maisry be well,\n There\u2019s naething can ail me.\u2019--\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Your father an\u2019 your mother is well,\n But an\u2019 your brothers three;\n Your sister Lady Maisry\u2019s well,\n So big wi\u2019 bairn gangs she.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Gin this be true you tell to me,\n My malison light on thee!\n But gin it be a lie you tell,\n You sal be hangit hie.\u2019\n\n X\n\n He\u2019s done him to his sister\u2019s bow\u2019r,\n Wi\u2019 meikle doole an\u2019 care;\n An\u2019 there he saw her Lady Maisry\n Kaiming her yellow hair.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018O wha is aught[455] that bairn,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018That ye sae big are wi\u2019?\n And gin ye winna own the truth,\n This moment ye sall dee.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n She turn\u2019d her right and roun\u2019 about,\n An\u2019 the kame fell frae her han\u2019;\n A trembling seiz\u2019d her fair body,\n An\u2019 her rosy cheek grew wan.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018O pardon me, my brother dear,\n An\u2019 the truth I\u2019ll tell to thee;\n My bairn it is to Lord William,\n An\u2019 he is betroth\u2019d to me.\u2019--\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018O cou\u2019d na ye gotten dukes, or lords,\n Intill your ain country,\n That ye draw up wi\u2019 an English dog,\n To bring this shame on me?\n\n XV\n\n \u2018But ye maun gi\u2019 up the English lord,\n Whan your young babe is born;\n For, gin you keep by him an hour langer,\n Your life sall be forlorn[456].\u2019--\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018I will gi\u2019 up this English blood,\n Till my young babe be born;\n But the never a day nor hour langer,\n Tho\u2019 my life should be forlorn.\u2019--\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018O whare is a\u2019 my merry young men,\n Whom I gi\u2019 meat and fee,\n To pu\u2019 the thistle and the thorn,\n To burn this woman wi\u2019?\u2019--\n\n XVIII\n\n She turn\u2019d her head on her left shoulder,\n Saw her girdle hang on a tree;\n \u2018O God bless them wha gave me that,\n They\u2019ll never give more to me.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018O whare will I get a bonny boy,\n To help me in my need,\n To rin wi\u2019 haste to Lord William,\n And bid him come wi\u2019 speed?\u2019--\n\n XX\n\n O out it spake a bonny boy,\n Stood by her brother\u2019s side:\n \u2018O I would run your errand, lady,\n O\u2019er a\u2019 the world sae wide.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018Aft have I run your errands, lady,\n Whan blawn baith win\u2019 and weet;\n But now I\u2019ll rin your errand, lady,\n Wi\u2019 saut tears on my cheek.\u2019\n\n XXII\n\n O whan he came to broken briggs,\n He bent his bow and swam,\n An\u2019 whan he came to the green grass growin\u2019\n He slack\u2019d his shoone and ran.\n\n XXIII\n\n O whan he came to Lord William\u2019s gates,\n He baed[457] na to chap[458] or ca\u2019,\n But set his bent bow till his breast,\n An\u2019 lightly lap\u2019 the wa\u2019;\n An\u2019, or the porter was at the gate,\n The boy was i\u2019 the ha\u2019.\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018O is my biggins[459] broken, boy?\n Or is my towers won?\n Or is my lady lighter yet,\n Of a dear daughter or son?\u2019--\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018Your biggin is na broken, sir,\n Nor is your towers won;\n But the fairest lady in a\u2019 the land\n For you this day maun burn.\u2019--\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018O saddle me the black, the black,\n Or saddle me the brown;\n O saddle me the swiftest steed\n That ever rade frae a town!\u2019\n\n XXVII\n\n Or he was near a mile awa\u2019,\n She heard his wild horse sneeze:\n \u2018Mend up the fire, my false brother,\n It\u2019s na come to my knees.\u2019\n\n XXVIII\n\n O whan he lighted at the gate,\n She heard his bridle ring;\n \u2018Mend up the fire, my false brother,\n It\u2019s far yet frae my chin.\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018Mend up the fire to me, brother,\n Mend up the fire to me;\n For I see him comin\u2019 hard an\u2019 fast,\n Will soon mend it up to thee.\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018O gin my hands had been loose, Willy,\n Sae hard as they are boun\u2019,\n I would have turn\u2019d me frae the gleed[460],\n And casten out your young son.\u2019--\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018O I\u2019ll gar burn for you, Maisry,\n Your father an\u2019 your mother;\n An\u2019 I\u2019ll gar burn for you, Maisry,\n Your sister an\u2019 your brother.\n\n XXXII\n\n \u2018An\u2019 I\u2019ll gar burn for you, Maisry,\n The chief of a\u2019 your kin;\n An\u2019 the last bonfire that I come to,\n Mysel\u2019 I will cast in.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[455] aught = owed.\n\n[456] forlorn = lost to you.\n\n[457] baed = abode, tarried.\n\n[458] chap = knock.\n\n[459] biggins = buildings.\n\n[460] gleed = glowing fire, embers.\n\n\n\n\n_74. Bonny Bee Ho\u2019m_\n\n\n I\n\n By Arthur\u2019s Dale as late I went\n I heard a heavy moan;\n I heard a ladie lamenting sair,\n And ay she cried \u2018Ohone!\n\n II\n\n \u2018Ohone, alas! what shall I do,\n Tormented night and day!\n I never loved a love but ane,\n And now he\u2019s gone away.\n\n III\n\n \u2018But I will do for my true-love\n What ladies wou\u2019d think sair;\n For seven year shall come and go\n Ere a kaim[461] gang in my hair.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018There shall neither a shoe gang on my foot,\n Nor a kaim gang in my hair,\n Nor e\u2019er a coal nor candle-light\n Shine in my bower nae mair.\u2019\n\n V\n\n She thought her love had been on the sea,\n Fast sailing to Bee Ho\u2019m;\n But he was in a quiet cham\u2019er[462],\n Hearing his ladie\u2019s moan.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Be husht, be husht, my ladie dear,\n I pray thee mourn not so;\n For I am deep sworn on a book\n To Bee Ho\u2019m for to go.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n She has gien him a chain of the beaten gowd,\n And a ring with a ruby stone:\n \u2018As lang as this chain your body binds,\n Your blude can never be drawn.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018But gin this ring shou\u2019d fade or fail,\n Or the stone shou\u2019d change its hue,\n Be sure your love is dead and gone,\n Or she has proved untrue.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n He had no been at Bonny Bee Ho\u2019m\n A twelve month and a day,\n Till, looking on his gay gowd ring,\n The stone grew dark and gray.\n\n X\n\n \u2018O ye take my riches to Bee Ho\u2019m,\n And deal them presentlie,\n To the young that canna, the auld that maunna,\n And the blind that does not see.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Fight on, fight on, my merry men all!\n With you I\u2019ll fight no more;\n But I will gang to some holy place\n And pray to the King of Glore[463].\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[461] kaim = comb.\n\n[462] cham\u2019er = chamber.\n\n[463] Glore = Glory.\n\n\n\n\n_75. Sir Patrick Spens_\n\n\n I. _The Sailing._\n\n I\n\n The king sits in Dunfermline town\n Drinking the blude-red wine;\n \u2018O whare will I get a skeely[464] skipper\n To sail this new ship o\u2019 mine?\u2019\n\n II\n\n O up and spak an eldern knight,\n Sat at the king\u2019s right knee:\n \u2018Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor\n That ever sail\u2019d the sea.\u2019\n\n III\n\n Our king has written a braid letter,\n And seal\u2019d it with his hand,\n And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens,\n Was walking on the strand.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018To Noroway, to Noroway,\n To Noroway o\u2019er the faem;\n The king\u2019s daughter o\u2019 Noroway,\n \u2019Tis thou must bring her hame.\u2019\n\n V\n\n The first word that Sir Patrick read\n So loud, loud laugh\u2019d he;\n The neist word that Sir Patrick read\n The tear blinded his e\u2019e.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018O wha is this has done this deed\n And tauld the king o\u2019 me,\n To send us out, at this time o\u2019 year,\n To sail upon the sea?\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail, be it sleet,\n Our ship must sail the faem;\n The king\u2019s daughter o\u2019 Noroway,\n \u2019Tis we must fetch her hame.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn\n Wi\u2019 a\u2019 the speed they may;\n They hae landed in Noroway\n Upon a Wodensday.\n\n\n _II. The Return._\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Mak ready, mak ready, my merry men a\u2019!\n Our gude ship sails the morn.\u2019--\n \u2018Now ever alack, my master dear,\n I fear a deadly storm.\n\n X\n\n \u2018I saw the new moon late yestreen\n Wi\u2019 the auld moon in her arm;\n And if we gang to sea, master,\n I fear we\u2019ll come to harm.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n They hadna sail\u2019d a league, a league,\n A league but barely three,\n When the lift[465] grew dark, and the wind blew loud,\n And gurly grew the sea.\n\n XII\n\n The ankers brak, and the topmast lap[466],\n It was sic a deadly storm:\n And the waves cam owre the broken ship\n Till a\u2019 her sides were torn.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018O where will I get a gude sailor\n To tak\u2019 my helm in hand,\n Till I get up to the tall topmast\n To see if I can spy land?\u2019--\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018O here am I, a sailor gude,\n To tak\u2019 the helm in hand,\n Till you go up to the tall topmast,\n But I fear you\u2019ll ne\u2019er spy land.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n He hadna gane a step, a step,\n A step but barely ane,\n When a bolt flew out of our goodly ship,\n And the saut sea it came in.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018Go fetch a web o\u2019 the silken claith,\n Another o\u2019 the twine,\n And wap[467] them into our ship\u2019s side,\n And let nae the sea come in.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n They fetch\u2019d a web o\u2019 the silken claith,\n Another o\u2019 the twine,\n And they wapp\u2019d them round that gude ship\u2019s side,\n But still the sea came in.\n\n XVIII\n\n O laith, laith were our gude Scots lords\n To wet their cork-heel\u2019d shoon;\n But lang or a\u2019 the play was play\u2019d\n They wat their hats aboon.\n\n XIX\n\n And mony was the feather bed\n That flatter\u2019d[468] on the faem;\n And mony was the gude lord\u2019s son\n That never mair cam hame.\n\n XX\n\n O lang, lang may the ladies sit,\n Wi\u2019 their fans into their hand,\n Before they see Sir Patrick Spens\n Come sailing to the strand!\n\n XXI\n\n And lang, lang may the maidens sit\n Wi\u2019 their gowd kames[469] in their hair,\n A-waiting for their ain dear loves!\n For them they\u2019ll see nae mair.\n\n XXII\n\n Half-owre, half-owre to Aberdour,\n \u2019Tis fifty fathoms deep;\n And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens,\n Wi\u2019 the Scots lords at his feet!\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[464] skeely = skilful.\n\n[465] lift = sky.\n\n[466] lap = sprang.\n\n[467] wap = wrap.\n\n[468] flatter\u2019d = tossed afloat.\n\n[469] kames = combs.\n\n\n\n\n_76. The Lord of Lorn_\n\n\n I\n\n It was the worthy Lord of Lorn,\n He was a lord of high degree;\n And he has set his one young son\n To school, to learn civility.\n\n II\n\n He learn\u2019d more learning in one day\n Than other children did in three;\n And then bespake the schoolmaster,\n Unto the heir of Lorn said he:\n\n III\n\n \u2018In faith thou art the honestest boy\n That ere I blinkt on with mine e\u2019e;\n I think thou be some easterling born,\n The Holy Ghost it is with thee.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n He said he was no easterling born,\n The child thus answer\u2019d courteouslye:\n \u2018My father he is the Lord of Lorn,\n And I his one young son, perdie.\u2019\n\n V\n\n The schoolmaster turn\u2019d round about,\n His angry mind he could not \u2019swage;\n He marvell\u2019d the child could speak so wise,\n He being of so tender age.\n\n VI\n\n He girt the saddle to the steed,\n A golden bridle done him upon;\n He took his leave of his schoolfellows,\n And home this Child of Lorn has gone.\n\n VII\n\n And when he came to his father dear\n He kneel\u00e8d down upon his knee:\n \u2018God\u2019s blessing, father, I would ask,\n If Christ would grant you to give it me.\u2019--\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Now God thee bless, my son, my heir,\n His servant in heaven that thou may be!\n What tidings hast thou brought me, child?\n Thou art comen home so hastilye.\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Good tidings, father, I have you brought,\n Good tidings I hope it is to thee;\n There\u2019s never a book in all Scotland\n But I can read it tru\u00eblye.\u2019\n\n X\n\n A joy\u00e8d man his father was\n All in the place where he did stand:\n \u2018My son, thou shalt go into France,\n To learn the speeches of ilka land.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Who shall go with him?\u2019 said his lady;\n \u2018Husband, we have no more but he.\u2019--\n \u2018Madam,\u2019 he saith, \u2018my hend[470] steward,\n For he hath been true to you and me.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n She call\u2019d the steward to an account,\n A thousand pound she gave him anon;\n Says, \u2018Steward, I\u2019ll give thee as mickle more\n If thou be as good to my one son.\u2019--\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018If I be false unto my young lord,\n Then God be the like to me indeed!\u2019\n --So now to France they both are gone,\n And the God [of Heaven] be their good speed!\n\n XIV\n\n Over the sea into France land\n They had not been three weeks to an end,\n But meat and drink the child got none,\n Nor penny of money in purse to spend.\n\n XV\n\n The child ran to a river\u2019s side;\n He was fain to drink the water thin;\n And after follow\u2019d the false steward\n To drown the bonny boy therein.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018But nay, by Mary!\u2019 said the child,\n He ask\u00e8d mercy pitifullye;\n \u2018Good Steward, let me have my life,\n And all I have I will give to thee!\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n Mercy to him the steward did take,\n And pull\u2019d the child out o\u2019er the brim\n But, ever alack, the more pitye!\n He took his clothing even from him.\n\n XVIII\n\n Says, \u2018Do thou me off that velvet gown,\n The crimson hose beneath thy knee,\n And do me off thy cordinant[471] shoon\n That are buckled with the gold so free.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018Do thou me off thy satin doubl\u00e8t,\n Thy shirtband wrought wi\u2019 glisterin\u2019 gold,\n And do me off thy golden chain\n About thy neck with many a fold.\n\n XX\n\n \u2018And do me off thy velvet hat,\n With feather in it that is so fine;\n And all unto thy silken shirt,\n That\u2019s work\u2019d with many a golden seam.\u2019\n\n XXI\n\n But when the child was naked stript,\n With skin as white as the lily flow\u2019r,\n He might, for his body and his bewtie,\n Have been a princess\u2019 paramour.\n\n XXII\n\n He put him in an old kelter[472] coat,\n And hose of the same above the knee,\n And he bade him go to a shepherd\u2019s house,\n To tend sheep on a lonely lee.\n\n XXIII\n\n The child said, \u2018What shall be my name?\n Prithee, good Steward, tell to me.\u2019--\n \u2018Thy name shall be Poor Disaware,\n To tend sheep on a lonely lee.\u2019\n\n XXIV\n\n The child came to the shepherd\u2019s house--\n O Lord! he weep\u00e8d pitifullye--\n Says, \u2018Do you not want a servant-boy,\n To tend your sheep on a lonely lee?\u2019\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018I have no child,\u2019 the shepherd said,\n \u2018My boy, thou\u2019st tarry and dwell with me;\n My living, my house, but and my goods,\n I\u2019ll make thee heir of them all, perdie.\u2019\n\n XXVI\n\n And then bespake the shepherd\u2019s wife\n Unto the child so tenderlye:\n \u2018Thou must take the sheep and go to the field,\n And tend them upon the lonely lee.\u2019\n\n XXVII\n\n Now let us leave talk of the child\n That is tending sheep on the lonely lee,\n And we\u2019ll talk more of the false steward,\n Of him and of his treacherye.\n\n XXVIII\n\n He bought himself a suit of apparel\n That any lord might a-seem\u2019d to worn;\n He went a-wooing to the Duke\u2019s daughter,\n And call\u2019d himself the Lord of Lorn.\n\n XXIX\n\n The Duke he welcomed the [brisk] young lord\n With three baked stags and the Rhenish wine:\n If he had wist him the false steward,\n With the devil he\u2019d have bade him dine.\n\n XXX\n\n But when they were at supper set\n With dainty delicates that was there,\n The Duke said, \u2018If thou\u2019lt wed my daughter\n I\u2019ll give thee a thousand pound a year.\u2019\n\n XXXI\n\n Then hand in hand the steward her took,\n And plight that lady his troth alone,\n That she should be his married wife,\n And he would make her the Lady of Lorn.\n\n XXXII\n\n The lady would see the roebuck run\n Up hills and dales and the forest free,\n When she was \u2019ware of a shepherd\u2019s boy\n Was tending sheep on a lonely lee.\n\n XXXIII\n\n And ever he sigh\u2019d and made his moan\n [Unto himself] most pitifullye,\n \u2018My father is the Lord of Lorn,\n And knows not what\u2019s become of me!\u2019\n\n XXXIV\n\n O then bespake the lady gay\n And to her maid she spake anon,\n \u2018Go fetch me hither yon shepherd\u2019s boy:\n I\u2019ll know why he doth make his moan.\u2019\n\n XXXV\n\n But when he came to that lady fair\n He fell down low upon his knee;\n He was [of birth and] so brought up\n He needed not to learn courtesye.\n\n XXXVI\n\n \u2018What is thy name? Where wast thou born?\n For whose sake makest thou this moan?\u2019--\n \u2018I am Poor Disaware, in Scotland born,\n And I mourn one dead these years agone.\u2019--\n\n XXXVII\n\n \u2018Tell me [of Scotland], thou bonny child,\n Tell me the truth and do not lee:\n Knowest thou there the young Lord of Lorn?\n He is come into France a-wooing of me.\u2019--\n\n XXXVIII\n\n \u2018Yes, that I do, madam,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018I know that lord, yea, verilye;\n The Lord of Lorn is a worthy lord,\n If he were at home in his own countrye.\u2019--\n\n XXXIX\n\n \u2018Wilt leave thy sheep, thou bonny child,\n And come in service unto me?\u2019--\n \u2018[I thank you, madam]; yea, forsooth,\n And at your bidding I will be.\u2019\n\n XL\n\n When the steward look\u2019d upon the child\n He \u2019gan bewrail[473] him villainouslye:\n \u2018Where wast thou born, thou vagabone?\n Thou art a thief, I will prove thee.\u2019\n\n XLI\n\n \u2018Ha\u2019 done! ha\u2019 done!\u2019 said the lady gay,\n \u2018Peace, Lord of Lorn, I do pray thee!\n Without you bear him more good will,\n No favour will you get of me.\u2019\n\n XLII\n\n O then bespake the false steward,\n \u2018Believe me or no, I tell to thee,\n At Aberdonie, beyond the seas,\n His father robb\u00e8d thousands three.\u2019\n\n XLIII\n\n But then bespake the Duke of France\n (The child was pleasant to his e\u2019e),\n Says, \u2018Boy, if thou love horses well,\n My groom of stables thou shalt be.\u2019\n\n XLIV\n\n The child applied his office so well\n Till that twelve months drew to an end;\n He was so courteous and so true\n That every man became his friend.\n\n XLV\n\n He led a gelding forth one morning,\n To water him at the water so free--\n The gelding up, and with his head\n He hit the child above the e\u2019e.\n\n XLVI\n\n \u2018Woe worth thee, gelding!\u2019 said the child,\n \u2018Woe worth the mare that foal\u00e8d thee!\n Thou little knowest the Lord of Lorn:\n Thou\u2019st stricken a lord of high degree.\u2019\n\n XLVII\n\n The lady was in her garden green,\n And heard the child that made this moan:\n All weeping [straight] she ran to him\n And left her maidens all alone.\n\n XLVIII\n\n \u2018Sing on thy song, thou stable groom,\n I will release thee of thy pain.\u2019--\n \u2018Nay, lady, I have made an oath;\n I dare not tell my tale again.\u2019--\n\n XLIX\n\n \u2018Sing on thy song, then, to thy gelding,\n And so thy oath shall sav\u00e8d be.\u2019--\n But when he told his horse the tale,\n O the lady wept full tenderlye.\n\n L\n\n She sent in for her father the Duke:\n \u2018O sick I am, and like to dee!\n Put off my wedding, father,\u2019 she said,\n \u2018For the love of God, these month\u00ebs three.\u2019\n\n LI\n\n The lady she did write a letter\n Full speedily with her own hand;\n She has sent it to the Lord of Lorn\n Wheras he dwelt in fair Scotland.\n\n LII\n\n When the Lord of Lorn had read the letter\n His lady wept, Lord! bitterlye;\n \u2018Peace, Lady of Lorn, for Christ his love!\n And wroken[474] upon him I will be.\u2019\n\n LIII\n\n The old lord call\u2019d up his merry men,\n And all that he gave cloth and fee,\n With seven lords to ride beside him,\n And into the land of France rides he.\n\n LIV\n\n The wind was good, and they did sail\n Five hundred men into France land,\n Till they were \u2019ware of the Heir of Lorn,\n Stood with a porter\u2019s staff in \u2019s hand.\n\n LV\n\n The lords then cast their hats into air,\n The serving-men fell on their knee.\n \u2018What fools be yonder,\u2019 said the steward,\n \u2018That makes the porter courtesye?\u2019\n\n LVI\n\n \u2018Thou\u2019rt a false thief,\u2019 said the Lord of Lorn,\n \u2018[This child, thy master] to betray!\u2019\n And they set the castle round about,\n A swallow could not have flown away.\n\n LVII\n\n And when they had taken the false steward,\n By the law of France all hastilye\n A quest of lords there chosen was\n That judged this traitor he must dee.\n\n LVIII\n\n First they took him and hang\u2019d him half,\n And then they lat him down anon,\n And quarter\u2019d and put him in boiling lead,\n And there he was sodden, breast and bone.\n\n LIX\n\n O then bespake the Lord of Lorn,\n With many other lord\u00ebs mo,\n \u2018Sir Duke, if you be as willing as we,\n We\u2019ll have a marriage before we go.\u2019\n\n LX\n\n But then bespake the Duke of France,\n Unto the Child of Lorn right there:\n Says, \u2018Heir of Lorn, if thou\u2019lt marry my daughter,\n I\u2019ll mend thy living a thousand a year.\u2019\n\n LXI\n\n But then bespake that Child of Lorn,\n And answer\u2019d the Duke right merrilye:\n \u2018I had rather have her with a ring of gold\n Than all the gold you can proffer to me.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[470] hend = courteous.\n\n[471] cordinant = of Cordovan leather.\n\n[472] kelter = of undyed wool.\n\n[473] bewrail = rail at.\n\n[474] wroken = revenged.\n\n\n\n\n_77. Edom o\u2019 Gordon_\n\n\n I\n\n It fell about the Martinmas,\n When the wind blew shrill and cauld,\n Said Edom o\u2019 Gordon to his men,\n \u2018We maun draw to a hauld[475].\n\n II\n\n \u2018And what a hauld sall we draw to,\n My merry men and me?\n We will gae to the house o\u2019 the Rodes,\n To see that fair ladye.\u2019\n\n III\n\n The lady stood on her castle wa\u2019,\n Beheld baith dale and down;\n There she was \u2019ware of a host of men\n Cam\u2019 riding towards the town[476].\n\n IV\n\n \u2018O see ye not, my merry men a\u2019,\n O see ye not what I see?\n Methinks I see a host of men;\n I marvel wha they be.\u2019\n\n V\n\n She ween\u2019d it had been her lovely lord,\n As he cam riding hame;\n It was the traitor, Edom o\u2019 Gordon,\n Wha reck\u2019d nae sin nor shame.\n\n VI\n\n She had nae sooner buskit[477] hersell,\n And putten on her gown,\n But Edom o\u2019 Gordon an\u2019 his men\n Were round about the town.\n\n VII\n\n They had nae sooner supper set,\n Nae sooner said the grace,\n But Edom o\u2019 Gordon an\u2019 his men\n Were lighted about the place.\n\n VIII\n\n The lady ran up to her tower-head,\n Sae fast as she could hie,\n To see if by her fair speeches\n She could wi\u2019 him agree.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Come doun to me, ye lady gay,\n Come doun, come doun to me;\n This night sall ye lig within mine arms,\n To-morrow my bride sall be.\u2019--\n\n X\n\n \u2018I winna come down, ye fals Gordon,\n I winna come down to thee;\n I winna forsake my ain dear lord,\n That is sae far frae me.\u2019--\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Gie owre your house, ye lady fair,\n Gie owre your house to me;\n Or I sall brenn yoursel\u2019 therein,\n But and your babies three.\u2019--\n\n XII\n\n \u2018I winna gie owre, ye fals Gordon,\n To nae sic traitor as yee;\n And if ye brenn my ain dear babes,\n My lord sall make ye dree[478].\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018Now reach my pistol, Glaud, my man,\n And charge ye weel my gun;\n For, but an I pierce that bluidy butcher,\n My babes, we been undone!\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n She stood upon her castle wa\u2019,\n And let twa bullets flee:\n She miss\u2019d that bluidy butcher\u2019s heart,\n And only razed his knee.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Set fire to the house!\u2019 quo\u2019 fals Gordon,\n All wud[479] wi\u2019 dule and ire:\n \u2018Fals lady, ye sall rue this deid\n As ye brenn in the fire!\u2019--\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018Wae worth, wae worth ye, Jock, my man!\n I paid ye weel your fee;\n Why pu\u2019 ye out the grund-wa\u2019[480] stane,\n Lets in the reek to me?\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018And e\u2019en wae worth ye, Jock, my man!\n I paid ye weel your hire;\n Why pu\u2019 ye out the grund-wa\u2019 stane,\n To me lets in the fire?\u2019--\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018Ye paid me weel my hire, ladye,\n Ye paid me weel my fee:\n But now I\u2019m Edom o\u2019 Gordon\u2019s man,\n Maun either do or dee.\u2019\n\n XIX\n\n O then bespake her little son,\n Sat on the nurse\u2019s knee:\n Says, \u2018Mither dear, gie owre this house,\n For the reek it smithers me.\u2019--\n\n XX\n\n \u2018I wad gie a\u2019 my gowd, my bairn,\n Sae wad I a\u2019 my fee,\n For ae blast o\u2019 the western wind,\n To blaw the reek frae thee.\u2019\n\n XXI\n\n O then bespake her dochter dear--\n She was baith jimp[481] and sma\u2019:\n \u2018O row[482] me in a pair o\u2019 sheets,\n And tow me owre the wa\u2019!\u2019\n\n XXII\n\n They row\u2019d her in a pair o\u2019 sheets,\n And tow\u2019d her owre the wa\u2019;\n But on the point o\u2019 Gordon\u2019s spear\n She gat a deadly fa\u2019.\n\n XXIII\n\n O bonnie, bonnie was her mouth,\n And cherry were her cheiks,\n And clear, clear was her yellow hair,\n Whereon the red blood dreips.\n\n XXIV\n\n Then wi\u2019 his spear he turn\u2019d her owre;\n O gin her face was wane!\n He said, \u2018Ye are the first that e\u2019er\n I wish\u2019d alive again.\u2019\n\n XXV\n\n He turn\u2019d her owre and owre again;\n O gin her skin was white!\n \u2018I might hae spared that bonnie face\n To hae been some man\u2019s delight.\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018Busk and boun[483], my merry men a\u2019,\n For ill dooms I do guess;\n I canna look in that bonnie face\n As it lies on the grass.\u2019--\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018Wha looks to freits[484], my master dear,\n It\u2019s freits will follow them;\n Let it ne\u2019er be said that Edom o\u2019 Gordon\n Was daunted by a dame.\u2019\n\n XXVIII\n\n But when the lady saw the fire\n Come flaming owre her head,\n She wept, and kiss\u2019d her children twain,\n Says, \u2018Bairns, we been but dead.\u2019\n\n XXIX\n\n The Gordon then his bugle blew,\n And said, \u2018Awa\u2019, awa\u2019!\n This house o\u2019 the Rodes is a\u2019 in a flame;\n I hauld it time to ga\u2019.\u2019\n\n XXX\n\n And this way lookit her ain dear lord,\n As he cam owre the lea;\n He saw his castle a\u2019 in a lowe[485],\n As far as he could see.\n\n XXXI\n\n Then sair, O sair, his mind misgave,\n And all his heart was wae:\n \u2018Put on, put on, my wighty[486] men,\n Sae fast as ye can gae.\n\n XXXII\n\n \u2018Put on, put on, my wighty men,\n Sae fast as ye can drie!\n For he that\u2019s hindmost o\u2019 the thrang\n Sall ne\u2019er get good o\u2019 me.\u2019\n\n XXXIII\n\n Then some they rade, and some they ran,\n Out-owre the grass and bent;\n But ere the foremost could win up,\n Baith lady and babes were brent.\n\n XXXIV\n\n And after the Gordon he is gane,\n Sae fast as he might drie;\n And soon i\u2019 the Gordon\u2019s foul heart\u2019s blude\n He\u2019s wroken[487] his dear ladye.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[475] hauld = place of shelter.\n\n[476] town = stead.\n\n[477] buskit = attired.\n\n[478] dree = suffer.\n\n[479] wud = mad.\n\n[480] grund-wa\u2019 = ground-wall.\n\n[481] jimp = slender, trim.\n\n[482] row = wrap.\n\n[483] Busk and boun = trim up and prepare to go.\n\n[484] freits = ill omen.\n\n[485] lowe = flame.\n\n[486] wighty = sturdy, active.\n\n[487] wroken = avenged.\n\n\n\n\n_78. Lamkin_\n\n\n I\n\n It\u2019s Lamkin was a mason good\n As ever built wi\u2019 stane;\n He built Lord Wearie\u2019s castle,\n But payment got he nane.\n\n II\n\n \u2018O pay me, Lord Wearie,\n Come, pay to me my fee.\u2019--\n \u2018I canna pay you, Lamkin,\n For I maun gang o\u2019er the sea.\u2019--\n\n III\n\n \u2018O pay me now, Lord Wearie,\n Come, pay me out o\u2019 hand.\u2019--\n \u2018I canna pay you, Lamkin,\n Unless I sell my land.\u2019--\n\n IV\n\n \u2018O gin ye winna pay me,\n I here sall mak\u2019 a vow\n Before that ye come hame again,\n Ye sall hae cause to rue.\u2019\n\n V\n\n Lord Wearie got a bonny ship,\n To sail the saut sea faem;\n Bade his lady weel the castle keep,\n Ay till he should come hame.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Gae bar the doors,\u2019 the lady said,\n \u2018Gae well the windows pin;\n And what care I for Lamkin\n Or any of his gang?\u2019\n\n VII\n\n But the nourice was a fause limmer[488]\n As e\u2019er hung on a tree;\n She laid a plot wi\u2019 Lamkin,\n Whan her lord was o\u2019er the sea.\n\n VIII\n\n She laid a plot wi\u2019 Lamkin,\n When the servants were awa\u2019,\n Loot him in at a little shot-window[489],\n And brought him to the ha\u2019.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018O whare\u2019s a\u2019 the men o\u2019 this house,\n That ca\u2019 me the Lamkin?\u2019--\n \u2018They\u2019re at the barn-well thrashing;\n \u2019Twill be lang ere they come in.\u2019--\n\n X\n\n \u2018And whare\u2019s the women o\u2019 this house,\n That ca\u2019 me the Lamkin?\u2019--\n \u2018They\u2019re at the far well washing;\n \u2019Twill be lang ere they come in.\u2019--\n\n XI\n\n \u2018And whare\u2019s the bairns o\u2019 this house,\n That ca\u2019 me the Lamkin?\u2019--\n \u2018They\u2019re at the school reading;\n \u2019Twill be night or they come hame.\u2019--\n\n XII\n\n \u2018O whare\u2019s the lady o\u2019 this house,\n That ca\u2019s me the Lamkin?\u2019--\n \u2018She\u2019s up in her bower sewing,\n But we soon can bring her down.\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n Then Lamkin\u2019s tane a sharp knife,\n That hung down by his gare[490],\n And he has gi\u2019en the bonny babe\n A deep wound and a sair.\n\n XIV\n\n Then Lamkin he rock\u00e8d,\n And the fause nourice sang,\n Till frae ilka bore[491] o\u2019 the cradle\n The red blood out sprang.\n\n XV\n\n Then out it spak\u2019 the lady,\n As she stood on the stair:\n \u2018What ails my bairn, nourice,\n That he\u2019s greeting[492] sae sair?\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018O still my bairn, nourice,\n O still him wi\u2019 the pap!\u2019--\n \u2018He winna still, lady,\n For this nor for that.\u2019--\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018O still my bairn, nourice,\n O still him wi\u2019 the wand!\u2019--\n \u2018He winna still, lady,\n For a\u2019 his father\u2019s land.\u2019--\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018O still my bairn, nourice,\n O still him wi\u2019 the bell!\u2019--\n \u2018He winna still, lady,\n Till ye come down yoursel\u2019.\u2019--\n\n XIX\n\n O the firsten step she steppit,\n She steppit on a stane;\n But the neisten step she steppit,\n She met him Lamkin.\n\n XX\n\n \u2018O mercy, mercy, Lamkin,\n Hae mercy upon me!\n Though you hae ta\u2019en my young son\u2019s life,\n Ye may let mysel\u2019 be.\u2019--\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018O sall I kill her, nourice,\n Or sall I lat her be?\u2019--\n \u2018O kill her, kill her, Lamkin,\n For she ne\u2019er was good to me.\u2019--\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018O scour the bason, nourice,\n And mak\u2019 it fair and clean,\n For to keep this lady\u2019s heart\u2019s blood,\n For she\u2019s come o\u2019 noble kin.\u2019--\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018There need nae bason, Lamkin,\n Lat it run through the floor;\n What better is the heart\u2019s blood\n O\u2019 the rich than o\u2019 the poor?\u2019\n\n XXIV\n\n But ere three months were at an end,\n Lord Wearie came again;\n But dowie[493], dowie was his heart\n When first he came hame.\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018O wha\u2019s blood is this,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018That lies in the cham\u2019er[494]?\u2019--\n \u2018It is your lady\u2019s heart\u2019s blood;\n \u2019Tis as clear as the lamer[495].\u2019--\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018And wha\u2019s blood is this,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018That lies in my ha\u2019?\u2019--\n \u2018It is your young son\u2019s heart\u2019s blood;\n \u2019Tis the clearest ava\u2019[496].\u2019\n\n XXVII\n\n O sweetly sang the black-bird\n That sat upon the tree;\n But sairer grat Lamkin,\n When he was condemn\u2019d to dee.\n\n XXVIII\n\n And bonny sang the mavis\n Out o\u2019 the thorny brake;\n But sairer grat the nourice,\n When she was tied to the stake.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[488] limmer = wretch, jade.\n\n[489] shot-window = a window opening on a hinge.\n\n[490] gare = a seam of the skirt.\n\n[491] bore = hole, crevice.\n\n[492] greeting = wailing, crying.\n\n[493] dowie = heavy, sorrowful.\n\n[494] cham\u2019er = chamber.\n\n[495] lamer = amber.\n\n[496] ava\u2019 = of all.\n\n\n\n\n_79. Hugh of Lincoln_\n\n_and The Jew\u2019s Daughter_\n\n\n I\n\n A\u2019 the boys of merry Lincoln\n Were playing at the ba\u2019[497],\n And by it came him sweet Sir Hugh,\n And he play\u2019d o\u2019er them a\u2019.\n\n II\n\n He kick\u2019d the ba\u2019 with his right foot,\n And catch\u2019d it wi\u2019 his knee,\n And thro\u2019-and-thro\u2019 the Jew\u2019s window\n He gar\u2019d the bonny ba\u2019 flee.\n\n III\n\n He\u2019s doen[498] him to the Jew\u2019s castell,\n And walk\u2019d it round about;\n And there he saw the Jew\u2019s daughter\n At the window looking out.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018Throw down the ba\u2019, ye Jew\u2019s daughter,\n Throw down the ba\u2019 to me!\u2019--\n \u2018Never a bit,\u2019 says the Jew\u2019s daughter,\n \u2018Till up to me come ye.\u2019--\n\n V\n\n \u2018How will I come up? How can I come up?\n How can I come up to thee?\n I winna come up, I darena come up,\n Without my play-feres[499] three.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n She\u2019s ta\u2019en her to the Jew\u2019s garden,\n Where the grass grew long and green,\n She\u2019s pu\u2019d an apple red and white\n To wyle the pretty boy in.\n\n VII\n\n She\u2019s wyled him in through ae dark door,\n And sae has she through nine;\n She\u2019s laid him on a dressing table,\n And stickit him like a swine.\n\n VIII\n\n And first came out the thick, thick blood,\n And syne came out the thin,\n And syne came out the bonny heart\u2019s blood;\n There was no more within.\n\n IX\n\n She\u2019s row\u2019d[500] him in a cake o\u2019 lead,\n Bade him lie still and sleep;\n She\u2019s thrown him into Our Lady\u2019s draw-well,\n Was fifty fathom deep.\n\n X\n\n When bells were rung, and mass was sung,\n And a\u2019 the bairns came hame,\n Then every lady had hame her son,\n But Lady Helen had nane.\n\n XI\n\n She\u2019s ta\u2019en her mantle her about,\n Her coffer by the hand,\n And she\u2019s gone out to seek her son,\n And wander\u2019d o\u2019er the land.\n\n XII\n\n She\u2019s doen her to the Jew\u2019s castell\n Where a\u2019 were fast asleep;\n Cries, \u2018Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh,\n I pray you to me speak!\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n She near\u2019d Our Lady\u2019s deep draw-well,\n And fell down on her knee:\n \u2018Where\u2019er ye be, my sweet Sir Hugh,\n I pray you speak to me!\u2019--\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018O the lead is wondrous heavy, mother,\n The well is wondrous deep;\n The little penknife sticks in my throat,\n And I downa[501] to ye speak.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Gae hame, gae hame, my mither dear,\n Prepare my winding sheet,\n And at the back o\u2019 merry Lincoln\n The morn I will you meet.\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n Now Lady Helen is gane hame,\n Made him a winding sheet,\n And at the back o\u2019 merry Lincoln\n The dead corpse did her meet.\n\n XVII\n\n And a\u2019 the bells o\u2019 merry Lincoln\n Without men\u2019s hands were rung;\n And a\u2019 the books o\u2019 merry Lincoln\n Were read without man\u2019s tongue;\n And never was such a burial\n Sin\u2019 Adam\u2019s day begun.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[497] ba\u2019 = ball, football.\n\n[498] doen = betaken.\n\n[499] play-feres = playfellows.\n\n[500] row\u2019d = wrapped.\n\n[501] downa = cannot, have not the force to.\n\n\n\n\n_80. The Heir of Linne_\n\n\n I\n\n The bonny heir, and the well-faur\u2019d[502] heir,\n The weary heir o\u2019 Linne--\n Yonder he stands at his father\u2019s yetts[503],\n And naebody bids him in.\n\n II\n\n \u2018O see for he gangs, and see for he stands,\n The unthrifty heir o\u2019 Linne!\n O see for he stands on the cauld causey[504],\n And nane bids him come in!\u2019\n\n III\n\n His father and mother were dead him fro\u2019,\n And so was the head o\u2019 his kin;\n To the cards and dice that he did run,\n Did neither cease nor blin[505].\n\n IV\n\n To drink the wine that was so clear\n With all he would mak\u2019 merrye;\n And then bespake him John o\u2019 the Scales,\n To the heir of Linne said he:\n\n V\n\n \u2018How doest thou, thou Lord of Linne\n Doest want or gold or fee?\n Wilt thou not sell thy lands so broad\n To such a good fellow as me?\u2019\n\n VI\n\n He told the gold upon the board,\n Wanted never a bare pennye:\n \u2018The gold is thine, the land is mine,\n The heir of Linne I will be.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Here\u2019s gold enow,\u2019 saith the heir of Linne,\n \u2018For me and my companye.\u2019\n He drank the wine that was so clear,\n And with all he made merrye.\n\n VIII\n\n Within three quarters of a year\n His gold it wax\u00e8d thin;\n His merry men were from him gone,\n Bade him, \u2018To the de\u2019il ye\u2019se gang!\u2019\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Now well-a-day!\u2019 said the heir of Linne,\n \u2018I have left not one pennye.\n God be with my father!\u2019 he said,\n \u2018On his land he lived merrilye.\u2019\n\n X\n\n His nourice at her window look\u2019d,\n Beholding dale and down,\n And she beheld this distress\u2019d young man\n Come walking to the town.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018O see for he gangs, and see for he stands,\n The weary heir o\u2019 Linne!\n O see for he stands on the cauld causey,\n And nane bids him come in!\u2019--\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Sing owre again that sang, nourice,\n The sang ye sung just now.\u2019--\n \u2018I never sung a sang i\u2019 my life\n But I would sing owre to you.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018Come here, come here, Willy,\u2019 she said,\n \u2018And rest yoursel\u2019 wi\u2019 me;\n I hae seen you in better days,\n And in jovial companye.\u2019--\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018Gie me a sheave[506] o\u2019 your bread, nourice,\n And a bottle o\u2019 your wine,\n And I will pay it you owre again\n When I am Lord of Linne.\u2019--\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Ye\u2019se get a sheave o\u2019 my bread, Willy,\n And a bottle o\u2019 my wine;\n But ye\u2019ll pay me when the seas gang dry,\n For ye\u2019ll ne\u2019er be Lord o\u2019 Linne.\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n Then he turn\u2019d him right and round about,\n As will a woman\u2019s son,\n And aff he set and bent his way\n And cam\u2019 to the house o\u2019 Linne.\n\n XVII\n\n But when he cam\u2019 to that castle,\n They were set down to dine;\n A score of nobles there he saw,\n Sat drinking at their wine.\n\n XVIII\n\n Then some bade gie him beef and fish,\n And some but bane and fin,\n And some bade gie him naething at a\u2019,\n But let the palmer gang.\n\n XIX\n\n Then out it speaks him John o\u2019 Scales,\n A saucy word spak\u2019 he:\n \u2018Put round the cup, give the beggar a sup,\n Let him fare on his way.\u2019\n\n XX\n\n Then out it speaks Sir Ned Magnew,\n Ane o\u2019 young Willy\u2019s kin:\n \u2018This youth was ance a sprightly boy\n As ever lived in Linne.\u2019\n\n XXI\n\n He turn\u2019d him right and round about,\n As will a woman\u2019s son,\n Then minded him on a little wee key\n That his mother left to him.\n\n XXII\n\n His mother left him this little wee key\n A little before she deed;\n And bade him keep this little wee key\n Till he was in maist need.\n\n XXIII\n\n Then forth he went, these nobles left\n All drinking in the room;\n Wi\u2019 walking rod intill his hand\n He walk\u2019d the castle roun\u2019:\n\n XXIV\n\n Till that he found a little door,\n And therein slipp\u2019d the key;\n And there he found three chests in fere[507]\n Of the red and the white monie.\n\n XXV\n\n Back then through the nobles a\u2019\n He went and did not blin,\n Until he cam\u2019 where John o\u2019 the Scales\n Was seated [at the wine].\n\n XXVI\n\n Then out and spake it John o\u2019 Scales,\n He spake wi\u2019 mock and jeer:\n \u2018I\u2019d gie a seat to the Lord o\u2019 Linne\n If sae be that he were here.\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018When the lands o\u2019 Linne a-selling were\n A\u2019 men said they were free;\n I will sell them twenty pound better cheap\n Nor ever I bought of thee.\u2019--\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018I tak\u2019 ye to witness, nobles a\u2019!\u2019\n --He cast him a God\u2019s pennye[508]--\n \u2018I will buy them twenty pound better cheap\n Nor ever he bought of me.\u2019\n\n XXIX\n\n He\u2019s done him to the gaming-table,\n For it stood fair and clean;\n And there he\u2019s tould as much rich gold\n As free\u2019d the lands o\u2019 Linne.\n\n XXX\n\n He told the gold there over the board,\n Wanted never a broad pennye;\n \u2018The gold is thine, the land is mine,\n Lord o\u2019 Linne again I\u2019ll be.\u2019\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018Well-a-day!\u2019 said John o\u2019 the Scales\u2019 wife,\n \u2018Well-a-day, and woe is me!\n Yesterday I was the Lady o\u2019 Linne,\n And now I\u2019m a naebodye!\u2019\n\n XXXII\n\n But \u2018Fare thee well,\u2019 said the heir of Linne,\n \u2018Now John o\u2019 the Scales!\u2019 said he:\n \u2018A curse light on me if ever again\n My lands be in jeopardye!\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[502] well-faur\u2019d = well favoured.\n\n[503] yetts = gates.\n\n[504] causey = causeway, pavement.\n\n[505] blin = stint, check.\n\n[506] sheave = slice.\n\n[507] in fere = together.\n\n[508] God\u2019s pennye = earnest or luck-penny.\n\n\n\n\n_81. Fair Mary of Wallington_\n\n\n I\n\n When we were silly sisters seven,\n --Sisters were so fair,--\n Five of us were brave knights\u2019 wives,\n And died in childbed lair[509].\n\n II\n\n Up then spake Fair Mary,\n Marry wou\u2019d she nane;\n If ever she came in man\u2019s bed,\n The same gate[510] wad she gang.\n\n III\n\n \u2018Make no vows, Fair Mary,\n For fear they broken be;\n Here\u2019s been the Knight of Wallington,\n Asking good will of thee.\u2019--\n\n IV\n\n \u2018If here\u2019s been the knight, mother,\n Asking good will of me,\n Within three quarters of a year\n You may come bury me.\u2019\n\n V\n\n But when she came to Wallington,\n And into Wallington hall,\n There she spy\u2019d her [lord\u2019s] mother,\n Walking about the wall.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018You\u2019re welcome, welcome, daughter dear,\n To thy castle and thy bowers.\u2019--\n \u2018I thank you kindly, mother,\n I hope they\u2019ll soon be yours.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n She had not been in Wallington\n Three quarters and a day,\n Till upon the ground she could not walk,\n She was a weary prey.\n\n VIII\n\n She had not been in Wallington\n Three quarters and a night,\n Till on the ground she could not walk,\n She was a weary wight.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Is there ne\u2019er a boy into this town,\n Who\u2019ll win him hose and shoon,\n That will run to fair Paddington,\n And bid my mother come?\u2019\n\n X\n\n Up then spake a little boy,\n Near unto her a-kin:\n \u2018Full oft I have your errands gone,\n But now I will it run.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n Then she call\u2019d her waiting-maid\n To bring up bread and wine:\n \u2018Eat and drink, my bonny boy,\n Thou\u2019ll ne\u2019er eat more of mine.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Give my respects to my mother,\n She sits in her chair of stone,\n And ask her how she likes the news,\n Of seven to have but one?\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018Give my respects to my mother,\n As she sits in her chair of oak,\n And bid her come to my sickening,\n Or my merry lake-wake[511].\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018Give my love to my brothers\n William, Ralph, and John,\n And to my sister Betty fair,\n And to her white as bone:\n\n XV\n\n \u2018And bid her keep her maidenhead,\n Be sure [to keep it lang:]\n For if e\u2019er she come into man\u2019s bed,\n The same gate will she gang.\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n Away this little boy is gone,\n As fast as he could run;\n When he came where brigs were broke,\n He laid him down and swum.\n\n XVII\n\n When he saw the lady, he said,\n \u2018Lord may your keeper be!\u2019--\n \u2018What news, my pretty boy,\n Hast thou to tell to me?\u2019--\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018Your daughter Mary orders me\n As you sit in a chair of stone,\n To ask you how you like the news,\n Of seven to have but one?\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018Your daughter gives you her commands,\n As you sit in a chair of oak,\n And bids you come to her sickening,\n Or her merry lake-wake.\n\n XX\n\n \u2018She gives command to her brothers\n William, Ralph, and John,\n [And] to her sister Betty fair,\n And to her white as bone.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018She bids her keep her maidenhead,\n Be sure [to keep it lang:]\n For if e\u2019er she come into man\u2019s bed,\n The same gate will she gang.\u2019\n\n XXII\n\n She kickt the table with her foot,\n She kickt it with her knee,\n The silver plate into the fire,\n So far she made it flee.\n\n XXIII\n\n Then she call\u2019d her waiting-maid\n To bring her riding-hood,\n So did she on her stable-groom\n To bring her riding-steed.\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018Go saddle to me the black, the black,\n Go saddle to me the brown,\n Go saddle to me the swiftest steed\n That e\u2019er rid to Wallington!\u2019\n\n XXV\n\n When they came to Wallington,\n And into Wallington hall,\n There she spy\u2019d her son Fenwick,\n Walking about the wall.\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018God save you, my dearest son,\n Lord may your keeper be!\n Tell me where is my daughter fair,\n That used to walk with thee?\u2019\n\n XXVII\n\n He turn\u2019d his head him round about,\n The tears did fill his e\u2019e:\n \u2018\u2019Tis a month,\u2019 he said, \u2018since Fair Mary\n Took her chambers from me.\u2019\n\n XXVIII\n\n She went on [to her daughter\u2019s chamber];\n And there were in the hall\n Four and twenty ladies,\n Letting the tears down fall.\n\n XXIX\n\n Her daughter had a scope[512] into\n Her cheek and eke her chin,\n All to keep in her dear life\n Till her dear mother came.\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018Come take the rings off my fingers,\n The skin it is so white,\n And give them to my mother dear,\n For she was all the wyte[513].\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018Come take the rings off my fingers,\n The veins they are so red,\n Give them to Sir William Fenwick,\n I\u2019m sure his heart will bleed.\u2019\n\n XXXII\n\n Then she took out a razor\n That was both sharp and fine,\n And out of her left side she has taken\n The heir of Wallington.\n\n XXXIII\n\n There is a race in Wallington,\n And that I rue full sare;\n Tho\u2019 the cradle it be full spread up,\n The bride-bed is left bare.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[509] lair = lying-in.\n\n[510] gate = way.\n\n[511] lake-wake = lyke-wake, corpse-watching.\n\n[512] scope = bandage, gag.\n\n[513] wyte = blame, cause of trouble.\n\n\n\n\n_82. Young Waters_\n\n\n I\n\n About Yule, when the wind blew cule,\n And the round tables began,\n O there is come to our King\u2019s court\n Mony a well-favor\u2019d man.\n\n II\n\n The Queen luikt owre the castle-wa\u2019\n Beheld baith dale and down,\n And there she saw Young Waters\n Come riding to the town.\n\n III\n\n His footmen they did rin before,\n His horsemen rade behind;\n Ane mantel of the burning gowd\n Did keip him frae the wind.\n\n IV\n\n Gowden-graith\u2019d[514] his horse before,\n And siller-shod behind;\n The horse Young Waters rade upon\n Was fleeter than the wind.\n\n V\n\n Out then spak\u2019 a wylie lord,\n Unto the Queen said he:\n \u2018O tell me wha\u2019s the fairest face\n Rides in the company?\u2019--\n\n VI\n\n \u2018I\u2019ve sene lord, and I\u2019ve sene laird,\n And knights of high degree,\n Bot a fairer face than Young Waters\u2019\n Mine eyne did never see.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n Out then spake the jealous King,\n And an angry man was he:\n \u2018O if he had bin twice as fair,\n You micht have excepted me.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018You\u2019re neither laird nor lord,\u2019 she says,\n \u2018But the King that wears the crown;\n There is not a knight in fair Scotland\n But to thee maun bow down.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n For a\u2019 that she cou\u2019d do or say,\n Appeas\u2019d he wad nae bee,\n But for the words which she had said,\n Young Waters he maun dee.\n\n X\n\n They hae ta\u2019en Young Waters,\n And put fetters to his feet;\n They hae ta\u2019en Young Waters, and\n Thrown him in dungeon deep.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Aft have I ridden thro\u2019 Stirling town,\n In the wind but and the weet;\n But I neir rade thro\u2019 Stirling town\n Wi\u2019 fetters at my feet.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Aft have I ridden thro\u2019 Stirling town,\n In the wind but and the rain;\n But I neir rade thro\u2019 Stirling town\n Neir to return again.\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n They hae ta\u2019en to the heiding-hill[515]\n His young son in his craddle;\n And they hae ta\u2019en to the heiding-hill\n His horse but and his saddle.\n\n XIV\n\n They hae ta\u2019en to the heiding-hill\n His lady fair to see;\n And for the words the Queen had spoke\n Young Waters he did dee.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[514] graith\u2019d = harnessed.\n\n[515] heiding-hill = beheading mound.\n\n\n\n\n_83. The Queen\u2019s Marie_\n\n\n I\n\n Marie Hamilton\u2019s to the kirk gane,\n Wi\u2019 ribbons in her hair;\n The King thought mair o\u2019 Marie Hamilton\n Than ony that were there.\n\n II\n\n Marie Hamilton\u2019s to the kirk gane\n Wi\u2019 ribbons on her breast;\n The King thought mair o\u2019 Marie Hamilton\n Than he listen\u2019d to the priest.\n\n III\n\n Marie Hamilton\u2019s to the kirk gane,\n Wi\u2019 gloves upon her hands;\n The King thought mair o\u2019 Marie Hamilton\n Than the Queen and a\u2019 her lands.\n\n IV\n\n She hadna been about the King\u2019s court\n A month, but barely ane,\n Till she was beloved by a\u2019 the King\u2019s court,\n And the King the only man.\n\n V\n\n She hadna been about the King\u2019s court\n A month, but barely three,\n Till frae the King\u2019s court Marie Hamilton,\n Marie Hamilton durstna be.\n\n VI\n\n The King is to the Abbey gane,\n To pu\u2019 the Abbey tree,\n To scale[516] the babe frae Marie\u2019s heart;\n But the thing it wadna be.\n\n VII\n\n O she has row\u2019d[517] it in her apron,\n And set it on the sea--\n \u2018Gae sink ye or swim ye, bonny babe,\n Ye\u2019se get nae mair o\u2019 me.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n Word is to the kitchen gane,\n And word is to the ha\u2019,\n And word is to the noble room\n Amang the ladies a\u2019,\n That Marie Hamilton\u2019s brought to bed,\n And the bonny babe\u2019s miss\u2019d and awa\u2019.\n\n IX\n\n Scarcely had she lain down again,\n And scarcely fa\u2019en asleep,\n When up and started our gude Queen\n Just at her bed-feet;\n Saying--\u2018Marie Hamilton, where\u2019s your babe?\n For I am sure I heard it greet[518].\u2019--\n\n X\n\n \u2018O no, O no, my noble Queen!\n Think no sic thing to be;\n \u2019Twas but a stitch into my side,\n And sair it troubles me!\u2019--\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Get up, get up, Marie Hamilton:\n Get up and follow me;\n For I am going to Edinburgh town,\n A rich wedding for to see.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n O slowly, slowly rase she up,\n And slowly put she on;\n And slowly rade she out the way\n Wi\u2019 mony a weary groan.\n\n XIII\n\n The Queen was clad in scarlet,\n Her merry maids all in green;\n And every town that they cam to,\n They took Marie for the Queen.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018Ride hooly[519], hooly, gentlemen,\n Ride hooly now wi\u2019 me!\n For never, I am sure, a wearier burd\n Rade in your companie.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n But little wist Marie Hamilton,\n When she rade on the brown,\n That she was gaen to Edinburgh town,\n And a\u2019 to be put down.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018Why weep ye sae, ye burgess wives,\n Why look ye sae on me?\n O I am going to Edinburgh town,\n A rich wedd\u00ecng to see.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n When she gaed up the tolbooth stairs,\n The corks frae her heels did flee;\n And lang or e\u2019er she cam down again,\n She was condemn\u2019d to die.\n\n XVIII\n\n When she cam to the Netherbow port,\n She laugh\u2019d loud laughters three;\n But when she came to the gallows foot\n The tears blinded her e\u2019e.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018Yestreen the Queen had four Maries,\n The night she\u2019ll hae but three;\n There was Marie Seaton, and Marie Beaton,\n And Marie Carmichael, and me.\n\n XX\n\n \u2018O often have I dress\u2019d my Queen,\n And put gowd upon her hair;\n But now I\u2019ve gotten for my reward\n The gallows to be my share.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018Often have I dress\u2019d my Queen\n And often made her bed;\n But now I\u2019ve gotten for my reward\n The gallows tree to tread.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018I charge ye all, ye mariners,\n When ye sail owre the faem,\n Let neither my father nor mother get wit\n But that I\u2019m coming hame.\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018I charge ye all, ye mariners,\n That sail upon the sea,\n That neither my father nor mother get wit\n The dog\u2019s death I\u2019m to die.\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018For if my father and mother got wit,\n And my bold brethren three,\n O mickle wad be the gude red blude\n This day wad be spilt for me!\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018O little did my mother ken,\n The day she cradled me,\n The lands I was to travel in\n Or the death I was to die!\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[516] scale = drive away, get rid of.\n\n[517] row\u2019d = wrapped.\n\n[518] greet = wail, cry.\n\n[519] hooly = gently.\n\n\n\n\n_84. The Outlaw Murray_\n\n\n I\n\n Ettrick Forest is a fair forest,\n In it grows many a seemly tree;\n There\u2019s hart and hind, and dae and rae,\n And of a\u2019 wild beasts great plentie.\n\n II\n\n There\u2019s a castle, bigg\u2019d[520] wi\u2019 lime and stane;\n O gif it stands not pleasantlie!\n In the fore-front o\u2019 that castle fair,\n Twa unicorns are bra\u2019 to see;\n There\u2019s the picture of a knight, and a lady bright,\n And the green holl\u00ecn[521] abune their bree[522].\n\n III\n\n There an Outlaw keeps five hundred men,\n He keeps a royal companie,\n His merry men are a\u2019 in ae livery clad,\n O\u2019 the Lincoln green sae gay to see;\n He and his lady in purple clad,\n O gin they live not royallie!\n\n IV\n\n Word is gane to our noble King,\n In Edinburgh where that he lay,\n That there was an Outlaw in Ettrick Forest,\n Counted him nought, nor his courtrie[523] gay.\n\n V\n\n \u2018I make a vow,\u2019 then the gude King said,\n \u2018Unto the Man that dear bought me,\n I\u2019se either be King of Ettrick Forest,\n Or King of Scotland that Outlaw\u2019s be!\u2019\n\n VI\n\n Then spake the Earl hight Hamilton,\n And to the noble King said he,\n \u2018My sovereign prince, some counsel take,\n First at your nobles, syne at me.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018I rede[524] ye, send yon braw Outlaw till,\n And see gif your man come will he:\n Desire him come and be your man,\n And hold of you yon forest free.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Gif he refuses to do that,\n We\u2019ll conquess baith his lands and he!\n Or else we\u2019ll throw his castle down,\n And mak\u2019 a widow o\u2019 his gay ladye.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n The King call\u2019d on a gentleman,\n James Boyd (the Earl of Arran his brother was he);\n When James he came before the King,\n He kneel\u2019d before him on his knee.\n\n X\n\n \u2018Welcome, James Boyd!\u2019 said our noble King,\n \u2018A message ye maun gang for me:\n Ye maun hie to Ettrick Forest,\n To yon Outl\u00e0w, where dwelleth he.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Ask him of whom he holds his lands,\n Or man wha may his master be,\n And desire him come and be my man,\n And hold of me yon forest free.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018To Edinburgh to come and gang,\n A safe warr\u00e0nt I sall him gie;\n And gif he refuses to do that,\n We\u2019ll conquess baith his lands and he.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018Thou mayst vow I\u2019ll cast his castle down,\n And mak\u2019 a widow o\u2019 his gay ladye;\n I\u2019ll hang his merry men, pair by pair,\n In ony frith[525] where I may them see.\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n James Boyd took his leave o\u2019 the noble King,\n To Ettrick Forest fair cam\u2019 he;\n Down Birkendale Brae when that he cam\u2019,\n He saw the fair forest wi\u2019 his e\u2019e.\n\n XV\n\n Baith dae and rae, and hart and hin\u2019,\n And of a\u2019 wild beasts great plentie;\n He heard the bows that boldly ring,\n And arrows whidderand[526] him near by.\n\n XVI\n\n Of that fair castle he got a sight;\n The like he ne\u2019er saw wi\u2019 his e\u2019e!\n On the fore-front o\u2019 that castle fair,\n Twa unicorns were bra\u2019 to see;\n The picture of a knight, and lady bright,\n And the green holl\u00ecn abune their bree.\n\n XVII\n\n Thereat he spyed five hundred men,\n Shooting with bows on Newark Lee;\n They were a\u2019 in ae livery clad,\n O\u2019 the Lincoln green sae gay to see.\n\n XVIII\n\n His men were a\u2019 clad in the green,\n The knight was arm\u00e8d cap-a-pie,\n With a bended bow, on a milkwhite steed;\n And I wot they rank\u2019d right bonnilie.\n\n XIX\n\n Thereby Boyd kend he was master man,\n And serv\u00e8d him in his ain degree:\n \u2018God mote thee save, brave Outlaw Murray!\n Thy ladye, and all thy chivalrie!\u2019--\n \u2018Marry, thou\u2019s welcome, gentleman,\n Some king\u2019s messenger thou seems to be.\u2019--\n\n XX\n\n \u2018The King of Scotland sent me here,\n And, gude Outl\u00e0w, I am sent to thee;\n I wad wot of whom ye hold your lands,\n Or man wha may thy master be?\u2019--\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018Thir lands are mine,\u2019 the Outlaw said;\n \u2018I own nae king in Christentie;\n Frae Soudron[527] I this forest wan,\n When the King nor his knights were not to see.\u2019--\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018He desires you\u2019ll come to Edinburgh,\n And hauld of him this forest free;\n And, gif ye refuse to do this thing,\n He\u2019ll conquess baith thy lands and thee.\n He hath vow\u2019d to cast thy castle down,\n And mak\u2019 a widow o\u2019 thy gay ladye;\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018He\u2019ll hang thy merry men, pair by pair,\n In ony frith where he may them find.\u2019--\n \u2018Ay, by my troth!\u2019 the Outlaw said,\n \u2018Than wad I think me far behind.\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018Ere the King my fair country get,\n This land that\u2019s nativest to me,\n Mony o\u2019 his nobles sall be cauld,\n Their ladies sall be right wear\u00ede.\u2019\n\n XXV\n\n Then spak\u2019 his lady, fair of face:\n She said, \u2018\u2019Twere without consent of me,\n That an outlaw suld come before a King;\n I am right rad[528] of treasonrie.\n Bid him be gude to his lords at hame,\n For Edinburgh my lord sall never see.\u2019\n\n XXVI\n\n James Boyd took his leave o\u2019 the Outlaw keen,\n To Edinboro\u2019 boun\u2019 is he;\n When James he cam\u2019 before the King,\n He kneel\u00e8d lowly on his knee.\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018Welcome, James Boyd!\u2019 said our noble King,\n \u2018What forest is Ettrick Forest free?\u2019--\n \u2018Ettrick Forest is the fairest forest\n That ever man saw wi\u2019 his e\u2019e.\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018There\u2019s the dae, the rae, the hart, the hin\u2019,\n And of a\u2019 wild beasts great plentie;\n There\u2019s a pretty castle of lime and stane,\n O gif it stands not pleasantlie!\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018There\u2019s in the fore-front o\u2019 that castle\n Twa unicorns, sae bra\u2019 to see,\n There\u2019s the picture of a knight, and a lady bright,\n Wi\u2019 the green holl\u00ecn abune their bree.\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018There the Outlaw keeps five hundred men,\n He keeps a royal companie;\n His merry men in ae livery clad,\n O\u2019 the Lincoln green sae gay to see:\n He and his lady in purple clad;\n O gin they live not royallie!\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018He says, yon forest is his ain,\n He wan it frae the Soudronie;\n Sae as he wan it, sae will he keep it,\n Contrair all kings in Christentie.\u2019--\n\n XXXII\n\n \u2018Gar warn me Perthshire, and Angus baith,\n Fife, up and down, and Lothians three,\n And graith[529] my horse,\u2019 said our noble King,\n \u2018For to Ettrick Forest hie will I me.\u2019\n\n XXXIII\n\n Then word is gane the Outlaw till,\n In Ettrick Forest, where dwelleth he,\n That the King was comand to Ettrick Forest,\n To conquess baith his lands and he.\n\n XXXIV\n\n \u2018I mak\u2019 a vow,\u2019 the Outlaw said,\n \u2018I mak\u2019 a vow, and that trulie:\n Were there but three men to tak\u2019 my part,\n Yon King\u2019s coming full dear suld be!\u2019\n\n XXXV\n\n Then messengers he call\u00e8d forth,\n And bade them hie them speedilye:\n \u2018Ane of ye gae to Halliday,\n The Laird of the Corehead is he.\n\n XXXVI\n\n \u2018He certain is my sister\u2019s son;\n Bid him come quick and succour me;\n The King comes on for Ettrick Forest,\n And landless men we a\u2019 will be.\u2019--\n\n XXXVII\n\n \u2018What news? what news?\u2019 said Halliday,\n \u2018Man, frae thy master unto me?\u2019--\n \u2018Not as ye would; seeking your aid;\n The King\u2019s his mortal enemie.\u2019--\n\n XXXVIII\n\n \u2018Ay, by my troth!\u2019 said Hailiday,\n \u2018Even for that it repenteth me;\n For gif he lose fair Ettrick Forest,\n He\u2019ll tak\u2019 fair Moffatdale frae me.\n\n XXXIX\n\n \u2018I\u2019ll meet him wi\u2019 five hundred men,\n And surely mair, if mae may be;\n And before he gets the forest fair,\n We a\u2019 will die on Newark Lee!\u2019\n\n XL\n\n The Outlaw call\u2019d a messenger,\n And bid him hie him speedilye\n To Andrew Murray of Cockpool:\n \u2018That man\u2019s a dear cousin to me;\n Desire him come and mak\u2019 me aid\n With a\u2019 the power that he may be.\u2019\n\n XLI\n\n \u2018It stands me hard,\u2019 Andrew Murray said,\n \u2018Judge gif it stand na hard wi\u2019 me;\n To enter against a king wi\u2019 crown,\n And set my lands in jeopardie!\n Yet, if I come not on the day,\n Surely at night he sall me see.\u2019\n\n XLII\n\n To Sir James Murray of Traquair,\n A message came right speedilie:\n \u2018What news? what news?\u2019 James Murray said,\n \u2018Man, frae thy master unto me?\u2019--\n\n XLIII\n\n \u2018What needs I tell? for weel ye ken\n The King\u2019s his mortal enemie;\n And now he is coming to Ettrick Forest,\n And landless men ye a\u2019 will be.\u2019\n\n XLIV\n\n \u2018And, by my troth,\u2019 James Murray said,\n \u2018Wi\u2019 that Outlaw will I live and dee;\n The King has gifted my lands lang syne--\n It cannot be nae warse wi\u2019 me.\u2019\n\n XLV\n\n The King was comand thro\u2019 Cadden Ford,\n And full five thousand men was he;\n They saw the dark forest them before,\n They thought it awsome for to see.\n\n XLVI\n\n Then spak\u2019 the Earl hight Hamilton,\n And to the noble King said he,\n \u2018My sovereign prince, some counsel tak\u2019,\n First at your nobles, syne at me.\n\n XLVII\n\n \u2018Desire him meet thee at Permanscore,\n And bring four in his companie;\n Five earls sall gang yoursell before,\n Gude cause that you suld honour\u2019d be.\n\n XLVIII\n\n \u2018And, gif he refuses to do that,\n With fire and sword we\u2019ll follow thee;\n There sall never a Murray, after him,\n Hold land in Ettrick Forest free.\u2019\n\n XLIX\n\n The King then call\u2019d a gentleman,\n Royal banner-bearer there was he,\n James Hope Pringle of Torsonse by name;\n He cam\u2019 and kneel\u2019d upon his knee.\n\n L\n\n \u2018Welcome, James Pringle of Torsonse!\n A message ye maun gae for me:\n Ye maun gae to yon Outlaw Murray,\n Surely where boldly bideth he.\n\n LI\n\n \u2018Bid him meet me at Permanscore,\n And bring four in his companie;\n Five earls sall come mysell before,\n Gude reason I suld honour\u2019d be.\n\n LII\n\n \u2018And gif he refuses to do that,\n Bid him look for nae good o\u2019 me;\n There sall never a Murray, after him,\n Have land in Ettrick Forest free.\u2019\n\n LIII\n\n James cam\u2019 before the Outlaw keen,\n And serv\u00e8d him in his ain degree.--\n \u2018Welcome, James Pringle of Torsonse!\n What message frae the King to me?\u2019--\n\n LIV\n\n \u2018He bids ye meet him at Permanscore,\n And bring four in your company;\n Five earls shall gang himsell before,\n Nae mair in number will he be.\n\n LV\n\n \u2018And gif you refuse to do that,\n (I freely here upgive wi\u2019 thee,)\n He\u2019ll cast your bonny castle down,\n And mak\u2019 a widow o\u2019 your gay ladye.\n There will never a Murray, after thysell,\n Have land in Ettrick Forest free.\u2019--\n\n LVI\n\n \u2018It stands me hard,\u2019 the Outlaw said,\n \u2018Judge gif it stands na hard wi\u2019 me:\n What reck o\u2019 the losing of mysell?--\n But a\u2019 my offspring after me!\n\n LVII\n\n \u2018Auld Halliday, young Halliday,\n Ye sall be twa to gang wi\u2019 me;\n Andrew Murray, and Sir James Murray,\n We\u2019ll be nae mae in companie.\u2019\n\n LVIII\n\n When that they cam\u2019 before the King,\n They fell before him on their knee:\n \u2018Grant mercy, mercy, noble King!\n E\u2019en for his sake that dyed on tree.\u2019\n\n LIX\n\n \u2018Siccan[530] like mercy sall ye have;\n On gallows ye sall hangit be!\u2019--\n \u2018Over God\u2019s forbode,\u2019 quoth the Outlaw then,\n \u2018I hope your grace will better be!\n Else, ere you come to Edinburgh port,\n I trow thin guarded sall ye be.\n\n LX\n\n \u2018Thir lands of Ettrick Forest fair,\n I wan them from the enemie;\n Like as I wan them, sae will I keep them,\n Contrair a\u2019 kings in Christentie.\u2019\n\n LXI\n\n All the nobles the King about,\n Said pity it were to see him dee.\n \u2018Yet grant me mercy, sovereign prince,\n Extend your favour unto me!\n\n LXII\n\n \u2018I\u2019ll give thee the keys of my castell,\n Wi\u2019 the blessing o\u2019 my gay ladye,\n Gin thou\u2019lt make me sheriff of this forest,\n And a\u2019 my offspring after me.\u2019--\n\n LXIII\n\n \u2018Wilt thou give me the keys of thy castell,\n Wi\u2019 the blessing of thy gay ladye?\n I\u2019se make thee sheriff of Ettrick Forest,\n Surely while upward grows the tree;\n If you be not traitor to the King,\n Forfaulted[531] sall thou never be.\u2019\n\n LXIV\n\n \u2018But, Prince, what sall come o\u2019 my men?\n When I gae back, traitor they\u2019ll ca\u2019 me.\n I had rather lose my life and land,\n Ere my merry men rebuk\u00e8d me.\u2019--\n\n LXV\n\n \u2018Will your merry men amend their lives,\n An\u2019 a\u2019 their pardons I grant thee?\n Now, name thy lands where\u2019er they lie,\n And here I render them to thee.\u2019--\n\n LXVI\n\n \u2018Fair Philiphaugh is mine by right,\n And Lewinshope still mine shall be;\n Newark, Foulshiells, and Tinn\u00e8s baith,\n My bow and arrow purchased me.\n\n LXVII\n\n \u2018And I have native steads to me,\n The Newark Lee and Hanginshaw;\n I have mony steads in Ettrick Forest,\n But them by name I dinna knaw.\u2019\n\n LXVIII\n\n The keys of the castle he gave the King,\n Wi\u2019 the blessing o\u2019 his fair ladye;\n He was made sheriff of Ettrick Forest,\n Surely while upward grows the tree;\n And if he was na traitor to the King,\n Forfaulted he suld never be.\n\n LXIX\n\n Wha ever heard, in ony times,\n Siccan an outlaw in his degree\n Sic favour get before a King,\n As did Outlaw Murray of the forest free?\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[520] bigg\u2019d = built.\n\n[521] hollin = holly.\n\n[522] bree = brow.\n\n[523] courtrie = courtiers.\n\n[524] rede = advise.\n\n[525] frith = wood.\n\n[526] whidderand = whizzing.\n\n[527] Soudron = Southron, English.\n\n[528] rad = afraid.\n\n[529] graith = harness.\n\n[530] siccan = such.\n\n[531] Forfaulted = forfeited.\n\n\n\n\n_85. Glenlogie_\n\n\n I\n\n Four-and-twenty nobles rade to the King\u2019s ha\u2019,\n But bonny Glenlogie was the flow\u2019r o\u2019 them a\u2019.\n\n II\n\n Lady Jeanie Melville cam\u2019 trippin\u2019 down the stair;\n When she saw Glenlogie her hairt it grew sair.\n\n III\n\n She call\u2019d to the footman that ran by his side:\n Says, \u2018What is your lord\u2019s name, an\u2019 where does he bide?\u2019--\n\n IV\n\n \u2018His name is Glenlogie when he is from home:\n He\u2019s of the gay Gordons, his name it is John.\u2019--\n\n V\n\n \u2018Glenlogie, Glenlogie, an you will prove kind,\n My love is laid on you; I am tellin\u2019 my mind.\u2019--\n\n VI\n\n He turn\u2019d about lightly, as the Gordons do a\u2019;\n Says, \u2018I thank you, Lady Jeanie, but I\u2019m promised awa\u2019.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n She call\u2019d on her maidens her bed for to make,\n Her rings from her fingers she did them a\u2019 break.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Where will I get a bonny boy, to win hose and shoon,\n To go to Glenlogie and bid Logie come?\u2019\n\n IX\n\n When Glenlogie got the letter, amang noblemen,\n \u2018I wonder,\u2019 said Glenlogie, \u2018what does young women mean?\n\n X\n\n \u2018I wonder i\u2019 the warld what women see at me,\n That bonny Jeanie Melville for my sake shou\u2019d dee?\n\n XI\n\n \u2018O what is my lineage, or what is my make,\n That bonny Jeanie Melville shou\u2019d dee for my sake?\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Go saddle my black horse, go saddle him soon,\n Till I ride to Bethelnie, to see Lady Jean!\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n When he came to Bethelnie, he rade round about,\n And he saw Jeanie\u2019s father at the window look out.\n\n XIV\n\n When he came to the gateway, small mirth was there;\n But was weepin\u2019 and wailin\u2019, a\u2019 tearin\u2019 their hair.\n\n XV\n\n O pale and wan look\u2019d she when Glenlogie came ben,\n But red ruddy grew she whene\u2019er he sat down.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018Turn round Jeanie Melville, turn round to this side,\n And I\u2019ll be the bridegroom, and you\u2019ll be the bride!\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n O \u2019twas a merry weddin\u2019, and the portion down told,\n Of bonny Jeanie Melville, scarce sixteen years old!\n\n\n\n\n_86. Lady Elspat_\n\n\n I\n\n \u2018O brent\u2019s[532] your brow, my Lady Elspat;\n O gowden yellow is your hair!\n Of a\u2019 the maids o\u2019 fair Scotland\n There\u2019s nane like Lady Elspat fair.\u2019\n\n II\n\n \u2018Perform your vows,\u2019 she says, \u2018Sweet William;\n The vows which ye ha\u2019 made to me;\n And at the back o\u2019 my mither\u2019s castle\n This night I\u2019ll surely meet wi\u2019 thee.\u2019\n\n III\n\n But wae be to her brother\u2019s page,\n Wha heard the words this twa did say!\n He\u2019s tauld them to her lady mither,\n Wha wrought Sweet William mickle wae.\n\n IV\n\n For she\u2019s ta\u2019en him, Sweet William,\n And she\u2019s gar\u2019d bind him wi\u2019s bow-string.\n Till the red blood o\u2019 his fair body\n Frae ilka nail o\u2019 his hand did spring.\n\n V\n\n O it fell ance upon a time\n That the Lord Justice came to town;\n Out she has ta\u2019en him, Sweet William,\n Brought him before the Lord Justice boun\u2019.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018And what is the crime now, madame,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018Has been committed by this young man?\u2019--\n \u2018O he has broken my bonny castle,\n That was well biggit[533] wi\u2019 lime and stane.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018And he has broken my bonny coffers,\n That was well bandit[534] wi\u2019 aiken[535] ban\u2019;\n And he has stolen my rich jewels;\n I wot he has them every ane.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n Then out it spak\u2019 her Lady Elspat\n As she sat by the Lord Justice\u2019 knee:\n \u2018Now ye hae tauld your tale, mither,\n I pray, Lord Justice, you\u2019ll now hear me.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018He hasna broken her bonny castle,\n That was well biggit wi\u2019 lime and stane;\n Nor has he stolen her rich jewels,\n For I wot she has them every one.\n\n X\n\n \u2018But tho\u2019 he was my first true love,\n And tho\u2019 I had sworn to be his bride,\n \u2019Cause he had not a great estate\n She would this way our loves divide.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n Then out it spak\u2019 the Lord Justice\n (I wot the tear was in his e\u2019e):\n \u2018I see nae fault in this young man;\n Sae loose his bands, and set him free.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Tak\u2019 back your love now, Lady Elspat,\n And my best blessing you baith upon!\n For gin he be your first true love,\n He is my eldest sister\u2019s son.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018There is a steed within my stable\n Cost me baith gowd and white mon\u00e8y;\n Ye\u2019se get as mickle o\u2019 my free land\n As he\u2019ll ride about in a summer\u2019s day.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[532] brent = straight, smooth.\n\n[533] biggit = built.\n\n[534] bandit = bound.\n\n[535] aiken = oaken.\n\n\n\n\n_87. Jamie Douglas_\n\n\n I\n\n I was a lady of high renown\n As ever lived in the north countrie;\n I was a lady of high renown\n When the Earl Douglas luv\u00e8d me.\n\n II\n\n And when we came through Glasgow toun,\n We were a comely sight to see;\n My gude lord in the black velv\u00e8t,\n And I mysel\u2019 in cramasie[536].\n\n III\n\n But when we came to Douglas toun,\n We were a fine sight to behold:\n My gude lord in the cramasie\n And I mysel\u2019 in the shining gold.\n\n IV\n\n And when that my auld[537] son was born\n And set upon his nurse\u2019s knee,\n I was happy a woman as e\u2019er was born,\n And my gude lord he luv\u00e8d me.\n\n V\n\n But O an my young son was born\n And set upon his nurse\u2019s knee\n And I mysel\u2019 were dead and gane,\n For a maid again I\u2019ll never be!\n\n VI\n\n There cam\u2019 a man into this house,\n And Jamie Lockhart was his name,\n And it was told to my gude lord\n That I was owre in love wi\u2019 him.\n\n VII\n\n O wae be unto thee, Blackw\u00f2od,\n And ae an ill death may ye dee!\n For ye was the first and foremost man\n That parted my gude lord and me.\n\n VIII\n\n I sent a word to my gude lord,\n \u2018Come down, and sit, and dine wi\u2019 me,\n And I\u2019ll set thee on a chair of gowd,\n And a siller towel on thy knee.\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018When cockle-shells turn silver bells,\n And mussell grow on every tree,\n When frost and snow turns fire to burn,\n Then I\u2019ll sit down and dine wi\u2019 thee.\u2019\n\n X\n\n When that my father he had word\n That my gude lord had forsaken me,\n He sent a fifty brisk dragoons\n To fetch me home to my ain countrie.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Fare thee well, my Jamie Douglas!\n Fare thee well, ever dear to me!\n But O, an my young babe were born\n And set upon some nourice\u2019 knee!\n\n XII\n\n \u2018And fare thee well, my pretty palace!\n And fare ye well, my children three!\n God grant your father grace to be kind,\n More kind to you than he was to me!\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n Then slowly, slowly rase I up,\n But quickly, quickly he cam\u2019 doun,\n And when he saw me sit in my coach,\n He made his drums and trumpets sound.\n\n XIV\n\n When we cam\u2019 in by Edinbro\u2019 town,\n My father and mother they met me\n Wi\u2019 trumpets soundin\u2019 on every side;\n But it was nae music at a\u2019 to me.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Now hau\u2019d your comfort my father dear,\n And mother your weeping let abee!\n I\u2019ll never lye in another man\u2019s arms\n Since my dear lord has forsaken me.\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n It\u2019s very true, and it\u2019s aft-times said,\n The hawk will flie far far frae her nest:\n And a\u2019 the warld may plainly see\n They are far frae me that I luve best.\n\n\n _Lament of Barbara, Marchioness of Douglas_\n\n XVII\n\n O waly, waly, up the bank,\n And waly, waly, doun the brae,\n And waly, waly, yon burn-side,\n Where I and my Love wont to gae!\n\n XVIII\n\n I lean\u2019d my back unto an aik,\n I thocht it was a trustie tree;\n But first it bow\u2019d and syne it brak--\n Sae my true love did lichtlie[538] me.\n\n XIX\n\n O waly, waly, gin love be bonnie\n A little time while it is new!\n But when \u2019tis auld it waxeth cauld,\n And fades awa\u2019 like morning dew.\n\n XX\n\n O wherefore should I busk my heid,\n Or wherefore should I kame my hair?\n For my true Love has me forsook,\n And says he\u2019ll never lo\u2019e me mair.\n\n XXI\n\n Now Arthur\u2019s Seat sall be my bed,\n The sheets sall ne\u2019er be \u2019filed by me;\n Saint Anton\u2019s well sall be my drink;\n Since my true Love has forsaken me.\n\n XXII\n\n Marti\u2019mas wind, when wilt thou blaw,\n And shake the green leaves aff the tree?\n O gentle Death, when wilt thou come?\n For of my life I am wear\u00ece.\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2019Tis not the frost, that freezes fell,\n Nor blawing snaw\u2019s inclemencie,\n \u2019Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry;\n But my Love\u2019s heart grown cauld to me.\n\n XXIV\n\n When we cam\u2019 in by Glasgow toun,\n We were a comely sicht to see;\n My Love was clad in the black velv\u00e8t,\n And I mysel\u2019 in cramasie.\n\n XXV\n\n But had I wist, before I kist,\n That love had been sae ill to win,\n I had lock\u2019d my heart in a case o\u2019 gowd,\n And pinn\u2019d it wi\u2019 a siller pin.\n\n XXVI\n\n And O! if my young babe were born,\n And set upon the nurse\u2019s knee;\n And I mysel\u2019 were dead and gane,\n And the green grass growing over me!\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[536] cramasie = crimson.\n\n[537] auld = eldest.\n\n[538] lichtlie = slight, treat with disrespect.\n\n\n\n\n_88. Katharine Johnstone_\n\n\n I\n\n There was a may, and a weel-far\u2019d[539] may,\n Lived high up in yon glen;\n Her name was Katharine Johnstone\n She was courted by mony men.\n\n II\n\n Doun cam\u2019 the Laird o\u2019 Lamington\n Out frae the North Countrie,\n All for to court this pretty may,\n Her bridegroom for to be.\n\n III\n\n He tell\u2019d na her father, he tell\u2019d na her mither,\n He tell\u2019d na ane o\u2019 her kin,\n But he tell\u2019d the bonnie lass hersel\u2019\n An\u2019 her consent did win.\n\n IV\n\n But up then cam\u2019 Lord Faughanwood\n Out frae the English Border,\n And for to court this pretty may,\n A\u2019 mounted in good order.\n\n V\n\n He\u2019s tell\u2019d her father, he\u2019s tell\u2019d her mither,\n And a\u2019 the lave[540] o\u2019 her kin;\n But he\u2019s tell\u2019d na the bonny lass hersel\u2019\n Till on her weddin\u2019-e\u2019en.\n\n VI\n\n She\u2019s sent unto her first fere[541] love,\n Gin he would come to see,\n And Lamington has sent back word\n Weel answer\u2019d should she be.\n\n VII\n\n Then he has sent a messenger\n Right quietly thro\u2019 the land,\n For four-and-twenty arm\u00e8d men\n To ride at his command.\n\n VIII\n\n The bridegroom from a high window\n Beheld baith dale and down,\n And there he spied her first fere love\n Cam\u2019 riding to the toun.\n\n IX\n\n She scoff\u00e8d and she scorn\u00e8d him\n Upon her weddin\u2019-day,\n And said it was the Fairy Court\n He saw in sic array!\n\n X\n\n When a\u2019 were at the dinner set,\n Drinking the blude-red wine,\n In cam\u2019 the Laird o\u2019 Lamington\n The bridegroom \u2019should hae been.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018O come ye here to fight, young lord?\n Or come ye here to play?\n Or come ye here to drink good wine\n Upon the weddin\u2019-day?\u2019--\n\n XII\n\n \u2018I come na here to fight,\u2019 he said\n \u2018I come na here to play;\n I\u2019ll but lead a dance wi\u2019 the bonny bride,\n And mount and go my way.\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n There was a glass of the blude-red wine\n Was fill\u2019d them up between,\n But aye she drank to Lamington,\n Wha her true love had been.\n\n XIV\n\n He\u2019s ta\u2019en her by the milk-white hand,\n And by the grass-green sleeve;\n He\u2019s mounted her high behind himsel\u2019,\n At her kin he\u2019s spier\u2019d[542] nae leave.\n\n XV\n\n There were four-and-twenty bonny boys\n A\u2019 clad in the Johnstone grey,\n They swore they would tak\u2019 the bride again\n By the strong hand, if they may.\n\n XVI\n\n It\u2019s up, it\u2019s up the Cowden bank,\n It\u2019s down the Cowden brae;\n The bride she gar\u2019d the trumpet sound\n \u2018It is a weel-won play!\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n The blude ran down by Cowden bank\n And down by Cowden brae,\n But aye she gar\u2019d the trumpet sound\n \u2018It\u2019s a\u2019 fair play!\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018My blessing on your heart, sweet thing!\n Wae to your wilfu\u2019 will!\n Sae mony a gallant gentleman\u2019s blood\n This day as ye\u2019ve gar\u2019d spill.\u2019\n\n XIX\n\n But a\u2019 you lords of fair England,\n If you be English born,\n Come never to Scotland to seek a wife\n Or else ye\u2019ll get the scorn.\n\n XX\n\n They\u2019ll haik ye up[543], and settle ye by[544],\n Until your weddin\u2019-day;\n Then gie ye frogs instead o\u2019 fish,\n And do ye foul, foul play.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[539] weel-far\u2019d = well-favoured.\n\n[540] lave = rest.\n\n[541] fere = mate.\n\n[542] spier\u2019d = asked.\n\n[543] haik ye up = hold you in suspense.\n\n[544] settle ye by = keep you waiting aside.\n\n\n\n\n_89. Johnie Armstrong_\n\n\n I\n\n Sum speiks of lords, sum speiks of lairds,\n And sick lyke men of hie degrie;\n Of a gentleman I sing a sang,\n Sum tyme called Laird of Gilnockie.\n\n II\n\n The King he wrytes a luving letter,\n With his ain hand sae tenderly,\n And he hath sent it to Johnie Armstrang,\n To cum and speik with him speedily.\n\n III\n\n The Eliots and Armstrangs did convene;\n They were a gallant cumpanie--\n \u2018We\u2019ll ride and meit our lawful King,\n And bring him safe to Gilnockie.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n \u2018Make kinnen[545] and capon ready, then,\n And venison in great plentie;\n We\u2019ll wellcum here our royal King;\n I hope he\u2019ll dine at Gilnockie!\u2019--\n\n V\n\n They ran their horse on the Langholme howm,\n And brak their spears wi\u2019 mickle main;\n The ladies lukit frae their loft windows--\n \u2018God bring our men weel hame agen!\u2019\n\n VI\n\n When Johnie cam\u2019 before the King,\n Wi\u2019 a\u2019 his men sae brave to see,\n The King he movit his bonnet to him;\n He ween\u2019d he was King as weel as he.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018May I find grace, my sovereign liege,\n Grace for my loyal men and me?\n For my name it is Johnie Armstrang,\n And a subject of yours, my liege,\u2019 said he.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Away, away, thou traitor strang!\n Out o\u2019 my sight soon mayst thou be!\n I grantit never a traitor\u2019s life,\n And now I\u2019ll not begin wi\u2019 thee.\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Grant me my life, my liege, my King!\n And a bonny gift I\u2019ll gie to thee:\n Full four-and-twenty milk-white steids,\n Were a\u2019 foal\u2019d in ae yeir to me.\n\n X\n\n \u2018I\u2019ll gie thee a\u2019 these milk-white steids,\n That prance and nicker[546] at a speir;\n And as mickle gude Inglish gilt[547],\n As four o\u2019 their braid backs dow[548] bear.\u2019--\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Away, away, thou traitor strang!\n Out o\u2019 my sight soon mayst thou be!\n I grantit never a traitor\u2019s life,\n And now I\u2019ll not begin wi\u2019 thee!\u2019--\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Grant me my life, my liege, my King!\n And a bonny gift I\u2019ll gie to thee:\n Gude four-and-twenty ganging[549] mills,\n That gang thro\u2019 a\u2019 the yeir to me.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018These four-and-twenty mills complete\n Sall gang for thee thro\u2019 a\u2019 the yeir;\n And as mickle of gude reid wheit,\n As a\u2019 thair happers[550] dow to bear.\u2019--\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018Away, away, thou traitor strang!\n Out o\u2019 my sight soon mayst thou be!\n I grantit never a traitor\u2019s life,\n And now I\u2019ll not begin wi\u2019 thee.\u2019--\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Grant me my life, my liege, my King!\n And a great great gift I\u2019ll gie to thee:\n Bauld four-and-twenty sisters\u2019 sons,\n Sall for thee fetch, tho\u2019 a\u2019 should flee!\u2019--\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018Away, away, thou traitor strang!\n Out o\u2019 my sight soon mayst thou be!\n I grantit never a traitor\u2019s life,\n And now I\u2019ll not begin wi\u2019 thee.\u2019--\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018Grant me my life, my liege, my King!\n And a brave gift I\u2019ll gie to thee:\n All between heir and Newcastle town\n Sall pay their yeirly rent to thee.\u2019--\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018Away, away, thou traitor strang!\n Out o\u2019 my sight soon mayst thou be!\n I grantit never a traitor\u2019s life,\n And now I\u2019ll not begin wi\u2019 thee.\u2019--\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018Ye lied, ye lied, now, King,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018Altho\u2019 a King and Prince ye be!\n For I\u2019ve luved naething in my life,\n I weel dare say it, but honesty:\n\n XX\n\n \u2018Save a fat horse, and a fair woman,\n Twa bonny dogs to kill a deir;\n But England suld have found me meal and mault,\n Gif I had lived this hundred yeir!\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018She suld have found me meal and mault,\n And beef and mutton in a\u2019 plentie;\n But never a Scots wyfe could have said\n That e\u2019er I skaith\u2019d[551] her a puir flee.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018To seik het water beneith cauld ice,\n Surely it is a greit folie--\n I have asked grace at a graceless face,\n But there is nane for my men and me!\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018But had I kenn\u2019d ere I cam\u2019 frae hame,\n How thou unkind wadst been to me!\n I wad have keepit the Border side,\n In spite of all thy force and thee.\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018Wist England\u2019s King that I was ta\u2019en,\n O gin a blythe man he wad be!\n For anes I slew his sister\u2019s son,\n And on his breist bane brak a trie.\u2019\n\n XXV\n\n John wore a girdle about his middle,\n Imbroider\u2019d owre wi\u2019 burning gold,\n Bespangled wi\u2019 the same metal,\n Maist beautiful was to behold.\n\n XXVI\n\n There hung nine targats[552] at Johnie\u2019s hat,\n And ilk ane worth three hundred pound--\n \u2018What wants that knave that a King suld have,\n But the sword of honour and the crown?\u2019\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018O where got thou these targats, Johnie,\n That blink sae brawlie[553] abune thy brie[554]?\u2019--\n \u2018I gat them in the field fechting,\n Where, cruel King, thou durst not be.\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018Had I my horse, and harness gude,\n And riding as I wont to be,\n It suld have been tauld this hundred yeir,\n The meeting of my King and me!\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018God be with thee, Kirsty, my brother,\n Lang live thou Laird of Mangertoun!\n Lang mayst thou live on the Border syde,\n Ere thou see thy brother ride up and doun!\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018And God be with thee, Kirsty, my son,\n Where thou sits on thy nurse\u2019s knee!\n But an thou live this hundred yeir,\n Thy father\u2019s better thou\u2019lt never be.\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018Farewell! my bonny Gilnock hall,\n Where on Esk side thou standest stout!\n Gif I had lived but seven yeirs mair,\n I wad hae gilt thee round about.\u2019\n\n XXXII\n\n John murder\u2019d was at Carlinrigg,\n And all his gallant companie;\n But Scotland\u2019s heart was ne\u2019er sae wae,\n To see sae mony brave men die--\n\n XXXIII\n\n Because they saved their country deir\n Frae Englishmen! Nane were sa bauld,\n Whyle Johnie lived on the Border syde,\n Nane of them durst cum neir his hauld.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[545] kinnen = rabbits.\n\n[546] nicker = neigh.\n\n[547] gilt = gold.\n\n[548] dow = are able to.\n\n[549] ganging = going.\n\n[550] happers = mill-hoppers.\n\n[551] skaith\u2019d = hurt, wronged.\n\n[552] targats = round ornaments.\n\n[553] blink sae brawlie = glance so bravely.\n\n[554] brie = brow.\n\n\n\n\n_90. Clyde Water_\n\n\n I\n\n Willie stands in his stable door,\n And clapping at his steed,\n And over his white fingers\n His nose began to bleed.\n\n II\n\n \u2018Gie corn unto my horse, mither,\n Gie meat unto my man;\n For I maun gang to Margaret\u2019s bour\n Before the nicht comes on.\u2019--\n\n III\n\n \u2018O bide at hame this nicht, Willie,\n This ae bare nicht wi\u2019 me:\n The bestan bed in a\u2019 my house\n Sall be well made to thee.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018O bide at hame this nicht, Willie,\n This ae bare nicht wi\u2019 me:\n The bestan bird in a\u2019 the roost\n At your supper, son, sall be.\u2019--\n\n V\n\n \u2018A\u2019 your beds and a\u2019 your roosts\n I value not a pin;\n But I sall gae to my love\u2019s gates\n This nicht, gif I can win.\u2019--\n\n VI\n\n \u2018O stay at home, my son Willie,\n The wind blaws cauld an\u2019 sour;\n The nicht will be baith mirk and late\n Before ye reach her bour.\u2019--\n\n VII\n\n \u2018O though the nicht were ever sae dark,\n Or the wind blew never sae cauld,\n I will be in my Margaret\u2019s bour\n Before twa hours be tald.\u2019--\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018O an ye gang to Margaret\u2019s bour\n Sae sair against my will,\n I\u2019 the deepest pot o\u2019 Clyde\u2019s water\n My malison[555] ye\u2019se feel.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n As he rade owre yon high high hill,\n And doun yon dowie[556] den,\n The roaring that was in Clyde\u2019s water\n Wad fley\u2019d[557] five hundred men.\n\n X\n\n His heart was warm, his pride was up,\n Sweet Willie kentna fear;\n But yet his mither\u2019s malison\n Aye soundit in his ear.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018O spare, O spare me, Clyde\u2019s water:\n Your stream rins wondrous strang:\n Mak\u2019 me your wrack as I come back,\n But spare me as I gang!\u2019\n\n XII\n\n Then he rade in, and further in,\n And he swam to an\u2019 fro,\n Until he\u2019s grippit a hazel bush\n That brung him to the brow.\n\n XIII\n\n Then he is on to Margaret\u2019s bour,\n And tirl\u00e8d at the pin;\n But doors were steek\u2019d and windows barr\u2019d,\n And nane wad let him in.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018O open the door to me, Marg\u2019ret!\n O open and let me in!\n For my boots are fu\u2019 o\u2019 Clyde\u2019s water\n And the rain rins owre my chin.\u2019--\n\n XV\n\n \u2018I darena open the door to you,\n Nor darena let you in;\n For my mither she is fast asleep,\n And I maun mak\u2019 nae din.\u2019--\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018O hae ye ne\u2019er a stable?\u2019 he says,\n \u2018Or hae ye ne\u2019er a barn?\n Or hae ye ne\u2019er a wild-goose house\n Where I might rest till morn?\u2019--\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018My barn it is fu\u2019 o\u2019 corn,\u2019 she says,\n \u2018My stable is fu\u2019 o\u2019 hay;\n My house is fu\u2019 o\u2019 merry young men;\n They winna remove till day.\u2019--\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018O fare ye weel then, May Marg\u2019ret,\n Sin\u2019 better may na be!\n I\u2019ve gotten my mither\u2019s malison\n This nicht, coming to thee.\u2019\n\n XIX\n\n He\u2019s mounted on his coal-black steed,\n --O but his heart was wae!\n But ere he came to Clyde\u2019s water\n \u2019Twas half up owre the brae.\n\n XX\n\n \u2018An hey, Willie! an hoa, Willie!\n Winna ye turn agen?\u2019\n But aye the louder that she cried\n He rade agenst the win\u2019.\n\n XXI\n\n As he rade owre yon high high hill,\n And doun yon dowie den,\n The roaring that was in Clyde\u2019s water\n Wad fley\u2019d a thousand men.\n\n XXII\n\n Then he rade in, and farther in,\n Till he cam\u2019 to the chine;\n The rushing that was in Clyde\u2019s water\n Took Willie\u2019s riding-cane.\n\n XXIII\n\n He lean\u2019d him owre his saddle-bow\n To catch the rod by force;\n The rushing that was in Clyde\u2019s water\n Took Willie frae his horse.\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018O how can I turn my horse\u2019s head?\n How can I learn to sowm[558]?\n I\u2019ve gotten my mither\u2019s malison,\n And it\u2019s here that I maun drown!\u2019\n\n XXV\n\n O he swam high, and he swam low,\n And he swam to and fro,\n But he couldna spy the hazel-bush\n Wad bring him to the brow.\n\n XXVI\n\n He\u2019s sunk and he never rase agen\n Into the pot sae deep ...\n And up it waken\u2019d May Margaret\n Out o\u2019 her drowsie sleep.\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018Come hither, come here, my mither dear,\n Read me this dreary dream;\n I dream\u2019d my Willie was at our gates,\n And nane wad let him in.\u2019--\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018Lie still, lie still now, my Meggie:\n Lie still and tak\u2019 your rest;\n Sin\u2019 your true-love was at your gates\n It\u2019s but twa quarters past.\u2019--\n\n XXIX\n\n Nimbly, nimbly rase she up,\n And nimbly put she on;\n And the higher that the lady cried,\n The louder blew the win\u2019.\n\n XXX\n\n The firstan step that she stept in,\n She steppit to the queet[559]:\n \u2018Ohon, alas!\u2019 said that lady,\n \u2018This water\u2019s wondrous deep.\u2019\n\n XXXI\n\n The neistan step that she stept in,\n She waded to the knee;\n Says she, \u2018I cou\u2019d wade farther in,\n If I my love cou\u2019d see.\u2019\n\n XXXII\n\n The neistan step that she wade in,\n She waded to the chin;\n The deepest pot in Clyde\u2019s water\n She got sweet Willie in.\n\n XXXIII\n\n \u2018Ye\u2019ve had a cruel mither, Willie!\n And I have had anither;\n But we sall sleep in Clyde\u2019s water\n Like sister an\u2019 like brither.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[555] malison = curse.\n\n[556] dowie = dismal, gloomy.\n\n[557] fley\u2019d = frightened.\n\n[558] sowm = swim.\n\n[559] queet = ankle.\n\n\n\n\n_91. Young Benjie_\n\n\n I\n\n Of a\u2019 the maids o\u2019 fair Scotland,\n The fairest was Marjorie;\n And young Benjie was her ae true love,\n And a dear true-love was he.\n\n II\n\n And wow! but they were lovers dear,\n And loved fu\u2019 constantlie;\n But ay the mair when they fell out,\n The sairer was their plea[560].\n\n III\n\n And they hae quarrell\u2019d on a day,\n Till Marjorie\u2019s heart grew wae,\n And she said she\u2019d chuse another luve,\n And let young Benjie gae.\n\n IV\n\n And he was stout, and proud-heart\u00e8d,\n And thought o\u2019t bitterlie,\n And he\u2019s gaen by the wan moon-light,\n To meet his Marjorie.\n\n V\n\n \u2018O open, open, my true love!\n O open, and let me in!\u2019--\n \u2018I dare na open, young Benjie,\n My three brothers are within.\u2019--\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Ye lied, ye lied, my bonny burd,\n Sae loud\u2019s I hear ye lie;\n As I came by the Lowden banks,\n They bade gude e\u2019en to me.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018But fare ye weel, my ae fause love,\n That I hae loved sae lang!\n It sets[561] ye chuse another love,\n And let young Benjie gang.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n Then Marjorie turned her round about,\n The tear blinding her e\u2019e,\n \u2018I darena, darena let thee in,\n But I\u2019ll come down to thee.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n Then saft she smiled, and said to him,\n \u2018O what ill hae I done?\u2019\n He took her in his armis twa,\n And threw her o\u2019er the linn[562].\n\n X\n\n The stream was strang, the maid was stout,\n And laith laith to be dang[563];\n But, ere she wan the Lowden banks,\n Her fair colour was wan.\n\n XI\n\n Then up bespak her eldest brother,\n \u2018O see na ye what I see?\u2019\n And out then spak her second brother,\n \u2018It\u2019s our sister Marjorie!\u2019\n\n XII\n\n Out then spak her eldest brother,\n \u2018O how shall we her ken?\u2019\n And out then spak her youngest brother,\n \u2018There\u2019s a honey mark on her chin.\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n Then they\u2019ve ta\u2019en up the comely corpse,\n And laid it on the grund:\n \u2018O wha has killed our ae sister,\n And how can he be found?\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018The night it is her low lykewake[564],\n The morn her burial day,\n And we maun watch at mirk midnight,\n And hear what she will say.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n Wi\u2019 doors ajar, and candle-light,\n And torches burning clear,\n The streikit[565] corpse, till still midnight,\n They waked, but naething hear.\n\n XVI\n\n About the middle o\u2019 the night,\n The cocks began to craw,\n And at the dead hour o\u2019 the night,\n The corpse began to thraw[566].\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018O wha has done the wrang, sister,\n Or dared the deadly sin?\n Wha was sae stout, and feared nae dout,\n As thraw ye o\u2019er the linn?\u2019--\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018Young Benjie was the first ae man,\n I laid my love upon;\n He was sae stout and proud-heart\u00e8d,\n He threw me o\u2019er the linn.\u2019--\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018Sall we young Benjie head, sister,\n Sall we young Benjie hang,\n Or sall we pike out his twa gray e\u2019en,\n And punish him ere he gang?\u2019--\n\n XX\n\n \u2018Ye mauna Benjie head, brothers,\n Ye mauna Benjie hang,\n But ye maun pike out his twa gray e\u2019en,\n And punish him ere he gang.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018Tie a green gravat[567] round his neck,\n And lead him out and in,\n And the best ae servant about your house,\n To wait young Benjie on.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018And ay, at every seven years\u2019 end,\n Ye\u2019ll tak him to the linn;\n For that\u2019s the penance he maun drie[568],\n To scug[569] his deadly sin.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[560] plea = quarrel.\n\n[561] sets = befits.\n\n[562] linn = stream.\n\n[563] dang = overcome.\n\n[564] lykewake = corpse-watching.\n\n[565] streikit = stretched out.\n\n[566] thraw = twist, writhe.\n\n[567] gravat = cravat, collar.\n\n[568] drie = endure.\n\n[569] scug = screen, expiate.\n\n\n\n\n_92. Annan Water_\n\n\n I\n\n Annan water\u2019s wading deep,\n And my love Annie\u2019s wondrous bonny;\n And I am laith she suld weet her feet,\n Because I love her best of ony.\n\n II\n\n \u2018Gar saddle me the bonny black,\n Gar saddle sune, and make him ready;\n For I will down the Gatehope-Slack,\n And all to see my bonny ladye.\u2019\n\n III\n\n He has loupen on the bonny black,\n He stirr\u2019d him wi\u2019 the spur right sairly;\n But, or he wan the Gatehope-Slack,\n I think the steed was wae and weary.\n\n IV\n\n He has loupen on the bonny grey,\n He rade the right gate[570] and the ready;\n I trow he would neither stint nor stay,\n For he was seeking his bonny ladye.\n\n V\n\n O he has ridden o\u2019er field and fell,\n Through muir and moss, and mony a mire:\n His spurs o\u2019 steel were sair to bide,\n And frae her fore-feet flew the fire.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Now, bonny grey, now play your part!\n Gin ye be the steed that wins my deary,\n Wi\u2019 corn and hay ye\u2019se be fed for aye,\n And never spur sall make you wearie.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n The grey was a mare, and a right good mare;\n But when she wan the Annan water,\n She couldna hae ridden a furlong mair,\n Had a thousand merks been wadded[571] at her.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018O boatman, boatman, put off your boat!\n Put off your boat for gowden money!\n I cross the drumly[572] stream the night,\n Or never mair I see my honey.\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018O I was sworn sae late yestreen,\n And not by ae aith, but by many;\n And for a\u2019 the gowd in fair Scotland,\n I dare na take ye through to Annie.\u2019--\n\n X\n\n The side was stey[573], and the bottom deep,\n Frae bank to brae the water pouring;\n And the bonny grey mare did sweat for fear,\n For she heard the water-kelpy[574] roaring.\n\n XI\n\n O he has pu\u2019d aff his dapperpy[575] coat,\n The silver buttons glanc\u00e8d bonny;\n The waistcoat bursted aff his breast,\n He was sae full of melancholy.\n\n XII\n\n He has ta\u2019en the ford at that stream tail;\n I wot he swam both strong and steady,\n But the stream was broad, and his strength did fail,\n And he never saw his bonny ladye!\n\n XIII\n\n O wae betide the frush[576] saugh[577] wand!\n And wae betide the bush of brier!\n It brake into my true love\u2019s hand,\n When his strength did fail, and his limbs did tire.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018And wae betide ye, Annan Water,\n This night that ye are a drumlie river!\n For over thee I\u2019ll build a bridge,\n That ye never more true love may sever.\u2019--\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[570] gate = way.\n\n[571] wadded = wagered.\n\n[572] drumly = turbid.\n\n[573] stey = steep.\n\n[574] water-kelpy = water-sprite.\n\n[575] dapperpy = diapered.\n\n[576] frush = brittle.\n\n[577] saugh = willow.\n\n\n\n\n_93. Rare Willy drowned in Yarrow_\n\n\n I\n\n \u2018Willy\u2019s rare, and Willy\u2019s fair,\n And Willy\u2019s wondrous bonny;\n And Willy heght[578] to marry me,\n Gin e\u2019er he marryd ony.\n\n II\n\n \u2018Yestreen I made my bed fu\u2019 braid,\n The night I\u2019ll make it narrow,\n For a\u2019 the live-long winter\u2019s night\n I lie twin\u2019d[579] of my marrow[580].\n\n III\n\n \u2018O came you by yon water-side?\n Pu\u2019d you the rose or lilly?\n Or came you by yon meadow green?\n Or saw you my sweet Willy?\u2019\n\n IV\n\n She sought him east, she sought him west,\n She sought him braid and narrow;\n Sine, in the clifting[581] of a craig,\n She found him drown\u2019d in Yarrow.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[578] heght = promised.\n\n[579] twin\u2019d = deprived.\n\n[580] marrow = mate.\n\n[581] clifting = cleft.\n\n\n\n\n_94. The Duke of Gordon\u2019s Daughter_\n\n\n I\n\n The Duke of Gordon had three daughters,\n Elizabeth, Marg\u2019ret and Jean;\n They would not stay in bonny Castle Gordon,\n But they went to bonny Aberdeen.\n\n II\n\n They had not been in bonny Aberdeen\n A twelvemonth and a day,\n Lady Jean fell in love with Captain Ogilvie\n And awa\u2019 with him she would gae.\n\n III\n\n Word came to the Duke of Gordon,\n In the chamber where he lay,\n Lady Jean was in love with Captain Ogilvie,\n And from him she would not stay.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018Go saddle to me the black horse,\n And you\u2019ll ride on the grey,\n And I will gang to bonny Aberdeen\n Forthwith to bring her away.\u2019\n\n V\n\n They were not a mile from Aberdeen,\n A mile but only one,\n Till he met with his two daughters,\n But awa\u2019 was Lady Jean.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Where is your sister, maidens?\n Where is your sister now?\n Say, what is become of your sister,\n That she is not walking with you?\u2019\n\n VII\n\n \u2018O pardon us, honour\u2019d father,\n O pardon us!\u2019 they did say;\n \u2018Lady Jean is wed with Captain Ogilvie,\n And from him she will not stay.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n [Then an angry man the Duke rade on]\n Till he came to bonny Aberdeen,\n And there did he see brave Captain Ogilvie\n A-training of his men on the green.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018O woe be to thee, thou Captain Ogilvie!\n And an ill death thou shalt dee.\n For taking to thee my daughter Jean\n High hangit shalt thou be.\u2019\n\n X\n\n The Duke has written a broad letter,\n To the King [with his own han\u2019;]\n It was to hang Captain Ogilvie\n If ever he hang\u2019d a man.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018I will not hang Captain Ogilvie\n For no lord that I see;\n But I\u2019ll gar him put off the broad scarl\u00e8t,\n And put on the single liver[582]\u1ef3.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n Now word came to Captain Ogilvie,\n In the chamber where he lay,\n To cast off the gold lace and scarlet,\n And put on the single liver\u1ef3.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018If this be for bonny Jeanie Gordon,\n This penance I can take wi\u2019;\n If this be for dear Jeanie Gordon,\n All this and mair will I dree[583].\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n Lady Jeanie had not been married\n A year but only three,\n Till she had a babe upon every arm\n And another upon her knee.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018O but I\u2019m weary of wand\u2019rin\u2019!\n O but my fortune is bad!\n It sets not the Duke of Gordon\u2019s daughter\n To follow a soldier lad.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018O but I\u2019m weary, weary wand\u2019rin\u2019!\n O but I think it lang!\n It sets not the Duke of Gordon\u2019s daughter\n To follow a single man.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018O hold thy tongue, Jeanie Gordon,\n O hold thy tongue, my lamb!\n For once I was a noble captain,\n Now for thy sake a single man.\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n But when they came to the Highland hills,\n Cold was the frost and snow;\n Lady Jean\u2019s shoes they were all torn,\n No farther could she go.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018Now woe to the hills and the mountains!\n Woe to the wind and the rain!\n My feet is sair wi\u2019 going barefoot:\n No farther can I gang.\n\n XX\n\n \u2018O were I in the glens o\u2019 Foudlen,\n Where hunting I have been,\n I would go to bonny Castle Gordon,\n There I\u2019d get hose and sheen[584]!\u2019\n\n XXI\n\n When they came to bonny Castle Gordon,\n And standing on the green,\n The porter out with loud loud shout,\n \u2018O here comes our Lady Jean!\u2019--\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018You are welcome, bonny Jeanie Gordon,\n You are dear welcome to me;\n You are welcome, dear Jeanie Gordon,\n But awa\u2019 with your Ogilvie!\u2019\n\n XXIII\n\n Over-seas now went the Captain,\n As a soldier under command;\n But a message soon follow\u2019d after,\n To come home for to heir his land.\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018O what does this mean?\u2019 says the Captain;\n \u2018Where\u2019s my brother\u2019s children three?\u2019--\n \u2018They are a\u2019 o\u2019 them dead and buried:\n Come home, pretty Captain Ogilvie!\u2019\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018Then hoist up your sail,\u2019 says the Captain,\n \u2018And we\u2019ll hie back owre the sea;\n And I\u2019ll gae to bonny Castle Gordon,\n There my dear Jeanie to see.\u2019\n\n XXVI\n\n He came to bonny Castle Gordon,\n And upon the green stood he:\n The porter out with a loud loud shout,\n \u2018Here comes our Captain Ogilvie!\u2019--\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018You\u2019re welcome, pretty Captain Ogilvie,\n Your fortune\u2019s advanced, I hear;\n No stranger can come to my castle\n That I do love so dear.\u2019--\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018Put up your hat, Duke of Gordon;\n Let it fa\u2019 not from your head.\n It never set the noble Duke of Gordon\n To bow to a single soldier lad.\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018Sir, the last time I was at your Castle,\n You would not let me in;\n Now I\u2019m come for my wife and children,\n No friendship else I claim.\u2019\n\n XXX\n\n Down the stair Lady Jean came tripping,\n With the saut tear in her e\u2019e;\n She had a babe in every arm,\n And another at her knee.\n\n XXXI\n\n The Captain took her straight in his arms,\n --O a happy man was he!--\n Saying, \u2018Welcome, bonny Jeanie Gordon,\n My Countess o\u2019 Cumberland to be!\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[582] single livery = private\u2019s uniform.\n\n[583] dree = endure.\n\n[584] sheen = shoes.\n\n\n\n\n_95. The Bonny Earl of Murray_\n\n\n I\n\n Ye Highlands and ye Lawlands,\n O where hae ye been?\n They hae slain the Earl of Murray,\n And hae laid him on the green.\n\n II\n\n Now wae be to thee, Huntley!\n And whairfore did ye sae!\n I bade you bring him wi\u2019 you,\n But forbade you him to slay.\n\n III\n\n He was a braw gallant,\n And he rid at the ring;\n And the bonny Earl of Murray,\n O he might hae been a king!\n\n IV\n\n He was a braw gallant,\n And he play\u2019d at the ba\u2019;\n And the bonny Earl of Murray\n Was the flower amang them a\u2019!\n\n V\n\n He was a braw gallant,\n And he play\u2019d at the gluve;\n And the bonny Earl of Murray,\n O he was the Queen\u2019s luve!\n\n VI\n\n O lang will his Lady\n Look owre the Castle Downe,\n Ere she see the Earl of Murray\n Come sounding through the town!\n\n\n\n\n_96. Bonny George Campbell_\n\n\n I\n\n Hie upon Hielands,\n And laigh[585] upon Tay,\n Bonny George Campbell\n Rade out on a day:\n Saddled and bridled,\n Sae gallant to see,\n Hame cam\u2019 his gude horse,\n But never cam\u2019 he.\n\n II\n\n Down ran his auld mither,\n Greetin[586]\u2019 fu\u2019 sair;\n Out ran his bonny bride,\n Reaving[587] her hair;\n \u2018My meadow lies green,\n And my corn is unshorn,\n My barn is to bigg[588],\n And my babe is unborn.\u2019\n\n III\n\n Saddled and bridled\n And booted rade he;\n A plume in his helmet,\n A sword at his knee;\n But toom[589] cam\u2019 his saddle\n A\u2019 bluidy to see,\n O hame cam\u2019 his gude horse,\n But never cam\u2019 he!\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[585] laigh = low.\n\n[586] greeting = crying, lamenting.\n\n[587] Reaving = tearing.\n\n[588] bigg = build.\n\n[589] toom = empty.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK IV\n\n\n\n\n_97. Judas_\n\n\n I\n\n Hit wes upon a Scere-thorsday[590]\n that ure loverd[591] aros;\n Ful milde were the word\u00e8s\n he spec to Judas.\n\n II\n\n \u2018Judas, thou most to Jurselem,\n oure mete for to bugge[592];\n Thritti platen[593] of selver\n thou bere up othi rugge[594].\n\n III\n\n \u2018Thou comest fer ithe brode stret,\n fer ithe brode strete,\n Summe of thine tunesmen[595]\n ther thou meist i-mete.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n Imette[596] wid is soster,\n the swikele[597] wimon:\n \u2018Judas, thou were wrth\u00e8[598]\n me stende the wid ston[599],\n For the false prophete\n that tou bilevest upon.\u2019\n\n V\n\n \u2018Be stille, leve[600] soster,\n thin herte the to-breke!\n Wiste min loverd Crist,\n ful wel he wolde be wreke[601].\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[590] Scere-thorsday = Thursday before Easter.\n\n[591] ure loverd = our lord.\n\n[592] bugge = buy.\n\n[593] platen = plates, i. e. coins, pieces.\n\n[594] rugge = ridge, back.\n\n[595] tunesmen = townsmen.\n\n[596] Imette = being met.\n\n[597] swikele = treacherous.\n\n[598] wrth\u00e8 = worthy.\n\n[599] me stende, &c. = men stoned thee.\n\n[600] leve = dear.\n\n[601] wreke = avenged.\n\n\n\n\n_98. St. Stephen and King Herod_\n\n\n I\n\n Saint Stephen was a clerk\n In King Herod\u2019s hall,\n And serv\u00e8d him of bread and cloth\n As every king befall.\n\n II\n\n Stephen out of kitchen came\n With boar\u2019s head on hand,\n He saw a star was fair and bright\n Over Bethlehem stand.\n\n III\n\n He cast adown the boar\u2019s head\n And went into the hall;\n \u2018I forsake thee, Herod,\n And thy work\u00e8s all.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018I forsake thee, King Herod,\n And thy work\u00e8s all,\n There is a child in Bethlehem born\n Is better than we all.\u2019--\n\n V\n\n \u2018What aileth thee, Stephen?\n What is thee befall?\n Lacketh thee either meat or drink\n In King Herod\u2019s hall?\u2019--\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Lacketh me neither meat ne drink\n In King Herod\u2019s hall;\n There is a child in Bethlehem born\n Is better than we all.\u2019--\n\n VII\n\n \u2018What aileth thee, Stephen?\n Art wode[602] or \u2019ginnest to brede[603]?\n Lacketh thee either gold or fee,\n Or any rich weed[604]?\u2019--\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Lacketh me neither gold ne fee\n Ne none rich weed;\n There is a child in Bethlehem born\n Shall helpen us at our need.\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018That is all so sooth, Stephen,\n All so sooth, I-wys,\n As this capon crow\u00e8 shall\n That li\u2019th here in my dish.\u2019\n\n X\n\n That word was not so soon said,\n That word in that hall,\n The capon crew _Christus natus est_\n Among the lord\u00e8s all.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Risit[605] up, my tormentors,\n By two and all by one,\n And leadit Stephen out of this town,\n And stonit him with stone.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n Tooken they Stephen\n And stoned him in the way;\n And therefore is his even\n On Christe\u2019s own day.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[602] wode = mad.\n\n[603] brede = become (mad).\n\n[604] weed = clothing.\n\n[605] Risit, leadit, stonit = imperatives.\n\n\n\n\n_99. The Maid and the Palmer_\n\n\n I\n\n The maid she went to the well to washe,\n Dew fell off her lily-white fleshe.\n\n II\n\n White she washte, and white she rong[606],\n White she hang\u2019d on the hazel wand.\n\n III\n\n There came an old palmer by the way,\n Says, \u2018God speed thee well, thou fair may.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n \u2018Has tow either cup or can,\n To give an old palmer drink therein?\u2019\n\n V\n\n Says, \u2018I have neither cup nor can,\n To give an old palmer drink therein.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n \u2018But an thy leman[607] come from Rome,\n Cups and cans thou wilt find soon.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n She swore by God and good Saint John\n Leman she had never none.\n\n VIII\n\n Says, \u2018Peace, fair maid, you are forsworne,\n Nin\u00e8 children you have borne.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Three were buryed under thy bed\u2019s head,\n Other three under thy brewing lead[608].\n\n X\n\n \u2018Other three play on yon greene;\n Count, maid, and there be nine.\u2019--\n\n XI\n\n \u2018But I hope you are the good old man\n That all the world beleeves upon.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Old palmer, I pray thee,\n Penaunce that thou wilt give to me.\u2019--\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018Penaunce I can give thee none\n But seven year to be a stepping-stone.\n\n XIV\n\n Other seven a clapper in a bell,\n Other seven to lead an ape in hell.\n\n XV\n\n When thou hast thy penaunce done,\n Then thou\u2019st come a mayden home.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[606] rong = wrung.\n\n[607] leman = lover.\n\n[608] lead = vat.\n\n\n\n\n_100. The Falcon_\n\n\n I\n\n _Lully, lulley! lully, lulley!\n The faucon hath borne my make[609] away!_\n\n II\n\n He bare him up, he bare him down,\n He bare him into an orchard brown.\n\n III\n\n In that orchard there was an halle,\n That was hang\u00e8d with purple and pall[610].\n\n IV\n\n And in that hall there was a bed,\n It was hang\u00e8d with gold sa red.\n\n V\n\n And in that bed there li\u2019th a knight,\n His wound\u00e8s bleeding day and night.\n\n VI\n\n At that bed\u2019s foot there li\u2019th a hound,\n Licking the blood as it runs down.\n\n VII\n\n By that bed-side kneeleth a may[611],\n And she weepeth both night and day.\n\n VIII\n\n And at that bed\u2019s head standeth a stone,\n _Corpus Christi_ written thereon.\n\n IX\n\n _Lully, lulley! lully, lulley!\n The faucon hath borne my make away._\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[609] make = mate.\n\n[610] pall = fine cloth.\n\n[611] may = maiden.\n\n\n\n\n_101. The Cherry-Tree Carol_\n\n\n _i_\n\n I\n\n Joseph was an old man,\n And an old man was he,\n When he wedded Mary\n In the land of Galilee.\n\n II\n\n Joseph and Mary walk\u2019d\n Through an orchard good,\n Where was cherries and berries\n So red as any blood.\n\n III\n\n Joseph and Mary walk\u2019d\n Through an orchard green,\n Where was berries and cherries\n As thick as might be seen.\n\n IV\n\n O then bespoke Mary,\n So meek and so mild,\n \u2018Pluck me one cherry, Joseph,\n For I am with child.\u2019\n\n V\n\n O then bespoke Joseph\n With words so unkind,\n \u2018Let him pluck thee a cherry\n That brought thee with child.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n O then bespoke the babe\n Within his mother\u2019s womb,\n \u2018Bow down then the tallest tree\n For my mother to have some.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n Then bow\u2019d down the highest tree\n Unto his mother\u2019s hand:\n Then she cried, \u2018See, Joseph,\n I have cherries at command!\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n O then bespake Joseph--\n \u2018I have done Mary wrong;\n But cheer up, my dearest,\n And be not cast down.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018O eat your cherries, Mary,\n O eat your cherries now;\n O eat your cherries, Mary,\n That grow upon the bough.\u2019\n\n X\n\n Then Mary pluck\u2019d a cherry\n As red as the blood;\n Then Mary went home\n With her heavy load.\n\n\n _ii_\n\n XI\n\n As Joseph was a-walking,\n He heard an angel sing:\n \u2018This night shall be born\n Our heavenly King.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018He neither shall be born\n In housen nor in hall,\n Nor in the place[612] of Paradise,\n But in an ox\u2019s stall.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018He neither shall be cloth\u00e8d\n In purple nor in pall[613],\n But all in fair linen,\n As were babies all.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018He neither shall be rock\u2019d\n In silver nor in gold,\n But in a wooden cradle\n That rocks on the mould.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018He neither shall be christen\u2019d\n In white wine nor red,\n But with fair spring water\n With which we were christen\u00e8d.\n\n\n _iii_\n\n XVI\n\n Then Mary took her young son\n And set him on her knee;\n \u2018I pray thee now, dear child,\n Tell how this world shall be.\u2019--\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018O I shall be as dead, mother,\n As the stones in the wall;\n O the stones in the street, mother,\n Shall mourn for me all.\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018And upon a Wednesday\n My vow I will make,\n And upon Good Friday\n My death I will take.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018Upon Easter-day, mother,\n My uprising shall be;\n O the sun and the moon, mother,\n Shall both rise with me!\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[612] place = palace.\n\n[613] pall = fine cloth.\n\n\n\n\n_102. The Carnal[614] and the Crane_\n\n\n I\n\n As I pass\u2019d by a river side,\n And there as I did reign[615],\n In argument I chanced to hear\n A Carnal and a Crane.\n\n II\n\n The Carnal said unto the Crane,\n \u2018If all the world should turn,\n Before we had the Father,\n But now we have the Son!\n\n III\n\n \u2018From whence does the Son come?\n From where and from what place?\u2019--\n He said, \u2018In a manger,\n Between an ox and an ass!\u2019\n\n IV\n\n \u2018I pray thee,\u2019 said the Carnal,\n \u2018Tell me before thou go\u2019st,\n Was not the mother of Jesus\n Conceived by the Holy Ghost?\u2019--\n\n V\n\n \u2018She was the purest Virgin,\n And the cleanest from sin;\n She was the handmaid of our Lord,\n And mother of our King.\u2019--\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Where is the golden cradle\n That Christ was rock\u00e8d in?\n Where are the silken sheets\n That Jesus was wrapt in?\u2019--\n\n VII\n\n \u2018A manger was the cradle\n That Christ was rock\u00e8d in;\n The provender the asses left\n So sweetly he slept on.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018There was a star in the West land,\n So bright did it appear\n Into King Herod\u2019s chamber,\n And where King Herod were.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018The Wise Men soon espied it,\n And told the king on high,\n A princely babe was born that night\n No king could e\u2019er destroy.\n\n X\n\n \u2018If this be true, King Herod said,\n As thou tellest unto me,\n This roasted cock that lies in the dish\n Shall crow full fences[616] three.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018The cock soon freshly feathered was\n By the work of God\u2019s own hand,\n And then three fences crow\u00e8d he\n In the dish where he did stand.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Rise up, rise up, you merry men all,\n See that you ready be,\n All children under two years old\n Now slain they all shall be.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018Then Jesus, ah! and Joseph,\n And Mary, that was so pure,\n They travelled into Egypt,\n As you shall find it sure.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018And when they came to Egypt\u2019s land,\n Amongst those fierce wild beasts,\n Mary, she being weary,\n Must needs sit down to rest.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Come sit thee down, says Jesus,\n Come sit thee down by me,\n And thou shalt see how these wild beasts\n Do come and worship me.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018First came the lovely lion,\n Which Jesu\u2019s grace did spring,\n And of the wild beasts in the field,\n The lion shall be the king.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018We\u2019ll choose our virtuous princes,\n Of birth and high degree,\n In every sundry nation,\n Where\u2019er we come and see.\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018Then Jesus, ah! and Joseph,\n And Mary, that was unknown,\n They travelled by a husbandman,\n Just while his seed was sown.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018God speed thee, man! said Jesus,\n Go fetch thy ox and wain,\n And carry home thy corn again,\n Which thou this day hast sown.\n\n XX\n\n \u2018The husbandman fell on his knees,\n Even before his face;\n Long time hast thou been looked for,\n But now thou art come at last.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018And I myself do now believe\n Thy name is Jesus called;\n Redeemer of mankind thou art,\n Though undeserving all.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018The truth, man, thou hast spoken,\n Of it thou may\u2019st be sure,\n For I must lose my precious blood\n For thee and thousands more.\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018If any one should come this way,\n And inquire for me alone,\n Tell them that Jesus pass\u00e8d by,\n As thou thy seed did sow.\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018After that there came King Herod,\n With his train so furiously,\n Inquiring of the husbandman,\n Whether Jesus pass\u00e8d by.\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018Why, the truth it must be spoke,\n And the truth it must be known,\n For Jesus pass\u00e8d by this way\n When my seed was sown.\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018But now I have it reapen,\n And some laid on my wain,\n Ready to fetch and carry\n Into my barn again.\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018Turn back, says the Captain,\n Your labour and mine\u2019s in vain,\n It\u2019s full three-quarters of a year\n Since he his seed has sown.\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018So Herod was deceiv\u00e8d\n By the work of God\u2019s own hand,\n And further he proceeded\n Into the Holy Land.\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018There\u2019s thousands of children young,\n Which for his sake did die,--\n Do not forbid those little ones,\n And do not them deny.\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018The truth now I have spoken,\n And the truth now I have shown\n Even the blessed Virgin,\n She\u2019s now brought forth a Son.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[614] Carnal = crow.\n\n[615] reign = run.\n\n[616] fences = times.\n\n\n\n\n_103. Jolly Wat_\n\n\n _Can I not sing but \u2018Hoy\u2019,\n Whan the joly shepard made so much joy?_\n\n I\n\n The shepard upon a hill he sat;\n He had on him his tabard[617] and his hat,\n His tarbox, his pipe, and his flagat[618];\n His name was call\u00e8d Joly Joly Wat,\n For he was a gud herd\u00e9s boy.\n Ut hoy!\n For in his pipe he made so much joy.\n\n II\n\n The shepard upon a hill was laid;\n His dog unto his girdell was taid[619];\n He had not slept but a litill braid[620],\n But \u2018_Gloria in excelsis_\u2019 was to him said.\n Ut hoy!\n For in his pipe he made so much joy.\n\n III\n\n The shepard on a hill he stode;\n Round about him his shepe they yode[621];\n He put his hond under his hode[622],\n He saw a star as rede as blode.\n Ut hoy!\n For in his pipe he made so much joy.\n\n IV\n\n The shepard said anon right,\n \u2018I will go see yon ferly[623] sight,\n Whereas the angel singeth on hight,\n And the star that shineth so bright.\u2019\n Ut hoy!\n For in his pipe he made so much joy.\n\n V\n\n \u2018Now farewell, Mall, and also Will!\n For my love go ye all still\n Unto I cum again you till,\n And evermore, Will, ring well thy bell.\u2019\n Ut hoy!\n For in his pipe he made so much joy.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Now must I go there Crist was born;\n Farewell! I cum again to-morn.\n Dog, kepe well my shepe fro the corn,\n And warn well \u201cWarroke\u201d when I blow my horn!\u2019\n Ut hoy!\n For in his pipe he made so much joy.\n\n VII\n\n Whan Wat to Bedlem cumen was,\n He swet, he had gone faster than a pace;\n He found Jesu in a simpell place,\n Betwen an ox but and an asse.\n Ut hoy!\n For in his pipe he made so much joy.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Jesu, I offer to thee here my pipe,\n My skirt, my tar-box, and my scrip;\n Home to my felowes now will I skip,\n And also look unto my shepe.\u2019\n Ut hoy!\n For in his pipe he made so much joy.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Now farewell, mine owne herdesman Wat!\u2019--\n \u2018Yea, for God, lady, even so I hat[624];\n Lull well Jesu in thy lap,\n And farewell, Joseph, with thy round cap!\u2019\n Ut hoy!\n For in his pipe he made so much joy.\n\n X\n\n \u2018Now may I well both hope and sing,\n For I have bene at Cristes bering;\n Home to my felowes now will I fling.\n Crist of heven to his bliss us bring!\u2019\n Ut hoy!\n For in his pipe he made so much joy.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[617] tabard = short coat.\n\n[618] flagat = flask.\n\n[619] taid = tied.\n\n[620] braid = time.\n\n[621] yode = went.\n\n[622] hode = hood.\n\n[623] ferly = marvellous.\n\n[624] hat = am hight, called.\n\n\n\n\n_104. I Saw Three Ships_\n\n\n I\n\n As I sat under a sycamore tree,\n --A sycamore tree, a sycamore tree,\n I looked me out upon the sea\n On Christ\u2019s Sunday at morn.\n\n II\n\n I saw three ships a-sailing there,\n --A-sailing there, a-sailing there,\n Jesu, Mary and Joseph they bare\n On Christ\u2019s Sunday at morn.\n\n III\n\n Joseph did whistle and Mary did sing,\n --Mary did sing, Mary did sing,\n And all the bells on earth did ring\n For joy our Lord was born.\n\n IV\n\n O they sail\u2019d in to Bethlehem!\n --To Bethlehem, to Bethlehem;\n Saint Michael was the ster\u00e8sman,\n Saint John sate in the horn[625].\n\n V\n\n And all the bells on earth did ring\n --On earth did ring, on earth did ring:\n \u2018Welcome be thou Heaven\u2019s King,\n On Christ\u2019s Sunday at morn!\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[625] horn = prow.\n\n\n\n\n_105. The Twelve Good Joys_\n\n\n I\n\n The first good joy our Mary had,\n It was the joy of one,\n To see her own Son Jesus\n To suck at her breast bone;\n To suck at her breast bone, good man,\n And bless\u00e8d may he be,\n Both Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,\n To all eternity.\n\n II\n\n The next good joy our Mary had,\n It was the joy of two,\n To see her own son Jesus\n To make the lame to go;\n To make the lame to go, good man, &c.\n\n III\n\n The next good joy our Mary had,\n It was the joy of three;\n To see her own Son Jesus\n To make the blind to see;\n To make the blind to see, good man, &c.\n\n IV\n\n The next good joy our Mary had,\n It was the joy of four,\n To see her own Son Jesus\n To read the Bible o\u2019er;\n To read the Bible o\u2019er, good man, &c.\n\n V\n\n The next good joy our Mary had,\n It was the joy of five,\n To see her own son Jesus\n To raise the dead alive;\n To raise the dead alive, good man, &c.\n\n VI\n\n The next good joy our Mary had.\n It was the joy of six,\n To see her own Son Jesus\n To wear the crucifix;\n To wear the crucifix, good man, &c.\n\n VII\n\n The next good joy our Mary had,\n It was the joy of seven,\n To see her own Son Jesus\n To wear the crown of Heaven;\n To wear the crown of Heaven, good man, &c.\n\n VIII\n\n The next good joy our Mary had,\n It was the joy of eight,\n To see our bless\u00e8d Saviour\n Turn darkness into light;\n Turn darkness into light, good man, &c.\n\n IX\n\n The next good joy our Mary had,\n It was the joy of nine,\n To see our bless\u00e8d Saviour\n Turn water into wine;\n Turn water into wine, good man, &c.\n\n X\n\n The next good joy our Mary had,\n It was the joy of ten,\n To see our bless\u00e8d Saviour\n To write without a pen;\n To write without a pen, good man, &c.\n\n XI\n\n The next good joy our Mary had,\n It was the joy of eleven,\n To see our bless\u00e8d Saviour\n To show the gates of Heaven;\n To show the gates of Heaven, good man, &c.\n\n XII\n\n The next good joy our Mary had,\n It was the joy of twelve,\n To see our bless\u00e8d Saviour\n Shut close the gates of hell;\n Shut close the gates of hell, good man,\n And bless\u00e8d may he be,\n Both Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,\n To all eternity.\n\n\n\n\n_106. The Angel Gabriel_\n\n\n I\n\n The Angel Gabriel from God\n Was sent to Galilee,\n Unto a Virgin fair and free,\n Whose name was called Mary:\n And when the Angel thither came,\n He fell down on his knee,\n And looking up in the Virgin\u2019s face,\n He said, \u2018All hail, Mary!\u2019\n Then, sing we all, both great and small,\n No\u00ebl, No\u00ebl, No\u00ebl;\n We may rejoice to hear the voice\n Of the Angel Gabriel.\n\n II\n\n Mary anon looked him upon,\n And said, \u2018Sir, what are ye?\n I marvel much at these tidings\n Which thou hast brought to me.\n Married I am unto an old man,\n As the lot fell unto me;\n Therefore, I pray, depart away,\n For I stand in doubt of thee.\u2019\n Then, sing, &c.\n\n III\n\n \u2018Mary,\u2019 he said, \u2018be not afraid,\n But do believe in me:\n The power of the Holy Ghost\n Shall overshadow thee;\n Thou shalt conceive without any grief,\n As the Lord told unto me;\n God\u2019s own dear Son from Heaven shall come\n And shall be born of thee.\u2019\n Then, sing, &c.\n\n IV\n\n This came to pass as God\u2019s will was,\n Even as the Angel told.\n About midnight an Angel bright\n Came to the Shepherds\u2019 fold,\n And told them then both where and when\n Born was the child, our Lord,\n And all along this was their song,\n \u2018All glory be given to God.\u2019\n Then, sing, &c.\n\n V\n\n Good people all, both great and small,\n The which do hear my voice,\n With one accord let\u2019s praise the Lord,\n And in our hearts rejoice;\n Like sister and brother, let\u2019s love one another\n Whilst we our lives do spend,\n Whilst we have space let\u2019s pray for grace,\n And so let my Carol end.\n Then, sing, &c.\n\n\n\n\n_107. The Three Kings_\n\n\n I\n\n Now is Christ\u00ebmas y-come,\n Father and Son together in one,\n Holy Ghost us be on\n In fere-a[626];\n God send us a good New Year-a!\n\n II\n\n I would you sing, for and I might,\n Of a Child is fair in sight;\n His mother him bare this endris[627] night\n So still-a,\n And as it was his will-a.\n\n III\n\n There came three Kings from Galilee\n Into Bethlehem, that fair citie,\n To seek to Him that e\u2019er should be\n By right-a\n Lord and king and knight-a.\n\n IV\n\n As they came forth with their off\u2019ring,\n They met with Herod that moody king;\n He ask\u00e8d them of their coming\n This tide-a,\n And this to them he said-a.\n\n V\n\n \u2018Of whence be ye, you King\u00e8s three?\u2019--\n \u2018Of the East, as you may see,\n To seek to Him that should ever be\n By right-a\n Lord and king and knight-a.\u2019--\n\n VI\n\n \u2018When you at this Child have been,\n Come you home this way again;\n Tell me the sight that you have seen;\n I pray-a,\n Go you none other way-a.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n They took their leave both old and ying[628]\n Then of Herod that moody king;\n They went forth with their offering\n By light-a\n Of the star that shone so bright-a.\n\n VIII\n\n Till they came into the place\n Where Jesu and his mother was;\n Offer\u2019d they up with great solace\n In fere-a\n Gold, incense and myrrh-a.\n\n IX\n\n When they had their offering made\n As the Holy Ghost them bade,\n Then they were both merry and glad\n And light-a;\n It was a good fair sight-a.\n\n X\n\n Anon, as on their way they went,\n The Father of heaven an angel sent\n To these three kings that made present\n This tide-a,\n And this to them he said-a:--\n\n XI\n\n \u2018My Lord hath warn\u2019d you every one\n By Herod king you go not home,\n For an you do he will you slone[629]\n And \u2019stroy-a,\n And hurt you wonderly-a.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n So forth they went another way\n Through the might of God his lay[630],\n As the angel to them did say,\n Full right-a;\n It was a good fair sight-a.\n\n XIII\n\n When they came home to their countrie,\n Glad and blithe they were all three\n Of the sight that they had see;\n By dene-a[631]\n The company was clean-a.\n\n XIV\n\n Kneel we now here a-down;\n Pray we in good devotion\n To the King of great renown,\n Of grace-a\n In heaven to have a place-a.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[626] In fere = in company.\n\n[627] endris = last.\n\n[628] ying = young.\n\n[629] slone = slay.\n\n[630] lay = law.\n\n[631] By dene = at once, or all together.\n\n\n\n\n_108. The Innocents_\n\n\n I\n\n Mark this song, for it is true,\n For it is true as clerk\u00e8s tell:\n In old time strange things came to pass,\n Great wonder and great marvel was\n In Israel.\n\n II\n\n There was one Octavian,\n Octavian of Rome Emperour,\n As book\u00e8s old doe specify,\n Of all the wide world tru\u00ebly\n He was lord and governour.\n\n III\n\n The Jews that time lack\u00e8d a king,\n They lack\u00e8d a king to guide them well,\n The Emperour of power and might,\n Chose one Herod against all right,\n In Israel.\n\n IV\n\n This Herod then was King of Jews\n Was King of Jews, and he no Jew.\n Forsooth he was a Paynim born,\n Wherefore on faith it may be sworn\n He reign\u00e8d King untrue.\n\n V\n\n By prophecy one Isa\u00ef,\n One Isa\u00ef at least did tell\n A child should come (wondrous news)\n That should be born true King of Jews\n In Israel.\n\n VI\n\n This Herod knew one born should be,\n One born should be of true lin\u00e0ge,\n That should be right heritour;\n For he but by the Emperour\n Was made by usurpage.\n\n VII\n\n Wherefore of thought this King Herod,\n This King Herod in great fear fell,\n For all the days most in his mirth,\n Ever he fear\u00e8d Christ his birth\n In Israel.\n\n VIII\n\n The time came it pleas\u00e8d God,\n It pleas\u00e8d God so to come to pass,\n For man\u2019s soul indeed\n His blessed Son was born with speed\n As his will was.\n\n IX\n\n Tidings came to King Herod,\n To King Herod, and did him tell,\n That one born forsooth is he,\n Which lord and king of all shall be\n In Israel.\n\n X\n\n Herod then raged as he were wode[632],\n As he were wode of this tid\u00ecng,\n And sent for all his scrib\u00e8s sure,\n Yet would he not trust the Scripture,\n Nor of their counselling.\n\n XI\n\n Then this was the conclusion,\n The conclusion of his couns\u00e8l;\n To send unto his knights anon\n To slay the children every one\n In Israel.\n\n XII\n\n This cruel king this tyranny,\n This tyranny did put in ure[633];\n Between a day and years two\n All men-children he did slew,\n Of Christ for to be sure.\n\n XIII\n\n Yet Herod miss\u2019d his cruel prey,\n His cruel prey as was God\u2019s will;\n Joseph with Mary then did flee;\n With Christ to Egypt gone was she\n From Israel.\n\n XIV\n\n All the while these tyr\u00e0nts,\n These tyr\u00e0nts would not convert,\n But innocents ying[634]\n That lay sucking,\n They thrust to the heart.\n\n XV\n\n This Herod sought the children ying,\n The children ying, with courage fell,\n But in doing this venge\u00e0nce\n His own son was slain by chance\n In Israel.\n\n XVI\n\n Alace! I think the mothers were woe,\n The mothers were woe, it was great skill[635]:\n What motherly pain\n To see them slain\n In cradles lying still!\n\n XVII\n\n But God Himself hath them elect,\n Hath them elect, in heaven to dwell:\n For they were bath\u00e8d in their blood,\n For their Baptism forsooth it stood\n In Israel.\n\n XVIII\n\n Alace! again what hearts had they,\n What hearts had they those babes to kill!\n With swords when they them caught,\n In cradles they lay and laught,\n And never thought ill.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[632] wode = mad.\n\n[633] ure = practice.\n\n[634] ying = young.\n\n[635] skill = reason.\n\n\n\n\n_109. Dives and Lazarus_\n\n\n I\n\n As it fell out upon a day,\n Rich Dives he made a feast,\n And he invited all his friends\n And gentry of the best.\n\n II\n\n Then Lazarus laid him down and down,\n And down at Dives\u2019 door;\n \u2018Some meat, some drink, brother Dives,\n Bestow upon the poor!\u2019--\n\n III\n\n \u2018Thou art none of my brother, Lazarus,\n That lies begging at my door;\n No meat nor drink will I give thee,\n Nor bestow upon the poor.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n Then Lazarus laid him down and down.\n And down at Dives\u2019 wall,\n \u2018Some meat, some drink, brother Dives,\n Or with hunger starve I shall!\u2019--\n\n V\n\n \u2018Thou art none of my brother, Lazarus,\n That lies begging at my wall;\n No meat nor drink will I give thee,\n But with hunger starve you shall.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n Then Lazarus laid him down and down,\n And down at Dives\u2019 gate:\n \u2018Some meat, some drink, brother Dives,\n For Jesus Christ his sake!\u2019--\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Thou art none of my brother, Lazarus,\n That lies begging at my gate;\n No meat nor drink will I give thee,\n For Jesus Christ his sake.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n Then Dives sent out his merry men,\n To whip poor Lazarus away;\n They had no power to strike a stroke,\n But flung their whips away.\n\n IX\n\n Then Dives sent out his hungry dogs,\n To bite him as he lay;\n They had no power to bite at all,\n But lick\u00e8d his sores away.\n\n X\n\n As it fell out upon a day,\n Poor Lazarus sicken\u2019d and died;\n Then came two angels out of heaven\n His soul therein to guide.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Rise up, rise up, brother Lazarus,\n And go along with me;\n For you\u2019ve a place prepared in heaven,\n To sit on an angel\u2019s knee.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n As it fell out upon a day,\n Rich Dives sicken\u2019d and died;\n Then came two serpents out of hell,\n His soul therein to guide.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018Rise up, rise up, brother Dives,\n And go with us to see\n A dismal place, prepared in hell,\n To sit on a serpent\u2019s knee.\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n Then Dives look\u2019d up with his eyes,\n And saw poor Lazarus blest:\n \u2018Give me one drop of water, brother Lazarus,\n To quench my flaming thirst.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Oh had I as many years to abide\n As there are blades of grass,\n Then there would be an end, but now\n Hell\u2019s pains will ne\u2019er be past!\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018Oh was I now but alive again,\n The space of one half hour!\n Oh that I had my peace secure!\n Then the devil should have no power.\u2019\n\n\n\n\n_110. The Holy Well_\n\n\n I\n\n As it fell out one May morning,\n And upon one bright holiday,\n Sweet Jesus asked of his dear mother,\n If he might go to play.\n\n II\n\n \u2018To play, to play, sweet Jesus shall go,\n And to play pray get you gone;\n And let me hear of no complaint\n At night when you come home.\u2019\n\n III\n\n Sweet Jesus went down to yonder town,\n As far as the Holy Well,\n And there did see as fine children\n As any tongue can tell.\n\n IV\n\n He said, \u2018God bless you every one,\n And your bodies Christ save and see:\n Little children, shall I play with you,\n And you shall play with me?\u2019\n\n V\n\n But they made answer to him, \u2018No:\n They were lords and ladies all;\n And he was but a maiden\u2019s child,\n Born in an ox\u2019s stall.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n Sweet Jesus turn\u00e8d him around,\n And he neither laughed nor smiled,\n But the tears came trickling from his eyes\n To be but a maiden\u2019s child.\n\n VII\n\n Sweet Jesus turn\u00e8d him about,\n To his mother\u2019s dear home went he,\n And said, \u2018I have been in yonder town,\n As far as you can see.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018I have been down in yonder town\n As far as the Holy Well,\n There did I meet as fine children\n As any tongue can tell.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018I bid God bless them every one,\n And their bodies Christ save and see:\n Little children, shall I play with you,\n And you shall play with me?\n\n X\n\n \u2018But they made answer to me, No:\n They were lords and ladies all;\n And I was but a maiden\u2019s child,\n Born in an ox\u2019s stall.\u2019--\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Though you are but a maiden\u2019s child,\n Born in an ox\u2019s stall,\n Thou art the Christ, the King of heaven,\n And the Saviour of them all.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Sweet Jesus, go down to yonder town\n As far as the Holy Well,\n And take away those sinful souls,\n And dip them deep in hell.\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018Nay, nay,\u2019 sweet Jesus said,\n \u2018Nay, nay, that may not be,\n For there are too many sinful souls\n Crying out for the help of me.\u2019\n\n\n\n\n_111. The Seven Virgins_\n\n\n I\n\n All under the leaves and the leaves of life\n I met with virgins seven,\n And one of them was Mary mild,\n Our Lord\u2019s mother of Heaven.\n\n II\n\n \u2018O what are you seeking, you seven fair maids,\n All under the leaves of life?\n Come tell, come tell, what seek you\n All under the leaves of life?\u2019\n\n III\n\n \u2018We\u2019re seeking for no leaves, Thomas,\n But for a friend of thine;\n We\u2019re seeking for sweet Jesus Christ,\n To be our guide and thine.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n \u2018Go down, go down, to yonder town,\n And sit in the gallery,\n And there you\u2019ll see sweet Jesus Christ\n Nail\u2019d to a big yew-tree.\u2019\n\n V\n\n So down they went to yonder town\n As fast as foot could fall,\n And many a grievous bitter tear\n From the virgins\u2019 eyes did fall.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018O peace, Mother, O peace, Mother,\n Your weeping doth me grieve:\n I must suffer this,\u2019 He said,\n \u2018For Adam and for Eve\n\n VII\n\n \u2018O Mother, take you John Evangelist\n All for to be your son,\n And he will comfort you sometimes,\n Mother, as I have done.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018O come, thou John Evangelist,\n Thou\u2019rt welcome unto me;\n But more welcome my own dear Son,\n Whom I nursed on my knee.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n Then He laid his head on His right shoulder.\n Seeing death it struck Him nigh--\n \u2018The Holy Ghost be with your soul,\n I die, Mother dear, I die.\u2019\n\n X\n\n O the rose, the gentle rose,\n And the fennel that grows so green!\n God give us grace in every place\n To pray for our king and queen.\n\n XI\n\n Furthermore for our enemies all\n Our prayers they should be strong:\n Amen, good Lord; your charity\n Is the ending of my song.\n\n\n\n\nPART II\n\n\n\n\nBOOK V\n\n\n\n\n_112. Robyn and Gandelyn_\n\n\n I\n\n I herde a carpyng[636] of a clerk,\n Al at yone wodes ende,\n Of gode Robyn and Gandeleyn;\n Was ther non other thynge.\n _Robynn lyth in grene wode bowndyn._\n\n II\n\n Stronge thevys wern tho chylderin none,\n But bowmen gode and hende[637];\n He[638] wentyn to wode to getyn hem fleych,\n If God wold it hem sende.\n\n III\n\n Al day wentyn tho chylderin two,\n And fleych fowndyn he non,\n Til it were ageyn evyn[639];\n The chylderin wold gon hom.\n\n IV\n\n Half an honderid of fat falyf der\n He comyn ayon[640],\n And alle he wern fayr and fat i-now,\n But markyd was ther non:\n \u2018Be dere God,\u2019 seyde gode Robyn,\n \u2018Hereof we shul have on[641].\u2019\n\n V\n\n Robyn bent his joly bowe,\n Ther in he set a flo[642];\n The fattest der of alle\n The herte he clef a to[643].\n\n VI\n\n He hadde not the der i-flawe[644],\n Ne half out of the hyde,\n There cam a schrewde[645] arwe out of the west,\n That felde Robertes pryde.\n\n VII\n\n Gandeleyn lokyd hym est and west,\n Be every syde:\n \u2018Hoo hat myn mayster slayin?\n Ho hat don this dede?\n Shal I never out of grene wode go\n Til I se his sydis blede.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n Gandeleyn lokyd hym est and west,\n And sowt under the sunne;\n He saw a lytil boy,\n He clepyn[646] Wrennok of Donne.\n\n IX\n\n A good bowe in his hond,\n A brod arwe ther-ine,\n And fowre and twenti goode arwys,\n Trusyd[647] in a thrumme[648]:\n \u2018Be war the, war the, Gandeleyn,\n Her-of thu shalt han summe!\n\n X\n\n \u2018Be war the, war the, Gandeleyn,\n Her of thu gyst[649] plent\u00e9!\u2019--\n \u2018Ever on for an other,\u2019 seyde Gandeleyn;\n \u2018Mysaunter[650] have he shal fle.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Qwer-at shal our marke be?\u2019\n Seyde Gandeleyn.--\n \u2018Everyche at otheris herte,\u2019\n Seyde Wrennok ageyn.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Ho[651] shal yeve the ferste schote?\u2019\n Seyde Gandeleyn.\n \u2018And I shul yeve[652] the on be-forn,\u2019\n Seyde Wrennok ageyn.\n\n XIII\n\n Wrennok schette a ful good schote,\n And he schet not to hye;\n Throw the sanchothis[653] of his bryk[654];\n It towcyhd neyther thye.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018Now hast thu yovyn me on[655] be-forn,\u2019\n Al thus to Wrennok seyde he,\n \u2018And throw the myyt of our lady\n A bettere I shal yeve the.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n Gandeleyn bent his goode bowe,\n And set ther-in a flo;\n He schet throw his grene certyl[656],\n His herte he clef on too.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018Now shall thu never yelpe[657], Wrennok,\n At ale ne at wyn,\n That thu hast slawe goode Robyn,\n And his knave Gandeleyn.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018Now shalt thu never yelpe, Wrennok,\n At wyn ne at ale,\n That thu hast slawe goode Robyn,\n And Gandeleyn his knave.\u2019\n _Robyn lyth in grene wode bowndyn._\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[636] carpyng = talking, tale.\n\n[637] hende = gracious, courteous.\n\n[638] He = they.\n\n[639] ageyn evyn = towards evening.\n\n[640] He comyn ayon = came over against them, in their path.\n\n[641] on = one.\n\n[642] flo = arrow.\n\n[643] a to = in two.\n\n[644] i-flawe = flayed.\n\n[645] schrewde = sharp.\n\n[646] He clepyn = whom they call.\n\n[647] Trusyd = trussed, bound up.\n\n[648] thrumme = end of a warp.\n\n[649] gyst = gettest.\n\n[650] Mysaunter = misadventure.\n\n[651] Ho = who.\n\n[652] yeve = give.\n\n[653] sanchothis = fork.\n\n[654] bryk = breeches.\n\n[655] yovyn me on = given me one.\n\n[656] certyl = kirtle.\n\n[657] yelpe = brag.\n\n\n\n\n_113. The Birth of Robin Hood_\n\n\n I\n\n O Willie\u2019s large o\u2019 limb and lith[658],\n And come o\u2019 high degree,\n And he is gane to Earl Richard,\n To serve for meat and fee.\n\n II\n\n Earl Richard had but ae daughter,\n Fair as a lily-flower,\n And they made up their love-contract\n Like proper paramour.\n\n III\n\n It fell upon a simmer\u2019s nicht,\n Whan the leaves were fair and green,\n That Willie met his gay ladie\n Intil the wood alane.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018O narrow is my gown, Willie,\n That wont to be sae wide;\n And gane is a\u2019 my fair colour,\n That wont to be my pride.\n\n V\n\n \u2018But gin my father should get word\n What\u2019s past between us twa,\n Before that he should eat or drink,\n He\u2019d hang you o\u2019er that wa\u2019.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018But ye\u2019ll come to my bower, Willie,\n Just as the sun gaes down,\n And kep[659] me in your arms twa,\n And latna me fa\u2019 down.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n O whan the sun was now gane down,\n He\u2019s doen him till her bower,\n And there, by the lee licht o\u2019 the moon,\n Her window she lookit o\u2019er.\n\n VIII\n\n Intill a robe o\u2019 red scarl\u00e8t\n She lap, fearless o\u2019 harm;\n And Willie was large o\u2019 lith and limb,\n And keppit her in his arm.\n\n IX\n\n And they\u2019ve gane to the gude green-wood,\n And, ere the night was deen,\n She\u2019s born to him a bonny young son,\n Amang the leaves sae green.\n\n X\n\n Whan night was gane, and day was come,\n And the sun began to peep,\n Up and raise the Earl Richard\n Out o\u2019 his drowsy sleep.\n\n XI\n\n He\u2019s ca\u2019d upon his merry young men,\n By ane, by twa, and by three:\n \u2018O what\u2019s come o\u2019 my daughter dear,\n That she\u2019s nae come to me?\n\n XII\n\n \u2018I dreamt a dreary dream last night,\n God grant it come to gude!\n I dreamt I saw my daughter dear\n Drown in the saut sea flood.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018But gin my daughter be dead or sick,\n Or yet be stown awa\u2019,\n I mak a vow, and I\u2019ll keep it true,\n I\u2019ll hang ye ane and a\u2019!\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n They sought her back, they sought her fore,\n They sought her up and down;\n They got her in the gude green-wood,\n Nursing her bonny young son.\n\n XV\n\n He took the bonny boy in his arms,\n And kist him tenderlie;\n Says, \u2018Though I would your father hang,\n Your mother\u2019s dear to me.\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n He kist him o\u2019er and o\u2019er again:\n \u2018My grandson I thee claim,\n And Robin Hood in gude green-wood,\n And that shall be your name.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n And mony ane sings o\u2019 grass, o\u2019 grass,\n And mony ane sings o\u2019 corn,\n And mony ane sings o\u2019 Robin Hood\n Kens little whare he was born.\n\n XVIII\n\n It wasna in the ha\u2019, the ha\u2019,\n Nor in the painted bower;\n But it was in the gude green-wood,\n Amang the lily-flower.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[658] lith = joint.\n\n[659] kep = catch.\n\n\n\n\n_114. Adam Bell, Clym of the Clough, and William of Cloudesley_\n\n\n _Fytte the First_\n\n I\n\n Mery it was in the grene foreste\n Amonge the lev\u00e8s grene,\n Wheras men hunt east and west\n Wyth bowes and arrowes kene;\n\n II\n\n To raise the dere out of theyr denne;\n Suche sightes hath ofte bene sene;\n As by thre yemen of the north countrey,\n By them it is I meane.\n\n III\n\n The one of them hight Adam Bell,\n The other Clym of the Clough[660],\n The thyrd was Wyllyam of Cloudesley,\n An archer good ynough.\n\n IV\n\n They were outlaw\u2019d for venyson,\n These yemen everych-one;\n They swore them brethren upon a day,\n To Englyshe-wood[661] for to gone.\n\n V\n\n Now lith[662] and lysten, gentylmen,\n That of myrthes loveth to here:\n Two of them were single men,\n The third had a wedded fere[663].\n\n VI\n\n Wyllyam was the wedded man,\n Muche more then was hys care:\n He sayde to hys brethren upon a day,\n To Carleile he would fare;\n\n VII\n\n For to speke with fayre Alyce his wife,\n And with hys chyldren thre.\n \u2018By my trouth,\u2019 sayde Adam Bel,\n \u2018Not by the counsell of me:\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018For if ye go to Carleile, brother,\n And from thys wylde wode wende,\n If that the Justice may you take,\n Your lyfe were at an ende.\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018If that I come not to-morowe, brother,\n By pryme[664] to you agayne,\n Truste you then that I am taken,\n Or else that I am slayne.\u2019\n\n X\n\n He toke his leave of hys brethren two,\n And to Carleile he is gon:\n There he knock\u2019d at his owne wind\u00f2we\n Shortlye and anone.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Wher be you, fayre Alyce,\u2019 he sayd,\n \u2018My wife and chyldren three?\n Lyghtly let in thyne owne husb\u00e0nde,\n Wyllyam of Cloudesley.\u2019--\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Alas!\u2019 then sayde fayre Alyce,\n And sygh\u00e8d wonderous sore,\n \u2018Thys place hath ben besette for you\n Thys half\u00e8 yere and more.\u2019--\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018Now am I here,\u2019 sayde Cloudesley,\n \u2018I would that in I were.\n Now fetche us meate and drynke ynoughe,\n And let us make good chere.\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n She fetch\u00e8d hym meate and drynke plentye,\n Lyke a true wedded wyfe;\n And pleas\u00e8d hym with that she had,\n Whom she loved as her lyfe.\n\n XV\n\n There lay an old wyfe in that place,\n A lytle besyde the fyre,\n Whych Wyllyam had found[665] of charytye\n More than seven yere.\n\n XVI\n\n Up she rose, and forth shee goes,\n Evel mote shee speede therfore!\n For shee had sett no foote on ground\n In seven yere before.\n\n XVII\n\n She went unto the Justice Hall,\n As fast as she could hye:\n \u2018Thys night,\u2019 shee sayd, \u2018is come to town\n Wyllyam of Cloudesly\u00e8.\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n Thereof the Justice was full fayne[666],\n And so was the Shirife also:\n \u2018Thou shalt not trauaile hither, dame, for nought,\n Thy meed thou shalt have or thou go.\u2019\n\n XIX\n\n They gave to her a ryght good goune,\n Of scarlate, [and of graine]:\n She toke the gyft, and home she wente,\n And couch\u00e8d her doune agayne.\n\n XX\n\n They raysed the towne of mery Carleile\n In all the haste they can;\n And came thronging to Wyllyam\u2019s house,\n As fast as they might gone.\n\n XXI\n\n There they besette that good yeman\n Round about on every syde:\n Wyllyam hearde great noyse of folkes,\n That thither-ward fast hyed.\n\n XXII\n\n Alyce opened a backe wyndowe,\n And lok\u00e8d all aboute;\n She was ware of the Justice and Shirife bothe,\n Wyth a full great route.\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018Alas! treason!\u2019 cryed Alyce,\n \u2018Ever wo may thou be!\n Goe into my chamber, my husband,\u2019 she sayd,\n \u2018Swete Wyllyam of Cloudesley.\u2019\n\n XXIV\n\n He toke hys sword and hys buckler,\n Hys bow and hys chyldren thre,\n And wente into hys strongest chamber,\n Where he thought surest to be.\n\n XXV\n\n Fayre Alyce, like a lover true,\n Took a polaxe in her hande:\n Said, \u2018He shall dye that cometh in\n Thys dore, whyle I may stand.\u2019\n\n XXVI\n\n Cloudesley bente a wel good bowe,\n That was of a trusty tre,\n He smot the Justice on the brest,\n That hys arowe brast in three.\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018God\u2019s curse on his harte,\u2019 saide Wyllyam,\n \u2018Thys day thy cote dyd on!\n If it had ben no better then myne,\n It had gone nere thy bone.\u2019--\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018Yelde the Cloudesley,\u2019 sayd the Justice,\n \u2018And thy bowe and thy arrowes the fro.\u2019--\n \u2018God\u2019s curse on hys hart,\u2019 sayd fair Alyce,\n \u2018That my husband councelleth so!\u2019--\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018Set fyre on the house,\u2019 saide the Sherife,\n \u2018Syth it wyll no better be,\n And brenne we therin Wyllyam,\u2019 he saide,\n \u2018Hys wyfe and chyldren thre.\u2019\n\n XXX\n\n They fyred the house in many a place,\n The fyre flew up on hye:\n \u2018Alas!\u2019 then cry\u00e8d fayre Alyce,\n \u2018I see we here shall dye.\u2019\n\n XXXI\n\n Wyllyam openyd a backe wyndowe,\n That was in hys chamber hie,\n And there with sheetes he did let downe\n His wyfe and children three.\n\n XXXII\n\n \u2018Have you here my treasure,\u2019 sayde Wyllyam,\n \u2018My wyfe and my chyldren thre:\n For Christ\u00e8s love do them no harme,\n But wreke you all on me.\u2019\n\n XXXIII\n\n Wyllyam shot so wonderous well,\n Tyll hys arrowes were all agoe,\n And the fyre so fast upon hym fell,\n That hys bowstryng brent in two.\n\n XXXIV\n\n The sparkles brent and fell upon\n Good Wyllyam of Cloudesley:\n Than was he a wofull man, and sayde,\n \u2018Thys is a cowardes death to me.\n\n XXXV\n\n \u2018Leever had I,\u2019 sayde Wyllyam,\n \u2018With my sworde in the route to renne,\n Then here among myne enemyes wode[667]\n Thus cruelly to bren.\u2019\n\n XXXVI\n\n He toke hys sword and hys buckler,\n And among them all he ran,\n Where the people were most in prece[668],\n He smot downe many a man.\n\n XXXVII\n\n There myght no man abyde hys stroakes,\n So fersly on them he ran:\n Then they threw windowes and dores on him,\n And so toke that good yem\u00e0n.\n\n XXXVIII\n\n There they hym bounde both hand and fote,\n And in a deepe dungeon him cast:\n \u2018Now Cloudesley,\u2019 sayd the Justice,\n \u2018Thou shalt be hang\u00e8d in hast.\u2019\n\n XXXIX\n\n \u2018A payre of new gallowes,\u2019 sayd the Sherife,\n \u2018Now shal I for thee make;\u2019\n And the gates of Carleile shal be shutte:\n No man shal come in therat.\n\n XL\n\n \u2018Then shall not helpe Clym of the Clough,\n Nor yet shall Adam Bell,\n Though they came with a thousand mo,\n Nor all the devels in hell.\u2019\n\n XLI\n\n Early in the mornynge the Justice uprose,\n To the gates first can he gone,\n And commaunded to be shut full close\n Lightil\u00e8 everych-one.\n\n XLII\n\n Then went he to the markett place,\n As fast as he coulde hye;\n There a payre of new gallowes he set up\n Besyde the pyllorye.\n\n XLIII\n\n A lytle boy among them asked,\n What mean\u00e8d that gallow-tre?\n They sayde to hange a good yem\u00e0n,\n Called Wyllyam of Cloudesl\u00e8y.\n\n XLIV\n\n That lytle boye was the towne swyne-heard,\n And kept fayre Alyce\u2019s swyne;\n Oft he had seene Wyllyam in the wodde,\n And geven hym there to dyne.\n\n XLV\n\n He went out att a crevis of the wall,\n And lightly to the woode dyd gone;\n There met he with these wight yemen\n Shortly and anone.\n\n XLVI\n\n \u2018Alas!\u2019 then sayde the lytle boye,\n \u2018Ye tary here all too longe;\n Cloudeslee is taken, and dampned[669] to death,\n And readye for to honge.\u2019\n\n XLVII\n\n \u2018Alas!\u2019 then sayd good Adam Bell,\n \u2018That ever we saw thys daye!\n He had better have tarryed with us,\n So ofte as we dyd him praye.\n\n XLVIII\n\n \u2018He myght have dwelt in grene foreste,\n Under the shadowes greene,\n And have kepte both hym and us att reste,\n Out of all trouble and teene[670].\u2019\n\n XLIX\n\n Adam bent a ryght good bow,\n A great hart sone hee had slayne:\n \u2018Take that, chylde, to thy dynner,\n And bryng me myne arrowe agayne.\u2019\n\n L\n\n \u2018Now go we hence,\u2019 sayed these wight yeomen,\n \u2018Tarry we no longer here;\n We shall hym borowe[671] by God his grace,\n Though we buy itt full dere.\u2019\n\n LI\n\n To Carleile wente these bold yemen,\n All in a mornyng of maye.--\n Here is a Fyt of Cloudesley,\n And another is for to saye.\n\n\n _Fytte the Second_\n\n LII\n\n And when they came to mery Carleile,\n In a fayre mornyng tyde,\n They founde the gates shut them untyll\n About on every syde.\n\n LIII\n\n \u2018Alas!\u2019 then sayd good Adam Bell,\n \u2018That ever we were made men!\n These gates be shut so wonderly well,\n We may not come therein.\u2019\n\n LIV\n\n Then bespake him Clym of the Clough,\n \u2018With a wyle we wyl us in bryng;\n Let us say we be messengers,\n Streyght comen from our King.\u2019\n\n LV\n\n Adam said, \u2018I have a letter written,\n Now let us wysely werke,\n We wyl saye we have the Kyng\u00e8\u2019s seale;\n I holde the porter no clerke.\u2019\n\n LVI\n\n Then Adam Bell bete on the gates\n With strok\u00e8s great and stronge:\n The porter herde such a noyse therat,\n And to the gates he thronge[672].\n\n LVII\n\n \u2018Who is there now,\u2019 sayd the porter,\n \u2018That maketh all thys knockinge?\u2019--\n \u2018We be two messengers,\u2019 quoth Clym of the Clough,\n \u2018Be come ryght from our Kynge.\u2019--\n\n LVIII\n\n \u2018We have a letter,\u2019 sayd Adam Bell,\n \u2018To the Justice we must it brynge;\n Let us in our message to do,\n That we were agayne to the Kynge.\u2019--\n\n LIX\n\n \u2018Here commeth none in,\u2019 sayd the porter,\n \u2018By hym that dyed on a tre,\n Tyll a false thefe be hang\u00e8d,\n Called Wyllyam of Cloudesley.\u2019\n\n LX\n\n Then spake the good yeman, Clym of the Clough,\n And swore by Mary fre,\n \u2018And if that we stande long wythout,\n Lyke a thefe hang\u00e8d shalt thou be.\n\n LXI\n\n \u2018Lo! here we have got the Kynge\u2019s seale:\n What, lordane[673], art thou wode[674]?\u2019\n The porter wende[675] it had ben so,\n And lyghtly dyd off hys hode.\n\n LXII\n\n \u2018Welcome is my lordes seale,\u2019 he saide;\n \u2018For that ye shall come in.\u2019\n He opened the gate right shortlye:\n An evyl openyng for him!\n\n LXIII\n\n \u2018Now are we in,\u2019 sayde Adam Bell,\n \u2018Wherof we are full faine;\n But Christ he knowes, that harowed hell,\n How we shall come out agayne.\u2019\n\n LXIV\n\n \u2018Had we the keys,\u2019 said Clym of the Clough,\n \u2018Ryght wel then shoulde we spede,\n Then might we come out wel ynough\n When we se tyme and nede.\u2019\n\n LXV\n\n They call\u00e8d the porter to counsell,\n And wrang his necke in two,\n And caste hym in a depe dungeon,\n And toke hys keys hym fro.\n\n LXVI\n\n \u2018Now am I porter,\u2019 sayd Adam Bell,\n \u2018Se, brother, the keys are here!\n The worst porter to merry Carleile\n That ye had thys hundred yere.\n\n LXVII\n\n \u2018And now wyll we our bow\u00e8s bend,\n Into the towne wyll we go,\n For to delyver our dere broth\u00e8r,\n That lyeth in care and wo.\u2019\n\n LXVIII\n\n Then they bent theyr good yew bowes,\n And lok\u00e8d theyr stringes were round[676],\n The market-place of mery Carleile\n They beset in that stound[677].\n\n LXIX\n\n And, as they lok\u00e8d them besyde,\n A paire of new galowes they see,\n And the Justice with a quest of swerers[678],\n That judged Cloudesley hang\u00e8d to be.\n\n LXX\n\n And Cloudesley lay redy in a cart,\n Fast bound both fote and hand;\n And a stronge rope about hys necke,\n All readye for to be hang\u2019d.\n\n LXXI\n\n The Justice called to him a ladde,\n Cloudesley\u2019s clothes shold hee have,\n To take the measure of that yeman,\n Thereafter to make hys grave.\n\n LXXII\n\n \u2018I have sene as great mervaile,\u2019 said Cloudesley,\n \u2018As betweyne thys and pryme,\n He that maketh a grave for mee,\n Hymselfe may lye therin.\u2019\n\n LXXIII\n\n \u2018Thou speakest proudlye,\u2019 said the Justice,\n \u2018I will thee hange with my hande.\u2019\n Full wel herd this his brethren two,\n There styll as they dyd stande.\n\n LXXIV\n\n Then Cloudesley cast his eyen asyde\n And saw hys brethren stande\n At a corner of the market place,\n With theyr good bowes bent in theyr hand.\n\n LXXV\n\n \u2018I se comfort,\u2019 sayd Cloudesley;\n \u2018Yet hope I well to fare;\n If I might have my handes at wyll.\n Ryght lytell wolde I care.\u2019\n\n LXXVI\n\n Then bespake good Adam Bell\n To Clym of the Clough so fre,\n \u2018Brother, se you marke the Justyce wel;\n Lo! yonder you may him se:\n\n LXXVII\n\n \u2018And at the Sheryfe shote I wyll\n Strongly wyth an arrowe kene.\u2019--\n A better shote in mery Carleile\n Thys seven yere was not sene.\n\n LXXVIII\n\n They loosed their arrowes both at once,\n Of no man had they drede;\n The one hyt the Justice, the other the Sheryfe,\n That both theyr sides gan blede.\n\n LXXIX\n\n All men voyded[679], that them stode nye,\n When the Justice fell to the grounde,\n And the Sheryfe fell nye hym by;\n Eyther had his deathes wounde.\n\n LXXX\n\n All the citezeyns fast gan flye,\n They durst no longer abyde:\n There lyghtly they los\u00e8d Cloudesley,\n Where he with ropes lay tyde.\n\n LXXXI\n\n Wyllyam start to an officer of the towne,\n Hys axe out hys hand he wronge,\n On ech\u00e8 syde he smote them downe,\n Hym thought he taryed to long.\n\n LXXXII\n\n Wyllyam sayde to hys brethren two,\n \u2018Thys daye let us lyve and die,\n If e\u2019er you have nede, as I have now,\n The same you shall finde by me.\u2019\n\n LXXXIII\n\n They shot so well in that tyde\n (Theyr stringes were of silke ful sure)\n That they kept the stretes on every side;\n That batayle did long endure.\n\n LXXXIV\n\n They fought together as brethren true,\n Lyke hardy men and bolde,\n Many a man to the ground they threw,\n And many a herte made colde.\n\n LXXXV\n\n But when their arrowes were all gon,\n Men presyd to them full fast,\n They drew theyr sword\u00e8s then anone,\n And theyr bow\u00e8s from them cast.\n\n LXXXVI\n\n They went lyghtlye on theyr way,\n Wyth swordes and bucklers round;\n By that it was mydd of the day,\n They had made many a wound.\n\n LXXXVII\n\n There was many an out-horne[680] in Carleile blowen,\n And the belles backwarde dyd ryng;\n Many a woman sayde, Alas!\n And many theyr handes dyd wryng.\n\n LXXXVIII\n\n The Mayre of Carleile forth com was,\n Wyth hym a ful great route:\n These thre yemen dred hym full sore,\n For theyr lyv\u00e8s stode in doute.\n\n LXXXIX\n\n The Mayre came arm\u00e8d a full great pace,\n With a polaxe in hys hande;\n Many a strong man wyth him was,\n There in that stowre[681] to stande.\n\n XC\n\n The Mayre smot at Cloudesley with his byll,\n Hys buckler he brast in two,\n Full many a yeman with great yll,\n \u2018Alas! Treason!\u2019 they cryed for wo.\n \u2018Kepe well the gat\u00e8s fast we wyll,\n That these traytours therout not go.\u2019\n\n XCI\n\n But al for nought was that they wrought,\n For so fast they downe were layde,\n Tyll they all thre, that so manfully fought\n Were gotten without, at a braide[682].\n\n XCII\n\n \u2018Have here your keys,\u2019 sayd Adam Bell,\n \u2018Myne office I here forsake;\n And yf you do by my counsell\n A new porter do ye make.\u2019\n\n XCIII\n\n He threw theyr keys there at theyr hedes,\n And bad them well to thryve,\n And all that letteth[683] any good yeman\n To come and comfort his wyfe.\n\n XCIV\n\n Thus be these good yeman gon to the wode\n As lyghtly as lefe on lynde[684];\n They laughe and be mery in theyr mode,\n Theyr enemyes were farre behynd.\n\n XCV\n\n When they came to Inglyswode,\n Under theyr trysty tre,\n There they found bow\u00e8s full good,\n And arrow\u00e8s great plentye.\n\n XCVI\n\n \u2018So God me help,\u2019 sayd Adam Bell,\n And Clym of the Clough so fre,\n \u2018I would we were in mery Carleile,\n Before that fayre meynye[685].\u2019\n\n XCVII\n\n They set them downe, and made good chere,\n And eate and dranke full well.--\n A second Fyt of the wightye yeomen:\n Another I wyll you tell.\n\n\n _Fytte the Third._\n\n XCVIII\n\n As they sat in Inglyswode,\n Under theyr trysty tre[686],\n They thought they herd a woman wepe,\n But her they mought not se.\n\n XCIX\n\n Sore sygh\u00e8d there fayre Alyce, and sayd\n \u2018That ever I sawe thys day!\n For nowe is my dere husband slayne:\n Alas! and wel-a-waye!\n\n C\n\n \u2018Myght I have spoken wyth hys dere brethren,\n Or with eyther of them twayne,\n To show to them what him befell,\n My hart were out of payne.\u2019\n\n CI\n\n Cloudesley walked a lytle beside,\n Looked under the grene wood lynde,\n He was ware of his wife and chyldren three,\n Full wo in herte and mynde.\n\n CII\n\n \u2018Welcome, wyfe,\u2019 then sayde Wyllyam,\n \u2018Under this trysty tre:\n I had wende yesterday, by swete saynt John,\n Thou sholdest me never have se.\u2019--\n\n CIII\n\n \u2018Now well is me that ye be here,\n My harte is out of wo.\u2019--\n \u2018Dame,\u2019 he sayde, \u2018be mery of chere,\n And thanke my brethren two.\u2019\n\n CIV\n\n \u2018Herof to speake,\u2019 said Adam Bell,\n \u2018I-wis it is no bote:\n The meate, that we must supp withall,\n It runneth yet fast on fote.\u2019\n\n CV\n\n Then went they downe into a launde[687].\n These noble archars all thre;\n Eche of them slew a hart of greece[688].\n The best they cold there se.\n\n CVI\n\n \u2018Have here the best, Alyce, my wyfe,\u2019\n Sayde Wyllyam of Cloudesley;\n \u2018By cause ye so bouldly stode me by\n When I was slayne full nye.\u2019\n\n CVII\n\n Then wente they to theyr suppere\n Wyth such meate as they had;\n And thank\u00e8d God of theyr fortune:\n They were both mery and glad.\n\n CVIII\n\n And when that they had supp\u00e8d well,\n Certayne withouten lease[689],\n Cloudesley sayd, \u2018We wyll to our Kynge,\n To get us a charter of peace.\n\n CIX\n\n \u2018Alyce shal be at sojournyng\n In a nunnery here besyde;\n My tow[690] sonnes shall wyth her go,\n And there they shall abyde.\n\n CX\n\n \u2018My eldest son shall go wyth me;\n For hym have I no care:\n And he shall bring you worde agayn,\n How that we do fare.\u2019\n\n CXI\n\n Thus be these wightmen[691] to London gone\n As fast as they myght hye,\n Tyll they came to the Kynge\u2019s pall\u00e0ce,\n Where they woulde need\u00e8s be.\n\n CXII\n\n And whan they came to the Kynge\u2019s courte,\n Unto the pallace gate,\n Of no man wold they aske no leave,\n But boldly went in therat.\n\n CXIII\n\n They presyd prestly[692] into the hall,\n Of no man had they dreade:\n The porter came after, and dyd them call,\n And with them began to chyde.\n\n CXIV\n\n The usher sayde, \u2018Yemen, what wold ye have?\n I pray you tell to me.\n You myght thus make offycers shent[693]:\n Good syrs, of whence be ye?\u2019--\n\n CXV\n\n \u2018Syr, we be outlawes of the forest,\n Certayne withouten lease;\n And hether we be come to the Kyng,\n To get us a charter of peace.\u2019\n\n CXVI\n\n And whan they came before our Kynge,\n As it was the lawe of the lande,\n They knel\u00e8d downe without lettyng[694],\n And eche held up his hand.\n\n CXVII\n\n They sayd, \u2018Lord, we beseche you here\n That ye wyll graunt us grace;\n For we have slayne your fat falowe dere\n In many a sondry place.\u2019\n\n CXVIII\n\n \u2018What be your names,\u2019 then said our Kynge,\n \u2018Anone that you tell me?\u2019--\n They sayd, \u2018Adam Bell, Clym of the Clough,\n And Wyllyam of Cloudesley.\u2019--\n\n CXIX\n\n \u2018Be ye those theves,\u2019 then sayd our Kynge,\n \u2018That men have tolde of to me?\n Here to God I make an avowe,\n Ye shal be hang\u00e8d al thre.\n\n CXX\n\n \u2018Ye shal be dead without merc\u1ef3,\n As I am Kynge of this lande.\u2019\n He commanded his officers everich-one,\n Fast on them to lay hande.\n\n CXXI\n\n There they toke these good yemen,\n And arested them al thre:\n \u2018So may I thryve,\u2019 sayd Adam Bell,\n \u2018Thys game lyketh not me!\n\n CXXII\n\n \u2018But, good lorde, we beseche you then,\n That yee graunt us grace,\n Insomuche as we be to you comen,\n Or else we may fro you passe,\n\n CXXIII\n\n \u2018With such weapons as we have here,\n Tyll we be out of your place;\n And yf we lyve this hundred yere,\n We wyll aske you no grace.\u2019\n\n CXXIV\n\n \u2018Ye speake proudly,\u2019 sayd the Kynge;\n \u2018Ye shall be hang\u00e8d all thre.\u2019\n \u2018That were great pitye,\u2019 then sayd the Quene,\n \u2018If any grace myght be.\n\n CXXV\n\n \u2018My lorde, whan I came fyrst into this lande\n To be your wedded wyfe,\n The fyrst boone that I wold aske,\n Ye would graunt it me belyfe[695]:\n\n CXXVI\n\n \u2018And I asked you never none tyll now;\n Therefore, lorde, graunt it me!\u2019--\n \u2018Now aske it, madam,\u2019 sayd the Kynge,\n \u2018And graunted it shal be.\u2019--\n\n CXXVII\n\n \u2018Then, good my lord, I you beseche,\n These yemen graunt ye me.\u2019--\n \u2018Madame, ye myght have asked a boone\n That shuld have been worth them thre.\n\n CXXVIII\n\n \u2018Ye myght have ask\u00e8d towres and townes,\n Parkes and forestes plentye.\u2019--\n \u2018None soe pleasant to my pay[696],\u2019 shee sayd;\n \u2018Nor none so lefe[697] to me.\u2019--\n\n CXXIX\n\n \u2018Madame, sith it is your desyre,\n Your askyng graunted shal be;\n But I had lever have geven you\n Good market-town\u00e8s thre.\u2019\n\n CXXX\n\n The Quen\u00e8 was a glad woman,\n And sayde, \u2018Lord, gramarcy!\n I dare and undertake for them\n That true men shal they be.\n\n CXXXI\n\n \u2018But good lord, speke som mery word,\n That comfort they may se.\u2019--\n \u2018I graunt you grace,\u2019 then sayd our Kynge;\n \u2018Washe, felows, and to meate go ye.\u2019\n\n CXXXII\n\n They had not setten but a whyle,\n Certayne without lesynge,\n There came messengers out of the north\n With letters to our Kynge.\n\n CXXXIII\n\n And whan they came before the Kynge,\n They knelt downe on theyr kne;\n And sayd, \u2018Lord, your officers grete you well,\n Of Carleile in the north countr\u00e8.\u2019\n\n CXXXIV\n\n \u2018How fareth my Justice,\u2019 sayd the Kynge,\n \u2018And my Sheryfe also?\u2019--\n \u2018Syr, they be slayne, without leasynge,\n And many an officer mo.\u2019--\n\n CXXXV\n\n \u2018Who hath them slayne,\u2019 sayd the Kynge,\n \u2018Anone that thou tell me.\u2019--\n \u2018Adam Bell, and Clym of the Clough,\n And Wyllyam of Cloudesley.\u2019--\n\n CXXXVI\n\n \u2018Alas for rewth!\u2019 then sayd our Kynge:\n \u2018My herte is wonderous sore;\n I had lever than a thousande pounde,\n I had knowne of thys before;\n\n CXXXVII\n\n \u2018For I have y-graunted them grace,\n And that forthynketh[698] me:\n But had I knowne all thys before,\n They had been hang\u00e8d all thre.\u2019\n\n CXXXVIII\n\n The Kyng hee opened the letter anone,\n Himselfe he red it thro,\n And founde how these outl\u00e0wes had slain\n Thre hundred men and mo:\n\n CXXXIX\n\n Fyrst the Justice, and the Sheryfe,\n And the Mayre of Carleile towne;\n Of all the constables and catchipolles\n Alyve were scant left one:\n\n CXL\n\n The baylyes, and the bedyls both,\n And the sergeauntes of the law,\n And forty fosters of the fe[699],\n These outlawes had y-slaw;\n\n CXLI\n\n And broke his parks, and slayne his dere;\n Of all they chose the best;\n So per\u00e8lous out-lawes as they were\n Walked not by easte nor west.\n\n CXLII\n\n When the Kynge this letter had red,\n In hys herte he sygh\u00e8d sore:\n \u2018Take up the tables,\u2019 anone he bad,\n \u2018For I may eat no more.\u2019\n\n CXLIII\n\n The Kynge call\u00e8d hys best archars\n To the buttes[700] wyth hym to go:\n \u2018I wyll se these felowes shote,\u2019 he sayd,\n \u2018In the north have wrought this wo.\u2019\n\n CXLIV\n\n The Kynge\u2019s bowmen buske them[701] blyve[702],\n And the Quene\u2019s archers also;\n So dyd these thre wyght yemen;\n With them they thought to go.\n\n CXLV\n\n There twyse or thryse they shote about\n For to assay theyr hande;\n There was no shote these yemen shot,\n That any prycke[703] myght stand.\n\n CXLVI\n\n Then spake Wyllyam of Cloudesley:\n \u2018By God that for me dyed,\n I hold hym never no good archar,\n That shoteth at buttes so wyde.\u2019--\n\n CXLVII\n\n \u2018At what a butte now wold ye shote,\n I pray thee tell to me?\u2019--\n \u2018Nay, syr,\u2019 he sayd, \u2018at such a butte\n As men use in my countr\u00e8.\u2019\n\n CXLVIII\n\n Wyllyam wente into a fyeld,\n And with him his two brethren:\n There they set up two hasell roddes\n Twenty score paces betwene.\n\n CXLIX\n\n \u2018I hold him an archar,\u2019 said Cloudesley,\n \u2018That yonder wande cleveth in two,\u2019--\n \u2018Here is none suche,\u2019 sayd the Kynge,\n \u2018Nor no man can so do.\u2019\n\n CL\n\n \u2018I shall assaye, syr,\u2019 sayd Cloudesley,\n \u2018Or that I farther go.\u2019\n Cloudesley with a bearing arowe[704]\n Clave the wand in two.\n\n CLI\n\n \u2018Thou art the best archer,\u2019 then said the Kynge,\n \u2018Forsothe that ever I se.\u2019--\n \u2018And yet for your love,\u2019 sayd Wyllyam,\n \u2018I wyll do more maystery.\n\n CLII\n\n \u2018I have a sonne is seven yere olde,\n He is to me full deare;\n I wyll hym tye unto a stake:\n All shall se, that be here;\n\n CLIII\n\n \u2018And lay an apple upon hys head,\n And go syxe score paces hym fro,\n And I my selfe with a brode arow\n Shall cleve the apple in two.\u2019\n\n CLIV\n\n \u2018Now hast\u00e8 the,\u2019 then sayd the Kynge,\n \u2018By hym that dyed on a tre,\n But yf thou do not, as thou hest sayde,\n Hang\u00e8d shall thou be.\n\n CLV\n\n \u2018An thou touche his head or gowne,\n In syght that men may se,\n By all the sayntes that be in heaven,\n I shall hange you all thre!\u2019\n\n CLVI\n\n \u2018That I have promised,\u2019 said Wyllyam,\n \u2018That I wyll never forsake.\u2019\n And there even before the Kynge\n In the earth he drove a stake:\n\n CLVII\n\n And bound thereto his eldest sonne,\n And bad hym stand styll thereat;\n And turned the child\u00e8\u2019s face him fro,\n Because he should not start.\n\n CLVIII\n\n An apple upon his head he set,\n And then his bowe he bent:\n Syxe score paces they were out-met[705],\n And thether Cloudesley went\n\n CLIX\n\n There he drew out a fayr brode arrowe,\n --Hys bowe was great and longe,--\n He set that arrowe in his bowe,\n That was both styffe and stronge.\n\n CLX\n\n He pray\u00e8d the people, that was there,\n That they all styll wold stand,\n \u2018For he that shoteth for such a wager,\n Behoveth a stedfast hand.\u2019\n\n CLXI\n\n Muche people pray\u00e8d for Cloudesley,\n That his lyfe sav\u00e8d myght be,\n And whan he made hym redy to shote,\n There was many weeping e\u2019e.\n\n CLXII\n\n But Cloudesley clefte the apple in two,\n That many a man it se;\n \u2018Over God\u2019s forbode,\u2019 sayde the Kynge,\n \u2018That thou shold shote at me!\u2019\n\n CLXIII\n\n \u2018I geve thee eightene pence a day,\n And my bow\u00e8 shalt thou bere,\n And over all the north countr\u00e8\n I make the chyfe ryd\u00e8re[706].\u2019\n\n CLXIV\n\n \u2018And I thyrtene pence,\u2019 said the Quene,\n \u2018By God, and by my fay;\n Come feche thy payment when thou wylt,\n No man shall say the nay.\n\n CLXV\n\n \u2018Wyllyam, I make the a gentleman\n Of clothyng, and of fe:\n And thy brethren yemen of my chambre,\n For they are so semely to se.\n\n CLXVI\n\n \u2018Your sonne, for he is tendre of age,\n Of my wyne-seller he shall be;\n And when he commeth to mans estate,\n Better avaunced shall he be.\n\n CLXVII\n\n \u2018And, Wyllyam, bring me your wife,\u2019 said the Quene,\n \u2018Me longeth her sore to se:\n She shall be my chefe gentlewoman,\n To governe my nurserye.\u2019\n\n CLXVIII\n\n The yemen thanked them all courteously,\n And sayd, \u2018To Rome wyl we wend,\n Of all the synnes, that we have done,\n To be assoyld at his hand.\u2019\n\n CLXIX\n\n So forth be gone these good yem\u00e8n,\n As fast as they might hye;\n And after came and dwell\u2019d with the Kynge,\n And dyed good men all thre.\n\n CLXX\n\n Thus endeth the lyves of these good yem\u00e8n;\n God send them eternall blysse;\n And all, that with a hand-bowe shoteth:\n That of heven they may never mysse!\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[660] Clym of the Clough = Clement of the Cliff.\n\n[661] Englyshe-wood = Inglewood, near Carlisle.\n\n[662] lith = hearken.\n\n[663] fere = mate.\n\n[664] pryme = six in the morning.\n\n[665] found = provided for.\n\n[666] fayne = rejoiced.\n\n[667] wode = wild, savage.\n\n[668] prece = press, crowd.\n\n[669] dampned = condemned.\n\n[670] teene = sorrow.\n\n[671] borowe = ransom, redeem.\n\n[672] thronge = hastened.\n\n[673] lordane = dolt.\n\n[674] wode = mad.\n\n[675] wende = weened, thought.\n\n[676] round = i. e. not frayed.\n\n[677] stound = time.\n\n[678] swerers = swearers, jurymen.\n\n[679] voyded = gave room, ran off.\n\n[680] out-horne = a horn blown to call citizens to help the law.\n\n[681] stowre = press of fight.\n\n[682] braide = sudden spring.\n\n[683] letteth = hindereth.\n\n[684] lynde = linden.\n\n[685] meynye = company.\n\n[686] trysty tre = trysting tree.\n\n[687] launde = forest-park.\n\n[688] of greece = of grease, fat.\n\n[689] lease = lying.\n\n[690] tow = two.\n\n[691] wightmen = stout fellows.\n\n[692] presyd prestly = pressed quickly.\n\n[693] shent = ruined.\n\n[694] lettyng = delay.\n\n[695] belyfe = straightway.\n\n[696] pay = satisfaction.\n\n[697] lefe = dear.\n\n[698] forthynketh = repenteth.\n\n[699] fosters of the fe = foresters of the lordship.\n\n[700] buttes = targets.\n\n[701] buske them = busked, made them ready.\n\n[702] blyve = belyfe _supra_, straightway.\n\n[703] prycke = mark.\n\n[704] bearyng arowe = a long arrow, tapered to carry far.\n\n[705] out-met = measured out.\n\n[706] ryd\u00e8re = ranger.\n\n\n\n\n_115. A Little Geste of Robin Hood and his Meiny[707]_\n\n\n_The First Fytte_\n\nHow Robin Hood befriended a poor Knight, Sir Richard at the Lee\n\n I\n\n Lithe[708] and listen, Gentlemen,\n That be of free-born blood:\n I shall you tell of a good yeoman,\n His name was Robin Hood.\n\n II\n\n Robin was a proud outlaw,\n The while he walked on ground;\n So courteous an outlaw as he was one\n Was never none y-found.\n\n III\n\n Robin stood in Barn\u00e8sdale[709],\n And leaned him to a tree;\n And by him stood Little John,\n A good yeoman was he.\n\n IV\n\n And also did good Scath\u00e8lock,\n And Much, the miller\u2019s son;\n There was none inch of his body,\n But it was worth a groom[710].\n\n V\n\n Then bespake him Little John\n All unto Robin Hood:\n \u2018Master, an ye would dine betimes\n It would do you much good.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n Then bespake him good Robin:\n \u2018To dine I have no lest[711],\n Till that I have some bold baron,\n Or some uncouth[712] guest,\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Till that I have some bold baron\n That may pay for the best,\n Or else some knight, or some squi\u00e8r\n That dwelleth here by West.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n A good mann\u00e8r then had Robin;\n In land where that he were[713],\n Every day ere he would dine\n Three masses would he hear:\n\n IX\n\n The one in worship of the Father,\n The other of the Holy Ghost,\n The third was of Our dear Lady\n That he loved alder-most[714].\n\n X\n\n Robin loved our dear Lady;\n For doubt[715] of deadly sin\n Would he no company do harm\n That woman was therein.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Master,\u2019 then said Little John,\n \u2018An we our board shall spread,\n Tell us whither we shall go,\n And what life we shall lead;\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Where we shall take, where we shall leave,\n Where we shall abide behind,\n Where we shall rob, where we shall reave[716],\n Where we shall beat and bind.\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018Thereof no force[717],\u2019 then said Robin;\n \u2018We shall do well enow;\n But look ye do no husband[718] harm\n That tilleth with his plough.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018No more ye shall no good yeoman\n That walketh by green-wood shaw[719];\n Nor yet no knight nor no squi\u00e8r\n That will be a good fellaw.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018These bishops and these archbishops,\n Ye shall them beat and bind;\n The High Sheriff of Nottingham,\n Him hold ye in your mind.\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018This word shall be held,\u2019 said Little John,\n \u2018This lesson we shall lere[720];\n It is far days[721]; God send us a guest,\n That we were at our dinnere.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018Take thy good bow,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018Let Much wend with thee,\n And so shall William Scath\u00e8lock,\n And no man abide with me;\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018And walk ye up unto the Sayles[722],\n And so to Watling Street[723],\n And wait after some uncouth guest;\n Upchance[724] ye may them meet.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018Be he an earl, or any baron,\n Abbot, or any knight,\n Bring ye him to lodge with me;\n His dinner shall be dight[725].\u2019\n\n XX\n\n Then went they up unto the Sayles,\n Those yeoman all\u00e8 three;\n They look\u00e8d east, they look\u00e8d west,\n They might\u00e8 no man see.\n\n XXI\n\n But as they looked in Barn\u00e8sdale,\n By a dern\u00e8[726] street[727],\n Then came a knight a-riding up;\n Full soon they gan him meet.\n\n XXII\n\n All dreary then was his semblaunt[728],\n And little was his pride;\n His one foot in the stirrup stood,\n The other waved beside.\n\n XXIII\n\n His hood hang\u2019d in his eyen two;\n He rode in simple array;\n A sorrier man than he was one\n Rode never in summer day.\n\n XXIV\n\n Little John was full courteous,\n And set him[729] on his knee;\n \u2018Welcome be ye, gentle Knight,\n Welcome are ye to me.\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018Welcome be thou to green\u00e8 wood.\n Hend\u00e8[730] Knight and free;\n My master hath abiden you fasting\n Sir, all these hour\u00e8s three.\u2019\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018Who is thy master?\u2019 said the Knight.\n John said, \u2018Robin Hood.\u2019\n \u2018He is a good yeoman,\u2019 said the Knight,\n \u2018Of him I have heard much good.\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018I grant,\u2019 he said, \u2018with you to wend,\n My brethren, all in fere[731];\n My purpose was to have dined to-day\n At Blyth[732] of Doncastere.\u2019\n\n XXVIII\n\n Forth then went this gentle Knight,\n With a careful cheer[733];\n The tears out of his eyen ran,\n And fell down by his leer[734].\n\n XXIX\n\n They brought him to the lodg\u00e8 door;\n When Robin gan him see,\n Full courteously did off his hood,\n And set him on his knee.\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018Welcome, Sir Knight,\u2019 then said Robin,\n \u2018Welcome art thou to me;\n I have abiden you fasting, sir,\n All these hour\u00e8s three.\u2019\n\n XXXI\n\n Then answer\u00e8d the gentle Knight,\n With word\u00e8s fair and free;\n \u2018God thee sav\u00e8, good Robin,\n And all thy fair mein\u00e8e.\u2019\n\n XXXII\n\n They wash\u00e8d together and wip\u00e8d both,\n And set to their dinnere;\n Bread and wine they had enough,\n And numbles[735] of the deer.\n\n XXXIII\n\n Swans and pheasants they had full good,\n And fowls of the rivere;\n There fail\u00e8d none so little a bird\n That ever was bred on brere[736].\n\n XXXIV\n\n \u2018Do gladly, Sir Knight,\u2019 said Robin.\n \u2018Gramerci, sir,\u2019 said he;\n \u2018Such a dinner had I not\n Of all these week\u00e8s three.\n\n XXXV\n\n \u2018If I come again, Robin,\n Here by this country,\n As good a dinner I shall thee make\n As thou hast made to me.\u2019\n\n XXXVI\n\n \u2018Gramerci, Knight,\u2019 said Robin Hood;\n \u2018My dinner when I have,\n I was never so greedy, by dear-worth[737] God,\n My dinner for to crave.\n\n XXXVII\n\n \u2018But pray ere ye wend,\u2019 said Robin Hood;\n \u2018Me thinketh it is good right;\n It was never the manner, by dear-worth God,\n A yeoman to pay for a knight.\u2019\n\n XXXVIII\n\n \u2018I have nought in my coffers,\u2019 said the Knight,\n \u2018That I may proffer for shame:\u2019\n \u2018Little John, go look,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018Nor let[738] not for no blame.\u2019\n\n XXXIX\n\n \u2018Tell me truth,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018So God have part of thee[739].\u2019--\n \u2018I have no more than ten shillings,\n So God have part of me.\u2019\n\n XL\n\n \u2018If thou hast no more,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018I will not one penn\u1ef3;\n And if thou need of any more,\n More shall I lend\u00e8 thee.\n\n XLI\n\n \u2018Go now forth, Little John,\n The truth\u00e8 tell thou me;\n If there be no more but ten shillings,\n No penny that I see.\u2019\n\n XLII\n\n Little John his mantle spread\n Full fair upon the ground,\n And there he found in the Knight\u2019s coffer\n But even half a pound.\n\n XLIII\n\n Little John let it lie full still,\n And went to his master low;\n \u2018What tidings, John?\u2019 said Robin Hood.--\n \u2018Sir, the Knight is true enow.\u2019\n\n XLIV\n\n \u2018Fill of the best wine,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018The Knight shall begin;\n Much\u00e8 wonder thinketh me\n Thy clothing is so thin.\n\n XLV\n\n \u2018Tell me one word,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018And counsel[740] shall it be;\n I trow thou wert made a knight of force[741],\n Or else of yeomanry[742].\n\n XLVI\n\n \u2018Or else thou hast been a sorry husband[743],\n And lived in stroke and strife;\n An okerer[744], or a lecher[745],\n With wrong hast led thy life.\u2019\n\n XLVII\n\n \u2018I am none of thos\u00e8,\u2019 said the Knight,\n \u2018By Him that mad\u00e8 me;\n An hundred winter here before\n Mine anc\u2019tors knights have be.\n\n XLVIII\n\n \u2018But oft it hath befal\u2019n, Robin,\n A man hath been disgrate[746];\n But God, that sitteth in heaven above,\n May amend his state.\n\n XLIX\n\n \u2018Within these two years, Robin,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018My neighbours well it kenn\u2019d[747],\n Four hundred pounds of good mon\u00e8y\n Full well then might I spend,\n\n L\n\n \u2018Now have I no good,\u2019 said the Knight,\n \u2018God hath shapen such an end,\n But my children and my wife,\n Till God it may amend.\u2019\n\n LI\n\n \u2018In what mann\u00e8r,\u2019 then said Robin,\n \u2018Hast thou lorn[748] thy richess?\u2019\n \u2018For my great folly,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018And for my kind\u00e8ness.\n\n LII\n\n \u2018I had a son forsooth, Robin,\n That should have been mine heir;\n When he was twenty winter old\n In field would joust full fair.\n\n LIII\n\n \u2018He slew a knight of Lancashire,\n And a squi\u00e8r bold;\n For to save him in his right\n My goods are set and sold.\n\n LIV\n\n \u2018My lands are set to wed[749], Robin,\n Until a certain day,\n To a rich Abbot here beside\n Of St. Mary\u2019s Abb\u00e8y.\u2019\n\n LV\n\n \u2018What is the sum?\u2019 said Robin Hood;\n \u2018The truth\u00e8 tell thou me;\u2019\n \u2018Sir,\u2019 he said, \u2018four hundred pound;\n The Abbot told[750] it me.\u2019\n\n LVI\n\n \u2018An thou lose thy land,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018What shall fall of[751] thee?\u2019--\n \u2018Hastily I will me busk[752]\n Over the salt\u00e8 sea,\n\n LVII\n\n \u2018And see where Christ was quick and dead,\n On the mount of Calvary;\n Farewell, friend, and have good day;\n It may no better be.\u2019\n\n LVIII\n\n Tears fell out of his eyen two;\n He would have gone his way;\n \u2018Farewell, friends, and have good day,\n I have no more to pay.\u2019\n\n LIX\n\n \u2018Where be thy friends,\u2019 said Robin Hood.\n \u2018Sir, never one will me know;\n While I was rich enough at home\n Great boast then would they blow.\n\n LX\n\n \u2018And now they run away from me,\n As beast\u00e8s in a raw[753];\n They tak\u00e8 no more heed of me\n Than they me never saw.\u2019\n\n LXI\n\n For ruth then wept\u00e8 Little John,\n Scath\u00e8lock and Much in fere;\n \u2018Fill of the best wine,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018For here is a simple cheer.\n\n LXII\n\n \u2018Hast thou any friends,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018Thy borrows[754] that will be?\u2019\n \u2018I hav\u00e8 none,\u2019 then said the Knight,\n \u2018But Him that died on tree!\u2019\n\n LXIII\n\n \u2018Do way thy jap\u00e8s[755],\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018Thereof will I right none;\n Ween\u2019st thou I would have God to[756] borrow,\n Peter, Paul or John?\n\n LXIV\n\n \u2018Nay, by Him that mad\u00e8 me,\n And shope[757] both sun and moon,\n Find better borrow,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018Or money get\u2019st thou none.\u2019\n\n LXV\n\n \u2018I have none other,\u2019 said the Knight,\n \u2018The sooth\u00e8 for to say,\n But if[758] it be Our dear Lady;\n She fail\u2019d never ere this day.\u2019\n\n LXVI\n\n \u2018By dear-worth God,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018To seek all England thorough,\n Yet found I never to my pay\n A much\u00e8 better borrow.\n\n LXVII\n\n \u2018Come now forth, Little John,\n And go to my treasur\u1ef3,\n And bring\u00e8 me four hundred pound,\n And look well told it be.\u2019\n\n LXVIII\n\n Forth then went\u00e8 Little John,\n And Scath\u00e8lock went before;\n He told him out four hundred pound\n By eight and twenty score.\n\n LXIX\n\n \u2018Is this well told?\u2019 said Little Much;\n John said, \u2018What grieveth thee?\n It is alms to help a gentle knight\n That is fal\u2019n in poverty.\u2019\n\n LXX\n\n \u2018Master,\u2019 then said Little John,\n \u2018His clothing is full thin;\n Ye must give the Knight a livery\n To lap[759] his body therein.\n\n LXXI\n\n \u2018For ye have scarlet and green, master,\n And many a rich array;\n There is no merchant in merry England\n So rich, I dare well say.\u2019--\n\n LXXII\n\n \u2018Take him three yards of each colo\u00f9r,\n And look well mete[760] it be.\u2019--\n Little John took no meas\u00f9re\n But his bow\u00e8-tree.\n\n LXXIII\n\n And at every handful that he met[761]\n He leap\u00e8d o\u2019er feet three;\n \u2018What devilkin\u2019s draper,\u2019 said Little Much,\n \u2018Thinkest thou for to be?\u2019\n\n LXXIV\n\n Scath\u00e8lock stood full still and laughed,\n And said, \u2018He meteth right.\n John may give him good measure,\n For it costeth him but light.\u2019\n\n LXXV\n\n \u2018Master,\u2019 then said Little John\n All unto Robin Hood,\n \u2018Ye must give the Knight a horse\n To lead home all this good.\u2019\n\n LXXVI\n\n \u2018Take him a grey courser,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018And a saddle new;\n He is Our Lady\u2019s messenger;\n God grant that he be true!\u2019\n\n LXXVII\n\n \u2018And a good palfrey[762],\u2019 said Little Much,\n \u2018To maintain him in his right;\u2019\n \u2018And a pair of boots,\u2019 said Scath\u00e8lock,\n \u2018For he is a gentle knight.\u2019\n\n LXXVIII\n\n \u2018What shalt thou give him, Little John?\u2019--\n \u2018Sir, a pair of gilt spurs clean,\n To pray for all this company;\n God bring him out of teen[763].\u2019\n\n LXXIX\n\n \u2018When shall my day be,\u2019 said the Knight,\n \u2018Sir, an your will\u00e8 be?\u2019--\n \u2018This day twelve moneth,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018Under this green-wood tree.\n\n LXXX\n\n \u2018It were great sham\u00e8,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018A knight alone to ride,\n Without\u00e8 squire, yeoman, or page,\n To walk\u00e8 by his side.\n\n LXXXI\n\n \u2018I shall thee lend Little John, my man,\n For he shall be thy knave[764];\n In a yeoman\u2019s stead he may thee stand,\n If thou great need\u00e8 have.\u2019\n\n\n_The Second Fytte_\n\nHow the Knight paid his Creditors against their will\n\n LXXXII\n\n Now is the Knight gone on his way;\n This game him thought full good;\n When he looked on Barn\u00e8sdale,\n He bless\u00e8d Robin Hood.\n\n LXXXIII\n\n And when he thought on Barn\u00e8sdale,\n On Scathelock, Much, and John,\n He bless\u00e8d them for a company\n The best he ever in come[765].\n\n LXXXIV\n\n Then spake that gentle Knight,\n To Little John gan he say,\n \u2018To-morrow I must to York town\n To Saint Mary\u2019s Abb\u00e8y;\n\n LXXXV\n\n \u2018And to the Abbot of that place\n Four hundred pound must pay;\n But[766] I be there upon this night\n My land is lost for aye.\u2019\n\n LXXXVI\n\n The Abbot said to his Conv\u00e8nt,\n Where he stood on ground,\n \u2018This day twelve moneth came a knight,\n And borrowed four hundred pound.\n\n LXXXVII\n\n \u2018He borrow\u00e8d four hundred pound\n Upon his land and fee[767];\n But he come this ilk\u00e8[768] day\n Disherited shall he be.\u2019\n\n LXXXVIII\n\n \u2018It is full early,\u2019 said the Prior,\n \u2018The day is not yet far gone;\n I had liever pay an hundred pound,\n And lay it down anon.\n\n LXXXIX\n\n \u2018The Knight is far beyond the sea,\n In England is his right,\n And suffereth hunger and cold\n And many a sorry night.\n\n XC\n\n \u2018It were great pity,\u2019 said the Prior,\n \u2018So to have his land;\n An ye be so light of your conscience,\n Ye do him much\u00e8 shand[769].\u2019\n\n XCI\n\n \u2018Thou art ever in my beard[770],\u2019 said the Abbot,\n \u2018By God and Saint Richard!\u2019\n With that came in a fat-headed monk,\n The High\u00e8 Cellar\u00e8r.\n\n XCII\n\n \u2018He is dead or hang\u00e8d,\u2019 said the monk,\n \u2018By Him that bought me dear,\n And we shall have to spend in this place\n Four hundred pound by year.\u2019\n\n XCIII\n\n The Abbot and the High Cellarer\n Started forth full bold,\n The High Justice of Eng\u00e8land\n The Abbot there did hold.\n\n XCIV\n\n The High Justice and many mo\n Had taken into their hand\n Wholly all the Knight\u00e8s debt,\n To put that Knight to shand.\n\n XCV\n\n They deem\u00e8d[771] the Knight wonder sore[772],\n The Abbot and his mein\u00e8e:\n \u2018But he come this ilk\u00e8 day,\n Disherited shall he be.\u2019\n\n XCVI\n\n \u2018He will not come yet,\u2019 said the Justice,\n \u2018I dare well undertake.\u2019\n But in sorry tim\u00e8 for them all\n The Knight came to the gate.\n\n XCVII\n\n Then bespake that gentle Knight\n Until[773] his mein\u00e8e:\n \u2018Now put on your simple weeds\n That ye brought from the sea.\u2019\n\n XCVIII\n\n They putten on their simple weeds,\n They came to the gates anon;\n The Porter was ready himself,\n And welcomed them every one.\n\n XCIX\n\n \u2018Welcome, Sir Knight,\u2019 said the Porter,\n \u2018My lord to meat is he,\n And so is many a gentle man,\n For the love of thee.\u2019\n\n C\n\n The Porter swore a full great oath:\n \u2018By Him that mad\u00e8 me,\n Here be the best\u00e8 cors\u00e8d[774] horse\n That ever yet I see.\n\n CI\n\n \u2018Lead them into the stable,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018That eas\u00e8d might they be\u2019;\n \u2018They shall not come therein,\u2019 said the Knight,\n \u2018By Him that died on tree.\u2019\n\n CII\n\n Lord\u00e8s were to meat y-set\n In that Abbot\u2019s hall;\n The Knight went forth and kneel\u00e8d down\n And salued[775] them great and small.\n\n CIII\n\n \u2018Do gladly, Sir Abbot,\u2019 said the Knight,\n \u2018I am come to hold my day.\u2019\n The first word that the Abbot spake,\n \u2018Hast thou brought me my pay?\u2019\n\n CIV\n\n \u2018Not one penny,\u2019 said the Knight,\n \u2018By Him that mak\u00e8d me\u2019:\n \u2018Thou art a shrewd[776] debtor,\u2019 said the Abbot;\n \u2018Sir Justice, drink to me!\u2019\n\n CV\n\n \u2018What doest thou here,\u2019 said the Abbot,\n \u2018But[777] thou hadst brought thy pay?\u2019\n \u2018Alack is me,\u2019 then said the Knight,\n \u2018To pray of a longer day!\u2019\n\n CVI\n\n \u2018Thy day is broke,\u2019 said the Justice,\n \u2018Land gettest thou none.\u2019--\n \u2018Now, good Sir Justice, be my friend,\n And fend[778] me of my fone[779]!\u2019\n\n CVII\n\n \u2018I am held with the Abbot,\u2019 said the Justice,\n \u2018Both with cloth and fee.\u2019--\n \u2018Now, good Sir Sheriff, be my friend!\u2019\n \u2018Nay, nay, not I,\u2019 said he.\n\n CVIII\n\n \u2018Now, good Sir Abbot, be my friend,\n For thy courtesy,\n And hold my land\u00e8s in thy hand\n Till I have made thee gree[780]\n\n CIX\n\n \u2018And I will be thy true serv\u00e0nt\n And truly serv\u00e8 thee,\n Till ye have four hundred pound\n Of money good and free.\u2019\n\n CX\n\n The Abbot sware a full great oath,\n \u2018By Him that died on tree,\n Get thy land\u00e8s where thou mayst,\n For thou gettest none of me!\u2019\n\n CXI\n\n \u2018By dear-worth God,\u2019 then said the Knight,\n \u2018That all this world\u00e8 wrought,\n But I have[781] my land again,\n Full dear it shall be bought.\n\n CXII\n\n \u2018God, that was of a maiden born,\n Give us well to speed!\n For it is good to assay a friend\n Ere that a man have need.\u2019\n\n CXIII\n\n The Abbot loathly on him gan look,\n And villainously him gan call;\n \u2018Out,\u2019 he said, \u2018thou fals\u00e8 Knight,\n Speed thee out of my hall!\u2019\n\n CXIV\n\n \u2018Thou liest,\u2019 said the gentle Knight;\n \u2018Abbot, in thy hall;\n Fals\u00e8 Knight was I never,\n By God that made us all.\u2019\n\n CXV\n\n Up then stood that gentle Knight,\n To the Abbot said he,\n \u2018To suffer a knight to kneel so long,\n Thou canst[782] no courtesy.\n\n CXVI\n\n \u2018In joust\u00e8s and in tournaments\n Full far then have I be,\n And put myself as far in press[783]\n As any that ever I see.\u2019\n\n CXVII\n\n \u2018What will ye give more,\u2019 said the Justice,\n \u2018An the Knight shall make a release[784]?\n And ell\u00e8s[785] dare I safely swear\n Ye hold never your land in peace.\u2019\n\n CXVIII\n\n \u2018An hundred pound,\u2019 said the Abbot;\n The Justice said, \u2018Give him two;\u2019\n \u2018Nay, by God,\u2019 said the Knight,\n \u2018Ye get not my land so.\n\n CXIX\n\n \u2018Though ye would give a thousand more,\n Yet were ye never the nigher;\n Shall there never be mine heir\n Abbot, Justice, nor Friar.\u2019\n\n CXX\n\n He started to a board anon,\n Till a table round,\n And here he shook out of a bag\n Even four hundred pound.\n\n CXXI\n\n \u2018Have here thy gold, Sir Abbot,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018Which that thou lentest me;\n Hadst thou been courteous at my coming,\n I would have rewarded thee.\u2019\n\n CXXII\n\n The Abbot sat still, and ate no more,\n For all his royal fare;\n He cast his head on his should\u00e8r,\n And fast began to stare.\n\n CXXIII\n\n \u2018Take[786] me my gold again.\u2019 he said,\n \u2018Sir Justice, that I took thee.\u2019--\n \u2018Not a penny,\u2019 said the Justice,\n \u2018By Him that died on tree.\u2019--\n\n CXXIV\n\n \u2018Sir Abbot, and ye men of law,\n Now have I held my day;\n Now shall I have my land again,\n For aught that you can say.\u2019\n\n CXXV\n\n The Knight out started of the door,\n Away was all his care,\n And on he put his good clothing.\n The other he left there.\n\n CXXVI\n\n He went him forth full merry singing,\n As men have told in tale;\n His Lady met him at the gate,\n At home in Uttersdale.\n\n CXXVII\n\n \u2018Welcome, my lord,\u2019 said his Lady;\n \u2018Sir, lost is all your good?\u2019--\n \u2018Be merry, dam\u00e8,\u2019 said the Knight,\n \u2018And pray for Robin Hood,\n\n CXXVIII\n\n \u2018That ever his soul\u00e8 be in bliss:\n He help me out of teen;\n Ne had not been[787] his kind\u00e8ness,\n Beggars had we been.\n\n CXXIX\n\n \u2018The Abbot and I accorded be,\n He is serv\u00e8d of his pay;\n The good\u00e8 yeoman lent it me,\n As I came by the way.\u2019\n\n CXXX\n\n This Knight then dwell\u00e8d fair at home,\n The sooth\u00e8 for to say,\n Till he had got four hundred pound,\n All ready for to pay.\n\n CXXXI\n\n He purvey\u2019d him an hundred bows,\n The string\u00e8s well y-dight,\n An hundred sheaf of arrows good,\n The heads burnish\u2019d full bright;\n\n CXXXII\n\n And every arrow an ell\u00e8 long,\n With peacock well y-dight[788],\n Y-notch\u00e8d all with white silv\u00e8r;\n It was a seemly sight.\n\n CXXXIII\n\n He purvey\u2019d him an hundred men,\n Well harness\u2019d in that stead,\n And himself in that sam\u00e8 suit,\n And clothed in white and red.\n\n CXXXIV\n\n He bare a lancegay[789] in his hand,\n And a man led his mail[790],\n And roden[791] with a light\u00e8 song\n Unto Barn\u00e8sdale.\n\n CXXXV\n\n As he went at a bridge there was a wrestling,\n And there tarri\u00e8d was he,\n And there was all the best yeomen,\n Of all the west countr\u1ef3.\n\n CXXXVI\n\n A full fair game there was upset,\n A white bull up y-pight[792];\n A great courser with saddle and bridle,\n With gold burnish\u2019d full bright;\n\n CXXXVII\n\n A pair of gloves, a red gold ring,\n A pipe of wine, in good fay:\n What man beareth him best, i-wis,\n The prize shall bear away.\n\n CXXXVIII\n\n There was a yeoman in that place,\n And best worthy was he,\n And for he was far and frembd bestad[793],\n I-slain he should have be.\n\n CXXXIX\n\n The Knight had ruth of this yeoman.\n In place where that he stood,\n He said that yeoman should have no harm,\n For love of Robin Hood.\n\n CXL\n\n The Knight press\u00e8d into the place,\n An hundred followed him free,\n With bows bent, and arrows sharp,\n For to shende[794] that company.\n\n CXLI\n\n They shoulder\u2019d all, and made him room,\n To wete[795] what he would say,\n He took the yeoman by the hand\n And gave him all the play;\n\n CXLII\n\n He gave him five mark for his wine,\n There it lay on the mould,\n And bade it should be set a-broach,\n Drink who so would.\n\n CXLIII\n\n Thus long tarried this gentle Knight,\n Till that play was done ...\n So long abode Robin fasting,\n Three hours after the noon.\n\n\n_The Third Fytte_\n\nHow Little John robbed the Sheriff of Nottingham and delivered him into\nRobin Hood\u2019s hands\n\n CXLIV\n\n Lithe and listen, gentlemen,\n All that now be here,\n Of Little John, that was the Knight\u2019s man,\n Good mirth shall ye hear.\n\n CXLV\n\n It was upon a merry day,\n That young men would go shete[796];\n Little John fet[797] his bow anon,\n And said he would them meet.\n\n CXLVI\n\n Three times Little John shot about,\n And alway cleft the wand,\n The proud Sher\u00ecff of Nottingham\n By the marks gan stand.\n\n CXLVII\n\n The Sheriff swore a full great oath,\n \u2018By Him that died on a tree,\n This man is the best arch\u00e8r\n That yet saw I me.\n\n CXLVIII\n\n \u2018Say me now, wight[798] young man,\n What is now thy name?\n In what country were thou born,\n And where is thy woning wane[799]?\u2019--\n\n CXLIX\n\n \u2018In Holderness I was bore,\n I-wis[800], all of my dame,\n Men call me Reynold Greenleaf,\n When I am at hame.\u2019--\n\n CL\n\n \u2018Say me, Reynold Greenleaf,\n Wilt thou dwell with me?\n And every year I will thee give\n Twenty mark to thy fee.\u2019--\n\n CLI\n\n \u2018I have a master,\u2019 said Little John,\n \u2018A courteous knight is he\n May ye get leave of him,\n The better may it be.\u2019\n\n CLII\n\n The Sheriff got Little John\n Twelve months of the Knight,\n Therefore he gave him right anon\n A good horse and a wight.\n\n CLIII\n\n Now is Little John the Sheriff\u2019s man,\n He give us well to speed,\n But alway thought Little John\n To quit him well his meed[801].\n\n CLIV\n\n \u2018Now so God me help,\u2019 said Little John,\n \u2018And by my true lewt\u00e8[802],\n I shall be the worst servant to him\n That ever yet had he.\u2019\n\n CLV\n\n It befell upon a Wednesday,\n The Sheriff on hunting was gone,\n And Little John lay in his bed,\n And was forgotten at home.\n\n CLVI\n\n Therefore he was fasting\n Till it was past the noon.\n \u2018Good sir steward, I pray thee,\n Give me to dine,\u2019 said Little John.\n\n CLVII\n\n \u2018It is too long for Greenleaf,\n Fasting so long to be;\n Therefore I pray thee, steward,\n My dinner give thou me.\u2019\n\n CLVIII\n\n \u2018Shall thou never eat nor drink,\u2019 said the steward,\n \u2018Till my lord be come to town.\u2019\n \u2018I make mine avow to God,\u2019 said Little John,\n \u2018I had liefer to crack thy crown.\u2019\n\n CLIX\n\n The butler was full uncourteous,\n There he stood on floor,\n He started to the buttery,\n And shut fast the door.\n\n CLX\n\n Little John gave the butler such a rap,\n His back yede[803] nigh in two:\n Tho\u2019 he lived an hundred winter,\n The worse he should go.\n\n CLXI\n\n He spurn\u2019d the door with his foot,\n It went up well and fine,\n And there he made a large livery[804]\n Both of ale and wine.\n\n CLXII\n\n \u2018Sith[805] ye will not dine,\u2019 said Little John,\n \u2018I shall give you to drink,\n And though ye live an hundred winter,\n On Little John ye shall think.\u2019\n\n CLXIII\n\n Little John ate, and Little John drank,\n The while that he wolde.\n The Sheriff had in his kitchen a cook,\n A stout man and a bold.\n\n CLXIV\n\n \u2018I make mine avow to God,\u2019 said the cook,\n \u2018Thou art a shrewd hind[806],\n In an household to dwell,\n For to ask thus to dine.\u2019\n\n CLXV\n\n And there he lent[807] Little John,\n Good strok\u00e8s three.\n \u2018I make mine avow,\u2019 said Little John,\n \u2018These strokes liketh well me.\n\n CLXVI\n\n \u2018Thou art a bold man and an hardy,\n And so thinketh me;\n And or I pass from this place,\n Assay\u2019d better shalt thou be.\u2019\n\n CLXVII\n\n Little John drew a good sword,\n The cook took another in hand;\n They thought nothing for to flee,\n But stiffly for to stand.\n\n CLXVIII\n\n There they fought sore together,\n Two mile way and more,\n Might neither other harm done,\n The mountenance[808] of an hour.\n\n CLXIX\n\n \u2018I make mine avow to God,\u2019 said Little John,\n \u2018And by my true lewt\u00e8,\n Thou art one of the best swordsmen\n That ever yet saw I me.\n\n CLXX\n\n \u2018Couldest thou shoot as well in a bow,\n To green-wood thou shouldest with me,\n And two times in the year thy clothing\n I-chang\u00e8d should be;\n\n CLXXI\n\n \u2018And every year of Robin Hood\n Twenty mark to thy fee.\u2019--\n \u2018Put up thy sword,\u2019 said the cook,\n \u2018And fellows will we be.\u2019\n\n CLXXII\n\n Then he fette[809] to Little John\n The numbles of a doe,\n Good bread and full good wine,\n They ate and drank thereto.\n\n CLXXIII\n\n And when they had drunken well,\n Their troths together they plight,\n That they would be with Robin\n That ilk same day at night.\n\n CLXXIV\n\n They did them to the treasure-house,\n As fast as they might gone,\n The locks that were of good steel\n They broke them every one;\n\n CLXXV\n\n They took away the silver vessel,\n And all that they might get,\n Pieces, masars[810], and spoons,\n Would they none forget;\n\n CLXXVI\n\n Also they took the good pence,\n Three hundred pound and three;\n And did them straight to Robin Hood,\n Under the green-wood tree.\n\n CLXXVII\n\n \u2018God thee save, my dear master,\n And Christ thee save and see!\u2019\n And then said Robin to Little John,\n \u2018Welcome might thou be;\n\n CLXXVIII\n\n \u2018And also be that fair yeoman\n Thou bringest there with thee.\n What tidings from Nottingham\n Little John, tell thou me?\u2019--\n\n CLXXIX\n\n \u2018Well thee greeteth the proud Sheriff,\n And send thee here by me\n His cook and his silver vessel,\n And three hundred pound and three.\u2019--\n\n CLXXX\n\n \u2018I make mine avow to God,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018And to the Trinity,\n It was never by his good will,\n This good is come to me.\u2019\n\n CLXXXI\n\n Little John him there bethought,\n On a shrew\u00e8d wile,\n Five mile in the forest he ran,\n Him happ\u00e8d at his will.\n\n CLXXXII\n\n Then he met the proud Sheriff,\n Hunting with hound and horn,\n Little John cou\u2019d[811] his courtesy,\n And kneel\u00e8d him beforn:\n\n CLXXXIII\n\n \u2018God thee save, my dear master,\n And Christ thee save and see!\u2019--\n \u2018Reynold Greenleaf,\u2019 said the Sheriff,\n \u2018Where hast thou now be?\u2019--\n\n CLXXXIV\n\n \u2018I have been in this forest,\n A fair sight can I see,\n It was one of the fairest sights\n That ever yet saw I me;\n\n CLXXXV\n\n \u2018Yonder I see a right fair hart,\n His colour is of green,\n Seven score of deer upon an herd\n Be with him all bedene[812];\n\n CLXXXVI\n\n \u2018His tynd\u00e8s[813] are so sharp, master,\n Of sixty and well mo,\n That I durst not shoot for dread\n Lest they would me sloo[814].\u2019\n\n CLXXXVII\n\n \u2018I make mine avow to God,\u2019 said the Sheriff,\n \u2018That sight would I fain see.\u2019\n \u2018Busk you thitherward, my dear master,\n Anon, and wend with me.\u2019\n\n CLXXXVIII\n\n The Sheriff rode, and Little John\n Of foot he was full smart,\n And when they came afore Robin:\n \u2018Lo, here is the master hart!\u2019\n\n CLXXXIX\n\n Still stood the proud Sheriff,\n A sorry man was he:\n \u2018Woe worth thee, Reynold Greenleaf!\n Thou hast now betray\u00e8d me.\u2019\n\n CXC\n\n \u2018I make mine avow to God,\u2019 said Little John,\n \u2018Master, ye be to blame,\n I was mis-served of my dinner,\n When I was with you at hame.\u2019\n\n CXCI\n\n Soon he was to supper set,\n And serv\u00e8d with silver white;\n And when the Sheriff saw his vessel,\n For sorrow he might not eat.\n\n CXCII\n\n \u2018Make good cheer,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018Sheriff, for charity!\n And for the love of Little John,\n Thy life is granted to thee.\u2019\n\n CXCIII\n\n When they had supp\u00e8d well,\n The day was all agone,\n Robin commanded Little John\n To draw off his hosen and shoon,\n\n CXCIV\n\n His kirtle and his courtepy[815],\n That was furr\u00e8d well fine,\n And take him a green mant\u00e8l,\n To lap[816] his body therein.\n\n CXCV\n\n Robin commanded his wight young men,\n Under the green-wood tree,\n They shall lie in that same sort;\n That the Sheriff might them see.\n\n CXCVI\n\n All night lay that proud Sheriff,\n In his breech and in his shirt,\n No wonder it was in green-wood,\n Tho\u2019 his sides do smerte[817].\n\n CXCVII\n\n \u2018Make glad cheer,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018Sheriff, for charity!\n For this is our ord\u00e8r, i-wis,\n Under the green-wood tree.\u2019\n\n CXCVIII\n\n \u2018This is harder order,\u2019 said the Sheriff,\n \u2018Than any anchor[818] or frere[819];\n For all the gold in merry England\n I would not long dwell here.\u2019\n\n CXCIX\n\n \u2018All these twelve months,\u2019 said Robin\n \u2018Thou shalt dwell with me;\n I shall thee teach, proud Sheriff,\n An outlaw for to be.\u2019\n\n CC\n\n \u2018Or I here another night lie,\u2019 said the Sheriff,\n \u2018Robin, now I pray thee,\n Smite off my head rather to-morne[820],\n And I forgive it thee.\n\n CCI\n\n \u2018Let me go,\u2019 then said the Sheriff,\n \u2018For saint Charity!\n And I will be thy best friend\n That ever yet had thee.\u2019\n\n CCII\n\n \u2018Thou shalt swear me an oath,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018On my bright brand[821],\n Thou shalt never await[822] me scathe[823],\n By water nor by land.\n\n CCIII\n\n \u2018And if thou find any of my men,\n By night or by day,\n Upon thine oath thou shalt swear,\n To help them that thou may.\u2019\n\n CCIV\n\n Now has the Sheriff i-sworn his oath,\n And home he began to gone,\n He was as full of green-wood\n As ever was hip[824] of stone.\n\n\n_The Fourth Fytte_\n\nHow Robin Hood was repaid his Loan\n\n CCV\n\n The Sheriff dwelled in Nottingham,\n He was fain that he was gone;\n And Robin and his merry men\n Went to wood anon.\n\n CCVI\n\n \u2018Go we to dinner,\u2019 said Little John:\n Robin Hood said \u2018Nay;\n For I fear Our Lady be wroth with me,\n For she sent me not my pay.\u2019\n\n CCVII\n\n \u2018Have no doubt, master,\u2019 said Little John;\n \u2018Yet is not the sun at rest;\n For I dare say and safely swear,\n The Knight is true and trest[825].\u2019\n\n CCVIII\n\n \u2018Take thy bow in hande,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018Let Much wend with thee,\n And so shall William Scath\u00e8lock,\n And no man abide with me.\n\n CCIX\n\n \u2018And walk ye up unto the Sayles,\n And so to Watling Street,\n And wait after some uncouth guest,\n Upchance ye may them meet.\n\n CCX\n\n \u2018Whether he be a messenger,\n Or a man that mirth\u00e8s can[826],\n Of my good he shall have some,\n If he be a poor\u00e8 man.\u2019\n\n CCXI\n\n Forth then started Little John,\n Half in tray and teen[827],\n And girt him with a full good sword,\n Under a mantle of green.\n\n CCXII\n\n They wenten up unto the Sayles,\n Those yeomen all\u00e8 three;\n They look\u00e8d east, they look\u00e8d west,\n They might\u00e8 no man see.\n\n CCXIII\n\n But as they looked in Barn\u00e8sdale,\n By the high\u00e8-way,\n Then were they ware of a Black Monk[828],\n Upon a good palfr\u00e8y.\n\n CCXIV\n\n Then bespake him Little John,\n To Much\u00e8 gan he say:\n \u2018I dare well lay my life to wed[829],\n That Monk hath brought our pay.\n\n CCXV\n\n \u2018Make glad cheer,\u2019 said Little John,\n \u2018And dress your bows of yew,\n And look your hearts be seker and sad[830],\n Your strings trusty and true.\n\n CCXVI\n\n \u2018The Monk hath two and fifty men,\n And seven somers[831] strong;\n There rideth no bishop in this land\n So royally along.\n\n CCXVII\n\n \u2018Bretheren,\u2019 said Little John,\n \u2018Here are no more but three;\n But[832] we bring them to dinn\u00e8r,\n Our master we dare not see.\n\n CCXVIII\n\n \u2018Bend your bows,\u2019 said Little John,\n \u2018Make all yon press[833] to stand;\n The foremost Monk, his life and death\n Is clos\u00e8d in my hand.\n\n CCXIX\n\n \u2018Abide, churl Monk!\u2019 said Little John,\n \u2018No further that thou wend;\n If thou dost, by dear-worth God,\n Thy death is in my hend[834].\n\n CCXX\n\n \u2018And evil thrift[835] upon thy head,\n Right under thy hat\u2019s band!\n For thou hast made our master wroth,\n He is so lang fastand.\u2019\n\n CCXXI\n\n \u2018Who is your master?\u2019 said the Monk.--\n Little John said, \u2018Robin Hood.\u2019--\n \u2018He is a strong thief,\u2019 said the Monk,\n \u2018Of him I never heard good.\u2019\n\n CCXXII\n\n \u2018Thou l\u00ecest,\u2019 then said Little John,\n \u2018And that shall ru\u00e8 thee;\n He is a yeoman of the forest,\n To dine he hath bidden thee.\u2019\n\n CCXXIII\n\n Much was ready with a bolt[836],\n Rathely[837] and anon,\n He set the Monk to-fore[838] the breast\n To the ground that he gan gon[839].\n\n CCXXIV\n\n Of two and fifty wight yeomen\n There abode not one,\n Save a little page and a groom\n To lead the somers on.\n\n CCXXV\n\n They brought the Monk to the lodg\u00e8 door,\n Whether he were loath or lief[840],\n For to speak with Robin Hood,\n Maugre in his teeth[841].\n\n CCXXVI\n\n Robin did a-down his hood,\n The Monk when that he see;\n The Monk was not so courteous,\n His hood he lett\u00e8 be.\n\n CCXXVII\n\n \u2018He is a churl, by dear-worth God,\u2019\n Then said Little John.\n \u2018Thereof no force[842],\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018For courtesy can be none.\u2019\n\n CCXXVIII\n\n \u2018How many men,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018Hadd\u00e8 this Monk, Johan?\u2019--\n \u2018Fifty and two when that we met,\n But many of them be gane.\u2019\n\n CCXXIX\n\n \u2018Let blow a horn,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018That fellowship may us know.\u2019--\n Seven score of wight yeomen\n Came pricking on a row.\n\n CCXXX\n\n Each of them had a good mant\u00e8l\n Of scarlet and of ray[843];\n All they came to good Robin,\n To wit what he would say.\n\n CCXXXI\n\n They made the Monk to wash and wipe,\n And sit at his dinnere,\n Robin Hood and Little John\n They served him both in fere.\n\n CCXXXII\n\n \u2018Do gladly, Monk,\u2019 said Robin Hood;\n \u2018Gramerci, sir,\u2019 said he.\n \u2018Where is your Abbey, when you are at home,\n And who is your avow\u00e8[844]?\u2019\n\n CCXXXIII\n\n \u2018Saint Mary\u2019s Abbey,\u2019 said the Monk,\n \u2018Though I be simple here.\u2019--\n \u2018In what office?\u2019 said Robin;\n \u2018Sir, the High Celler\u00e8r.\u2019\n\n CCXXXIV\n\n \u2018Ye be the more welcome,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018So ever mote I the[845]:\n Fill of the best wine,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018This Monk shall drink to me.\n\n CCXXXV\n\n \u2018But I have great marvel,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018Of all this long\u00e8 day;\n I dread Our Lady be wroth with me,\n She sent me not my pay.\u2019\n\n CCXXXVI\n\n \u2018Have no doubt, master,\u2019 said Little John,\n \u2018Ye have no need, I say,\n This Monk hath brought it, I dare well swear,\n For he is of her Abb\u00e8y.\u2019\n\n CCXXXVII\n\n \u2018And she was a borrow,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018Between a Knight and me,\n Of a little money that I him lent,\n Under the green-wood tree.\n\n CCXXXVIII\n\n \u2018And if thou hast that silver brought,\n I pray thee let me see;\n And I shall help\u00e8 thee eftsoons[846],\n If thou have need to me.\u2019\n\n CCXXXIX\n\n The Monk swore a full great oath,\n With a sorry cheer,\n \u2018Of the borrowhood[847] thou speak\u2019st to me\n Heard I never ere.\u2019--\n\n CCXL\n\n \u2018I mak\u00e8 mine avow to God,\n Monk, thou art to blame;\n For God is held a righteous Man,\n And so is eke his Dame[848].\n\n CCXLI\n\n \u2018Thou toldest with thine own\u00e8 tongue,\n Thou mayst not say\u00e8 naye,\n How thou art her servant,\n And servest her every day.\n\n CCXLII\n\n \u2018And thou art made her messenger,\n My money for to pay;\n Therefore I can thee mor\u00e8 thank\n Thou art come at thy day.\n\n CCXLIII\n\n \u2018What is in your coffers?\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018Truth\u00e8 tell thou me.\u2019--\n \u2018Sir,\u2019 he said\u00e8, \u2018twenty mark[849],\n All so mote I the.\u2019\n\n CCXLIV\n\n \u2018If there be no more,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018I will not one penn\u1ef3;\n If thou hast myster[850] of any more,\n More I shall lend to thee.\n\n CCXLV\n\n \u2018And if I find more,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018I-wis thou shall it forgone;\n For of thy spending-silver, Monk,\n Thereof will I right none.\n\n CCXLVI\n\n \u2018Go now forth, Little John,\n The truth\u00e8 tell thou me;\n If there be no more but twenty mark,\n No penny that I see.\u2019\n\n CCXLVII\n\n Little John spread his mantle down,\n As he had done before,\n And he told out of the Monk\u00e8s mail\n Eight hundred pound and more.\n\n CCXLVIII\n\n Little John let it lie full still,\n And went to his master in haste;\n \u2018Sir,\u2019 he said, \u2018the Monk is true enough,\n Our Lady hath doubled your cast[851]!\u2019--\n\n CCXLIX\n\n \u2018I mak\u00e8 mine avow to God,\n Monk, what told I thee?\n Our Lady is the truest woman\n That ever found I me.\n\n CCL\n\n \u2018By dear-worth God,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018To seek all England thorough,\n Yet found I never to my pay\n A much\u00e8 better borrow.\n\n CCLI\n\n \u2018Fill of the best wine,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018And greet thy Lady hend[852],\n And if she have need to Robin Hood\n She shall him find a friend.\n\n CCLII\n\n \u2018And if she need any more silv\u00e8r,\n Come thou again to me,\n And, by this token she hath me sent,\n She shall have such\u00e8 three.\u2019\n\n CCLIII\n\n The Monk was going to Londonward,\n There to hold great moot[853],\n The Knight that rode so high on horse,\n To bring him under foot.\n\n CCLIV\n\n \u2018Whither be ye away?\u2019 said Robin.--\n \u2018Sir, to manors in this londe,\n To reckon with our rev\u00e8s,\n That have done much wrong.\u2019--\n\n CCLV\n\n \u2018Come now forth, Little John,\n And hearken to my tale,\n A better yeoman I know none,\n To seek[854] a Monk\u00e8s mail[855].\u2019\n\n CCLVI\n\n \u2018How much is in yon other forc\u00e8r[856]?\n The sooth\u00e8 must we see:\u2019\n \u2018By our Lady,\u2019 then said the Monk,\n \u2018That were no courtesy,\n\n CCLVII\n\n \u2018A man to bidd\u00e8 to dinn\u00e8r,\n And sith[857] him beat and bind.\u2019--\n \u2018It is our old manner,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018To leave but little behind.\u2019\n\n CCLVIII\n\n The Monk took the horse with spur,\n No longer would he abide;\n \u2018Ask to drink,\u2019 then said Robin,\n \u2018Ere that ye further ride.\u2019\n\n CCLIX\n\n \u2018Nay, \u2019fore God,\u2019 then said the Monk,\n \u2018Me rueth I came so near;\n For better cheap[858] I might have dined\n In Blyth or Doncastere.\u2019\n\n CCLX\n\n \u2018Greet well your Abbot,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018And your prior, I you pray,\n And bid him send me such a Monk\n To dinner every day!\u2019\n\n CCLXI\n\n Now lett\u00e8 we that Monk be still,\n And speak we of that Knight:\n Yet he came to hold his day,\n The while that it was light.\n\n CCLXII\n\n He did him straight to Barn\u00e8sdale,\n Under the green-wood tree,\n And he found there Robin Hood,\n And all his merry mein\u00e8e.\n\n CCLXIII\n\n The Knight lit down off his good palfr\u00e8y,\n Robin when he gan see;\n Courteously he did a-down his hood,\n And set him on his knee.\n\n CCLXIV\n\n \u2018God thee sav\u00e8, Robin Hood,\n And all this company!\u2019--\n \u2018Welcome be thou, gentle Knight,\n Right welcome unto me.\u2019\n\n CCLXV\n\n Then bespake him Robin Hood\n To that Knight so free:\n \u2018What need driveth thee to green\u00e8-wood?\n I pray, sir Knight, tell me.\n\n CCLXVI\n\n \u2018And welcome be thou, gentle Knight,\n Why hast thou been so long?\u2019--\n \u2018For the Abbot and the High Justice\n Would have had my land with wrong.\u2019\n\n CCLXVII\n\n \u2018Hast thou thy land again?\u2019 said Robin;\n \u2018Truth\u00e8 tell thou me.\u2019--\n \u2018Yea, \u2019fore God,\u2019 said the Knight,\n \u2018That thank I God and thee.\n\n CCLXVIII\n\n \u2018But take no grief I have been so long;\n I came by a wrest\u00e8ling,\n And there I holp a poor yeoman,\n With wrong was put behind.\u2019\n\n CCLXIX\n\n \u2018Nay, \u2019fore God,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018Sir Knight, that thank I thee;\n What man that helpeth a good yeoman,\n His friend I will\u00e8 be.\u2019\n\n CCLXX\n\n \u2018Have here four hundred pound,\u2019 said the Knight,\n \u2018The which ye lent to me;\n And here is also twenty mark\n For your courtesy.\u2019\n\n CCLXXI\n\n \u2018Nay, \u2019fore God,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018Thou brook[859] it well for aye;\n For Our Lady, by her Cellar\u00e8r,\n Hath sent to me my pay.\n\n CCLXXII\n\n \u2018And if I would it twic\u00e8 take\n A shame it were to me;\n But truly now, thou gentle Knight,\n Welcome art thou to me.\u2019\n\n CCLXXIII\n\n When Robin Hood had told his tale,\n He laugh\u2019d and made good cheer.\n \u2018By my truth\u00e8,\u2019 said the Knight,\n \u2018Your money is ready here.\u2019\n\n CCLXXIV\n\n \u2018Brook it well,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018Thou gentle Knight so free;\n And welcome be thou, gentle Knight,\n Under my trystell-tree!\n\n CCLXXV\n\n \u2018But what shall these bows do,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018And these arrows feather\u2019d free?\u2019--\n \u2018With your will,\u2019 then said the Knight,\n \u2018A poor present to thee.\u2019--\n\n CCLXXVI\n\n \u2018Come now forth, Little John,\n And go to my treasur\u1ef3,\n And bring me thence four hundred pound;\n The Monk overtold[860] it me.\n\n CCLXXVII\n\n \u2018Have here four hundred pound,\n Thou gentle Knight and true,\n And buy thee horse and harness good,\n And gilt\u00e8 spurs all new.\n\n CCLXXVIII\n\n \u2018And if thou fail any spending,\n Come to Robin Hood,\n And by my troth thou shalt none fail,\n While I have any good.\n\n CCLXXIX\n\n \u2018And brook well thy four hundred pound,\n Which I lent to thee,\n And make thyself no more so bare,\n By the counsel of me.\u2019\n\n CCLXXX\n\n Thus then holp him good Robin,\n The Knight all of his care:\n God, that sitt\u2019st in heaven high,\n Grant us well to fare!\n\n\n_The Fifth Fytte_\n\nHow at Archery in Nottingham Robin Hood was treacherously attacked, but\nescaped into Sir Richard\u2019s Castle\n\n CCLXXXI\n\n Now hath the Knight his leave i-take,\n And went him on his way;\n Robin Hood and his merry men\n Dwelt still full many a day.\n\n CCLXXXII\n\n Lithe and listen, Gentlemen,\n And hearken what I shall say,\n How the proud Sheriff of Nottingham,\n Did cry a full fair play;\n\n CCLXXXIII\n\n That all the best archers of the North\n Should come upon a day,\n \u2018And he that shooteth alder-best[861]\n The game shall bear away.\n\n CCLXXXIV\n\n \u2018He that shooteth alder-best,\n Furthest, fair, and law[862],\n At a pair of fynly[863] butts,\n Under the green-wood shaw,\n\n CCLXXXV\n\n \u2018A right good arrow he shall have,\n The shaft of silver white,\n The head and feathers of rich red gold,\n In England is none like.\u2019\n\n CCLXXXVI\n\n This then heard\u00e8 good Robin,\n Under his trystell-tree:\n \u2018Make you ready, ye wight young men;\n That shooting will I see.\n\n CCLXXXVII\n\n \u2018Busk you, my merry young men,\n Ye shall go with me;\n And I will wete[864] the Sheriff\u2019s faith,\n True an if he be.\n\n CCLXXXVIII\n\n When they had their bows i-bent,\n Their tackles[865] feather\u2019d free,\n Seven score of wight young men\n Stood by Robin\u2019s knee.\n\n CCLXXXIX\n\n When they came to Nottingham,\n The butts were fair and long;\n Many was the bold arch\u00e8r\n That shot with bow\u00e8 strong.\n\n CCXC\n\n \u2018There shall but six shoot with me,\n The other shall keep my heed,\n And stand with good bow\u00e8s bent\n That I be not deceived.\u2019\n\n CCXCI\n\n The fourth outlaw his bow gan bend,\n And that was Robin Hood,\n And that beheld the proud Sheriff,\n All by the butt he stood.\n\n CCXCII\n\n Thrice Robin shot about,\n And alway he sliced the wand,\n And so did good Gilbert,\n With the white hand.\n\n CCXCIII\n\n Little John and good Scathelock\n Were archers good and free;\n Little Much and good Reynold,\n The worst would they not be.\n\n CCXCIV\n\n When they hadd\u00e8 shot about,\n These archers fair and good,\n Evermore was the best,\n For sooth\u00e8, Robin Hood.\n\n CCXCV\n\n Him was deliver\u2019d the good arr\u00f2w,\n For best worthy was he;\n He took the gift so courteously,\n To green\u00e8-wood would he.\n\n CCXCVI\n\n They cri\u00e8d out on Robin Hood\n And great horns gan they blow:\n \u2018Woe worth thee[866], treason!\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018Full evil thou art to know.\n\n CCXCVII\n\n \u2018And woe be thee, thou proud Sheriff,\n Thus gladding thy guest;\n Otherwise, thou behot\u00e8[867] me\n In yonder wild for\u00e8st.\n\n CCXCVIII\n\n \u2018But had I thee in green\u00e8-wood,\n Under my trystell-tree,\n Thou shouldest leave me a better wed[868]\n Than thy true lewt\u00e8.\u2019\n\n CCXCIX\n\n Full many a bow\u00e8 there was bent,\n And arrows let they glide;\n Many a kirtle there was rent,\n And hurt full many a side.\n\n CCC\n\n The outlaws\u2019 shott\u00e8 was so strong\n That no man might them drive.\n And the proud\u00e8 Sheriff\u2019s men\n They fled away full blive[869].\n\n CCCI\n\n Robin saw the bushment[870] broke,\n In green-wood he would be;\n Many an arrow there was shot\n Among that company.\n\n CCCII\n\n Little John was hurt full sore,\n With an arrow in his knee,\n That he might neither go nor ride;\n It was full great pity.\n\n CCCIII\n\n \u2018Master,\u2019 then said Little John,\n \u2018If ever thou lovest me,\n And for that ilk Lord\u00e8s love,\n That died upon a tree,\n\n CCCIV\n\n \u2018And for the meeds[871] of my service,\n That I have serv\u00e8d thee,\n Let never the proud Sheriff\n Alive now find\u00e8 me;\n\n CCCV\n\n \u2018But take out thy brown sword,\n And smite all off my head\n And give me wounds dead[872] and wide,\n No life on me be left.\u2019\n\n CCCVI\n\n \u2018I would not that,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018John, that thou were slawe,\n For all the gold in merry England,\n Though it lay now on a rawe[873].\u2019\n\n CCCVII\n\n \u2018God forbid,\u2019 said little Much,\n \u2018That died on a tree,\n That thou shouldest, Little John,\n Part our company.\u2019\n\n CCCVIII\n\n Up Robin took him on his back,\n And bare him well a mile;\n Many a time he laid him down,\n And shot another while.\n\n CCCIX\n\n Then was there a fair cast\u00e8ll,\n A little within the wood;\n Double-ditch\u2019d it was about,\n And wall\u00e8d, by the rood.\n\n CCCX\n\n And there dwelt that gentle Knight,\n Sir Richard at the Lee,\n That Robin hadd\u00e8 lent his good,\n Under the green-wood tree.\n\n CCCXI\n\n In he took good Robin,\n And all his company:\n \u2018Welcome be thou, Robin Hood,\n Welcome art thou to me;\n\n CCCXII\n\n \u2018And much I thank thee of thy comfort,\n And of thy courtesy,\n And of thy great kindness,\n Under the green-wood tree;\n\n CCCXIII\n\n \u2018I love no man in all this world\n So much as I do thee;\n For all the proud Sheriff of Nottingham,\n Right here shalt thou be.\n\n CCCXIV\n\n \u2018Shut the gates and draw the bridge,\n And let no man come in,\n And arm you well, and make you ready,\n And to the walls ye win[874].\n\n CCCXV\n\n \u2018For one thing, Robin, I thee behote[875],\n I swear by Saint Quint\u00ecn,\n These twelve days thou wonest[876] with me,\n To sup, eat, and dine.\u2019\n\n CCCXVI\n\n Boards were laid, and cloths spread,\n Readily and anon;\n Robin Hood and his merry men\n To meat gan they gone.\n\n\n_The Sixth Fytte_\n\nHow Sir Richard was cast by the Sheriff into Prison, and rescued by\nRobin Hood\n\n CCCXVII\n\n Lithe and listen, Gentlemen,\n And hearken to my song;\n How the proud Sheriff of Nottingham\n And men of arm\u00e8s strong\n\n CCCXVIII\n\n Full fast came to the High Sheriff,\n The country up to rout[877],\n And they beset the Knight\u2019s castell,\n The wall\u00e8s all about.\n\n CCCXIX\n\n The proud\u00e8 Sheriff loud gan cry,\n And said, \u2018Thou traitor Knight,\n Thou keep\u2019st here the King\u2019s enemies,\n Against the law and right.\u2019--\n\n CCCXX\n\n \u2018Sir, I will avow that I have done,\n The deeds that here be dight[878],\n Upon all the lands that I have,\n As I am a true knight.\n\n CCCXXI\n\n \u2018Wend forth, sirs, on your way,\n And doth no more to me,\n Till ye wit our King his will\n What he will say to thee.\u2019\n\n CCCXXII\n\n The Sheriff thus had his answ\u00e8re,\n Without any leasing[879];\n Forth he yede[880] to London town,\n All for to tell our King.\n\n CCCXXIII\n\n There he told him of that Knight,\n And eke of Robin Hood,\n And also of the bold archers\n That were so noble and good.\n\n CCCXXIV\n\n \u2018He would avow that he had done,\n To maintain the outlaws strong,\n He would be lord, and set you at nought,\n In all the north londe.\u2019\n\n CCCXXV\n\n \u2018I will be at Nottingham,\u2019 said our King,\n \u2018Within this fort\u00e8night,\n And take I will\u00e8 Robin Hood,\n And so I will that Knight.\n\n CCCXXVI\n\n \u2018Go home, thou proud Sheriff,\n And do as I bid thee,\n And ordain good archers enough,\n Of all the wide countrey.\u2019\n\n CCCXXVII\n\n The Sheriff had his leave i-take,\n And went him on his way;\n And Robin Hood to green-wood went\n Upon a certain day;\n\n CCCXXVIII\n\n And Little John was whole[881] of the arrow,\n That shot was in his knee,\n And did him straight to Robin Hood,\n Under the green-wood tree.\n\n CCCXXIX\n\n Robin Hood walked in the forest\n Under the leav\u00e8s green;\n The proud Sheriff of Nottingham\n Thereof he had great teen.\n\n CCCXXX\n\n The Sheriff there fail\u2019d of Robin Hood,\n He might not have his prey;\n Then he awaited this gentle Knight,\n Both by night and day.\n\n CCCXXXI\n\n Ever he waited that gentle Knight,\n Sir Richard at the Lee,\n As he went hawking by the river side,\n And let his hawk\u00e8s flee.\n\n CCCXXXII\n\n Took he there this gentle Knight,\n With men of arm\u00e8s strong,\n And led him to Nottingham-ward,\n Bound both foot and hond.\n\n CCCXXXIII\n\n The Sheriff swore a full great oath,\n By Him that died on a tree,\n He had liefer than an hundred pound,\n That Robin Hood had he.\n\n CCCXXXIV\n\n This heard the Knight\u00e8s wife,\n A fair lady and a free;\n She set her on a good palfrey,\n To green-wood anon rode she.\n\n CCCXXXV\n\n When she came in the for\u00e8st,\n Under the green-wood tree,\n Found she there Robin Hood\n And all his fair mein\u00e8e.\n\n CCCXXXVI\n\n \u2018God thee save, thou good Robin,\n And all thy company;\n For Our\u00e8 dear\u00e8 Lady\u2019s sake,\n A boon grant thou me!\n\n CCCXXXVII\n\n \u2018Let thou never my wedded Lord\n Shamefully slayen be;\n He is fast bound at Nottingham,\n For the love of thee.\u2019\n\n CCCXXXVIII\n\n Anon then said good Robin,\n To that lady free,\n \u2018What man hath your lord i-take?\u2019--\n \u2018The proud Sheriff,\u2019 then said she.\n\n CCCXXXIX\n\n \u2018The proud Sheriff hath him i-take\n Forsooth as I thee say;\n He is not yet three miles,\n Pass\u00e8d on his way.\u2019\n\n CCCXL\n\n Up then started good Robin\n As a man that had been wood[882];\n \u2018Busk\u00e8 you, my merry men,\n For Him that died on rood!\n\n CCCXLI\n\n \u2018And he that this sorr\u00f2w forsaketh,\n By Him that died on a tree,\n And by Him that all things maketh,\n No longer shall dwell with me.\u2019\n\n CCCXLII\n\n Soon there were good bows y-bent,\n More than seven score;\n Hedge nor ditch they spar\u00e8d none\n That was them before.\n\n CCCXLIII\n\n \u2018I make mine avow to God,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018The Knight would I fain see,\n And if I may him tak\u00e8,\n I-quit then shall he be.\u2019\n\n CCCXLIV\n\n And when they came to Nottingham,\n They walk\u00e8d in the street;\n And with the proud Sheriff i-wis\n Soon\u00e8 gan they meet.\n\n CCCXLV\n\n \u2018Abide, thou proud Sheriff,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018Abide, and speak with me;\n Of some tidings of our King\n I would fain hear of thee.\n\n CCCXLVI\n\n \u2018This seven year, by dear-worthy God,\n Ne yede I so fast on foot,\n I make mine avow to God, thou proud Sheriff,\n It is not for thy good.\u2019\n\n CCCXLVII\n\n Robin bent a full good bow,\n An arrow he drew at will;\n He hit so the proud Sheriff,\n On the ground he lay full still.\n\n CCCXLVIII\n\n And or he might up arise,\n On his feet to stand,\n He smote off the Sheriff\u2019s head,\n With his bright brand.\n\n CCCXLIX\n\n \u2018Lie thou there, thou proud Sheriff;\n Evil mote thou thrive:\n There might no man to thee trust\n The while thou wert alive.\u2019\n\n CCCL\n\n His men drew out their bright\u00e8 swords\n That were so sharp and keen,\n And laiden on the Sheriff\u2019s men,\n And drave them down bidene[883].\n\n CCCLI\n\n Robin started to the Knight,\n And cut in two his band,\n And took[884] him in his hand a bow,\n And bade him by him stand.\n\n CCCLII\n\n \u2018Leave thy hors\u00e8 thee behind,\n And learn\u00e8 for to ren[885];\n Thou shalt with me to green\u00e8-wood,\n Through mire, moss, and fen.\n\n CCCLIII\n\n \u2018Thou shalt with me to green\u00e8-wood,\n Without any leasing,\n Till that I have got us grace\n Of Edward, our comely King.\u2019\n\n\n_The Seventh Fytte_\n\nHow the King rode out to punish Robin Hood, and how he was entertained\n\n CCCLIV\n\n The King came to Nottingham,\n With knights in great array,\n For to take that gentle Knight\n And Robin, if he may.\n\n CCCLV\n\n He ask\u00e8d men of that country\n After Robin Hood,\n And eke after that gentle Knight\n That was so bold and good.\n\n CCCLVI\n\n When they had him told the case\n Our King understood their tale,\n And he seiz\u00e8d in his hand\n The Knight\u00e8s land\u00e8s all.\n\n CCCLVII\n\n All the pass[886] of Lancashire\n He went both far and near,\n Till he came to Plompton Park,\n He fail\u2019d many of his deer.\n\n CCCLVIII\n\n There[887] our King was wont to see\n Herd\u00e8s many one,\n He could unneth[888] find one deer\n That bare any good horn.\n\n CCCLIX\n\n The King was wonder wroth withall,\n And swore by the Trinity,\n \u2018I would I hadd\u00e8 Robin Hood,\n With eyes I might him see.\n\n CCCLX\n\n \u2018And he that would smite off the Knight\u00e8s head,\n And bring it unto me\n He shall have the Knight\u00e8s lands,\n Sir Richard at the Lee.\n\n CCCLXI\n\n \u2018I give it him with my chart\u00e8r,\n And seal it with my hand,\n To have and hold for evermore\n In all merry England.\u2019\n\n CCCLXII\n\n Then bespake a fair old Knight\n That was true in his fay[889]:\n \u2018Ah! my lieg\u00e8 lord the King,\n One word I shall you say.\n\n CCCLXIII\n\n \u2018There is no man in this country\n May have the Knight\u00e8s lands,\n While Robin Hood may ride or go,\n And bear a bow in his hands.\n\n CCCLXIV\n\n \u2018That he ne shall not lose his head,\n The best ball in his hood;\n Give it no man, my lord the King,\n That ye will[890] any good.\u2019\n\n CCCLXV\n\n Half a year dwelt our comely King\n In Nottingham, and more;\n Could he not hear of Robin Hood,\n In what country he wore.\n\n CCCLXVI\n\n But alway went\u00e8 good Robin\n By halk[891] and eke by hill,\n And alway slew the King\u00e8s deer,\n And wielded them at will.\n\n CCCLXVII\n\n Then bespake a proud forst\u00e8r[892],\n That stood by our King\u00e8s knee:\n \u2018If ye will see good Robin Hood,\n Ye must do after me.\n\n CCCLXVIII\n\n \u2018Take five of the best\u00e8 knights\n That be in your\u00e8 lede[893],\n And walk\u00e8 down by yon Abb\u00e8y,\n And get you monk\u00e8s weed.\n\n CCCLXIX\n\n \u2018And I will be your lead\u00e8s-man[894],\n And lead\u00e8 you the way,\n And ere ye come to Nottingham\n Mine head then dare I lay\n\n CCCLXX\n\n \u2018That ye shall meet with good Robin,\n Alive if that he be;\n Ere ye come to Nottingham\n With eyes ye shall him see.\u2019\n\n CCCLXXI\n\n Full hastily our King was dight,\n So were his knight\u00e8s five.\n Each of them in monk\u00e8s weed,\n And hasted thither blive.\n\n CCCLXXII\n\n Our King was great above his cowl,\n A broad hat on his crown,\n Right as he were abbot-like,\n They rode into the town.\n\n CCCLXXIII\n\n Stiff boots our King had on,\n Forsooth as I you say;\n Singing he rode to the green\u00e8-wood,\n The convent[895] was clothed in gray.\n\n CCCLXXIV\n\n His mail-horse[896] and his great som\u00e8rs\n Followed our King behind,\n Till they came to green\u00e8-wood\n A mile under the lind[897].\n\n CCCLXXV\n\n There they met with good Robin,\n Standing on the way,\n And so did many a bold arch\u00e8r,\n For sooth as I you say.\n\n CCCLXXVI\n\n Robin took the King\u00e8\u2019s horse\n Hastily in that stide[898],\n And said, \u2018Sir Abbot, by your leave,\n A while ye must abide.\n\n CCCLXXVII\n\n \u2018We be yeomen of this for\u00e8st\n Under the green-wood tree;\n We liv\u00e8 by our King\u00e8s deer,\n None other shift have we.\n\n CCCLXXVIII\n\n \u2018And ye have churches and rent\u00e8s both\n And gold full great plent\u1ef3,\n Give us some of your spending\n For saint\u00e8 charity.\u2019\n\n CCCLXXIX\n\n Then bespake our comely King,\n Anon then said\u00e8 he,\n \u2018I have brought no more to green\u00e8-wood\n But forty pound with me.\n\n CCCLXXX\n\n \u2018I have lain at Nottingham\n This fortnight with our King,\n And spent I have full much\u00e8 good\n On many a great lording[899].\n\n CCCLXXXI\n\n \u2018And I have but forty pound,\n No more I have with me:\n But if I had an hundred pound,\n I vouch it half on thee.\u2019\n\n CCCLXXXII\n\n Robin took the forty pound,\n And departed it in twain;\n Halfen-deal[900] he gave his men,\n And bade them be full fain.\n\n CCCLXXXIII\n\n Full courteously Robin gan say,\n \u2018Sir, this for your spending!\n We shall meet another day.\u2019--\n \u2018Gramerci!\u2019 said our King.\n\n CCCLXXXIV\n\n \u2018But well thee greeteth Edward our King,\n And sent to thee his seal,\n And biddeth thee come to Nottingham,\n Both to meat and meal.\u2019\n\n CCCLXXXV\n\n He took out the broad\u00e8 targe[901],\n And soon he let him see;\n Robin could his courtesy,\n And set him on his knee.\n\n CCCLXXXVI\n\n \u2018I love no man in all the world\n So well as I do my King;\n Welcome is my lord\u00e8s seal;\n And, Monk, for thy tiding.\n\n CCCLXXXVII\n\n \u2018Sir Abbot, for thy tidings,\n To-day thou shalt dine with me,\n For the lov\u00e8 of my King,\n Under my trystell-tree.\u2019\n\n CCCLXXXVIII\n\n Forth he led our comely King\n Full fair\u00e8 by the hand;\n Many a deer there was slain,\n They were full fast dight\u00e0nd[902].\n\n CCCLXXXIX\n\n Robin took a full great horn,\n And loud\u00e8 he gan blow;\n Seven score of wight young men\n Came ready on a row.\n\n CCCXC\n\n All they kneel\u00e8d on their knee\n Full fair before Robin;\n The King said himself until,\n And swore by Saint Aust\u00ecn,\n\n CCCXCI\n\n \u2018Here is a wonder seemly sight;\n Me thinketh, by God\u2019s pine[903],\n His men are more at his bidding\n Than my men be at mine.\u2019\n\n CCCXCII\n\n Full hastily was their dinner dight,\n And thereto gan they gon;\n They serv\u00e8d our King with all their might,\n Both Robin and Little John.\n\n CCCXCIII\n\n Anon before our King was set\n The fatt\u00e8 venisoun,\n The good white bread, the good red wine,\n Thereto fine ale and brown.\n\n CCCXCIV\n\n \u2018Make good cheer,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018Abbot, for charity,\n And for this ilk\u00e8 tiding, Sir,\n Blessed mote thou be.\n\n CCCXCV\n\n \u2018Now shalt thou see what life we lead,\n Ere thou henn\u00e8s[904] wend;\n Then thou mayst inform our King,\n When ye together lend[905].\u2019\n\n CCCXCVI\n\n Up they started all in haste,\n Their bows were smartly bent;\n Our King was never so aghast,\n He weened to have been shent[906].\n\n CCCXCVII\n\n Two yards[907] there were up set,\n Thereto gan they gang;\n By fifty paces, our King said,\n The mark\u00e8s were too lang.\n\n CCCXCVIII\n\n On every side a rose garl\u00e0nd,\n They shot under the line:\n \u2018Who fails of the garland,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018His tackle he shall tine[908],\n\n CCCXCIX\n\n \u2018And yield it unto his mast\u00e8r,\n Be it never so fine;\n For no man will I spare,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018So drink I ale or wine;\n\n CCCC\n\n \u2018And bear a buffet on his head\n I-wis aright all bare:\u2019\n And all that fell to Robin\u2019s lot\n He smote them wonder sair.\n\n CCCCI\n\n Twice Robin shot about,\n And ever he cleft the wand,\n And so did eke the good Gilb\u00e8rt\n With the white hand.\n\n CCCCII\n\n Little John and good Scath\u00e8lock,\n For nothing would they spare;\n When they fail\u2019d of the garl\u00e0nd\n Robin smote them sair.\n\n CCCCIII\n\n At the last shot that Robin shot,\n For all his friend\u00e8s fare,\n Yet he fail\u2019d of the garl\u00e0nd\n Three fingers and mair.\n\n CCCCIV\n\n Then bespake him good Gilb\u00e8rt,\n And thus he gan him say:\n \u2018Master,\u2019 he said, \u2018your tackle is lost,\n Stand forth and take your pay.\u2019\n\n CCCCV\n\n \u2018If it be so,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018That may no better be,\n Sir Abbot, I deliver thee mine arrow,\n I pray thee, serve thou me.\u2019\n\n CCCCVI\n\n \u2018It falls[909] not for mine order,\u2019 said our King,\n \u2018Robin, by thy leave,\n For to smite no good yeom\u00e0n,\n For doubt I should him grieve.\u2019\n\n CCCCVII\n\n \u2018Smite on boldly,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018I give thee larg\u00e8 leave.\u2019\n Anon our King with that same word\n He folded up his sleeve,\n\n CCCCVIII\n\n And such a buffet he gave Robin,\n To ground he yede full near:\n \u2018I make mine avow to God,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018Thou art a stalwart frere[910].\n\n CCCCIX\n\n \u2018There is pith in thine arm,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018I trow thou canst well shoot.\u2019\n Thus our King and Robin Hood\n Together then they met.\n\n CCCCX\n\n Robin beheld our comely King\n Wistly in the face,\n So did Sir Richard at the Lee,\n And knelt down in that place.\n\n CCCCXI\n\n And so did all the wild outl\u00e0ws,\n When they saw them kneel:\n \u2018My lord the King of Eng\u00e8land,\n Now I know you weel!\u2019\n\n CCCCXII\n\n \u2018Mercy then, Robin,\u2019 said our King,\n \u2018Under your trystell-tree,\n Of thy goodness and thy grace,\n For my men and me!\u2019\n\n CCCCXIII\n\n \u2018Yes, \u2019fore God,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018And also God me save!\n I ask mercy, my lord the King,\n And for my men I crave.\u2019\n\n CCCCXIV\n\n \u2018Yes, \u2019fore God,\u2019 then said our King,\n \u2018And thereto sent I me,\n With that thou leave the green\u00e8-wood,\n And all thy company;\n\n CCCCXV\n\n \u2018And come home, sir, unto my court,\n And there dwell with me.\u2019--\n \u2018I make mine avow to God,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018And right so shall it be.\n\n CCCCXVI\n\n \u2018I will come unto your court,\n Your service for to see,\n And bring\u00e8 with me of my men\n Seven score and three.\n\n CCCCXVII\n\n \u2018But me like[911] well your service,\n I will come again full soon,\n And shooten at the dunn\u00e8 deer,\n As I am wont to doon.\u2019\n\n\n_The Eighth Fytte_\n\nHow Robin Hood lived a while at the King\u2019s Court, but returned to the\nGreen-wood\n\n CCCCXVIII\n\n \u2018Hast thou any green cloth?\u2019 said our King,\n \u2018That thou wilt sell now to me?\u2019--\n \u2018Yea, \u2019fore God,\u2019 said Robin,\n \u2018Thirty yards and three.\u2019\n\n CCCCXIX\n\n \u2018Robin,\u2019 said our King,\n \u2018Now pray I thee,\n To sell me some of that cloth,\n To me and my mein\u00e8e.\u2019\n\n CCCCXX\n\n \u2018Yes, \u2019fore God,\u2019 then said Robin,\n \u2018Or else I were a fool;\n Another day ye will me clothe,\n I trow, against the Yule.\u2019\n\n CCCCXXI\n\n The King cast off his coat then,\n A green garment he did on,\n And every knight had so, i-wis,\n They cloth\u00e8d them full soon.\n\n CCCCXXII\n\n When they were clothed in Lincoln green,\n They cast away their gray.\n \u2018Now we shall to Nottingham,\u2019\n All thus our King gan say.\n\n CCCCXXIII\n\n Their bows bent and forth they went,\n Shooting all in fere,\n Toward the town of Nottingham,\n Outlaws as they were.\n\n CCCCXXIV\n\n Our King and Robin rode together\n Forsooth as I you say,\n And they shot pluck-buffet[912],\n As they went by the way;\n\n CCCCXXV\n\n And many a buffet our King won,\n Of Robin Hood that day:\n And nothing spared good Robin\n Our King in his pay.\n\n CCCCXXVI\n\n \u2018So God me help,\u2019 said our King,\n \u2018Thy game is nought to lere[913],\n I should not get a shot of thee,\n Though I shot all this year.\u2019\n\n CCCCXXVII\n\n All the people of Nottingham\n They stood and beheld,\n They saw nothing but mantles of green\n That cover\u2019d all the felde;\n\n CCCCXXVIII\n\n Then every man to other gan say,\n \u2018I dread our King be slone;\n Come Robin Hood to the town, i-wis,\n On life he leaveth not one.\u2019\n\n CCCCXXIX\n\n Full hastily they began to flee,\n Both yeoman and knaves,\n The old wives that might evil go,\n They hipp\u00e8d[914] on their staves.\n\n CCCCXXX\n\n The King laughed full fast,\n And commanded them again;\n When they saw our comely King,\n I-wis they were full fain.\n\n CCCCXXXI\n\n They ate and drank, and made them glad,\n And sang with not\u00e8s high.\n Then bespake our comely King\n To Sir Richard at the Lee:\n\n CCCCXXXII\n\n He gave him there his land again,\n A good man he bade him be.\n Robin thanked our comely King,\n And set him on his knee.\n\n CCCCXXXIII\n\n Robin had dwelt in the King\u00e8s court\n But twelv\u00e8 months and three,\n That he had spent an hundred pound,\n And all his menn\u00e8s fee.\n\n CCCCXXXIV\n\n In every place where Robin came,\n Evermore he laid down[915]\n Both for knight\u00e8s and for squires,\n To get him great renown.\n\n CCCCXXXV\n\n By then[916] the year was all agone\n He had no man but twain,\n Little John and good Scath\u00e8lock\n With him all for to gane.\n\n CCCCXXXVI\n\n Robin saw the young men shoot\n Full far upon a day;\n \u2018Alas!\u2019 then said good Robin Hood,\n \u2018My wealth is went away.\n\n CCCCXXXVII\n\n \u2018Sometime I was an archer good,\n A stiff and eke a strong;\n I was counted the best arch\u00e8r\n That was in merry Englond.\n\n CCCCXXXVIII\n\n \u2018Alas!\u2019 then said good Robin Hood,\n \u2018Alas and well-a-way!\n If I dwell longer with the King,\n Sorrow will me slay.\u2019\n\n CCCCXXXIX\n\n Forth then went\u00e8 Robin Hood\n Till he came to our King:\n \u2018My lord the King of Eng\u00e8land,\n Grant me mine asking!\n\n CCCCXL\n\n \u2018I made a chapel in Barn\u00e8sdale\n That seemly is to see,\n It is of Mary Magdalen,\n And thereto would I be.\n\n CCCCXLI\n\n \u2018I might never in this seven night\n No tim\u00e8 sleep nor wink,\n Neither all these seven days\n Neither eat nor drink.\n\n CCCCXLII\n\n \u2018Me longeth sore to Barn\u00e8sdale,\n I may not be therefro[917];\n Barefoot and woolward[918] I have hight[919]\n Thither for to go.\u2019\n\n CCCCXLIII\n\n \u2018If it be so,\u2019 then said our King,\n \u2018It may no better be;\n Seven night I give thee leave,\n No longer, to dwell from me.\u2019\n\n CCCCXLIV\n\n \u2018Gramerci, lord,\u2019 then said Robin,\n And set him on his knee:\n He took his leave full courteously,\n To green-wood then went he.\n\n CCCCXLV\n\n When he came to green\u00e8-wood\n In a merry morn\u00ecng,\n There he heard the not\u00e8s small\n Of birds merry sing\u00ecng.\n\n CCCCXLVI\n\n \u2018It is far gone,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018That I was latest here;\n Me list[920] a little for to shoot\n At the dunn\u00e8 deer.\u2019\n\n CCCCXLVII\n\n Robin slew a full great hart;\n His horn then gan he blow,\n That all the outlaws of that for\u00e8st\n That horn they could\u00e8 know,\n\n CCCCXLVIII\n\n And them together gather\u00e8d\n In a little throw[921];\n Seven score of wight young men\n Came ready on a row,\n\n CCCCXLIX\n\n And fair\u00e8 didden off their hoods,\n And set them on their knee:\n \u2018Welcome,\u2019 they said. \u2018our dear mast\u00e8r,\n Under this green-wood tree!\u2019\n\n CCCCL\n\n Robin dwelt in green\u00e8-wood\n Twenty year and two;\n For all dread of Edward our King,\n Again[922] would he not go.\n\n CCCCLI\n\n Yet he was beguiled, i-wis,\n Through a wicked woman,\n The prioress of Kirksley,\n That nigh was of his kin,\n\n CCCCLII\n\n For the love of a knight,\n Sir Roger of Doncast\u00e8r,\n That was her own special;\n Full evil might they fare!\n\n CCCCLIII\n\n They took together their counsel\n Robin Hood for to sle,\n And how they might best do that deed,\n His banis[923] for to be.\n\n CCCCLIV\n\n Then bespake good Robin,\n In place where as he stood,\n \u2018To-morrow I must to Kirksley,\n Craftily[924] to be letten blood.\u2019\n\n CCCCLV\n\n Sir Roger [and the prioress\n A springe[925] for him did] lay,\n And there they betray\u2019d good Robin Hood,\n Through their fals\u00e8 play.\n\n CCCCLVI\n\n Christ have mercy on his soul,\n That died upon the rood!\n For he was a good outl\u00e0w,\n And did poor men much good.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[707] Meiny = retinue.\n\n[708] Lithe = hearken.\n\n[709] Barn\u00e8sdale = a forest region between Pontefract and Doncaster.\n\n[710] groom = man.\n\n[711] lest = lust, desire.\n\n[712] uncouth = unknown, strange.\n\n[713] were = might be.\n\n[714] alder = of all.\n\n[715] doubt = fear.\n\n[716] reave = plunder.\n\n[717] force = matter, account.\n\n[718] husband = husbandman.\n\n[719] shaw = grove.\n\n[720] lere = learn.\n\n[721] far days = late in the day.\n\n[722] the Sayles = a small farm near Pontefract.\n\n[723] Watling Street = the great North road.\n\n[724] Upchance = perchance.\n\n[725] dight = prepared.\n\n[726] dern\u00e8 = hidden, retired.\n\n[727] street = road.\n\n[728] semblaunt = aspect.\n\n[729] And set him, &c. = and knelt down.\n\n[730] Hend\u00e8 = gracious.\n\n[731] fere = company.\n\n[732] Blyth = near E. Retford.\n\n[733] careful cheer = sad countenance.\n\n[734] leer = cheek.\n\n[735] numbles = inwards, tripe.\n\n[736] brere = briar.\n\n[737] dear-worth = precious.\n\n[738] let = desist.\n\n[739] have part of thee = side with thee, aid thee.\n\n[740] counsel = secret.\n\n[741] of force = by force.\n\n[742] of yeomanry = from the yeoman class.\n\n[743] a sorry husband = a wretched manager.\n\n[744] okerer = usurer.\n\n[745] lecher = an unchaste man.\n\n[746] disgrate = fallen in fortune.\n\n[747] kenn\u2019d = knew.\n\n[748] lorn = lost.\n\n[749] set to wed = put to pledge, mortgaged.\n\n[750] told = counted.\n\n[751] fall of = become of.\n\n[752] busk = make ready to go.\n\n[753] raw = row.\n\n[754] borrows = sureties.\n\n[755] Do way thy jap\u00e8s = away with thy jests.\n\n[756] to = for.\n\n[757] shope = created.\n\n[758] But if = unless.\n\n[759] lap = wrap.\n\n[760] mete = meted, measured.\n\n[761] met = measured.\n\n[762] palfrey = a saddle-horse.\n\n[763] teen = trouble.\n\n[764] knave = servant.\n\n[765] come = came.\n\n[766] But = unless.\n\n[767] fee = property.\n\n[768] ilk\u00e8 = same.\n\n[769] shand = shame.\n\n[770] in my beard = contradicting, or thwarting me.\n\n[771] deem\u00e8d = judged.\n\n[772] wonder sore = monstrous severely.\n\n[773] Until = unto.\n\n[774] cors\u00e8d = bodied.\n\n[775] salued = saluted.\n\n[776] shrewd = cursed.\n\n[777] But = if not.\n\n[778] fend = defend.\n\n[779] fone = foes.\n\n[780] gree = satisfaction.\n\n[781] But I have = unless I have.\n\n[782] canst = knowest.\n\n[783] put myself ... in press = adventured myself.\n\n[784] release = quittance.\n\n[785] ell\u00e8s = else.\n\n[786] Take = give.\n\n[787] Ne had not been = had it not been for.\n\n[788] With peacock ... y-dight = fitted with peacock feathers.\n\n[789] lancegay = a javelin-lance.\n\n[790] his mail = his bag or trunk.\n\n[791] roden = they rode.\n\n[792] y-pight = placed, fixed.\n\n[793] far and frembd bestad = in the plight of one from far and a\nstranger.\n\n[794] shende = shame.\n\n[795] wete = know.\n\n[796] shete = shoot.\n\n[797] fet = fetched.\n\n[798] wight = strong, brave.\n\n[799] woning wane = usual dwelling-place.\n\n[800] I-wis = assuredly.\n\n[801] meed = reward.\n\n[802] lewt\u00e8 = loyalty.\n\n[803] yede = went.\n\n[804] livery = allowance of food.\n\n[805] Sith = since.\n\n[806] hind = knave, servant.\n\n[807] lent = gave.\n\n[808] mountenance = extent, space.\n\n[809] fette = fetched.\n\n[810] masars = maple-bowls.\n\n[811] cou\u2019d = knew.\n\n[812] bedene = in company, together.\n\n[813] tynd\u00e8s = tines, antlers.\n\n[814] sloo = slay.\n\n[815] courtepy = a short coat or cloak.\n\n[816] lap = wrap.\n\n[817] smerte = smart.\n\n[818] anchor = hermit.\n\n[819] frere = friar.\n\n[820] to-morne = to-morrow.\n\n[821] brand = sword.\n\n[822] await = plan, plot.\n\n[823] scathe = harm.\n\n[824] hip = the fruit of the wild rose.\n\n[825] trest = trusty.\n\n[826] that mirth\u00e8s can = that can crack a joke.\n\n[827] tray and teen = grief and trouble.\n\n[828] a Black Monk = a Benedictine.\n\n[829] wed = wager.\n\n[830] seker and sad = sure and steady.\n\n[831] somers = pack-horses.\n\n[832] But = unless.\n\n[833] press = crowd.\n\n[834] hend = hands.\n\n[835] thrift = thriving, luck.\n\n[836] bolt = a blunt arrow.\n\n[837] Rathely = quickly.\n\n[838] set ... to-fore = hit upon.\n\n[839] gan gon = did go.\n\n[840] lief = glad.\n\n[841] Maugre in his teeth = in spite of him.\n\n[842] no force = no matter.\n\n[843] ray = striped cloth.\n\n[844] avow\u00e8 = founder, patron.\n\n[845] So ... mote I the = so may I prosper.\n\n[846] eftsoons = soon.\n\n[847] borrowhood = surety.\n\n[848] Dame = Mother.\n\n[849] mark = 13_s._ 4_d._\n\n[850] myster = need.\n\n[851] cast = throw, as in dice.\n\n[852] hend = gracious.\n\n[853] moot = meeting, assembly.\n\n[854] seek = search.\n\n[855] mail = wallet, bag.\n\n[856] forc\u00e8r = coffer, strong-box.\n\n[857] sith = then.\n\n[858] For better cheap = more cheaply.\n\n[859] brook = enjoy, use.\n\n[860] overtold = counted over.\n\n[861] alder-best = best of all.\n\n[862] law = low.\n\n[863] fynly = goodly.\n\n[864] wete = know.\n\n[865] tackles = arrows.\n\n[866] worth thee = be to thee.\n\n[867] behot\u00e8 = didst promise.\n\n[868] wed = pledge, security.\n\n[869] blive = quickly.\n\n[870] bushment = ambush.\n\n[871] meeds = wages.\n\n[872] dead = certain, sure.\n\n[873] rawe = row.\n\n[874] win = go, attain.\n\n[875] behote = promise.\n\n[876] wonest = dwellest.\n\n[877] up to rout = to assemble in a band, to call to arms.\n\n[878] dight = done, performed.\n\n[879] leasing = lying.\n\n[880] yede = went.\n\n[881] whole = healed.\n\n[882] wood = furious, mad.\n\n[883] bidene = together.\n\n[884] took = gave.\n\n[885] ren = run.\n\n[886] pass = limits, extent.\n\n[887] There = where.\n\n[888] unneth = scarcely.\n\n[889] fay = faith.\n\n[890] That ye will = to whom you wish.\n\n[891] halk = nook, hiding-place.\n\n[892] forst\u00e8r = forester.\n\n[893] lede = following, retinue.\n\n[894] lead\u00e8s-man = guide.\n\n[895] convent = company of monks.\n\n[896] mail-horse = baggage-horse.\n\n[897] lind = linden, lime tree.\n\n[898] stide = stead, place.\n\n[899] lording = gentleman.\n\n[900] Halfen-deal = half.\n\n[901] targe = disk (seal).\n\n[902] dight\u00e0nd = making preparations.\n\n[903] pine = pain, passion.\n\n[904] henn\u00e8s = hence.\n\n[905] lend = dwell.\n\n[906] shent = put to shame, hurt.\n\n[907] yards = rods.\n\n[908] tine = forfeit.\n\n[909] falls = is proper.\n\n[910] frere = friar.\n\n[911] But me like = unless I like.\n\n[912] pluck-buffet = \u2018app. a competition between archers, in which he\nwho missed or failed \u201ccaught\u201d a buffet from his competitor\u2019 (_N.E.D._).\n\n[913] lere = learn.\n\n[914] hipp\u00e8d = hopped, limped.\n\n[915] laid down = spent money.\n\n[916] By then = by the time that.\n\n[917] therefro = turned from it.\n\n[918] woolward = in a rough woollen shirt (as penance).\n\n[919] hight = promised.\n\n[920] Me list = it pleases me.\n\n[921] throw = interval of time.\n\n[922] Again = back.\n\n[923] banis = bane, destruction.\n\n[924] craftily = skilfully.\n\n[925] springe = trap.\n\n\n\n\n_116. Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne_\n\n\n I\n\n When shaws[926] beene sheene[927], and shradds[928] full fayre,\n And leves both large and longe,\n Itt is merrye walking in the fayre forr\u00e8st\n To heare the small birds\u2019 songe.\n\n II\n\n The woodweele[929] sang, and wold not cease,\n [Sitting upon the spraye,\n Soe lowde, he wakened Robin Hood,\n In the grenewood where he lay.\n\n III\n\n \u2018Now by my faye,\u2019 sayd jollye Rob\u00ecn,\n \u2018A sweaven[930] I had this night;\n I dreamt me of two wight[931] yemen,\n That fast with me can fight.]\n\n IV\n\n \u2018Methought they did mee beate and binde,\n And tooke my bow mee fro;\n If I be Robin alive in this lande,\n I\u2019ll be wroken[932] on them towe.\u2019\n\n V\n\n \u2018Sweavens are swift, Master,\u2019 quoth John,\n \u2018As the wind that blowes ore a hill;\n For if itt be never so loude this night,\n To-morrow itt may be still.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Buske[933] yee, bowne[934] yee, my merry men all,\n And John shall goe with mee,\n For I\u2019le goe seeke yond wight yemen,\n In grenewood where they bee.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n They cast on them their gownes of grene,\n [And tooke theyr bowes each one;\n And all away to the grene forr\u00e8st]\n A shooting forth are gone;\n\n VIII\n\n Until they came to the merry grenewood,\n Where they had gladdest bee,\n There were they ware of a wight yem\u00e0n,\n His body lean\u2019d to a tree.\n\n IX\n\n A sword and a dagger he wore by his side,\n Of manye a man the bane;\n And he was clad in his capull-hyde[935]\n Topp and tayll and mayne.\n\n X\n\n \u2018Stand you still, Master,\u2019 quoth Little John,\n \u2018Under this trusty tree,\n And I will go to yond wight yeoman\n To know his meaning trulye.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n \u2018A! John, by me thou settest noe store,\n And that\u2019s a farley[936] finde.\n How offt send I my men beffore,\n And tarry my selfe behinde?\n\n XII\n\n \u2018It is noe cunning a knave to ken,\n An a man but heare him speake;\n An itt were not for bursting of my bowe,\n John, I wold thy head breake.\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n As often wordes they breeden bale,\n So they parted Robin and John:\n And John is gone to Barn\u00e8sdale;\n The gates[937] he knoweth eche one.\n\n XIV\n\n But when he came to Barn\u00e8sdale,\n Great heavinesse there hee hadd,\n For he found two of his owne fell\u00f2wes\n Were slaine both in a slade[938].\n\n XV\n\n And Scarlette \u00e0-foote he flyinge was\n Fast over stocke and stone,\n For the Sheriffe with seven score men\n Fast after him is gone.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018Yet one shoote I\u2019le shoote,\u2019 quoth Little John,\n \u2018With Christ his might and mayne;\n I\u2019le make yond fellow that flyes soe fast,\n To stopp he shall be fayne.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n Then John bent up his good yewe-bowe\n And fettl\u2019d[939] him to shoote:\n The bow was made of a tender boughe,\n And fell downe to his foote.\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018Woe worth thee, wicked wood,\u2019 sayd John,\n \u2018That ere thou grew on a tree!\n For now this day thou art my bale,\n My boote[940] when thou shold bee.\u2019\n\n XIX\n\n His shoote it was but loosely shott,\n Yet it flewe not in vaine,\n For itt met one of the Sheriff\u2019s men,\n Good William \u00e0 Trent was slaine.\n\n XX\n\n It had bene better of William \u00e0 Trent\n To have hang\u00e8d upon a gall\u00f2w,\n Than to be that day in the grene-wood\n To meet Little John\u2019s arrowe.\n\n XXI\n\n But as it is said, when men be mett\n Fyve can doe more than three,\n The Sheriffe hath taken Little John,\n And bound him fast to a tree.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018Thou shalt be drawen by dale and downe,\n And hang\u00e8d hye on a hill.\u2019--\n \u2018But thou mayst fayle,\u2019 quoth Little John,\n \u2018If itt be Christ his will.\u2019\n\n XXIII\n\n Let us leave talking of Little John,\n And thinke of Robin Hood,\n How he is gone to the wight yem\u00e0n,\n Where under the leaves he stood.\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018Good morrowe, good fellowe,\u2019 sayd Robin so fayre,\n \u2018Good morrowe, good fellow,\u2019 quoth he:\n \u2018Methinkes by this bowe thou beares in thy hande\n A good archere thou sholdst bee.\u2019\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018I am wilfull[941] of my waye,\u2019 quo\u2019 the yeman,\n \u2018And of my morning tyde[942].\u2019\n \u2018I\u2019le lead thee through the wood,\u2019 sayd Robin;\n \u2018Good fellow, I\u2019le be thy guide.\u2019\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018I seeke an outl\u00e0we,\u2019 the straunger sayd,\n \u2018Men call him Robin Hood;\n Rather I\u2019ld meet with that proud outl\u00e0we,\n Than fortye pound of go\u2019d.\u2019--\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018If you two met, it wold be seene\n Whether were better man:\n But let us under the lev\u00e8s grene\n Some other pastime plan.\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018Let us some other masteryes[943] make\n Among the woods so even,\n Wee may chance meet with Robin Hood\n Here att some unsett steven[944].\u2019\n\n XXIX\n\n They cutt them downe two summer shroggs[945],\n That grew both under a breere,\n And sett them threescore rood in twinne[946]\n To shoot the prickes[947] y-fere.\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018Leade on, good fellowe,\u2019 quoth Robin Hood,\n \u2018Leade on, I doe bidd thee.\u2019--\n \u2018Nay by my faith, good fellowe,\u2019 hee sayd,\n \u2018My leader thou shalt bee.\u2019\n\n XXXI\n\n The first good shoot that Robin led,\n He mist but an inch it fro\u2019:\n The yeoman he was an archer good,\n But he cold ne\u2019er shoote soe.\n\n XXXII\n\n The second shoote had the wight yem\u00e0n,\n He shote within the garl\u00e0nde:\n But Robin he shott far better than hee,\n For he clave the good pricke wande.\n\n XXXIII\n\n \u2018God\u2019s blessing upon thy heart!\u2019 he sayd;\n \u2018Good fellowe, thy shooting is goode;\n For an thy hart be as good as thy hand,\n Thou wert better than Robin Hood.\u2019\n\n XXXIV\n\n \u2018Now tell me thy name, good fellowe,\u2019 sayd he,\n \u2018Under the leaves of lyne[948].\u2019--\n \u2018Nay by my faith,\u2019 quoth good Rob\u00ecn,\n \u2018Till thou have told me thine.\u2019\n\n XXXV\n\n \u2018I dwell by dale and downe,\u2019 quoth hee,\n \u2018And Robin to take I\u2019me sworne;\n And when I am call\u00e8d by my right name\n I am Guy of good Gisborne.\u2019--\n\n XXXVI\n\n \u2018My dwelling is in this wood,\u2019 sayes Robin,\n \u2018By thee I set right nought:\n I am Robin Hood of Barn\u00e8sdale,\n Whom thou so long hast sought.\u2019\n\n XXXVII\n\n He that had neither beene kithe nor kin,\n Might have seene a full fayre sight,\n To see how together these yemen went\n With blades both browne and bright:\n\n XXXVIII\n\n To see how these yemen together they fought\n Two howres of a summer\u2019s day:\n Yett neither Sir Guy nor Robin Hood\n Them fettled to flye away.\n\n XXXIX\n\n Robin was reachles on[949] a roote,\n And stumbled at that tyde;\n And Guy was quick and nimble with-all,\n And hitt him o\u2019er the left side.\n\n XL\n\n \u2018Ah deere Lady!\u2019 sayd Robin Hood,\n \u2018That art both mother and may[950],\n I think it was never man\u2019s destinye\n To dye before his day.\u2019\n\n XLI\n\n Robin thought on Our Ladye deere,\n And soone leapt up againe,\n And strait he came with an aukward[951] stroke,\n And he Sir Guy hath slayne.\n\n XLII\n\n He took Sir Guy\u2019s head by the hayre,\n And stick\u00e8d itt on his bowes end:\n \u2018Thou hast been traytor all thy liffe,\n Which thing must have an ende.\u2019\n\n XLIII\n\n Robin pulled forth an Irish kniffe,\n And nicked Sir Guy in the face,\n That he was never on woman born,\n Cold tell whose head it was.\n\n XLIV\n\n Saies, \u2018Lye there, lye there, good Sir Guy,\n And with me be not wrothe;\n If thou have had the worse strokes at my hand,\n Thou shalt have the better clothe.\u2019\n\n XLV\n\n Robin did off his gowne of greene,\n And on Sir Guy did it throwe,\n And hee put on that capull-hyde[952],\n That clad him topp to toe.\n\n XLVI\n\n \u2018The bowe, the arrowes, and litle horne,\n Now with me I will beare;\n For I will away to Barn\u00e8sdale,\n To see how my men doe fare.\u2019\n\n XLVII\n\n Robin sett Guy\u2019s horne to his mouth,\n A loud blast in it he did blow,\n That beheard the Sheriffe of Nottingham,\n As he leaned under a lowe[953].\n\n XLVIII\n\n \u2018Hearken! hearken!\u2019 sayd the Sheriffe,\n \u2018I heare now tydings good,\n For yonder I heare Sir Guy\u2019s horne blowe,\n And he hath slaine Robin Hood.\n\n XLIX\n\n \u2018Yonder I heare Sir Guy\u2019s horne blowe,\n Itt blowes soe well in tyde,\n And yonder comes that wight yem\u00e0n,\n Cladd in his capull-hyde.\n\n L\n\n \u2018Come hyther, come hyther, thou good Sir Guy,\n Aske what thou wilt of mee.\u2019--\n \u2018O I will none of thy gold,\u2019 sayd Robin,\n \u2018Nor I will none of thy fee:\n\n LI\n\n \u2018But now I have slaine the master,\u2019 he sayes,\n \u2018Let me go strike the knave;\n This is all the rewarde I aske;\n Nor noe other will I have.\u2019\n\n LII\n\n \u2018Thou art a madman,\u2019 said the Sheriffe,\n \u2018Thou sholdest have had a knight\u2019s fee:\n But seeing thy asking hath beene so bad,\n Well granted it shall be.\u2019\n\n LIII\n\n When Little John heard his master speake,\n Well knewe he it was his steven[954]:\n \u2018Now shall I be looset,\u2019 quoth Little John,\n \u2018With Christ his might in heaven.\u2019\n\n LIV\n\n Robin hee hyed him to Little John,\n He thought to loose him belive[955];\n The Sheriffe and all his companye\n Fast after him did drive.\n\n LV\n\n \u2018Stand abacke! stand abacke!\u2019 sayd Robin Hood;\n \u2018Why draw you mee soe neere?\n Itt was never the use in our countrye,\n One\u2019s shrift another shold heere.\u2019\n\n LVI\n\n But Robin pull\u2019d forth an Irysh kniffe,\n And losed John hand and foote,\n And gave him Sir Guy\u2019s bow into his hand,\n And bade it be his boote.\n\n LVII\n\n Then John he took Guy\u2019s bow in his hand,\n His boltes and arrowes eche one:\n When the Sheriffe saw Little John bend his bow,\n He fettled him to be gone.\n\n LVIII\n\n Towards his house in Nottingham towne\n He fled full fast away;\n And soe did all his companye:\n Not one behind wold stay.\n\n LIX\n\n But he cold neither goe soe fast,\n Nor away soe fast cold runne,\n But Little John with an arrowe soe broad,\n Did cleave his herte in twinne.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[926] shaws = woods.\n\n[927] sheene = bright.\n\n[928] shradds = coppices(?).\n\n[929] woodweele = woodlark, thrush(?).\n\n[930] sweaven = dream.\n\n[931] wight = sturdy.\n\n[932] wroken = revenged.\n\n[933] Buske = dress.\n\n[934] bowne = get ready.\n\n[935] capull-hyde = horse-hide.\n\n[936] farley = wondrous strange.\n\n[937] gates = ways, paths.\n\n[938] slade = hollow.\n\n[939] fettl\u2019d = prepared.\n\n[940] boote = help.\n\n[941] wilfull = astray.\n\n[942] tyde = time of day.\n\n[943] masteryes = trials of skill.\n\n[944] unsett steven = time not appointed.\n\n[945] shroggs = shrubs.\n\n[946] threescore rood in twinne = sixty rods apart.\n\n[947] prickes = marks.\n\n[948] lyne = linden.\n\n[949] reachles on = reckless, careless of.\n\n[950] may = maid.\n\n[951] aukward = back-handed.\n\n[952] capull-hyde = horse-hide.\n\n[953] lowe = hillock.\n\n[954] steven = voice.\n\n[955] belive = straightway.\n\n\n\n\n_117. Robin Hood and the Monk_\n\n\n I\n\n In somer, when the shawes[956] be sheyne[957],\n And leves be large and long,\n Hit is full mery in feyre foreste\n To here the foulys song:\n\n II\n\n To se the dere draw to the dale,\n And leve the hill\u00e8s hee,\n And shadow hem in the lev\u00eb\u2019s grene,\n Under the grene-wode tre.\n\n III\n\n Hit befel on Whitsontide,\n Erly in a May mornyng,\n The Son up feyre can shyne,\n And the briddis mery can syng.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018This is a mery mornyng,\u2019 seid Litull John,\n \u2018Be Hym that dyed on tre;\n A more mery man then I am one\n Lyves not in Cristiant\u00eb.\n\n V\n\n \u2018Pluk up thi hert, my dere mayster,\u2019\n Litull John can sey,\n \u2018And thynk hit is a full fayre tyme\n In a mornyng of May.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Ye, on thyng greves me,\u2019 seid Robyn,\n \u2018And does my hert mych woo;\n That I may not no solem day\n To mas nor matyns goo.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Hit is a fourtnet and more,\u2019 seid he,\n \u2018Syn I my Savyour see;\n To day wil I to Notyngham,\u2019 seid Robyn,\n \u2018With the myght of mylde Marye.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n Than spake Moche, the mylner son,--\n Ever more wel hym betyde!\n \u2018Take twelve of thi wyght yem\u00e8n[958],\n Well weppynd, be thi side.\n Such on wolde thi selfe slon[959],\n That twelve dar not abyde.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Of all my mery men,\u2019 seid Robyn,\n \u2018Be my feith I wil non have,\n But Litull John shall beyre my bow,\n Til that me list to drawe.\u2019\n\n X\n\n \u2018Thou shall beyre thin own,\u2019 seid Litull John,\n \u2018Maister, and I wyl beyre myne,\n And we well shete a peny[960],\u2019 seid Litull John,\n \u2018Under the grene-wode lyne[961].\u2019\n\n XI\n\n \u2018I wil not shete a peny,\u2019 seyd Robyn Hode,\n \u2018In feith, Litull John, with the,\n But ever for on as thou shetis,\u2019 seide Robyn,\n \u2018In feith I holde[962] the thre.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n Thus shet thei forth, these yemen two,\n Bothe at buske[963] and brome,\n Til Litull John wan of his maister\n Five shillings to hose and shone.\n\n XIII\n\n A ferly[964] strife fel them betwene,\n As they went bi the wey;\n Litull John seid he had won five shillings,\n And Robyn Hode seid schortly nay.\n\n XIV\n\n With that Robyn Hode lyed[965] Litull John,\n And smote hym with his hande;\n Litull John wax\u00e8d wroth therwith,\n And pull\u2019d out his bright bronde.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Were thou not my maister,\u2019 seid Litull John,\n \u2018Thou shuldis be hit ful sore;\n Get the a man wher thou wilt,\n For thou getis me no more.\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n Then Robyn goes to Notyngham,\n Hym selfe mornyng allone,\n And Litull John to mery Scherwode,\n The pathes he knew ilkone[966].\n\n XVII\n\n Whan Robyn came to Notyngham,\n Sertenly withouten layn[967],\n He prayed to God and myld Mary\n To bryng hym out save agayn.\n\n XVIII\n\n He gos in to Seynt Mary chirch,\n And kneled down before the rode;\n Alle that e\u2019er were the church within\n Beheld wel Robyn Hode.\n\n XIX\n\n Beside hym stod a gret-hedid munke,\n I pray to God woo he be!\n Fful sone he knew gode Robyn,\n As sone as he hym se.\n\n XX\n\n Out at the durre he ran,\n Fful sone and anon;\n Alle the yatis[968] of Notyngham\n He made to be sparred[969] euerychon.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018Rise up,\u2019 he seid, \u2018thou prowde Schereff,\n Buske[970] the and make the bowne[971];\n I have spy\u00e8d the Kynggis felon,\n Fforsothe he is in this town.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018I have spy\u00e8d the false felon,\n As he stondis at his masse;\n Hit is long of[972] the,\u2019 seide the munke\n \u2018And ever he fro us passe.\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018This traytur name is Robyn Hode,\n Under the grene-wode lynde;\n He robbyt me onys of a hundred pound,\n Hit shalle never out of my mynde.\u2019\n\n XXIV\n\n Up then rose this prowde Shereff,\n And radly[973] made hym yare[974];\n Many was the moder son\n To the kyrk with hym can fare.\n\n XXV\n\n In at the durres thei throly thrast[975],\n With stav\u00e8s ful gode wone[976];\n \u2018Alas, alas!\u2019 seid Robyn Hode,\n \u2018Now mysse I Litull John.\u2019\n\n XXVI\n\n But Robyn toke out a two-hond sworde,\n That hangit down be his kne;\n Ther as the Schereff and his men stode thyckust,\n Thethurwarde wolde he.\n\n XXVII\n\n Thryes thorowout them he ran then,\n Forsothe as I yow sey,\n And woundyt mony a moder son,\n And twelve he slew that day.\n\n XXVIII\n\n His sworde upon the Schereff hed\n Sertanly he brake in two;\n \u2018The smyth that the made,\u2019 seid Robyn,\n \u2018I pray to God wyrke hym woo!\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018Ffor now am I weppynlesse,\u2019 seid Robyn,\n \u2018Alasse! agayn my wylle;\n But if[977] I may fle these traytors fro,\n I wot thei wil me kyll.\u2019\n\n XXX\n\n Robyn into the church\u00eb ran,\n Throout hem everilkon ...\n [Then word is gone to his yemen\n In grene-wode wher they wone[978].]\n\n XXXI\n\n Sum fel in swonyng as thei were dede,\n And lay stil as any stone;\n Non of theym were in her mynde\n But only Litull John.\n\n XXXII\n\n \u2018Let be your rule[979],\u2019 seid Litull John,\n \u2018Ffor his luf that dyed on tre;\n Ye that shulde be dughty[980] men,\n Het is gret shame to se.\n\n XXXIII\n\n \u2018Oure maister has bene hard bystode\n And yet scapyd away;\n Pluk up your hertis, and leve this mone[981],\n And harkyn what I shal say.\n\n XXXIV\n\n \u2018He has seruyd Oure Lady many a day,\n And yet wil, securly;\n Therfor I trust in hir specialy\n No wyckud deth shal he dye.\n\n XXXV\n\n \u2018Therfor be glad,\u2019 seid Litull John,\n \u2018And let this mournyng be;\n And I shal be the munkis gyde[982],\n With the myght of mylde Mary.\u2019\n\n XXXVI\n\n [Than spake Moche, the mylner son,]\n \u2018We will go but we two.\u2019--\n \u2018An I mete hym,\u2019 seid Litull John,\n [\u2018I trust to wyrke hym woo.]\n\n XXXVII\n\n \u2018Loke that ye kepe wel owre tristil-tre[983],\n Under the levys smale[984],\n And spare non of this venyson,\n That gose in thys vale.\u2019\n\n XXXVIII\n\n Fforthe then went these yemen two,\n Litull John and Moche on fere[985],\n And lokid on Moch\u2019 emys hows[986],--\n The hye-way lay full nere.\n\n XXXIX\n\n Litull John stode at a wyndow in the mornyng,\n And lokid forth at a stage[987];\n He was war wher the munke came ridyng,\n And with hym a litul page.\n\n XL\n\n \u2018Be my feith,\u2019 seid Litull John to Moch,\n \u2018I can the tel tithyngus[988] gode;\n I se wher the monke cumys rydyng,\n I know hym be his wyde hode.\u2019\n\n XLI\n\n They went in to the way, these yemen bothe,\n As curtes men and hende[989];\n Thei spyrred[990] tithyngus at the munke,\n As they hade bene his frende.\n\n XLII\n\n \u2018Ffro whens come ye?\u2019 seid Litull John,\n \u2018Tel us tithyngus, I yow pray,\n Off a false owtlay, callid Robyn Hode,\n Was takyn yisterday.\n\n XLIII\n\n \u2018He robbyt me and my felowes bothe\n Of twenti marke in serten;\n If that false owtlay be takyn,\n Ffor sothe we wolde be fayn.\u2019\n\n XLIV\n\n \u2018So did he me,\u2019 seid the munke,\n \u2018Of a hundred pound and more;\n I layde furst hande hym apon,\n Ye may thonke me therfore.\u2019\n\n XLV\n\n \u2018I pray God thanke you,\u2019 seid Litull John,\n \u2018And we wil when we may;\n We wil go with you, with your leve,\n And bryng yow on your way.\n\n XLVI\n\n \u2018Ffor Robyn Hode hase many a wilde felow,\n I tell you in certen;\n If thei wist ye rode this way,\n In feith ye shulde be slayn.\u2019\n\n XLVII\n\n As thei went talking be the way,\n The munke and Litull John,\n John toke the munkis horse be the hede,\n Fful sone and anon.\n\n XLVIII\n\n John toke the munkis horse be the hed,\n Fforsothe as I yow say;\n So did Much the litull page,\n Ffor he shulde not scape away.\n\n XLIX\n\n Be the golett[991] of the hode\n John pulled the munk\u00e8 down;\n John was nothyng of hym agast[992],\n He lete hym falle on his crown.\n\n L\n\n Litull John was sore agrevyd,\n And drew owt his swerde in hye[993];\n This munk\u00e8 saw he shulde be ded,\n Lowd mercy can he crye.\n\n LI\n\n \u2018He was my maister,\u2019 seid Litull John,\n \u2018That thou hase browght in bale[994];\n Shalle thou never cum at our Kyng,\n Ffor to telle hym tale.\u2019\n\n LII\n\n John smote of the munkis hed,\n No longer wolde he dwell;\n So did Moch the litull page,\n Ffor ferd[995] lest he wolde tell.\n\n LIII\n\n Ther thei bery\u00e8d hem bothe,\n In nouther mosse nor lyng,\n And Litull John and Much in fere\n Bare the letturs to oure Kyng.\n\n LIV\n\n [Whan John came unto oure Kyng]\n He knelid down on his kne:\n God yow save, my leg\u00e8 lorde,\n Jhesus yow save and se!\n\n LV\n\n \u2018God yow save, my leg\u00e8 Kyng!\u2019\n To speke John was full bolde;\n He gaf hym the letturs in his hond,\n The Kyng did hit unfold.\n\n LVI\n\n The Kyng red the letturs anon,\n And seid, \u2018So mot I the[996],\n Ther was never yoman in mery Inglond\n I longut so sore to se.\n\n LVII\n\n \u2018Wher is the munke that these shuld have brought?\u2019\n Our\u00e8 Kyng can say:\n \u2018Be my trouth,\u2019 seid Litull John,\n \u2018He dyed after[997] the way.\u2019\n\n LVIII\n\n The Kyng gaf Moch and Litull John\n Twenti pound in sertan,\n And made theim yemen of the crown,\n And bade theim go agayn.\n\n LIX\n\n He gaf John the seel in hand,\n The Sheref for to bere,\n To bryng Robyn hym to,\n And no man do hym dere[998].\n\n LX\n\n John toke his leve at oure Kyng,\n The sothe as I yow say;\n The next[999] way to Notyngham\n To take, he yede[1000] the way.\n\n LXI\n\n Whan John came to Notyngham\n The yatis were sparred ychon[1001];\n John callid up the porter,\n He answerid sone anon.\n\n LXII\n\n \u2018What is the cause,\u2019 seid Litull John,\n \u2018Thou sparris the yates so fast?\u2019--\n \u2018Because of Robyn Hode,\u2019 seid the porter,\n \u2018In depe prison is cast.\n\n LXIII\n\n \u2018John and Moch and Wyll Scathlok,\n Ffor sothe as I yow say,\n Thei slew oure men upon our wallis,\n And sawten[1002] us every day.\u2019\n\n LXIV\n\n Litull John spyrred after the Schereff,\n And sone he hym fonde;\n He oppyned the Kyngus prive seell,\n And gaf hym in his honde.\n\n LXV\n\n Whan the Scheref saw the Kyngus seell,\n He did of his hode[1003] anon:\n \u2018Wher is the munke that bare the letturs?\u2019\n He seid to Litull John.\n\n LXVI\n\n \u2018He is so fayn of hym,\u2019 seid Litull John,\n \u2018Fforsothe as I yow say,\n He has made hym abot of Westmynster,\n A lorde of that abbay.\u2019\n\n LXVII\n\n The Scheref made John god\u00e8 chere,\n And gaf hym wyne of the best;\n At nyght thei went to her[1004] bedd\u00e8,\n And every man to his rest.\n\n LXVIII\n\n When the Scheref was on slepe,\n Dronken of wyne and ale,\n Litull John and Moch forsothe\n Toke the way unto the jale.\n\n LXIX\n\n Litull John callid up the jayler,\n And bade hym rise anon;\n He seyd Robyn Hode had brokyn prison,\n And out of hit was gon.\n\n LXX\n\n The porter rose anon sertan,\n As sone as he herd John calle;\n Litull John was redy with a swerd,\n And bare hym to the walle.\n\n LXXI\n\n \u2018Now wil I be porter,\u2019 seid Litull John,\n \u2018And take the keyes in honde:\u2019\n He toke the way to Robyn Hode,\n And sone he hym unbonde.\n\n LXXII\n\n He gaf hym a gode swerd in his hond,\n His hed therwith for to kepe,\n And ther as the walle was lowyst\n Anon down can thei lepe.\n\n LXXIII\n\n Be that the cok began to crow,\n The day began to spryng,\n The Scheref fond the jaylier ded;\n The comyn bell[1005] made he ryng.\n\n LXXIV\n\n He made a crye thoroout al the town,\n Wheder he be yoman or knave,\n That cowth\u00e8 bryng hym Robyn Hode,\n His warison[1006] he shuld have.\n\n LXXV\n\n \u2018Ffor I dar never,\u2019 said the Scheref,\n \u2018Cum before oure Kyng;\n Ffor if I do, I wot serten\n Ffor sothe he wil me heng.\u2019\n\n LXXVI\n\n The Scheref made to seke Notyngham,\n Bothe be strete and stye[1007],\n And Robyn was in mery Scherwode,\n As light as lef on lynde.\n\n LXXVII\n\n Then bespake gode Litull John,\n To Robyn Hode can he say,\n \u2018I have done the a gode turne for an evyll,\n Quyte the whan thou may.\n\n LXXVIII\n\n \u2018I have done the a gode turne,\u2019 seid Litull John,\n \u2018Fforsothe as I yow say;\n I have brought the under grene-wode lyne;\n Ffare wel, and have gode day.\u2019\n\n LXXIX\n\n \u2018Nay, be my trouth,\u2019 seid Robyn Hode,\n \u2018So shall hit never be;\n I make the maister,\u2019 seid Robyn Hode,\n \u2018Off alle my men and me.\u2019\n\n LXXX\n\n \u2018Nay, be my trouth,\u2019 seid Litull John,\n \u2018So shalle hit never be;\n But lat me be a felow,\u2019 seid Litull John,\n \u2018No noder kepe I be[1008].\u2019\n\n LXXXI\n\n Thus John gate Robyn Hode out of prison,\n Sertan withoutyn layn;\n Whan his men saw hym hol and sounde,\n Fforsothe they were full fayne.\n\n LXXXII\n\n They fill\u00e8d in wyne, and made hem glad,\n Under the levys smale,\n And yete[1009] past\u00e8s of venyson,\n That gode was with ale.\n\n LXXXIII\n\n Than word\u00e8 came to oure Kyng\n How Robyn Hode was gon,\n And how the Scheref of Notyngham\n Durst never loke hym upon.\n\n LXXXIV\n\n Then bespake oure cumly Kyng,\n In an angur hye:\n \u2018Litull John hase begyled the Schereff,\n In faith so hase he me.\n\n LXXXV\n\n \u2018Litull John has begyled us bothe\n And that full wel I se;\n Or ellis the Schereff of Notyngham\n Hye hongut shulde he be.\n\n LXXXVI\n\n \u2018I made hem yemen of the crowne,\n And gaf hem fee with my hond;\n I gaf hem grith[1010],\u2019 seid oure Kyng,\n \u2018Thorowout all mery Inglond.\n\n LXXXVII\n\n \u2018I gaf theym grith,\u2019 then seid oure Kyng;\n \u2018I say, so mot I the,\n Fforsothe soch a yeman as he is on\n In all Inglond ar not thre.\n\n LXXXVIII\n\n \u2018He is trew to his maister,\u2019 seid our Kyng;\n \u2018I sey, be swete Seynt John,\n He lovys better Robyn Hode\n Then he dose us ychon.\n\n LXXXIX\n\n \u2018Robyn Hode is ever bond to hym,\n Bothe in strete and stalle;\n Speke no more of this mater,\u2019 seid oure Kyng,\n \u2018But John has begyled us alle.\u2019\n\n XC\n\n Thus endys the talkyng of the munke\n And Robyn Hode i-wysse;\n God, that is ever a crowned kyng,\n Bryng us all to his blisse!\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[956] shawes = woods.\n\n[957] sheyne = bright, beautiful.\n\n[958] wyght yem\u00e8n = sturdy yeomen.\n\n[959] slon = slay.\n\n[960] shete a peny = shoot for a penny.\n\n[961] lyne = linden.\n\n[962] holde = wager.\n\n[963] buske = bush.\n\n[964] ferly = wondrous, strange.\n\n[965] lyed = gave the lie to.\n\n[966] ilkone = each one.\n\n[967] layn = concealment.\n\n[968] yatis = gates.\n\n[969] sparred = barred.\n\n[970] Buske = get ready.\n\n[971] bowne = bound, ready.\n\n[972] long of = along of, i. e. thy fault.\n\n[973] radly = quickly.\n\n[974] yare = ready.\n\n[975] throly thrast = pressed stubbornly.\n\n[976] gode wone = good number, plenty.\n\n[977] But if = unless.\n\n[978] wone = dwelt.\n\n[979] rule = \u2018taking on,\u2019 lamenting.\n\n[980] dughty = doughty.\n\n[981] mone = moan.\n\n[982] gyde = be the guide, take charge of.\n\n[983] tristil-tre = trysting-tree, rendezvous.\n\n[984] smale = small.\n\n[985] on fere = in company.\n\n[986] emys hows = uncle\u2019s house.\n\n[987] at a stage = on an upper floor.\n\n[988] tithyngus = tidings.\n\n[989] hende = civil.\n\n[990] spyrred = spiered, inquired.\n\n[991] golett = gullet, throat.\n\n[992] of him agast = alarmed about him.\n\n[993] hye = haste.\n\n[994] bale = harm.\n\n[995] ferd = fear.\n\n[996] mot I the = I thrive.\n\n[997] after = behind on.\n\n[998] dere = injury.\n\n[999] next = nighest.\n\n[1000] yede = went.\n\n[1001] ychon = each one.\n\n[1002] sawten = assault.\n\n[1003] did of his hode = took off his hat.\n\n[1004] her = their.\n\n[1005] comyn bell = town bell.\n\n[1006] warison = reward.\n\n[1007] stye = path, alley.\n\n[1008] kepe I be = care I to be.\n\n[1009] yete = ate.\n\n[1010] grith = charter of peace.\n\n\n\n\n_118. Robin Hood and the Curtal Friar_\n\n\n _But how many months be in the year?\n There are thirteen, I say;\n The midsummer moon is the merryest of all\n Next to the merry month of May._\n\n I\n\n In summer time, when leaves grow green,\n And flowers are fresh and gay,\n Robin Hood and his merry men\n Were [all] disposed to play.\n\n II\n\n Then some would leap, and some would run,\n And some use artillery:\n \u2018Which of you can a good bow draw,\n A good archer to be?\n\n III\n\n \u2018Which of you can kill a buck?\n Or who can kill a doe?\n Or who can kill a hart of grease,\n Five hundred foot him fro?\u2019\n\n IV\n\n Will Scadlock he kill\u2019d a buck,\n And Midge he kill\u2019d a doe,\n And Little John kill\u2019d a hart of grease,\n Five hundred foot him fro.\n\n V\n\n \u2018God\u2019s blessing on thy heart,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018That hath [shot] such a shot for me;\n I would ride my horse an hundred miles,\n To finde one could match with thee\u2019\n\n VI\n\n That caus\u2019d Will Scadlock to laugh,\n He laugh\u2019d full heartily:\n \u2018There lives a curtal friar in Fountains Abbey\n Will beat both him and thee.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018That curtal friar in Fountains Abbey\n Well can a strong bow draw;\n He will beat you and your yeomen,\n Set them all on a row.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n Robin Hood took a solemn oath,\n It was by Mary free,\n That he would neither eat nor drink\n Till the friar he did see.\n\n IX\n\n Robin Hood put on his harness good,\n And on his head a cap of steel,\n Broad sword and buckler by his side,\n And they became him weel.\n\n X\n\n He took his bow into his hand,\n It was made of a trusty tree,\n With a sheaf of arrows at his belt,\n To the Fountains Dale went he.\n\n XI\n\n And coming unto Fountain[s] Dale,\n No further would he ride;\n There was he aware of a curtal friar,\n Walking by the water-side.\n\n XII\n\n The friar had on a harness good,\n And on his head a cap of steel,\n Broad sword and buckler by his side,\n And they became him weel.\n\n XIII\n\n Robin Hood lighted off his horse,\n And tied him to a thorn:\n \u2018Carry me over the water, thou curtal friar,\n Or else thy life\u2019s forlorn.\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n The friar took Robin Hood on his back,\n Deep water he did bestride,\n And spake neither good word nor bad,\n Till he came at the other side.\n\n XV\n\n Lightly leapt Robin Hood off the friar\u2019s back;\n The friar said to him again,\n \u2018Carry me over this water, fine fellow,\n Or it shall breed thy pain.\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n Robin Hood took the friar on \u2019s back,\n Deep water he did bestride,\n And spake neither good word nor bad,\n Till he came at the other side.\n\n XVII\n\n Lightly leapt the friar off Robin Hood\u2019s back;\n Robin Hood said to him again,\n \u2018Carry me over this water, thou curtal friar,\n Or it shall breed thy pain.\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n The friar took Robin Hood on\u2019s back again,\n And stept up to the knee;\n Till he came at the middle stream,\n Neither good nor bad spake he.\n\n XIX\n\n And coming to the middle stream,\n There he threw Robin in:\n \u2018And chuse thee, chuse thee, fine fellow,\n Whether thou wilt sink or swim!\u2019\n\n XX\n\n Robin Hood swam to a bush of broom,\n The friar to a wicker wand;\n Bold Robin Hood is gone to shore,\n And took his bow in hand.\n\n XXI\n\n One of his best arrows under his belt\n To the friar he let flye;\n The curtal friar, with his steel buckler,\n He put that arrow by.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018Shoot on, shoot on, thou fine fell\u00f2w,\n Shoot on as thou hast begun;\n If thou shoot here a summer\u2019s day,\n Thy mark I will not shun.\u2019\n\n XXIII\n\n Robin Hood shot passing well,\n Till his arrows all were gone;\n They took their swords and steel bucklers,\n And fought with might and maine;\n\n XXIV\n\n From ten o\u2019 th\u2019 clock that day,\n Till four i\u2019 th\u2019 afternoon;\n Then Robin Hood came to his knees,\n Of the friar to beg a boon.\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018A boon, a boon, thou curtal friar!\n I beg it on my knee;\n Give me leave to set my horn to my mouth,\n And to blow blasts three.\u2019\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018That will I do,\u2019 said the curtal friar!\n \u2018Of thy blasts I have no doubt;\n I hope thou\u2019lt blow so passing well\n Till both thy eyes fall out.\u2019\n\n XXVII\n\n Robin Hood set his horn to his mouth\n He blew but blasts three;\n Half a hundred yeomen, with bows bent,\n Came raking[1011] over the lee.\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018Whose men are these,\u2019 said the friar,\n \u2018That come so hastily?\u2019\n \u2018These men are mine,\u2019 said Robin Hood\n \u2018Friar, what is that to thee?\u2019\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018A boon, a boon,\u2019 said the curtal friar,\n \u2018The like I gave to thee!\n Give me leave to set my fist to my mouth,\n And to whute[1012] whut\u00e8s three.\u2019\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018That will I do,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018Or else I were to blame;\n Three whut\u00e8s in a friar\u2019s fist\n Would make me glad and fain.\u2019\n\n XXXI\n\n The friar he set his fist to his mouth,\n And whuted whut\u00e8s three;\n Half a hundred good ban-dogs\n Came running the friar unto.\n\n XXXII\n\n \u2018Here\u2019s for every man of thine a dog,\n And I my self for thee!\u2019--\n \u2018Nay, by my faith,\u2019 quoth Robin Hood,\n \u2018Friar, that may not be.\u2019\n\n XXXIII\n\n Two dogs at once to Robin Hood did go,\n T\u2019 one behind, the other before;\n Robin Hood\u2019s mantle of Lincoln green\n Off from his back they tore.\n\n XXXIV\n\n And whether his men shot east or west,\n Or they shot north or south,\n The curtal dogs, so taught they were,\n They kept their arrows in their mouth.\n\n XXXV\n\n \u2018Take up thy dogs,\u2019 said Little John,\n \u2018Friar, at my bidding be.\u2019--\n \u2018Whose man art thou,\u2019 said the curtal friar,\n \u2018Comes here to prate with me?\u2019--\n\n XXXVI\n\n \u2018I am Little John, Robin Hood\u2019s man,\n Friar, I will not lie;\n If thou take not up thy dogs soon,\n I\u2019le take up them and thee.\u2019\n\n XXXVII\n\n Little John had a bow in his hand,\n He shot with might and main;\n Soon half a score of the friar\u2019s dogs\n Lay dead upon the plain.\n\n XXXVIII\n\n \u2018Hold thy hand, good fellow,\u2019 said the curtal friar,\n \u2018Thy master and I will agree;\n And we will have new orders taken,\n With all the haste that may be.\u2019\n\n XXXIX\n\n \u2018If thou wilt forsake fair Fountains Dale,\n And Fountains Abbey free,\n Every Sunday throughout the year,\n A noble shall be thy fee.\n\n XL\n\n \u2018And every holy day throughout the year,\n Changed shall thy garment be,\n If thou wilt go to fair Nottingham,\n And there remain with me.\u2019\n\n XLI\n\n This curtal friar had kept Fountains Dale\n Seven long years or more;\n There was neither knight, lord, nor earl\n Could make him yield before.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1011] raking = advancing.\n\n[1012] whute = whistle.\n\n\n\n\n_119. Robin Hood and the Butcher_\n\n\n I\n\n Come, all you brave gallants, and listen a while,\n That are in the bowers within;\n For of Robin Hood, that archer good,\n A song I intend for to sing.\n\n II\n\n Upon a time it chanc\u00e8d so\n Bold Robin in forrest did spy\n A jolly butch\u00e8r, with a bonny fine mare,\n With his flesh to the market did hye.\n\n III\n\n \u2018Good morrow, good fellow!\u2019 said jolly Rob\u00ecn,\n \u2018What food hast? tell unto me;\n And thy trade to me tell, and where thou dost dwell,\n For I like well thy company.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n The butcher he answered jolly Robin:\n \u2018No matter where I dwell;\n For a butcher I am, and to Notingham\n I am going, my flesh to sell.\u2019\n\n V\n\n \u2018What price thy flesh?\u2019 said jolly Rob\u00ecn,\n \u2018Come, tell it soon unto me;\n And the price of thy mare, be she never so dear,\n For a butcher fain would I be.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n \u2018The price of my flesh,\u2019 the butcher repli\u2019d,\n \u2018I soon will tell unto thee;\n With my bonny mare, and they are not dear,\n Four mark thou must give unto me.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Four mark I will give thee,\u2019 saith jolly Rob\u00ecn,\n \u2018Four mark it shall be thy fee;\n Thy mony come count, and let me mount,\n For a butcher I fain would be.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n Now Robin he is to Notingham gone,\n His butcher\u2019s trade for to begin;\n With good intent, to the Sheriff he went,\n And there he took up his inn.\n\n IX\n\n When other butchers they opened their meat,\n Bold Robin he then begun;\n But how for to sell he knew not well,\n For a butcher he was but young.\n\n X\n\n When other butchers no meat could sell,\n Robin got both gold and fee;\n For he sold more meat for one peny\n Than others could do for three.\n\n XI\n\n But when he sold his meat so fast,\n No butcher by him could thrive;\n For he sold more meat for one peny\n Than others could do for five.\n\n XII\n\n Which made the butchers of Notingham\n To study as they did stand,\n Saying, surely he was some prodigal,\n That had sold his father\u2019s land.\n\n XIII\n\n The butchers they stepped to jolly Robin,\n Acquainted with him for to be;\n \u2018Come, brother,\u2019 one said, \u2018we be all of one trade,\n Come, will you go dine with me?\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018Accurst of his heart,\u2019 said jolly Rob\u00ecn,\n \u2018That a butcher doth deny!\n I will go with you, my brethren true,\n And as fast as I can hie.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n But when to the Sheriff\u2019s house they came,\n To dinner they hied apace,\n And Robin Hood he the man must be\n Before them all to say grace.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018Pray God bless us all,\u2019 said jolly Rob\u00ecn,\n \u2018And our meat within this place;\n A cup of sack good, to nourish our blood,\n And so I do end my grace.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018Come fill us more wine,\u2019 said jolly Rob\u00ecn,\n \u2018Let us merry be while we do stay;\n For wine and good cheer, be it never so dear,\n I vow I the reck\u2019ning will pay.\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018Come, brothers, be merry,\u2019 said jolly Rob\u00ecn,\n \u2018Let us drink, and never give o\u2019er;\n For the shot I will pay, ere I go my way,\n If it cost me five pounds and more.\u2019\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018This is a mad blade,\u2019 the butchers then said;\n Says the Sheriff, \u2018He\u2019s some prodigal,\n That his land has sold, for silver and gold,\n And meaneth to spend it all.\u2019\n\n XX\n\n \u2018Hast thou any horn-beasts,\u2019 the Sheriff inquired,\n \u2018Good fellow, to sell unto me?\u2019--\n \u2018Yea, a plenty I have, good Master Sheriff,\n I have hundreds two or three.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018And a hundred acre of good free land,\n An it please you go for to see;\n And I\u2019le make you as good assurance of it\n As ever my father made me.\u2019\n\n XXII\n\n The Sheriff he saddled a good palfr\u00e8y,\n With three hundred pound in gold,\n And away he went with bold Robin Hood,\n His horn\u00e8d beasts to behold.\n\n XXIII\n\n Away then the Sheriff and Robin did ride,\n To the forest of merry Sherwood;\n Then the Sheriff did say, \u2018God bless us this day\n From a man they call Robin Hood!\u2019\n\n XXIV\n\n But when that a little further they came,\n Bold Robin he chanc\u00e8d to spy\n A hundred head of the good red deer,\n Come tripping the Sheriff full nigh.\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018How like you my horn\u2019d beasts, Master Sheriff?\n They be fat and fair for to see;\u2019\n \u2018I tell thee, good fellow, I would I were gone,\n For I like not thy company.\u2019\n\n XXVI\n\n Then Robin he set his horn to his mouth,\n And blew but blast\u00e8s three;\n Then quickly anon there came Little John,\n And all his company.\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018What is your will?\u2019 then said Little John,\n \u2018Good master come tell it to me;\u2019\n \u2018I have brought hither the Sheriff of Notingham,\n This day to dine with thee.\u2019\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018He is welcome to me,\u2019 then said Little John,\n \u2018I hope he will honestly pay;\n I know he has gold, if it be but well told,\n Will serve us to drink a whole day.\u2019\n\n XXIX\n\n Robin Hood took his mantle from his back,\n And laid it upon the ground,\n And out of the Sheriff\u2019s portmantle\n He told three hundred pound.\n\n XXX\n\n Then Robin he brought him thorow the wood,\n Set him on his dapple gray:\n \u2018O have me commended, good sir, to your wife!\u2019--\n So Robin went laughing away.\n\n\n\n\n_120. Robin Hood and the Bishop of Hereford_\n\n\n I\n\n Come, gentlemen all, and listen a while;\n A story I\u2019ll to you unfold--\n How Robin Hood serv\u00e8d the Bishop,\n When he robb\u2019d him of his gold.\n\n II\n\n As it befel in merry Barnsdale,\n And under the green-wood tree,\n The Bishop of Hereford was to come by,\n With all his companye.\n\n III\n\n \u2018Come, kill a ven\u2019son,\u2019 said bold Robin Hood,\n \u2018Come, kill me a good fat deer;\n The Bishop\u2019s to dine with me to day,\n And he shall pay well for his cheer.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018We\u2019ll kill a fat ven\u2019son,\u2019 said bold Robin Hood,\n \u2018And dress\u2019t by the highway-side,\n And narrowly watch for the Bishop,\n Lest some other way he should ride.\u2019\n\n V\n\n He dress\u2019d himself up in shepherd\u2019s attire,\n With six of his men also;\n And the Bishop of Hereford came thereby,\n As about the fire they did go.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018What matter is this?\u2019 said the Bishop;\n \u2018Or for whom do you make this a-do?\n Or why do you kill the King\u2019s ven\u2019son,\n When your company is so few?\u2019\n\n VII\n\n \u2018We are shepherds,\u2019 said bold Robin Hood,\n \u2018And we keep sheep all the year;\n And we are disposed to be merry this day,\n And to kill of the King\u2019s fat deer.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018You are brave fellowes,\u2019 said the Bishop,\n \u2018And the King of your doings shall know;\n Therefore make haste, come along with me,\n For before the King you shall go.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n \u2018O pardon, O pardon,\u2019 says bold Robin Hood,\n \u2018O pardon, I thee pray!\n For it never becomes your lordship\u2019s coat\n To take so many lives away.\u2019\n\n X\n\n \u2018No pardon, no pardon!\u2019 the Bishop says;\n \u2018No pardon I thee owe;\n Therefore make haste, come along with me,\n For before the King you shall go.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n Robin set his back against a tree,\n And his foot against a thorn,\n And from underneath his shepherd\u2019s coat\n He pull\u2019d out a bugle horn.\n\n XII\n\n He put the little end to his mouth,\n And a loud blast did he blow,\n Till threescore and ten of bold Robin\u2019s men\n Came running all on a row;\n\n XIII\n\n All making obeisance to bold Robin Hood;\n --\u2019Twas a comely sight for to see:\n \u2018What matter, my master,\u2019 said Little John,\n \u2018That you blow so hastilye?\u2019--\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018O here is the Bishop of Hereford,\n And no pardon we shall have.\u2019--\n \u2018Cut off his head, master,\u2019 said Little John,\n \u2018And throw him into his grave.\u2019--\n\n XV\n\n \u2018O pardon, O pardon,\u2019 said the Bishop,\n \u2018O pardon, I thee pray!\n For if I had known it had been you,\n I\u2019d have gone some other way.\u2019--\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018No pardon, no pardon!\u2019 said Robin Hood;\n \u2018No pardon I thee owe;\n Therefore make haste, come along with me,\n For to merry Barnsdale you shall go.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n Then Robin has taken the Bishop\u2019s hand\n And led him to merry Barnsdale;\n He made him to stay and sup with him that night,\n And to drink wine, beer and ale.\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018Call in the reckoning,\u2019 said the Bish\u00f2p,\n \u2018For methinks it grows wondrous high.\u2019--\n \u2018Lend me your purse, Bishop,\u2019 said Little John,\n \u2018And I\u2019ll tell you by-and-by.\u2019\n\n XIX\n\n Then Little John took the Bishop\u2019s cloak,\n And spread it upon the ground,\n And out of the Bishop\u2019s portmantua\n He told three hundred pound.\n\n XX\n\n \u2018So now let him go,\u2019 said Robin Hood;\n Said Little John, \u2018That may not be;\n For I vow and protest he shall sing us a mass\n Before that he go from me.\u2019\n\n XXI\n\n Robin Hood took the Bishop by the hand,\n And bound him fast to a tree,\n And made him to sing a mass, God wot,\n To him and his yeomandrye.\n\n XXII\n\n Then Robin Hood brought him through the wood\n And caus\u00e8d the music to play,\n And he made the Bishop to dance in his boots,\n And they set him on \u2019s dapple-grey,\n And they gave the tail within his hand--\n And glad he could so get away!\n\n\n\n\n_121. Robin Hood and Alan a Dale_\n\n\n I\n\n Come listen to me, you gallants so free,\n All you that love mirth for to hear,\n And I will you tell of a bold outl\u00e0w,\n That lived in Nottinghamshire.\n\n II\n\n As Robin Hood in the forest stood,\n All under the green-wood tree,\n There was he ware of a brave young man,\n As fine as fine might be.\n\n III\n\n The youngster was clothed in scarlet red,\n In scarlet fine and gay,\n And he did frisk it over the plain,\n And chanted a roundelay.\n\n IV\n\n As Robin Hood next morning stood,\n Amongst the leaves so gay,\n There did he espy the same young man\n Come drooping along the way.\n\n V\n\n The scarlet he wore the day before,\n It was clean cast away;\n And every step he fetcht a sigh,\n \u2018Alack and a well a day!\u2019\n\n VI\n\n Then stepp\u00e8d forth brave Little John,\n And Much the miller\u2019s son,\n Which made the young man bend his bow,\n When as he saw them come.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Stand off, stand off!\u2019 the young man said,\n \u2018What is your will with me?\u2019--\n \u2018You must come before our master straight,\n Under yon green-wood tree.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n And when he came bold Robin before,\n Robin askt him courteously,\n \u2018O hast thou any money to spare,\n For my merry men and me?\u2019\n\n IX\n\n \u2018I have no money,\u2019 the young man said,\n \u2018But five shillings and a ring;\n And that I have kept this seven long years,\n To have it at my wedd\u00ecng.\n\n X\n\n \u2018Yesterday I should have married a maid,\n But she is now from me tane,\n And chosen to be an old knight\u2019s delight,\n Whereby my poor heart is slain.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n \u2018What is thy name?\u2019 then said Robin Hood,\n \u2018Come tell me, without any fail.\u2019--\n \u2018By the faith of my body,\u2019 then said the young man,\n \u2018My name it is Alan a Dale.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n \u2018What wilt thou give me,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018In ready gold or fee,\n To help thee to thy true-love again,\n And deliver her unto thee?\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018I have no money,\u2019 then quoth the young man,\n \u2018No ready gold nor fee,\n But I will swear upon a book\n Thy true servant for to be.\u2019--\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018But how many miles to thy true-love?\n Come tell me without any guile.\u2019--\n \u2018By the faith of my body,\u2019 then said the young man,\n \u2018It is but five little mile.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n Then Robin he hasted over the plain,\n He did neither stint nor lin[1013],\n Until he came unto the church\n Where Alan should keep his wedd\u00ecng.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018What dost thou do here?\u2019 the Bishop he said,\n \u2018I prithee now tell to me:\u2019\n \u2018I am a bold harper,\u2019 quoth Robin Hood,\n \u2018And the best in the north countrey.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018O welcome, O welcome!\u2019 the Bishop he said,\n \u2018That musick best pleaseth me.\u2019--\n \u2018You shall have no musick,\u2019 quoth Robin Hood,\n \u2018Till the bride and the bridegroom I see.\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n With that came in a wealthy knight,\n Which was both grave and old,\n And after him a finikin lass,\n Did shine like glistering gold.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018This is no fit match,\u2019 quoth bold Robin Hood,\n \u2018That you do seem to make here;\n For since we are come unto the church,\n The bride she shall chuse her own dear.\u2019\n\n XX\n\n Then Robin Hood put his horn to his mouth,\n And blew blasts two or three;\n When four and twenty bowmen bold\n Come leaping over the lee.\n\n XXI\n\n And when they came into the churchyard,\n Marching all on a row,\n The first man was Alan a Dale,\n To give bold Robin his bow.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018This is thy true-love,\u2019 Robin he said,\n \u2018Young Alan, as I hear say;\n And you shall be married at this same time,\n Before we depart away.\u2019\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018That shall not be,\u2019 the Bishop he said,\n \u2018For thy word it shall not stand;\n They shall be three times askt in the church,\n As the law is of our land.\u2019\n\n XXIV\n\n Robin Hood pull\u2019d off the Bishop\u2019s coat,\n And put it upon Little John;\n \u2018By the faith of my body,\u2019 then Robin said,\n \u2018This cloath doth make thee a man.\u2019\n\n XXV\n\n When Little John went into the quire,\n The people began for to laugh;\n He askt them seven times in the church,\n Least three should not be enough.\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018Who gives me this maid?\u2019 then said Little John;\n Quoth Robin, \u2018That do I!\n And he that doth take her from Alan a Dale\n Full dearly he shall her buy.\u2019\n\n XXVII\n\n And thus having ended this merry wedd\u00ecng\n The bride lookt as fresh as a queen,\n And so they return\u2019d to the merry green-wood,\n Amongst the leaves so green.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1013] lin = stop.\n\n\n\n\n_122. Robin Hood and the Widow\u2019s Three Sons_\n\n\n I\n\n There are twelve months in all the year,\n As I hear many men say,\n But the merriest month in all the year\n Is the merry month of May.\n\n II\n\n Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone,\n _With a link a down and a day_,\n And there he met a silly old woman,\n Was weeping on the way.\n\n III\n\n \u2018What news? what news, thou silly old woman?\n What news hast them for me?\u2019\n Said she, \u2018There\u2019s three squires in Nottingham town\n To-day is condemn\u2019d to die.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n \u2018O have they parishes burnt?\u2019 he said,\n \u2018Or have they ministers slain?\n Or have they robb\u2019d any virgin,\n Or other men\u2019s wives have ta\u2019en?\u2019--\n\n V\n\n \u2018They have no parishes burnt, good sir,\n Nor yet have ministers slain,\n Nor have they robbed any virgin,\n Nor other men\u2019s wives have ta\u2019en.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n \u2018O what have they done?\u2019 said bold Robin Hood,\n \u2018I pray thee tell to me.\u2019--\n \u2018It\u2019s for slaying of the King\u2019s fallow deer,\n Bearing their long bows with thee.\u2019--\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Dost thou not mind, old woman,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018Since thou made me sup and dine?\n By the truth of my body,\u2019 quoth bold Robin Hood,\n \u2018You could tell it in no better time.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone,\n _With a link a down and a day_,\n And there he met with a silly old palmer,\n Was walking along the highway.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018What news? what news, thou silly old man?\n What news, I do thee pray?\u2019--\n Said he, \u2018Three squires in Nottingham town\n Are condemned to die this day.\u2019--\n\n X\n\n \u2018Come change thy apparel with me, old man,\n Come change thy apparel for mine;\n Here is forty shillings in good silver,\n Go drink it in beer or wine.\u2019--\n\n XI\n\n \u2018O thine apparel is good,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018And mine is ragged and torn;\n Wherever you go, wherever you ride,\n Laugh ne\u2019er an old man to scorn.\u2019--\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Come change thy apparel with me, old churl,\n Come change thy apparel with mine;\n Here are twenty pieces of good broad gold,\n Go feast thy brethren with wine.\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n Then he put on the old man\u2019s hat,\n It stood full high on the crown:\n \u2018The first bold bargain that I come at,\n It shall make thee come down.\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n Then he put on the old man\u2019s cloak,\n Was patch\u2019d black, blue, and red;\n He thought no shame, all the day long,\n To wear the bags of bread.\n\n XV\n\n Then he put on the old man\u2019s breeks,\n Was patch\u2019d from ballup[1014] to side;\n \u2018By the truth of my body,\u2019 bold Robin can say,\n \u2018This man lov\u2019d little pride!\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n Then he put on the old man\u2019s hose,\n Were patch\u2019d from knee to wrist;\n \u2018By the truth of my body,\u2019 said bold Robin Hood,\n \u2018I\u2019d laugh if I had any list[1015].\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n Then he put on the old man\u2019s shoes,\n Were patch\u2019d both beneath and aboon;\n Then Robin Hood swore a solemn oath,\n \u2018It\u2019s good habit that makes a man!\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone,\n _With a link a down and a down_,\n And there he met with the proud Sher\u00edff,\n Was walking along the town.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018O save, O save, O Sheriff,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018O save, and you may see!\n And what will you give to a silly old man\n To-day will your hangman be?\u2019\n\n XX\n\n \u2018Some suits, some suits,\u2019 the Sheriff he said,\n \u2018Some suits I\u2019ll give to thee;\n Some suits, some suits, and pence thirteen\n To-day\u2019s a hangman\u2019s fee.\u2019\n\n XXI\n\n Then Robin he turns him round about,\n And jumps from stock to stone;\n \u2018By the truth of my body,\u2019 the Sheriff he said,\n \u2018That\u2019s well jumpt, thou nimble old man.\u2019--\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018I was ne\u2019er a hangman in all my life,\n Nor yet intends to trade;\n But curst be he,\u2019 said bold Robin,\n \u2018That first a hangman was made!\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018I\u2019ve a bag for meal, and a bag for malt,\n And a bag for barley and corn;\n A bag for bread, and a bag for beef,\n And a bag for my little small horn.\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018I have a horn in my pock\u00e8t,\n I got it from Robin Hood,\n And still when I set it to my mouth,\n For thee it blows little good.\u2019--\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018O wind thy horn, thou proud fell\u00f2w,\n Of thee I have no doubt;\n I wish that thou give such a blast\n Till both thy eyes fall out.\u2019\n\n XXVI\n\n The first loud blast that he did blow,\n He blew both loud and shrill;\n A hundred and fifty of Robin Hood\u2019s men\n Came riding over the hill.\n\n XXVII\n\n The next loud blast that he did give,\n He blew both loud and amain;\n And quickly sixty of Robin Hood\u2019s men\n Came shining over the plain.\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018O who are yon,\u2019 the Sheriff he said,\n \u2018Come tripping over the lee?\u2019\n \u2018They\u2019re my attendants,\u2019 brave Robin did say,\n \u2018They\u2019ll pay a visit to thee.\u2019\n\n XXIX\n\n They took the gallows from the slack[1016],\n They set it in the glen,\n They hang\u2019d the proud Sheriff on that,\n And releas\u2019d their own three men.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1014] ballup = front, or flap.\n\n[1015] list = inclination, desire for it.\n\n[1016] slack = hollow, dell.\n\n\n\n\n_123. Robin Hood\u2019s Golden Prize_\n\n\n I\n\n I have heard talk of bold Robin Hood,\n And of brave Little John,\n Of Friar Tuck, and Will Scarlet,\n Locksley, and Maid Marion.\n\n II\n\n But such a tale as this before\n I think there was never none;\n For Robin Hood disguised himself,\n And to the wood is gone.\n\n III\n\n Like to a friar bold Robin Hood\n Was accouter\u2019d in his array;\n With hood, gown, beads and crucifix,\n He pass\u2019d upon the way.\n\n IV\n\n He had not gone miles two or three,\n But it was his chance to spy\n Two lusty priests, clad all in black,\n Come riding gallantly.\n\n V\n\n \u2018Benedicite,\u2019 then said Robin Hood,\n \u2018Some pity on me take;\n Cross you my hand with a silver groat,\n For Our dear Ladye\u2019s sake!\n\n VI\n\n \u2018For I have been wand\u2019ring all this day,\n And nothing could I get;\n Not so much as one poor cup of drink,\n Nor bit of bread to eat.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n \u2018By my holydame,\u2019 the priests repli\u2019d,\n \u2018We never a penny have;\n For we this morning have been robb\u2019d,\n And could no money save.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018I am much afraid\u2019 said bold Robin Hood,\n \u2018That you both do tell a lye;\n And now before that you go hence,\n I am resolv\u2019d to try.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n When as the priests heard him say so,\n They rode away amain;\n But Robin betook him to his heels,\n And soon overtook them again.\n\n X\n\n Then Robin Hood laid hold of them both,\n And pull\u2019d them down from their horse:\n \u2018O spare, us, friar!\u2019 the priests cry\u2019d out,\n \u2018On us have some remorse!\u2019\n\n XI\n\n \u2018You said you had no money,\u2019 quoth he;\n \u2018Wherefore without delay\n We three will fall down on our knees,\n And for money we will pray.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n The priests they could not him gainsay,\n But down they kneel\u2019d with speed;\n \u2018Send us, O send us,\u2019 then quoth they,\n \u2018Some money to serve our need!\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n The priests did pray with mournful chear,\n Sometimes their hands did wring,\n Sometimes they wept and cried aloud,\n Whilst Robin did merrily sing.\n\n XIV\n\n When they had pray\u2019d an hour\u2019s space,\n The priests did still lament;\n Then quoth bold Robin, \u2018Now let\u2019s see\n What money heaven hath us sent.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018We will be sharers all alike\n Of the money that we have;\n And there is never a one of us\n That his fellows shall deceive.\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n The priests their hands in their pockets put,\n But money would find none:\n \u2018We\u2019ll search ourselves,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018Each other, one by one.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n Then Robin took pains to search them both,\n And he found good store of gold;\n Five hundred pieces presently\n Upon the grass was told.\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018Here\u2019s a brave show,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018Such store of gold to see!\n And you shall each one have a part,\n \u2019Cause you pray\u2019d so heartily.\u2019\n\n XIX\n\n He gave them fifty pound a-piece,\n And the rest for himself did keep;\n The priests they durst not speak one word,\n But they sigh\u00e8d wondrous deep.\n\n XX\n\n With that the priests rose up from their knees,\n And thought to have parted so;\n \u2018Nay, stay,\u2019 said Robin Hood, \u2018one thing more\n I have to say ere you go.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018You shall be sworn,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018Upon this holy grass,\n That you will never tell lies again,\n Which way soever you pass.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018The second oath that you here must take,\n All the days of your lives\n You never shall tempt maids to sin,\n Nor covet other men\u2019s wives.\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018The last oath you shall take, it is this,\n Be charitable to the poor;\n Say you have met with a holy friar,\n And I desire no more.\u2019\n\n XXIV\n\n He set them upon their horses again,\n And away then they did ride;\n And he return\u2019d to the merry green-wood,\n With great joy, mirth and pride.\n\n\n\n\n_124. The Noble Fisherman_\n\n_or Robin Hood\u2019s Preferment_\n\n\n I\n\n In summer time, when leaves grow green,\n When they doe grow both green and long,\n Of a bold outlaw call\u2019d Robin Hood\n It is of him I sing this song.\n\n II\n\n When the lilly leafe and the elephant[1017]\n Doth bud and spring with a merry good cheere,\n This outlaw was weary of the wood-side,\n And chasing of the fallow deere.\n\n III\n\n \u2018The fisherman brave more mony have\n Then any merchant, two or three;\n Therefore I will to Scarboro\u2019 goe,\n That I a fisherman brave may be.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n This outlaw call\u2019d his merry men all,\n As they sate under the green-wood tree:\n If any of you have gold to spend,\n I pray you heartily spend it with me.\n\n V\n\n \u2018Now,\u2019 quoth Robin, \u2018I\u2019le to Scarboro\u2019 goe,\n It seemes to be a very faire day\u2019--\n He tooke up his inne at a widdow-woman\u2019s house,\n Hard by upon the water gray:\n\n VI\n\n Who asked of him, \u2018Where wert thou born?\n Or tell to me, where dost thou fare?\u2019--\n \u2018I am a poore fisherman,\u2019 saith he then,\n \u2018This day intrapp\u00e8d all in care.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n \u2018What is thy name, thou fine fell\u00f2w?\n I pray thee heartily tell to me\u2019;\n \u2018In mine own country where I was born,\n Men called me Simon over the Lee.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Simon, Simon,\u2019 said the good wife,\n \u2018I wish thou maist well brook[1018] thy name\u2019;\n The outlaw was ware of her courtesie,\n And rejoyc\u2019d he had got such a dame.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Simon, wilt thou be my man?\n And good round wages I\u2019le give thee;\n I have as good a ship of mine owne\n As any sayle upon the sea.\n\n X\n\n \u2018Anchors and planks thou shalt want none,\n Masts and ropes that are so long\u2019--\n \u2018And if that you thus furnish me,\u2019\n Said Simon, \u2018nothing shall goe wrong.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n They pluckt up anchor, and away did sayle,\n More of a day then two or three;\n When others cast in their baited hooks,\n The bare lines into the sea cast he.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018It will be long,\u2019 said the master then,\n \u2018Ere this great lubber do thrive on the sea;\n I\u2019le assure you he shall have no part of our fish,\n For in truth he is of no part worth\u1ef3.\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018O woe is me,\u2019 said Simon then,\n \u2018This day that ever I came here!\n I wish I were in Plomton Parke,\n In chasing of the fallow deere.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018For every clowne laughs me to scorne,\n And they by me set nought at all;\n If I had them in Plomton Park,\n I would set as little by them all.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n They pluckt up anchor, and away did sayle,\n More of a day then two or three;\n But Simon spied a ship of warre,\n That sayld towards them most valourouslie.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018O woe is me,\u2019 said the master then,\n \u2018This day that ever I was borne!\n For all our fish we have got to-day\n Is every bit lost and forlorne[1019].\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018For your French robbers on the sea,\n They will not spare of us one man,\n But carry us to the coast of France,\n And ligge us in the prison strong.\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n But Simon said, \u2018Doe not feare them,\n Neither, master, take you no care;\n Give me my bent bow in my hand,\n And never a Frenchman will I spare.\u2019--\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018Hold thy peace, thou long lubber,\n For thou art nought but braggs and boast;\n If I should cast thee over-board,\n There were nothing but a lubber lost.\u2019\n\n XX\n\n Simon grew angry at these words,\n And so angry then was he\n That he tooke his bent bow in his hand,\n And to the ship-hatch goeth he.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018Master, tye me to the mast,\u2019 saith he,\n \u2018That at my mark I may stand fair,\n And give me my bended bow in my hand,\n And never a Frenchman will I spare.\u2019\n\n XXII\n\n He drew his arrow to the very head,\n And drew it with all might and maine,\n And straightway, in the twinkling of an eye,\n To the Frenchman\u2019s heart the arrow did gain.\n\n XXIII\n\n The Frenchman fell downe on the ship-hatch,\n And under the hatches down below;\n Another Frenchman that him espy\u2019d\n The dead corps into the sea doth throw.\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018O master, loose me from the mast,\n And for them all take you no care;\n And give me my bent bow in my hand,\n And never a Frenchman will I spare!\u2019\n\n XXV\n\n Then straight they did board the Frenchman\u2019s ship,\n They lying all dead in their sight;\n They found within the ship of warre\n Twelve thousand pound of money bright.\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018One halfe of the ship,\u2019 said Simon then,\n \u2018I\u2019le give to my dame and children small;\n The other halfe of the ship I\u2019le bestow\n On you that are my fellowes all.\u2019\n\n XXVII\n\n But now bespake the master then,\n \u2018For so, Simon, it shall not be;\n For you have won her with your own hand,\n And the owner of it you shall bee.\u2019--\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018It shall be so, as you have said;\n And, with this gold, for the opprest\n An habitation I will build,\n Where they shall live in peace and rest.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1017] elephant = a weed of the scabious order.\n\n[1018] brook = enjoy, or earn the name of Simon, as a fisherman.\n\n[1019] forlorne = lost.\n\n\n\n\n_125. The Death of Robin Hood_\n\n\n I\n\n When Robin Hood and Little John\n _Down a-down, a-down, a-down_\n Went o\u2019er yon bank of broom,\n Said Robin Hood bold to Little John,\n \u2018We have shot for many a pound\n _Hey, down a-down, a-down!_\n\n II\n\n \u2018But I am not able to shoot one shot more,\n My broad arrows will not flee;\n But I have a cousin lives down below,\n Please God, she will bleed me.\n\n III\n\n \u2018I will never eat nor drink,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018Nor meat will do me good,\n Till I have been to merry Kirkleys\n My veins for to let blood.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018The dame prior is my aunt\u2019s daughter,\n And nigh unto my kin;\n I know she wo\u2019ld me no harm this day,\n For all the world to win.\u2019\n\n V\n\n \u2018That I rede[1020] not,\u2019 said Little John,\n \u2018Master, by th\u2019assent of me,\n Without half a hundred of your best bowmen\n You take to go with yee.\u2019--\n\n VI\n\n \u2018An thou be afear\u2019d, thou Little John,\n At home I rede thee be.\u2019--\n \u2018An you be wroth, my deare mast\u00e8r\n You shall never hear more of me.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n Now Robin is gone to merry Kirkleys\n And knock\u00e8d upon the pin:\n Up then rose Dame Prior\u00e8ss\n And let good Robin in.\n\n VIII\n\n Then Robin gave to Dame Prior\u00e8ss\n Twenty pound in gold,\n And bade her spend while that did last,\n She sho\u2019ld have more when she wo\u2019ld.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Will you please to sit down, cousin Robin,\n And drink some beer with me?\u2019--\n \u2018No, I will neither eat nor drink\n Till I am blooded by thee.\u2019\n\n X\n\n Down then came Dame Prior\u00e8ss\n Down she came in that ilk[1021],\n With a pair of blood-irons in her hands,\n Were wrapp\u00e8d all in silk.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Set a chafing-dish to the fire,\u2019 she said,\n \u2018And strip thou up thy sleeve.\u2019\n --I hold him but an unwise man\n That will no warning \u2019leeve[1022]!\n\n XII\n\n She laid the blood-irons to Robin\u2019s vein,\n Alack, the more pitye!\n And pierc\u2019d the vein, and let out the blood\n That full red was to see.\n\n XIII\n\n And first it bled the thick, thick blood,\n And afterwards the thin,\n And well then wist good Robin Hood\n Treason there was within.\n\n XIV\n\n And there she blooded bold Robin Hood\n While one drop of blood wou\u2019d run;\n There did he bleed the live-long day,\n Until the next at noon.\n\n XV\n\n He bethought him then of a casement there,\n Being lock\u00e8d up in the room,\n But was so weak he could not leap,\n He could not get him down.\n\n XVI\n\n He bethought him then of his bugle-horn,\n That hung low down to his knee;\n He set his horn unto his mouth,\n And blew out weak blasts three.\n\n XVII\n\n Then Little John he heard the horn\n Where he sat under a tree:\n \u2018I fear my master is now near dead,\n He blows so wearilye.\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n Little John is gone to merry Kirkleys,\n As fast as he can dree;\n And when he came to merry Kirkleys,\n He broke locks two or three:\n\n XIX\n\n Until he came bold Robin to see,\n Then he fell on his knee;\n \u2018A boon, a boon!\u2019 cries Little John,\n \u2018Master, I beg of thee!\u2019\n\n XX\n\n \u2018What is that boon,\u2019 said Robin Hood,\n \u2018Little John, thou begs of me?\u2019--\n \u2018It is to burn fair Kirkleys-hall,\n And all their nunnerye.\u2019\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018Now nay, now nay,\u2019 quoth Robin Hood,\n \u2018That boon I\u2019ll not grant thee;\n I never hurt woman in all my life,\n Nor men in their company.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018I never hurt maid in all my time,\n Nor at mine end shall it be;\n But give me my bent bow in my hand,\n And a broad arrow I\u2019ll let flee;\n And where this arrow is taken up\n There shall my grave digg\u2019d be.\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018But lay me a green sod under my head,\n And another at my feet;\n And lay my bent bow at my side,\n Which was my music sweet;\n And make my grave of gravel and green,\n Which is most right and meet.\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018Let me have length and breadth enough,\n And under my head a sod;\n That they may say when I am dead,\n --_Here lies bold Robin Hood!_\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1020] rede = advise.\n\n[1021] in that ilk = in that same (moment), then and there.\n\n[1022] \u2019leeve = believe.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK VI\n\n\n\n\n_126. Durham Field_\n\n\n I\n\n Lordings, listen, and hold you still;\n Hearken to me a spell;\n I shall you tell of the fairest battell\n That ever in England befell.\n\n II\n\n It befell in Edward the Third\u2019s dayes,\n When in England he ware the crowne,\n That all the chief chivalry of England\n They busk\u00e8d[1023] and made them bowne[1024].\n\n III\n\n They have chosen all the best archers\n That in England might be found,\n And all was to fight with the King of France,\n Within a litle stounde[1025].\n\n IV\n\n And when our King was over the water,\n And on the salt sea gone,\n Then tydings into Scotland came\n That all England was gone.\n\n V\n\n Bowes and arrowes they all were forth;\n At home was not left a man\n But shepards and millers both,\n And preists with shaven crownes.\n\n VI\n\n Then the King of Scotts in a study stood,\n As he was a man of great might;\n He sware he would hold his parlament in leeve[1026] London,\n If he cold ryde there right.\n\n VII\n\n Then bespake a Squire, of Scottland borne,\n And sayd, \u2018My leege, ha\u2019 peace,\n Before you come to leeve London,\n Full sore you\u2019le rue that race.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Ther beene bold yeomen in merry England,\n Husbandmen stiffe and strong;\n Sharp\u00e8 swords they done weare,\n Bearen bowes and arrowes longe.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n The King was angrye at that word;\n A long sword out he drew,\n And there before his royall companye\n His own\u00e8 Squire hee slew.\n\n X\n\n Hard hansell[1027] had the Scottes that day,\n That wrought them woe enoughe,\n For a Scott then durst not speake a word\n Ffor hanging att a boughe.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018The Earle of Anguish[1028], where art thou?\n In my coate-armour thou shalt bee,\n And thou shalt lead the forward\n Thorow the English countrye.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Take thee Yorke,\u2019 then sayd the King,\n \u2018In stead wheras it doth stand;\n I\u2019le make thy eldest sonne after thee\n Heyre of all Northumberland.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018The Earle of Buchan, where be yee?\n In my coate-armour thou shalt bee;\n The high Peak and all Darbyshire\n I give it thee to thy fee.\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n The famous Douglas then came in,\n Saies, \u2018What shall my meede bee?\n And I will lead the vanward, lord,\n Thorow the English countrye.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Take thee Worster,\u2019 sayd the King,\n \u2018Tuxburye, Killingworth, Burton on Trent;\n Doe thou not say another day\n But I gave thee lands and rent.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018Sir Richard of Edenborrow, where are yee?\n A wise man in this warr!\n I\u2019le give thee Bristow and the shire\n The time that wee come there.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018Thou, my lord Nevill, where art thou?\n Thou must in this warres bee;\n I\u2019le give thee Shrewsburye,\u2019 saies the King,\n \u2018And Coventrye faire and free.\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018My lord of Hambleton[1029], where art thou?\n Thou art of my kin full nye;\n I\u2019le give thee Lincolne and Lincolneshire,\n And that\u2019s enoughe for thee.\u2019\n\n XIX\n\n By then came in William Douglas,\n As breeme[1030] as any bore;\n He kneel\u00e8d him downe upon his knees,\n In his heart he sigh\u00e8d sore.\n\n XX\n\n \u2018I have serv\u00e8d you, my lovelye liege,\n This thirty winters and four,\n And in the Scottish Marches\n Have beene wounded and beaten sore.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018For all the good service that I have done,\n What now shall my meed bee?\n And I will lead the vanward\n Thorow the English countrye.\u2019\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018Now aske on, Douglas,\u2019 said the King,\n \u2018And granted it shall bee.\u2019--\n \u2018Why then, I aske litle London,\u2019 saies Douglas,\n \u2018Gotten gif that it bee.\u2019\n\n XXIII\n\n The King was wroth, and rose away,\n Saies, \u2018Nay, that cannot bee!\n For that I will keepe for my cheefe chamber,\n Gotten gif that it bee.\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018But take thee North Wales and Weschester,\n The countrye all round about,\n And rewarded thou shalt bee,\n Of that take thou noe doubt.\u2019\n\n XXV\n\n Five score knights he made on a day,\n And dubb\u2019d them with his hands;\n Rewarded them right worthilye\n With the townes in merry England.\n\n XXVI\n\n And when the fresh knights they were made,\n To battell they buske[1031] them bowne[1032];\n Jam\u00e8s Douglas he went before,\n And he thought to have wonnen him shoone.\n\n XXVII\n\n But they were mett in a morning of May\n With the comminaltye of litle England;\n But there scap\u00e8d never a man away,\n Through the might of Christ\u00e8s hand.\n\n XXVIII\n\n But all onely Jam\u00e8s Douglas;\n In Durham in the ffeild\n An arrow stroke him in the thye;\n Fast flinges he towards the King.\n\n XXIX\n\n The King looked toward litle Durham,\n Saies, \u2018All things is not weel!\n For James Douglas beares an arrow in his thye,\n The head of it is of steele.\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018How now, James?\u2019 then said the King,\n \u2018How now, how may this bee?\n And where beene all thy merrymen\n That thou tooke hence with thee?\u2019\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018But cease, my King,\u2019 saies James Douglas,\n \u2018Alive is not left a man!\u2019\n \u2018Now by my faith,\u2019 saies the King of Scotts,\n \u2018That gate was evil gone.\n\n XXXII\n\n \u2018But I\u2019le revenge thy quarrell well,\n And of that thou may be fain;\n For one Scott will beate five Englishmen,\n If they meeten them on the plaine.\u2019\n\n XXXIII\n\n \u2018Now hold your tongue,\u2019 saies James Douglas,\n \u2018For in faith that is not soe;\n For one English man is worth five Scotts,\n When they meeten together thoe[1033].\n\n XXXIV\n\n \u2018For they are as eager men to fight\n As a faulcon upon a prey;\n Alas! if ever they winne the vanward,\n There scapes noe man away.\u2019\n\n XXXV\n\n \u2018O peace thy talking,\u2019 said the King,\n \u2018They bee but English knaves,\n But shepards and millers both,\n And priest\u00e8s with their staves.\u2019\n\n XXXVI\n\n The King sent forth one of his heralds of armes\n To vew the Englishmen:\n \u2018Be of good cheere,\u2019 the herald said,\n \u2018For against one we be ten.\u2019\n\n XXXVII\n\n \u2018Who leads those lads?\u2019 said the King of Scotts,\n \u2018Thou herald, tell thou mee\u2019:\n The herald said, \u2018The Bishop of Durham\n Is captaine of that companye.\n\n XXXVIII\n\n \u2018For the Bishop hath spred the King\u2019s banner,\n And to battell he buskes him bowne\u2019;\n \u2018I sweare by St Andrewes bones,\u2019 saies the King,\n \u2018I\u2019le rapp that priest on the crowne!\u2019\n\n XXXIX\n\n The King look\u2019d towards litle Durham,\n And that hee well beheld,\n That the Earle Percy was well arm\u2019d,\n With his battell-axe entred the feild.\n\n XL\n\n The King look\u2019d again towards litle Durham,\n Four ancyents[1034] there saw he;\n There were two standards, six in a valley,\n He cold not see them with his eye.\n\n XLI\n\n My Lord of Yorke was one of them,\n My Lord of Carlile was the other,\n And my Lord Fitzwilliams,\n The Bishop came with the other.\n\n XLII\n\n The Bishop of Durham commanded his men,\n And shortlye he them bade,\n That never a man shold goe to fight\n Till he had served his God.\n\n XLIII\n\n Five hundred priests said mass that day\n In Durham in the field,\n And afterwards, as I hard say,\n They bare both spear and shield.\n\n XLIV\n\n The Bishop orders himselfe to fight,\n With his battell-axe in his hand;\n He said, \u2018This day now I will fight\n As long as I can stand!\u2019\n\n XLV\n\n \u2018And soe will I,\u2019 sayd my Lord of Carlile,\n \u2018In this faire morning gay\u2019;\n \u2018And soe will I,\u2019 said my Lord Fitzwilliams,\n \u2018For Mary, that mild may[1035].\u2019\n\n XLVI\n\n Our English archers bent their bowes\n Shortly and anon;\n They shot over the Scottish oast\n And scantly toucht a man.\n\n XLVII\n\n \u2018Hold downe your hands,\u2019 sayd the Bishop of Durham,\n \u2018My archers good and true\u2019!\n The second shoot\u00e8 that they shott,\n Full sore the Scots it rue.\n\n XLVIII\n\n The Bishop of Durham spoke on hie,\n That both partyes might heare:\n \u2018Be of good cheere, my merrymen all,\n They flyen and changen their cheere!\u2019\n\n XLIX\n\n But as they saidden, see they didden,\n They fell on heap\u00e8s hie;\n Our Englishmen laid on with their bowes,\n As fast as they might drie.\n\n L\n\n The King of Scotts in a study stood\n Amongst his companye;\n An arrow stoke him thoro\u2019 the nose,\n And thoro\u2019 his armorye.\n\n LI\n\n The King went to a marsh-side\n And light beside his steede;\n He lean\u00e8d him downe on his swordhilts,\n To let his nos\u00e8 bleede.\n\n LII\n\n There follow\u2019d him a yeaman of merry England,\n His name was John of Coplande:\n \u2018Yeeld thee, traytor!\u2019 saies Coplande then,\n \u2018Thy life lies in my hand.\u2019\n\n LIII\n\n \u2018How shold I yeeld me,\u2019 sayes the King,\n \u2018And thou art noe gentleman?\u2019--\n \u2018Noe, by my troth,\u2019 sayes Copland there,\n \u2018I am but a poore yeaman.\n\n LIV\n\n \u2018What art thou better then I, Sir King?\n Tell me if that thou can!\n What art thou better then I, Sir King,\n Now we be but man to man?\u2019\n\n LV\n\n The King smote angerly at Copland,\n Angerly in that stonde;\n Then Copland was a bold yeaman,\n And bore the King to the ground.\n\n LVI\n\n He sett the King on a palfrey,\n Himselfe upon a steede;\n He tooke him by the bridle-rayne,\n Towards London he can him lead.\n\n LVII\n\n And when to London that he came,\n The King from Ffrance was come home,\n And there unto the King of Scotts\n He sayd these words anon.--\n\n LVIII\n\n \u2018How like you my shepards and my millers?\n My priests with shaven crownes?\u2019--\n \u2018By my fayth, they are the sorest fighters\n That ever I mett on the ground.\n\n LIX\n\n \u2018There was never a yeaman in merry England\n But was worth a Scottish knight.\u2019--\n \u2018Ay, by my troth,\u2019 said King Edward, and laughe,\n \u2018For you fought all against the right.\u2019\n\n LX\n\n But now the prince of merry England,\n Worthilye under his sheelde,\n Hath taken captive the King of France,\n At Poytiers in the field.\n\n LXI\n\n The prince did present his father\n With the lovely King of France,\n And forward of his journey he is gone:\n God send us all good chance!\n\n LXII\n\n Sayd the King of Scots to the King of France,\n \u2018Well met, brother, too soone!\n Christ leeve that I had taken my way\n Unto the court of Roome!\u2019\n\n LXIII\n\n \u2018And soe wold I,\u2019 said the King of France,\n \u2018When I came over the streame,\n That I had taken my journey\n Unto Jerusalem!\u2019\n\n LXIV\n\n Thus ends the battell of fair Durham,\n In one morning of May;\n The battells of Cressey and of Poytiers,\n All within one monthes day.\n\n LXV\n\n Then was wealthe and welfare in merry England,\n Solaces, game, and glee,\n And every man loved other well,\n And the King loved good yeomanrye.\n\n LXVI\n\n But God that made the grasse to growe,\n And leaves on greenwoode tree,\n Now save and keepe our noble King,\n And maintaine good yeomanrye!\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1023] busk\u00e8d = dressed.\n\n[1024] bowne = ready.\n\n[1025] stounde = time.\n\n[1026] leeve = dear, pleasant.\n\n[1027] hansell = foretaste.\n\n[1028] Anguish = Angus.\n\n[1029] Hambleton = Hamilton.\n\n[1030] breeme = fierce.\n\n[1031] buske = addressed.\n\n[1032] bowne = ready.\n\n[1033] thoe = those.\n\n[1034] ancyents = ensigns.\n\n[1035] may = maiden.\n\n\n\n\n_127. The Battle of Otterburn_\n\n\n I\n\n It fell about the Lammas tide\n When husbands[1036] win their hay,\n The doughty Douglas bound him to ride\n In England to take a prey.\n\n II\n\n He has chosen the Graemes, and the Lindsays light,\n And the gallant Gordons gay;\n And the Earl of Fyfe withouten strife,\n He\u2019s bound him over Solw\u00e0y.\n\n III\n\n They come in over Ottercap Hill,\n So down by Rodeley Cragge;\n Upon Green Leyton they lighted down\n Styrande[1037] many a stagge.\n\n IV\n\n And they have brent[1038] the dales of Tyne,\n And harryed Bamborowe shire,\n And the Otter Dale they have brent it hale[1039]\n And left it a\u2019 on fire.\n\n V\n\n Then spake a berne[1040] upon the bent[1041],\n Of comfort that was not cold,\n And said, \u2018We have brent Northumberland,\n We have all wealth in hold.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Now we have harryed all Bamborowe shire,\n All the wealth in the world have we:\n I rede[1042] we ryde to Newcastell\n So still and stalworthlye.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n Upon the morrow, when it was day,\n The standards shone full bright;\n To Newcastell they took the way,\n And thither they came full right.\n\n VIII\n\n To Newcastell when that they came,\n The Douglas cry\u2019d on hyght:\n \u2018Harry Percy, an thou bidest within,\n Come to the field, and fight!--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018For we have brent Northumberland,\n Thy herytage good and right;\n And syne my lodging I have ta\u2019en,\n With my brand dubb\u2019d many a knight.\u2019\n\n X\n\n Sir Harry Percy came to the walls\n The Scottish host for to see,\n Sayd, \u2018An thou hast brent Northumberland,\n Full sore it rueth me.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018If thou hast haryed all Bamborowe shire,\n Thou hast done me great envye;\n For this trespasse thou hast me done\n The tone[1043] of us shall die.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Where shall I bide thee?\u2019 sayd the Douglas,\n \u2018Or where wilt thou come to me?\u2019--\n \u2018But gae ye up to Otterbourne,\n And wait there day\u00e8s three.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018The roe full rekeles[1044] there she rins,\n To make the game and glee;\n The falcon and the phesant both,\n To fend[1045] thy men and thee.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018There may\u2019st thou have thy wealth at will,\n Well lodg\u2019d thou there may\u2019st be:\n It shall not be long ere I come thee till[1046],\u2019\n Sayd Sir Harry Percy.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018There shall I bide thee,\u2019 sayd the Douglas,\n \u2018By the faith of my bodye.\u2019--\n \u2018There shall I come,\u2019 said Sir Harry Percy,\n \u2018My troth I plight to thee.\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n A pipe of wine over the wall,\n He gave them [to their pay[1047]],\n There he made the Douglas drinke,\n And all his host that day.\n\n XVII\n\n The Douglas turn\u2019d him homeward again,\n [And rode withouten stay];\n He pyght[1048] his standard at Otterbourne\n Upon a Wedensday.\n\n XVIII\n\n And syne he warned his men to go\n To choose their geldings grass;\n [And he that had no man to send]\n His own servant he was.\n\n XIX\n\n A Scottish knight hoved[1049] on the bent[1050]\n At watch, I dare well say,\n So was he ware of the noble Percy\n In the dawning of the day.\n\n XX\n\n He pryck\u2019d to his pavilion[1051] door\n As fast as he might run:\n \u2018Awaken, Douglas!\u2019 cried the knight,\n \u2018For his sake that sits in throne!\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018Awaken, Douglas!\u2019 cried the knight,\n \u2018For thou mayst wake with wynne[1052]!\n Yonder have I spied the proud Percy,\n And seven standards with him.\u2019\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018Now by my troth,\u2019 the Douglas sayd,\n \u2018It is but a fayn\u00e8d[1053] tale!\n He durst not look on my broad banner\n [Were all England in] hail!\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018Was I not yesterday at Newcastell\n That stands so fair on Tyne?\n For all the men the Percy had\n He could not gar me to dine[1054].\u2019\n\n XXIV\n\n He stepp\u2019d out at his pavilion-door\n To look an it were lease[1055]:\n \u2018Array you, lordings, one and all!\n For here begins no peace.\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018The Earl of Menteith, thou art my eme[1056],\n The vaward[1057] I give to thee:\n The Earl of Huntley, cante[1058] and keen,\n Take him to go with thee.\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018The Lord of Buchan, in armure bright,\n On the other side he shall be;\n Lord Johnstone and Lord Maxwell\n They two shall go with me.\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018Swynton, fair fall upon your pride!\n To battle make you bowne[1059].--\n Sir Davy Scott, Sir Walter Steward,\n Sir John of Agerstone!\u2019\n\n XXVIII\n\n The Percy came before his host,\n He was ever a gentil knight:\n Upon the Douglas loud can he cry\n \u2018I will hold that I have hyght[1060].\u2019\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018For thou hast brent Northumberland,\n And done me great envye,\n For this trespasse thou hast me done\n The tone of us shall die.\u2019\n\n XXX\n\n The Douglas answer\u2019d him again\n With great words upon hie,\n And sayd, \u2018I have twenty against thy one:\n Behold, and thou mayst see!\u2019\n\n XXXI\n\n With that the Percy was griev\u00e8d sore,\n Forsooth as I you say:\n He lighted down upon his foot\n And schoote[1061] his horse away.\n\n XXXII\n\n Every man saw that he did so,\n That ryal was ever in rowghte[1062]:\n Every man schoote his horse him fro\n And lighted him round about.\n\n XXXIII\n\n Sir Harry Percy took the field\n Even thus, as I you say;\n Jesus Christe in hevyn on height\n Did help him well that day.\n\n XXXIV\n\n But nine thousand, there was no more--\n The chronicle will not layne[1063]--\n Forty thousand of Scots and four\n That day fought them again[1064].\n\n XXXV\n\n But when the battel began to join,\n In haste there came a knight;\n And letters fair forth hath he ta\u2019en,\n And thus he sayd full right:\n\n XXXVI\n\n \u2018My lord your father greets you well,\n With many a noble knight;\n He doth desire you now to bide,\n That he may see this fight.\n\n XXXVII\n\n \u2018The Baron of Graystoke is out of the west\n With a noble companye:\n All they lodge at your father\u2019s this night,\n And the battel fayn would they see.\u2019\n\n XXXVIII\n\n \u2018For Jesus\u2019 love,\u2019 sayd Sir Harry Percy,\n \u2018That died for you and me,\n Wend to my lord my father agayn,\n Say thou saw me not with thee.\n\n XXXIX\n\n \u2018My troth is plight to yon Scottish knight,\n --It nede\u2019s me not to layne--\n That I should bide him upon this bent,\n And I have his troth agayn.\n\n XL\n\n \u2018And if that I wend off this growende[1065],\n Forsooth, unfoughten away,\n He would call me but a coward knight\n In his land another day.\n\n XLI\n\n \u2018Yet had I liefer be rynde[1066] and rent,\n --By Mary, that mickle may[1067]!--\n Than ever my manhood be reproved\n With a Scot another day.\n\n XLII\n\n \u2018Wherefore shoot, archers, for my sake!\n And let sharp arrows flee.\n Minstrels, play up for your waryson[1068]!\n And well quit it shall be.\n\n XLIII\n\n \u2018Every man thynke on his true-love,\n And mark him to the Trinitye:\n For unto God I make mine avowe\n This day will I not flee.\u2019\n\n XLIV\n\n The blodye herte in the Douglas arms\n His standard stood on hie,\n That every man might full wel knowe;\n Bysyde stood starr\u00e8s three.\n\n XLV\n\n The white lion on the English part,\n Forsooth as I you sayn,\n The lucettes[1069] and the cressants both\n The Scot fought them again.\n\n XLVI\n\n Upon Seynt Andrewe loud can they crye,\n And thrice they showt on hyght,\n Syne mark\u2019d them on our English men,\n As I have told you right.\n\n XLVII\n\n Seynt George the bryght, Our Ladye\u2019s knyght,\n To name they were full fayne;\n Our English men they cry\u2019d on hyght,\n And thrice they shot agayne.\n\n XLVIII\n\n With that sharp arrows began to flee,\n I tell you in certayne:\n Men of arms began to joyne,\n Many a doughty man was slayne.\n\n XLIX\n\n The Percy and the Douglas met\n That either of other was fayne;\n They swapp\u2019d[1070] together while they swet[1071]\n With swords of fyne Collayne[1072]:\n\n L\n\n Until the blood from their bassonets[1073] ran\n As the roke[1074] doth in the rayne;\n \u2018Yield thou to me,\u2019 sayd the Douglas,\n \u2018Or elles thou shall be slayne.\n\n LI\n\n \u2018For I see by thy bryght bassonet\n Thou art some man of myght:\n And so I do by thy burnysh\u2019d brand,\n Thou\u2019rt an earl or elles a knyght.\u2019\n\n LII\n\n \u2018By my good faith,\u2019 said the noble Percye,\n \u2018Now hast thou rede full ryght;\n Yet will I never yield me to thee,\n While I may stand and fyght.\u2019\n\n LIII\n\n They swapp\u2019d together, while that they swet,\n With sword\u00e8s sharp and long;\n Each on other so fast they bette[1075],\n Their helms came in pieces down.\n\n LIV\n\n The Percy was a man of strength,\n I tell you in this stounde[1076]:\n He smote the Douglas at the sword\u2019s length\n That he fell to the grounde.\n\n LV\n\n The Douglas call\u2019d to his little foot-page,\n And sayd, \u2018Run speedilye,\n And fetch my ain dear sister\u2019s son,\n Sir Hugh Montgomery.\n\n LVI\n\n \u2018My nephew good,\u2019 the Douglas sayd,\n \u2018What recks the death of ane?\n Last night I dream\u2019d a dreary dream,\n And I ken the day\u2019s thy ain.\n\n LVII\n\n \u2018My wound is deep: I am fayn to sleep,\n Take thou the vaward of me,\n And hide me by the bracken bush\n Grows on yon lilye-lee.\u2019\n\n LVIII\n\n He has lifted up that noble lord\n With the saut tears in his e\u2019e;\n He has hidden him in the bracken bush\n That his merry men might not see.\n\n LIX\n\n The standards stood still on eke side;\n With many a grievous groan\n They fought that day, and all the night;\n Many a doughtye man was slone.\n\n LX\n\n The morn was clear, the day drew nie,\n --Yet stiffly in stowre[1077] they stood;\n Echone hewing another while they might drie,\n Till aye ran down the blood.\n\n LXI\n\n The Percy and Montgomery met\n That either of other was fayn:\n They swapp\u00e8d swords, and they two met\n Till the blood ran down between.\n\n LXII\n\n \u2018Now yield thee, yield thee, Percy,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018Or I vow I\u2019le lay thee low!\u2019\n \u2018To whom shall I yield?\u2019 said Earl Percy,\n \u2018Now I see it maun be so.\u2019--\n\n LXIII\n\n \u2018Thou shalt not yield to lord nor loun,\n Nor yet shalt thou to me;\n But yield thee to the bracken bush\n Grows on yon lilye-lee.\u2019--\n\n LXIV\n\n \u2018I winna yield to a bracken bush,\n Nor yet I will to a brere[1078];\n But I would yield to Earl Douglas,\n Or Montgomery if he was here.\u2019\n\n LXV\n\n As soon as he knew Montgomery,\n He stuck his sword\u2019s point in ground;\n The Montgomery was a courteous knight,\n And quickly took him by the hand.\n\n LXVI\n\n There was slayne upon the Scott\u00e8s\u2019 side,\n For sooth and certaynlye,\n Sir James a Douglas there was slayne,\n That day that he cou\u2019d dye.\n\n LXVII\n\n The Earl of Menteith he was slayne,\n And gryselye[1079] groan\u2019d on the groun\u2019;\n Sir Davy Scott, Sir Walter Steward,\n Sir John of Agerstone.\n\n LXVIII\n\n Sir Charl\u00e8s Murray in that place\n That never a foot would flee;\n Sir Hew Maxwell, a lord he was,\n With the Douglas did he dee.\n\n LXIX\n\n There was slayne upon the Scott\u00e8s\u2019 side\n For sooth as I you say,\n Of four and fifty thousand Scottes\n Went but eighteen away.\n\n LXX\n\n There was slayne upon the English side\n For sooth and certaynlye,\n A gentle Knight, Sir John Fitzhughe,\n It was the more pitye.\n\n LXXI\n\n Sir James Hardbotell there was slayne,\n For him their heartes were sore;\n The gentle Lovell there was slayne,\n That the Percy\u2019s standard bore.\n\n LXXII\n\n There was slayne upon the English part\n For sooth as I you say,\n Of nin\u00e8 thousand English men\n Five hundred came away.\n\n LXXIII\n\n The others slayne were in the field;\n Christ keep their souls from woe!\n Seeing there was so few\u00e8 friends\n Against so many a foe.\n\n LXXIV\n\n Then on the morn they made them bieres\n Of birch and hazell gray:\n Many a widow with weeping teares\n Their makes[1080] they fette[1081] away.\n\n LXXV\n\n This fray was fought at Otterbourne,\n Between the night and the day;\n Earl Douglas was buried at the bracken bush,\n And the Percy led captive away.\n\n LXXVI\n\n Now let us all for the Percy pray\n To Jesu most of might,\n To bring his soul to the bliss of heaven,\n For he was a gentle knight.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1036] husbands = husbandmen.\n\n[1037] Styrande = stirring, rousing.\n\n[1038] brent = burned.\n\n[1039] hale = whole.\n\n[1040] berne = fighting-man.\n\n[1041] bent = coarse grass.\n\n[1042] rede = counsel.\n\n[1043] tone = one of two.\n\n[1044] rekeles = reckless, wild.\n\n[1045] fend = provide for.\n\n[1046] till = to.\n\n[1047] pay = satisfaction.\n\n[1048] pyght = pitched.\n\n[1049] hoved = abode.\n\n[1050] bent = grass.\n\n[1051] pavilion = tent.\n\n[1052] wynne = joy.\n\n[1053] fayn\u00e8d = feigned.\n\n[1054] gar me to dine = give me my fill, entertain me (at fighting).\n\n[1055] lease = leasing, falsehood.\n\n[1056] eme = uncle.\n\n[1057] vaward = vanguard.\n\n[1058] cante = spirited.\n\n[1059] bowne = ready.\n\n[1060] that I have hyght = what I have promised.\n\n[1061] schoote = thrust, sent quickly.\n\n[1062] ryal in rowghte = royal in rout, a king amongst men.\n\n[1063] layne = conceal.\n\n[1064] them again = against them.\n\n[1065] growende = ground.\n\n[1066] rynde = riven, or flayed.\n\n[1067] mickle may = mighty maid.\n\n[1068] waryson = reward.\n\n[1069] lucettes = luces, pikes (heraldic).\n\n[1070] swapp\u2019d = smote.\n\n[1071] swet = sweated.\n\n[1072] Collayne = Cologne steel.\n\n[1073] bassonets = steel skull-caps.\n\n[1074] roke = reek, mist.\n\n[1075] bette = beat.\n\n[1076] stounde = time.\n\n[1077] stowre = press of battle.\n\n[1078] brere = briar.\n\n[1079] gryselye = in a grisly manner, terribly.\n\n[1080] makes = mates.\n\n[1081] fette = fetched.\n\n\n\n\n_128. Chevy Chase_\n\n\n _Fytte I_\n\n I\n\n The Percy out of Northumberland,\n An avow to God made he\n That he would hunt in the mountains\n Of Cheviot within days three,\n In the maugre[1082] of doughty Douglas,\n And all that e\u2019er with him be.\n\n II\n\n The fattest harts in all Cheviot\n He would kill and carry away.--\n \u2018By my faith,\u2019 said the doughty Douglas again,\n \u2018I will let[1083] that hunting if I may!\u2019\n\n III\n\n Then the Percy out of Banborowe came,\n With him a mighty meinye[1084],\n With fifteen hundred archers bold\n Chosen out of shir\u00e8s three.\n\n IV\n\n This began on a Monday at morn,\n In Cheviot the hills so hye;\n The child may rue that is unborn,\n It was the more pitye.\n\n V\n\n The drivers through the wood\u00e8s went\n [All] for to raise the deer,\n Bowmen bicker\u2019d[1085] upon the bent[1086]\n With their broad arrows clear.\n\n VI\n\n Then the wild[1087] thoro\u2019 the wood\u00e8s went\n On every sid\u00e8 shear[1088];\n Greyhounds thoro\u2019 the grev\u00e8s[1089] glent[1090]\n For to kill their deer.\n\n VII\n\n This began on Cheviot the hills abune\n Early on a Monenday;\n By that it drew to the hour of noon\n A hundred fat harts dead there lay.\n\n VIII\n\n They blew a mort[1091] upon the bent,\n They \u2019sembled on sid\u00e8s shear;\n To the quarry[1092] then the Percy went\n To the brittling[1093] of the deer.\n\n IX\n\n He said, \u2018It was the Douglas\u2019 promise\n This day to meet me here;\n But I wist he would fail, verament!\u2019\n --A great oath the Percy sware.\n\n X\n\n At the last a squire of Northumberland\n Look\u00e8d at his hand full nigh;\n He was ware o\u2019 the doughty Douglas coming,\n With him a great meinye.\n\n XI\n\n Both with spe\u00e4r, bill and brand,--\n \u2019Twas a mighty sight to see;\n Hardier men both of heart nor hand\n Were not in Christiant\u00e8.\n\n XII\n\n They were twenty hundred spearmen good,\n Withouten any fail:\n They were born along by the water o\u2019 Tweed\n I\u2019 the boun\u2019s[1094] o\u2019 Teviotdale.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018Leave off the brittling of deer,\u2019 he said;\n \u2018To your bows look ye take good heed,\n For sith ye were on your mothers born\n Had ye never so mickle need.\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n The doughty Douglas on a steed\n Rode all his men beforn,\n His armour glitter\u2019d as did a gleed[1095],\n Bolder bairn[1096] was never born.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Tell me whose men ye are,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018Or whose men that ye be;\n Who gave you leave in this Cheviot chase\n In the spite of mine and of me?\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n The first man that him answer made\n It was the good Lord Percye:\n \u2018We will not tell thee whose men we are,\n Nor whose men that we be;\n But we will hunt here in this chase\n In the spite of thine and of thee.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018The fattest harts in all Cheviot\n We have kill\u2019d, to carry away.\u2019--\n \u2018By my troth,\u2019 said the doughty Douglas again,\n \u2018The one of us dies this day.\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018[Yet] to kill all\u00e8 these guiltless men\n Alas, it were great pitye!\n But, Percy, thou art a lord of land,\n I an earl in my countrye--\n Let all our men on a party[1097] stand,\n And do battle of thee and me!\u2019\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018Christ\u2019s curse on his crown,\u2019 said the lord Percye,\n \u2018Whosoever thereto says nay!\n By my troth, thou doughty Douglas,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018Thou shalt never see that day--\n\n XX\n\n --\u2018Neither in England, Scotland nor France,\n Nor for no man of woman born,\n But, that (and fortune be my chance)\n I dare meet him, one man for one.\u2019\n\n XXI\n\n Then bespake a squire of Northumberland,\n Richard Witherington was his name;\n \u2018It shall never be told in South England\n To King Harry the Fourth for shame.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018I wot you bin great lord\u00e8s two,\n I am a poor squire of land;\n [Yet] I\u2019ll ne\u2019er see my captain fight on a field\n And stand myself and look on.\n But while that I may my weapon wield\n I\u2019ll not fail, both heart and hand.\u2019\n\n XXIII\n\n That day, that day, that dreadful day!--\n The first fytte[1098] here I find:\n An you\u2019ll hear any more o\u2019 the hunting of Cheviot,\n Yet there is more behind.\n\n\n _Fytte II_\n\n XXIV\n\n The Englishmen had their bows y-bent,\n Their hearts were good enow;\n The first of arrows that they shot off\n Seven score spearmen they slew.\n\n XXV\n\n Yet bides the Earl Douglas upon the bent,\n A captain good enoghe;\n And that was seen\u00e8 verament,\n For he wrought them both woe and wouche[1099].\n\n XXVI\n\n The Douglas parted his host in three,\n Like a chief chieftain of pride;\n With sur\u00e8 spears of mighty tree[1100]\n They came in on every side;\n\n XXVII\n\n --Through\u00e8 our English archery\n Gave many a woond full wide;\n Many a doughty[1101] they gar\u2019d to dye,\n Which gain\u00e8d them no pride.\n\n XXVIII\n\n The Englishmen let their bow\u00e8s be,\n And pull\u2019d out brands that were bright;\n It was a heavy sight to see\n Bright swords on basnets[1102] light.\n\n XXIX\n\n Thoro\u2019 rich mail and manoplie[1103]\n Many stern[1104] they struck down straight;\n Many a freyke[1105] that was full free\n There under foot did light.\n\n XXX\n\n At last the Douglas and the Percy met,\n Like to captains of might and of main;\n They swapt[1106] together till they both swat[1107]\n With sword\u00e8s of fine Milan.\n\n XXXI\n\n These worthy freyk\u00e8s for to fight\n Thereto they were full fain,\n Till the blood out of their basnets sprent[1108]\n As ever did hail or rain.\n\n XXXII\n\n \u2018Yield thee, Percy,\u2019 said the Douglas,\n \u2018And i\u2019 faith I shall thee bring\n Where thou shalt have an Earl\u2019s wages\n Of Jamie our Scottish king.\n\n XXXIII\n\n \u2018Thou shalt\u00e8 have thy ransom free,\n --I hight[1109] thee here this thing;\n For the manfullest man thou art that e\u2019er\n I conquer\u2019d in field fighting.\u2019\n\n XXXIV\n\n But \u2018Nay\u2019, then said the lord Percye,\n \u2018I told it thee beforn\n That I would never yielded be\n To man of a woman born.\u2019\n\n XXXV\n\n With that an arrow came hastily\n Forth of a mighty wane[1110];\n And it hath stricken the Earl Douglas\n In at the breast\u00e8-bane.\n\n XXXVI\n\n Thoro\u2019 liver and lung\u00e8s both\n The sharp arr\u00f2w is gone,\n That never after in his life-days\n He spake mo words but one:\n \u2019Twas, \u2018Fight ye, my merry men, whiles ye may,\n For my life-days bin gone!\u2019\n\n XXXVII\n\n The Percy lean\u00e8d on his brand\n And saw the Douglas dee;\n He took the dead man by the hand,\n And said, \u2018Woe is me for thee!\n\n XXXVIII\n\n \u2018To have sav\u2019d thy life I\u2019d have parted with\n My lands for year\u00e8s three,\n For a better man of heart nor of hand\n Was not in the north countrye.\u2019\n\n XXXIX\n\n [All this there saw] a Scottish knight,\n Sir Hugh the Montgomerye:\n When he saw Douglas to the death was dight[1111],\n Through a hundred archerye\n He never stint[1112] nor he never blint[1113]\n Till he came to the lord Percye.\n\n XL\n\n He set upon the lord Perc\u1ef3\n A dint[1114] that was full sore;\n With a sur\u00e8 spear of a mighty tree\n Thro\u2019 the body him he bore,\n O\u2019 the t\u2019other side that a man might see\n A large cloth-yard and more.\n\n XLI\n\n An archer of Northumberland\n Saw slain was the lord Percye:\n He bare a bent bow in his hand,\n Was made of a trusty tree.\n\n XLII\n\n An arrow that was a cloth-yard long\n To the hard steel hal\u00e8d[1115] he,\n A dint that was both sad and sair\n He set on Montgomerye.\n\n XLIII\n\n The dint it was both sad and sair\n That he on Montgomerye set;\n The swan-feathers that his arrow bare\n With his heart-blood they were wet.\n\n XLIV\n\n There was never a freyk\u00e8 one foot would flee,\n But still in stoure[1116] did stand;\n Hewing on each other, while they might dree[1117],\n With many a baleful brand.\n\n XLV\n\n This battle began in Cheviot\n An hour before the noon,\n And when the even-song bell was rung\n The battle was not half done.\n\n XLVI\n\n They took [their stand] on either hand\n By the [lee][1118] light of the moon;\n Many had no strength for to stand\n In Cheviot the hills abune.\n\n XLVII\n\n Of fifteen hundred archers of England\n Went away but seventy-and-three;\n Of twenty hundred spearmen of Scotland\n But even five-and-fift\u1ef3.\n\n XLVIII\n\n There was slain with the bold Percye\n Sir John of Agerstoune,\n Sir Roger, the hend\u00e8[1119] Hartley,\n Sir William, the bold Herone.\n\n XLIX\n\n Sir George, the worthy Loumlye,\n A knight of great renown,\n Sir Ralph, the rich\u00e8 Rabye,\n With dints were beaten down.\n\n L\n\n For Witherington my heart was woe\n That ever he slain should be:\n For when both his legs were hewn in two\n Yet he kneel\u2019d and fought on his knee.\n\n LI\n\n There was slayn with the doughty Douglas\n Sir Hugh the Montgomerye,\n Sir Davy Lambwell, that worthy was,\n His sister\u2019s son was he.\n\n LII\n\n Sir Charles a Murray in that place,\n That never a foot would flee:\n Sir Hew Maxwell, a lord he was,\n With the Douglas did he dee.\n\n LIII\n\n So on the morrow they made them biers\n Of birch and hazel so gray;\n Many widows with weeping tears\n Came to fetch their makes[1120] away.\n\n LIV\n\n Teviotdale may carp[1121] of care,\n Northumberland may make moan,\n For two such captains as slain were there\n On the March-parts shall never be none.\n\n LV\n\n Word is come to Edinboro\u2019,\n To Jamie the Scottish King,\n Earl Douglas, lieutenant of the Marches,\n Lay slain Cheviot within.\n\n LVI\n\n His hands the King did weal[1122] and wring,\n Said, \u2018Alas! and woe is me!\n Such another captain Scotland within\n I\u2019 faith shall never be!\u2019\n\n LVII\n\n Word is come to lovely London,\n To the fourth Harry, our King,\n Lord Percy, lieutenant of the Marches,\n Lay slain Cheviot within.\n\n LVIII\n\n \u2018God have mercy on his soul,\u2019 said King Harry,\n \u2018Good Lord, if thy will it be!\n I\u2019ve a hundred captains in England,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018As good as ever was he:\n But Percy, an I brook[1123] my life,\n Thy death well quit shall be.\u2019\n\n LIX\n\n And as our King made his avow\n Like a noble prince of renown,\n For Percy he did it well perform\n After, on Homble-down;\n\n LX\n\n Where six-and-thirty Scottish knights\n On a day were beaten down;\n Glendale[1124] glitter\u2019d on their armour bright\n Over castle, tower and town.\n\n LXI\n\n This was the Hunting of the Cheviot;\n That e\u2019er began this spurn[1125]!\n Old men, that knowen the ground well,\n Call it of Otterburn.\n\n LXII\n\n There was never a time on the Marche-part\u00e8s\n Since the Douglas and Percy met,\n But \u2019tis marvel an the red blood run not\n As the reane[1126] does in the street.\n\n LXIII\n\n Jesu Christ! our bal\u00e8s[1127] bete[1128],\n And to the bliss us bring!\n This was the Hunting of the Cheviot:\n God send us all good end\u00ecng!\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1082] maugre = despite.\n\n[1083] let = hinder.\n\n[1084] meinye = company.\n\n[1085] bicker\u2019d = attacked, skirmished.\n\n[1086] bent = rough grass.\n\n[1087] wild = game, deer.\n\n[1088] shear = several.\n\n[1089] grev\u00e8s = groves.\n\n[1090] glent = glanced, darted.\n\n[1091] mort = death of the deer.\n\n[1092] quarry = dead game.\n\n[1093] brittling = cutting up.\n\n[1094] boun\u2019s = boundaries.\n\n[1095] gleed = live coal.\n\n[1096] bairn = fighting man.\n\n[1097] on a party = apart.\n\n[1098] fytte = division of a ballad.\n\n[1099] wouche = evil.\n\n[1100] tree = timber.\n\n[1101] doughty = doughty man.\n\n[1102] basnets = steel caps.\n\n[1103] manoplie = long gauntlet.\n\n[1104] stern = stern men, warriors.\n\n[1105] freyke = bold fellow.\n\n[1106] swapt = smote.\n\n[1107] swat = sweated.\n\n[1108] sprent = spurted.\n\n[1109] hight = promise.\n\n[1110] wane = host, multitude.\n\n[1111] dight = done, doomed.\n\n[1112] stint = stayed.\n\n[1113] blint = stopped.\n\n[1114] dint = stroke, lunge.\n\n[1115] hal\u00e8d = pulled.\n\n[1116] stoure = press of battle.\n\n[1117] dree = endure.\n\n[1118] lee = fair, bright.\n\n[1119] hend\u00e8 = courteous, gentle.\n\n[1120] makes = mates.\n\n[1121] carp = talk.\n\n[1122] weal = clench.\n\n[1123] brook = retain.\n\n[1124] Glendale = one of the six \u2018wards\u2019 of Northumberland. Homildon\nwas here.\n\n[1125] spurn = fray(?).\n\n[1126] reane = gutter.\n\n[1127] bal\u00e8s = woes.\n\n[1128] bete = better, relieve.\n\n\n\n\n_129. Northumberland Betrayed by Douglas_\n\n\n I\n\n Now list and lithe, you gentlemen,\n And I\u2019st tell you the veretye,\n How they have dealt with a banish\u2019d man,\n Driven out of his owne countrye.\n\n II\n\n When as he came on Scottish ground,\n As woe and wonder be them amonge!\n Full much was there traitorye\n They wrought the Erle of Northumberland.\n\n III\n\n When they were at the supper set,\n Before many goodly gentlemen,\n They fell a flouting and mocking both,\n And said to the Erle of Northumberland:\n\n IV\n\n \u2018What makes you be soe sad, my lord,\n And in your mind soe sorrowfullye?\n In the north to-morrow there is a shooting,\n And thither thou\u2019st goe, my Lord Percye.\n\n V\n\n \u2018The buttes are sett, and the shooting is made,\n And there is like to be great royaltye,\n And I am sworne into my bill[1129]\n Thither to bring my Lord Percye.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n \u2018I\u2019le give thee my hand, Douglas,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018And by the faith in my bodye,\n If that thou wilt ryde to the worldis end,\n Then I\u2019le ryde in thy companye.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n And then bespake the good ladye,\n Mary a Douglas was her name:\n \u2018You shall byde here, good English lord;\n My brother is a traitorous man.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018He is a traitor stout and stronge,\n As I\u2019st tell you the veretye;\n For he hath ta\u2019en \u2019liverance of the Erle,\n And into England he will \u2018liver thee.\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Now hold thy tongue, thou goodly ladye,\n Now all this talking let a-bee;\n For all the gold that\u2019s in Lough Leven,\n William wo\u2019ld not \u2019liver mee.\n\n X\n\n \u2018It wo\u2019ld breake truce betweene England and Scottland,\n And freinds againe they wo\u2019ld never bee,\n If he sho\u2019ld \u2018liver a banisht erle,\n Was driven out of his owne countrye.\u2019--\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Hold your tounge, my lord,\u2019 she sayes,\n \u2018There is much falsehood them amonge;\n Soone they will part them freinds againe,\n When you are dead, then they are done.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018If you will give me any trust, my lord,\n I\u2019le tell you how you best may bee;\n You\u2019st let my brother ryde his wayes,\n And tell those English lords, trulye,\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018How that you cannot with them ryde,\n Because you are in an isle of the sea;\n Then, ere my brother come againe,\n To Edenborrow castle I\u2019le carry thee.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018I\u2019le \u2019liver you unto the Lord Hume,\n And you know a trew Scothe lord is hee,\n For he hath lost both land and goods\n In ayding of your good bodye.\u2019--\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Marry, I am woe, woman,\u2019 he sayes,\n \u2018That any friend fares worse for me;\n For where one saith it is a true tale,\n Then two will say it is a lee.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018When that I was at home in my realme,\n Amonge my tennants all trulye,\n In my time of losse, wherin my need stoode,\n They came to ayd me honestlye.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018Therefore I left a many a child fatherlese,\n And many a widdow to looke wanne;\n Therefore do thou blame nothing, ladye,\n But the woeffull warres which I began.\u2019--\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018If you will give me noe trust, my lord,\n Nor noe credence you will give mee,\n An you\u2019le come hither to my right hand,\n Indeed, my lord, I\u2019le let you see,\u2019--\n\n XIX\n\n Says, \u2018I never loved noe witchcraft,\n Nor never dealt with treacherye,\n But evermore held the hye way;\n Alas, that may be seene by mee!\u2019--\n\n XX\n\n \u2018If you will not come your selfe, my lord,\n You\u2019le lett your chamberlaine goe with me,\n Three words that I may to him speake,\n And soone he shall come againe to thee.\u2019\n\n XXI\n\n When James Swynard came that lady before,\n She let him see thro\u2019 the weme[1130] of her ring\n How many there was of English lords\n To wayte[1131] there for his master and him.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018But who beene yonder, my good ladye,\n That walkes soe royallye on yond greene?\u2019--\n \u2018Yond is Lord Hunsden, Jamye,\u2019 she sayd,\n \u2018Alas, he\u2019le doe you both tree and teene[1132]!\u2019--\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018And who beene yonder, thou gay ladye,\n That walkes soe royallye him beside?\u2019--\n \u2018Yond\u2019s Sir William Drurye, Jamye,\u2019 she sayd,\n \u2018And a keene captain he is, and tryde.\u2019--\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018How many miles is\u2019t, thou good ladye,\n Betwixt yond English lord and mee?\u2019--\n \u2018Marry, thrice fifty mile, Jamye,\u2019 she sayd,\n \u2018And even to sayle and by the sea.\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018I never was on English ground,\n Nor never see it with mine eye,\n But as my wit and wisedome serves,\n And as the booke it telleth mee.\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018My mother, she was a witch woman,\n And part of it she learn\u00e8d mee;\n She wo\u2019ld let me see out of Lough Leven\n What they dyd in London citye.\u2019--\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018But who is yond, thou good ladye,\n Comes yonder with an osterne[1133] face?\u2019\n \u2018Yond\u2019s Sir John Forster, Jamye,\u2019 she sayd;\n \u2018Alas! he\u2019ll do ye sore disgrace.\u2019\n\n XXVIII\n\n He pulled his hat downe over his eyes,\n And, Lord, he wept soe tenderlye!\n He is gone unto his master againe,\n And even to tell him the veretye.\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018Now hast thou beene with Mary,\u2019 he sayd,\n \u2018Even as thy tounge will tell to mee;\n But if thou trust any woman\u2019s words,\n Thou must refraine good companye.\u2019\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018It is noe words, my lord,\u2019 he sayes;\n \u2018Yonder the men she lets me see,\n How many English lords there is\n Is wayting there for you and mee.\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018Yonder I see the Lord Hunsden,\n And he and you is of third degree[1134];\n A greater enemye, indeed, my Lord,\n In England never a one have yee.\u2019--\n\n XXXII\n\n \u2018And I have beene in Lough Leven\n The most part of these yeer\u00e8s three:\n Yet had I never noe out-rake[1135],\n Nor good gam\u00e8s that I co\u2019ld see.\n\n XXXIII\n\n \u2018And I am thus bidden to yonder shooting\n By William Douglas all trulye;\n Therfore speake never a word of thy mouth\n That thou think\u00e8s will hinder me.\u2019\n\n XXXIV\n\n Then he writhe the gold ring of his fingar\n And gave it to that gay ladye;\n Sayes, \u2018That was a legacye left unto mee\n In Harley woods where I co\u2019ld bee.\u2019--\n\n XXXV\n\n \u2018Then ffarewell hart, and farewell hand,\n And ffarwell all good companye!\n That woman shall never beare a sonne\n Shall know soe much of your privitye.\u2019--\n\n XXXVI\n\n \u2018Now hold thy tongue, ladye,\u2019 he sayde,\n \u2018And make not all this dole for me,\n For I may well drinke, but I\u2019st never eate,\n Till ance againe in Lough Leven I bee.\u2019\n\n XXXVII\n\n He tooke his boate at the Lough Leven,\n For to sayle now over the sea,\n And he hath cast up a silver wand,\n Says, \u2018Fare thou well, my good ladye!\u2019\n The ladye looked owre her left sholder;\n In a dead swoone there down fell she.\n\n XXXVIII\n\n \u2018Goe backe againe, Douglas!\u2019 he sayd,\n \u2018And I will goe in thy companye;\n For sudden sicknesse yonder lady has tane,\n And ever, alas, she will but dye!\n\n XXXIX\n\n \u2018If ought come to yonder ladye but good,\n Then blam\u00e8d sore that I shall bee,\n Because a banish\u2019d man I am,\n And driven out of my owne countrye.\u2019--\n\n XL\n\n \u2018Come on, come on, my lord,\u2019 he sayes,\n \u2018And all such talking let a-bee;\n There\u2019s ladyes enow left in Lough Leven\n For to cheere yonder gay ladye.\u2019\n\n XLI\n\n \u2018An you will not goe your selfe, my lord,\n You will lett my chamberlaine go with mee;\n We shall now take our boate againe,\n And soone wee shall overtake thee.\u2019--\n\n XLII\n\n \u2018Come on, come on, my lord,\u2019 he sayes,\n \u2018And all this talking now let a-bee;\n For my sister is craftye enoughe\n For to beguile thousands such as you and mee.\u2019\n\n XLIII\n\n When they had sayl\u00e8d fifty myle,\n Now fifty myle upon the sea,\n Hee asked, \u2018How ffarr is it to that shooting\n That William Douglas promised me?\u2019--\n\n XLIV\n\n \u2018Now faire words mak\u00e8s fool\u00e8s faine,\n And that may be seene by thy master and thee;\n For happen you\u2019ll think it soone enoughe\n Whenever you that shooting see.\u2019\n\n XLV\n\n Jamye pulled his hat now over his browe,\n I wot the teares fell in his e\u2019e;\n And he is to his master againe,\n And for to tell him the veretye.\n\n XLVI\n\n \u2018He says fayre words makes fool\u00e8s faine,\n And that may be seene by you and mee,\n For happen we\u2019ll thinke it soone enoughe\n Whenever we that shooting see.\u2019\n\n XLVII\n\n \u2018Hold upp thy head, Jamye,\u2019 the Erle sayd,\n \u2018And never let thy hart fayle thee;\n He did it but to prove thee with,\n And see how thow wo\u2019ld take with death trulye.\u2019\n\n XLVIII\n\n When they had sayl\u2019d other fifty mile,\n Other fifty mile upon the sea,\n Lord Percye called to him, himselfe,\n Sayd, \u2018Douglas, what wilt thou doe with mee?\u2019\n\n XLIX\n\n \u2018Looke that your brydle be wight[1136], my lord,\n That you may goe as a shipp at sea;\n Looke that your spurres be bright and sharpe,\n That you may pricke her while she\u2019le awaye.\u2019\n\n L\n\n \u2018What needeth this, Douglas,\u2019 he sayth,\n \u2018That thou needest to fflout\u00e8 mee?\n For I was counted a horsseman good\n Before that ever I met with thee.\n\n LI\n\n \u2018A ffals\u00e8 Hector hath my horsse,\n And ever an evill death may hee dye!\n And Willye Armestronge hath my spurres\n And all the geere belongs to mee.\u2019\n\n LII\n\n When they had sayled other fifty mile,\n Other fifty mile upon the sea,\n They landed low by Berwicke-side;\n [Soe Douglas betray\u2019d the] Lord Percye.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1129] into my bill = on paper, in writing.\n\n[1130] weme = inward.\n\n[1131] wayte = wait in ambush.\n\n[1132] tree and teene = injury and grief.\n\n[1133] osterne = austere.\n\n[1134] of third degree = third cousins.\n\n[1135] out-rake = holiday.\n\n[1136] wight = strong.\n\n\n\n\n_130. Sir Andrew Barton_\n\n\n I\n\n As it befel in midsummer-time,\n When birds singe sweetlye on every tree,\n Our noble king, King Henry the Eighth,\n Over the river of Thames pass\u2019d he.\n\n II\n\n He was no sooner over the river,\n Downe in a forrest to take the ayre,\n But eighty merchants of London citye\n Came kneeling before King Henry there.\n\n III\n\n \u2018O ye are welcome, rich merch\u00e0nts,\n Good saylers, welcome unto me!\u2019\n They swore by the rood they were saylers good,\n But rich merch\u00e0nts they co\u2019ld not be.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018To France nor Flanders dare we not passe,\n Nor Bourdeaux voyage we dare not fare,\n All for a false robber that lyes on the seas,\n And robbs us of our merchants-ware.\u2019\n\n V\n\n King Henry was stout, and he turned him about,\n And swore by the Lord that was mickle of might\n \u2018I thought he\u2019d not been in the world throughout\n That durst have wrought England such unright.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n But ever they sigh\u00e8d, and said, alas!\n Unto King Harry this answer againe:\n \u2018He is a proud Scott that will robb us all\n Were we twenty shipps and he but one.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n The King looket over his left should\u00e8r,\n Amongst his lords and barrons so free:\n \u2018Have I never a lord in all my realme\n Will fetch yond traitor unto me?\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Yes, that dare I!\u2019 says my lord Charles Howard,\n Neere to the King wheras he did stand,\n \u2018If that Your Grace will give me leave,\n My self will perform what you command.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Thou shalt have six hundred men,\u2019 saith our King,\n \u2018And chuse them out of my realme so free;\n [Moreover] mariners and ship boyes,\n To guide the great ship on the sea.\u2019\n\n X\n\n \u2018I\u2019le goe speake with Sir Andrew,\u2019 says my Lord Howard;\n \u2018Upon the sea, if he be there;\n I will bring him and his ship to shore,\n Or before my prince I will ne\u2019er come neere.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n The first of all my Lord did call,\n A noble gunner he was one;\n This man was three score yeares and ten,\n And Peter Simon was his name.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Peter,\u2019 says he, \u2018I must sayle to the sea,\n To seek out an enemy; God be my speed!\n Before all others I have chosen thee;\n Of a hundred gunners thou\u2019st be my head.\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018My lord,\u2019 says he, \u2018if you\u2019ve chosen me\n Of a hundred gunners to be the head,\n You may hang me at your maine-mast tree\n If I miss my mark past three pence bread[1137].\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n The next of all my lord he did call,\n A noble bowman he was one;\n In Yorkshire was this gentleman borne,\n And William Horsley was his name.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Horsley,\u2019 says he, \u2018I must sayle to the sea,\n To seek out an enemy; God be my speede!\n Before all others I have chosen thee;\n Of a hundred bowemen thou\u2019st be my head.\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018My lord,\u2019 says he, \u2018if you\u2019ve chosen me\n Of a hundred bowemen to be the head,\n Hang me at your main-mast tree\n If I miss my mark past twelve pence bread.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n With pikes, and gunnes, and bowmen bold,\n This noble Howard is gone to the sea\n On the day before Midsummer-even,\n And out at Thames\u2019 mouth sayl\u00e8d they.\n\n XVIII\n\n They had not sayl\u00e8d day\u00e8s three\n Upon their journey they took in hand,\n But there they met with a noble ship,\n And stoutely made it both stay and stand.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018Thou must tell me thy name,\u2019 says Charles my lord Howard,\n \u2018Or who thou art, or from whence thou came,\n Yea, and where thy dwelling is,\n To whom and where thy ship does belong.\u2019\n\n XX\n\n \u2018My name,\u2019 says he, \u2018is Henery Hunt,\n With a pure hart and a penitent mind;\n I and my ship they doe belong\n Unto the New-castle that stands upon Tyne.\u2019--\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018Now thou must tell me, Henery Hunt,\n As thou hast sayl\u00e8d by day and by night,\n Hast thou not heard of a stout robb\u00e8r?\n Men calls him Sir Andrew Barton, Knight.\u2019\n\n XXII\n\n But ever he sigh\u00e8d, and said, \u2018Alas!\n Full well, my lord, I know that wight;\n He has robb\u2019d me of my merchants-ware,\n And I was his pris\u2019ner but yesternight.\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018As I was sayling upon the sea,\n And a Bourdeaux voyage as I did fare,\n He clasp\u00e8d me to his arch\u00e8borde[1138],\n And robb\u2019d me of all my merchants-ware.\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018And I am a man both poor and bare,\n Every man will have his own of me;\n And I am bound towards London to fare,\n To complain unto my prince Henrye.\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018That shall not need,\u2019 says my Lord Howard;\n \u2018If thou canst let me this robber see,\n For every penny he hath taken thee fro\u2019\n Thou shall be rewarded a shilling,\u2019 quoth he.\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018Now God forfend,\u2019 says Henery Hunt,\n \u2018My lord, you sho\u2019ld work so far amisse!\n God keep you out of that traitor\u2019s hands!\n For you wot full little what man he is.\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018He is brasse within, and steele without,\n And beams he bears in his topcastle stronge;\n His ship hath ordinance clean round about;\n Besides, my lord, he is very well mann\u2019d.\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018He hath a pinnace is dearlye dight[1139],\n Saint Andrew\u2019s cross, that is his guide[1140];\n His pinnace bears nine-score men and more,\n With fifteen cannons on every side.\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018Were you twenty ships, and he but one,\n Either in archbord or in hall[1141],\n He wo\u2019ld overcome you everye one,\n An if his beams they doe down fall.\u2019\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018This is cold comfort,\u2019 says my Lord Howard,\n \u2018To welcome a stranger thus to the sea;\n I\u2019le bring him and his ship to shore,\n Or else into Scotland he shall carry me.\u2019\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018Then, my lord, you must get a noble gunner;\n One that can set well with his e\u2019e,\n And sink his pinnace into the sea,\n And soon then overcome will he be.\n\n XXXII\n\n \u2018And when that you have done all this,\n If you chance Sir Andrew for to board,\n Let no man to his topcastle go;\n And I will give you a glass[1142], my lord,\n\n XXXIII\n\n \u2018And then you need to fear no Scot,\n Whether you sayle by day or by night;\n And to-morrow, by seven of the clocke,\n You shall meete with Sir Andrew Barton, Knight.\u2019\n\n XXXIV\n\n The merchant set Lord Howard a glass\n So well apparent in his sight\n That on the morrow by seven of the clock\n He spy\u2019d Sir Andrew Barton, Knight.\n\n XXXV\n\n Lord Howard he swore a mighty oath\n When he saw his hache-bords dearly dight;\n \u2018Now by my faith and by my troth,\n Yonder proud Scott is a worthy wight.\n\n XXXVI\n\n \u2018Take in your ancients[1143] and your standards,\n Yea, that no man shall them see,\n And put me forth a white willow wand,\n As merchants use to sayle the sea.\u2019\n\n XXXVII\n\n But they stirr\u2019d[1144] neither top nor mast,\n But Sir Andrew they pass\u00e8d by.--\n \u2018What English are yonder,\u2019 said Sir Andrew,\n \u2018That can[1145] so little curtesye?\n\n XXXVIII\n\n \u2018I have been admiral over the sea\n [Methinketh] more then these yeeres three;\n There is never an English nor Portingall dog,\n Can pass this way without leave of me.\n\n XXXIX\n\n \u2018But now yonder pedlars, they are pass\u2019d,\n Which is no little grief to me:\n Fetch them backe,\u2019 sayes Sir Andrew Barton,\n \u2018They shall all hang at my maine-mast tree.\u2019\n\n XL\n\n With that the pinnace it shot off,\n That my Lord Howard might it well ken;\n It strok\u00e8 down my lord\u2019s fore-m\u00e0st,\n And kill\u2019d fourteen of my lord his men.\n\n XLI\n\n \u2018Come hither, Simon!\u2019 says my Lord Howard,\n \u2018Look that thy words be true thou said;\n I\u2019le hang thee at my maine-mast tree\n If thou miss thy mark past three pence bread.\u2019\n\n XLII\n\n Simon was old, but his hart it was bold;\n He tooke downe a piece, and laid it full low;\n Chaine yeards nine he put therein,\n Besides other great shot less and moe.\n\n XLIII\n\n With that he let his gun-shot go;\n So well he settled it with his e\u2019e,\n The first sight that Sir Andrew saw,\n He saw his pinnace sunk in the sea.\n\n XLIV\n\n When Sir Andrew saw his pinnace sunk,\n Lord! in his heart he was not well!\n \u2018Cut my ropes! it is time to be gone!\n I\u2019le goe fetch yond pedlars back mysell!\u2019\n\n XLV\n\n When my Lord Howard saw Sir Andrew loose,\n Lord! in his heart that he was faine!\n \u2018Strike on your drums! spread out your ancients!\n Sound out your trumpets! sound out amain!\u2019\n\n XLVI\n\n \u2018Fight on, my men!\u2019 says Sir Andrew Barton;\n \u2018Weate[1146], howsoever this geare[1147] will sway[1148],\n It is my Lord Admiral of England\n Is come to seek me on the sea.\u2019\n\n XLVII\n\n Simon had a sone; with shot of a gun--\n Well Sir Andrew might it ken--\n He shot it in at the middle deck,\n And killed sixty more of Sir Andrew\u2019s men.\n\n XLVIII\n\n [Bold] Hunt came in at the other side,\n And at Sir Andrew he shot then;\n He drove down his fore-mast tree,\n And kill\u2019d eighty more of Sir Andrew\u2019s men.\n\n XLIX\n\n \u2018I have done a good turne,\u2019 sayes Henery Hunt;\n \u2018Sir Andrew is not our King\u2019s friend;\n He hoped t\u2019 have undone me yesternight,\n But I hope I have quit him well in the end.\u2019\n\n L\n\n \u2018Ever alas!\u2019 sayd Sir Andrew Barton,\n \u2018What sho\u2019ld a man either thinke or say?\n Yonder false thief is my strongest enemy,\n Who was my prisoner but yesterday.\n\n LI\n\n \u2018Come hither to me, thou Gourden good,\n And be thou ready at my call,\n And I will give thee three hundred pound\n If thou wilt let my beames downe fall.\u2019\n\n LII\n\n With that hee swarm\u2019d[1149] the main-mast tree,\n Soe did he it with might and maine;\n But Horsley, with a bearing arrow[1150],\n Stroke the Gourden through the braine.\n\n LIII\n\n And he fell into the hatches againe,\n And sore of his wound that he did bleed;\n Then word went through Sir Andrew\u2019s men,\n How that the Gourden he was dead.\n\n LIV\n\n \u2018Come hither to me, James Hamilton,\n Thou\u2019rt my sister\u2019s son, I have no more;\n I will give thee six hundred pound\n If thou wilt let my beames downe fall.\u2019\n\n LV\n\n With that he swarm\u2019d the main-mast tree,\n Soe did he it with might and main:\n Horsley, with another broad arrow,\n Strake the yeaman thoro\u2019 the brain.\n\n LVI\n\n That he fell downe to the hatches againe;\n Sore of his wound that hee did bleed,\n _Covetousness gets no gaine,\n It is very true_, as the Welshman said.\n\n LVII\n\n But when he saw his nephew slaine,\n Lord! in his heart he was not well!\n \u2018Go fetch me downe my armour of proof,\n For I will to the topcastle mysell.\n\n LVIII\n\n \u2018Go fetch me downe my armour of proof,\n For it is gilded with gold so cleere;\n God be with my brother, John of Barton!\n Amongst the Portingalls he did it weare.\u2019\n\n LIX\n\n But when he had his armour of proof,\n And on his body he had it on,\n Every man that look\u00e8d at him\n Said, Gun nor arrow he need fear none.\n\n LX\n\n \u2018Come hither, Horsley!\u2019 says my Lord Howard,\n \u2018And look your shaft that it goe right;\n Shoot a good shoote in the time of need,\n And for thy shooting thou\u2019st be made knight.\u2019\n\n LXI\n\n \u2018I\u2019le do my best,\u2019 sayes Horsley then,\n \u2018Your Honour shall see before I goe;\n If I sho\u2019ld be hang\u2019d at your maine-mast tree,\n I have in my ship but arrows two.\u2019\n\n LXII\n\n But at Sir Andrew he shot then;\n He made so sure to hit his mark;\n Under the spole[1151] of his right arme\n He smote Sir Andrew quite thro\u2019 the heart.\n\n LXIII\n\n Yet from the tree he wo\u2019ld not start,\n But he cling\u2019d to it with might and main;\n Under the collar then of his jacke[1152],\n He stroke Sir Andrew thoro\u2019 the brain.\n\n LXIV\n\n \u2018Fight on, my men!\u2019 says Sir Andrew Barton,\n \u2018I am hurt, but I am not slain;\n I\u2019le lay me downe and bleed a-while,\n And then I\u2019le rise and fight again.\n\n LXV\n\n \u2018Fight on, my men!\u2019 says Sir Andrew Barton,\n \u2018These English dogs they bite so lowe;\n Fight on for Scotland and Saint Andrew\n While that you hear my whistle blowe!\u2019\n\n LXVI\n\n But when they co\u2019ld not hear his whistle,\n Says Henery Hunt, \u2018I\u2019le lay my head\n You may board yonder noble ship, my lord,\n For I know Sir Andrew he is dead.\u2019\n\n LXVII\n\n With that they boarded this noble ship,\n So did they it with might and main;\n They found eighteen score Scots alive,\n Besides the rest were maim\u2019d and slaine.\n\n LXVIII\n\n Lord Howard took a sword in his hand,\n And so smote off Sir Andrew\u2019s head;\n The Scots stood by did weepe and mourne,\n But never a word they spoke or sayd.\n\n LXIX\n\n He caused his body to be taken downe,\n And over the hatch-bord cast into the sea,\n And about his middle three hundred crownes:\n \u2018Wheresoever thou lands, it will bury thee!\u2019\n\n LXX\n\n With his head they sayl\u2019d into England againe,\n With right good will and force and main,\n And on the day before New-Year\u2019s Even\n Into Thames\u2019 mouth they came againe.\n\n LXXI\n\n Lord Howard wrote to King Henry\u2019s grace,\n With all the newes hee co\u2019ld him bring:\n \u2018Such a New Year\u2019s gift I have brought to your Grace\n As never did subject to any King.\n\n LXXII\n\n \u2018For merchandise, yea and manhood,\n The like is nowhere to be found;\n The sight of these wo\u2019ld do you good,\n For you have not the like in your English ground.\u2019\n\n LXXIII\n\n When the King heard tell that they were come,\n Full royally he welcomed them home;\n Sir Andrew\u2019s ship was his New-Year\u2019s gift;\n A braver ship you never saw none.\n\n LXXIV\n\n Now hath our King Sir Andrew\u2019s ship,\n Beset with pearles and precyous stones;\n And now hath England two ships of war,\n Two ships of war, before but one.\n\n LXXV\n\n \u2018Who holpe to this?\u2019 says King Henrye,\n \u2018That I may reward him for his paine.\u2019--\n \u2018Henery Hunt, and Peter Simon,\n William Horsley, and I the same.\u2019--\n\n LXXVI\n\n \u2018Harry Hunt shall have his whistle and chaine,\n And all his jewels whatsoe\u2019er they be,\n And other rich gifts that I will not name,\n For his good service he hath done me.\n\n LXXVII\n\n \u2018Horsley, right thou\u2019st be a knight,\n Lands and livings thou shalt have store;\n Howard shall be Earl of Nottingham,\n And so was never Howard before.\n\n LXXVIII\n\n \u2018Now, Peter Simon, thou art old;\n I will maintaine thee and thy son;\n Thou shalt have five hundred pound all in gold\n For the good service that thou hast done.\u2019\n\n LXXIX\n\n With that King Henrye shifted his room[1153];\n In came the Queene and ladyes bright;\n Other arrands they had none\n But to see Sir Andrew Barton, Knight.\n\n LXXX\n\n But when they saw his deadly face,\n His eyes were hollow in his head;\n \u2018I wo\u2019ld give a hundred pound,\u2019 says his Grace,\n \u2018The man were alive as he is dead!\n\n LXXXI\n\n \u2018Yet for the manful part he hath play\u2019d,\n Both here at home and beyond the sea,\n His men shall have half-a-crowne a day\n Till they come to my brother, King Jamie.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1137] three pence bread = the breadth of a threepenny piece.\n\n[1138] arch\u00e8borde = hatch-board.\n\n[1139] dearlye dight = expensively fitted or ornamented.\n\n[1140] guide = guidon, signal flag.\n\n[1141] hall = hull.\n\n[1142] glass = a lantern to guide the man-of-war\u2019s course by the\nmerchantman\u2019s.\n\n[1143] ancients = ensigns.\n\n[1144] stirr\u2019d = moved, lowered.\n\n[1145] can = ken, know.\n\n[1146] Weate = wit ye, know.\n\n[1147] geare = business, fighting.\n\n[1148] sway = go, turn out.\n\n[1149] swarm\u2019d = climbed.\n\n[1150] bearing arrow = a long arrow for distant shooting.\n\n[1151] spole = shoulder, _\u00e9paule_.\n\n[1152] jacke = jacket, short coat of mail.\n\n[1153] shifted his room = made place.\n\n\n\n\n_131. The \u2018George-Aloe\u2019_\n\n\n I\n\n The _George-Aloe_, and the _Sweepstake_, too,\n _With hey, with hoe, for and a nony no,_\n O, there were two Merchant-men, a sailing for Safee\n _And alongst the Coast of Barbarye_.\n\n II\n\n The _George-Aloe_ came to anchor in the bay,\n _With hey, &c._\n But the jolly _Sweepstake_ kept on her way,\n _And alongst, &c._\n\n III\n\n They had not sayl\u2019d but leagues two or three,\n _With hey, &c._\n But they met with a French Man-of-War upon the Sea,\n _And alongst, &c._\n\n IV\n\n \u2018All haile, all haile, you lusty Gallants all!\n _With hey, &c._\n Of whence is your fair Ship, and whither do ye call?\u2019\n _And alongst, &c._\n\n V\n\n \u2018We are Englishmen, and bound for Safee,\u2019--\n _With hey, &c._\n \u2018Ay, and we are Frenchmen, and war upon the sea,\n _And alongst, &c._\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Amaine, Amaine, you English dogs, hail!\u2019--\n _With, hey, &c._\n \u2018Come aboard you French swads[1154], and strike down your sayle,\u2019\n _And alongst, &c._\n\n VII\n\n They laid us aboard on the Starboard side,\n _With hey, &c._\n And they threw us into the Sea so wide,\n _And alongst, &c._\n\n VIII\n\n When tidings to the _George-Aloe_ came,\n _With hey, &c._\n That the jolly _Sweepstake_ by a Frenchman was ta\u2019en,\n _And alongst, &c._\n\n IX\n\n \u2018To top, to top, thou little Cabin-boy,\n _With hey, &c._\n And see if this French Man-of-War thou canst descry,\u2019--\n _And alongst, &c._\n\n X\n\n \u2018A Sayle, a Sayle, under our lee!\n _With hey, &c._\n Yea, and another that is under her obey!\u2019\n _And alongst, &c._\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Weigh anchor, weigh anchor, O jolly Boat-swain!\n _With hey, &c._\n We will take this Frenchman, if we can,\u2019\n _And alongst, &c._\n\n XII\n\n We had not sayl\u2019d leagues two or three,\n _With hey, &c._\n But we met the French Man-of-War upon the Sea,\n _And alongst, &c._\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018All haile, All haile, you lusty Gallants hail!\n _With hey, &c._\n Of whence is your faire Ship, and whither do ye sayl?\u2019\n _And alongst, &c._\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018O, we are Merchant-men and bound for Safee,\u2019--\n _With hey, &c._\n \u2018Ay, and we are Frenchmen, and war upon the sea,\n _And alongst, &c._\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Amaine, Amaine, you English Dogges, hail!\u2019--\n _With hey, &c._\n \u2018Come aboard, you French rogues, and strike down your sayl!\u2019\n _And alongst, &c._\n\n XVI\n\n The first good shot that the _George-Aloe_ shot,\n _With hey, &c._\n He made the Frenchman\u2019s heart sore afraid,\n _And alongst, &c._\n\n XVII\n\n The second shot the _George-Aloe_ did afford,\n _With hey, &c._\n He struck their main-mast over the board,\n _And alongst, &c._\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018Have mercy, have mercy, you brave English Men!\u2019--\n _With hey, &c._\n \u2018O, what have you done with our merry Brethren?\u2019--\n _As they sayl\u2019d in Barbarye?_\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018We laid them aboard the starboard side,\n _With hey, &c._\n And we threw them into the Sea so wide,\u2019--\n _And alongst, &c._\n\n XX\n\n \u2018Such mercy as you have shewed unto them,\n _With hey, &c._\n Then the like mercy shall you have again,\u2019--\n _And alongst, &c._\n\n XXI\n\n We laid them aboard the larboard side,\n _With hey, &c._\n And we threw them into the Sea so wide,\n _And alongst, &c._\n\n XXII\n\n Lord, how it grieved our hearts full Sore,\n _With hey, &c._\n To see the drowned Frenchmen to swim along the shore!\n _And alongst, &c._\n\n XXIII\n\n Now gallant Seamen I bid you all adieu,\n _With hey, &c._\n This is the last Newes I can write to you,\n _To England\u2019s Coast from Barbarye._\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1154] swads = peascods, a cant term for soldiers.\n\n\n\n\n_132. The \u2018Golden Vanity\u2019_\n\n\n I\n\n A ship I have got in the North Country\n And she goes by the name of the _Golden Vanity_,\n O I fear she\u2019ll be taken by a Spanish Ga-la-lee,\n As she sails by the Low-lands low.\n\n II\n\n To the Captain then upspake the little Cabin-boy,\n He said, \u2018What is my fee, if the galley I destroy?\n The Spanish Ga-la-lee, if no more it shall anoy,\n As you sail by the Low-lands low.\u2019\n\n III\n\n \u2018Of silver and of gold I will give to you a store;\n And my pretty little daughter that dwelleth on the shore,\n Of treasure and of fee as well, I\u2019ll give to thee galore,\n As we sail by the Low-lands low.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n Then they row\u2019d him up tight in a black bull\u2019s skin,\n And he held all in his hand an augur sharp and thin,\n And he swam until he came to the Spanish Gal-a-lin,\n As she lay by the Low-lands low.\n\n V\n\n He bored with his augur, he bored once and twice,\n And some were playing cards, and some were playing dice,\n When the water flow\u00e8d in it dazzled their eyes,\n And she sank by the Low-lands low.\n\n VI\n\n So the Cabin-boy did swim all to the larboard side,\n Saying \u2018Captain! take me in, I am drifting with the tide!\u2019\n \u2018I will shoot you! I will kill you!\u2019 the cruel Captain cried,\n \u2018You may sink by the Low-lands low.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n Then the Cabin-boy did swim all to the starboard side,\n Saying,\u2018Messmates, take me in, I am drifting with the tide!\u2019\n Then they laid him on the deck, and he closed his eyes and died,\n As they sailed by the Low-lands low.\n\n VIII\n\n They sew\u2019d his body tight in an old cow\u2019s hide,\n And they cast the gallant cabin-boy out over the ship side,\n And left him without more ado to drift with the tide,\n And to sink by the Low-lands low.\n\n\n\n\n_133. John Dory_\n\n\n I\n\n As it fell on a holy-day,\n And upon a holy-tide-a,\n John Dory bought him an ambling nag,\n To Paris for to ride-a.\n\n II\n\n And when John Dory to Paris was come,\n A little before the gate-a,\n John Dory was fitted, the porter was witted\n To let him in thereat-a.\n\n III\n\n The first man that John Dory did meet\n Was good King John of France-a;\n John Dory could well of his courtesie,\n But fell downe in a trance-a.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018A pardon, a pardon, my liege and my king,\n For my merry men and for me-a,\n And all the churls in merry England,\n I\u2019le bring them all bound to thee-a.\u2019\n\n V\n\n And Nichol was then a Cornish man,\n A little beside Bohyde-a,\n He mann\u2019d him forth a good black barke,\n With fifty good oars of a side-a.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Run up, my boy, unto the maine top,\n And look what thou canst spy-a:\u2019\n \u2018Who ho! who ho! a good ship I do see,\n I trow it be John Dory-a.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n They hoist their sailes, both top and top,\n The mizzen and all was tride-a,\n And every man stood to his lot,\n Whatever should betide-a.\n\n VIII\n\n The roring cannons then were plied,\n And dub-a-dub went the drum-a;\n The braying trumpets loud they cried\n To courage both all and some-a.\n\n IX\n\n The grappling-hooks were brought at length,\n The brown bill and the sword-a,\n John Dory at length, for all his strength,\n Was clapt fast under board-a.\n\n\n\n\n_134. Willie Macintosh_\n\n\n I\n\n \u2018Turn, Willie Macintosh,\n Turn, I bid you;\n Gin ye burn Auchindown,\n Huntly will head you.\u2019--\n\n II\n\n \u2018Head me or hang me,\n That canna fley me;\n I\u2019ll burn Auchindown\n Ere the life lea\u2019 me.\u2019\n\n III\n\n Coming down Deeside,\n In a clear morning,\n Auchindown was in flame,\n Ere the cock-crawing.\n\n IV\n\n But coming o\u2019er Cairn Croom,\n And looking down, man,\n I saw Willie Macintosh\n Burn Auchindown, man.\n\n V\n\n \u2018Bonnie Willie Macintosh,\n Whare left ye your men?\u2019--\n \u2018I left them in the Stapler,\n But they\u2019ll never come hame.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Bonny Willie Macintosh,\n Whare now is your men?\u2019--\n \u2018I left them in the Stapler,\n Sleeping in their sheen[1155].\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1155] sheen = shoes.\n\n\n\n\n_135. The Bonnie House o\u2019 Airlie_\n\n\n I\n\n It fell on a day, and a bonnie simmer day,\n When green grew aits[1156] and barley,\n That there fell out a great dispute\n Between Argyll and Airlie.\n\n II\n\n Argyll has raised an hunder men,\n An hunder harness\u2019d rarely,\n And he\u2019s awa\u2019 by the back of Dunkell,\n To plunder the castle of Airlie.\n\n III\n\n Lady Ogilvie looks o\u2019er her bower-window,\n And O but she looks warely!\n And there she spied the great Argyll,\n Come to plunder the bonnie house of Airlie.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018Come down, come down, my Lady Ogilvie,\n Come down and kiss me fairly.\u2019--\n \u2018O I winna kiss the fause Argyll,\n If he shouldna leave a standing stane in Airlie.\u2019\n\n V\n\n He hath taken her by the left shoulder,\n Says, \u2018Dame, where lies thy dowry?\u2019--\n \u2018O it\u2019s east and west yon wan water side,\n And it\u2019s down by the banks of the Airlie.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n They hae sought it up, they hae sought it down,\n They hae sought it maist severely,\n Till they fand it in the fair plum-tree\n That shines on the bowling-green of Airlie.\n\n VII\n\n He hath taken her by the middle sae small,\n And O but she grat[1157] sairly!\n And laid her down by the bonnie burn-side,\n Till they plunder\u2019d the castle of Airlie.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Gif my gude lord war here this night,\n As he is with King Charlie,\n Neither you, nor ony ither Scottish lord,\n Durst avow to the plundering of Airlie.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Gif my gude lord war now at hame,\n And he is with his king,\n There durst nae a Campbell in a\u2019 Argyll\n Set fit[1158] on Airlie green.\n\n X\n\n \u2018Ten bonnie sons I have borne unto him,\n The eleventh ne\u2019er saw his daddy;\n But though I had an hunder mair,\n I\u2019d gie them a\u2019 to King Charlie!\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1156] aits = oats.\n\n[1157] grat = cried.\n\n[1158] fit = foot.\n\n\n\n\n_136. Johnnie of Cockerslee_\n\n\n I\n\n Johnnie rose up in a May morning,\n Call\u2019d for water to wash his hands;\n \u2018Gar loose to me the gude gray dogs,\n That are bound wi\u2019 iron bands.\u2019\n\n II\n\n When Johnnie\u2019s mother gat word o\u2019 that,\n Her hands for dule she wrang;\n \u2018O Johnnie, for my benison,\n To the greenwood dinna gang!\n\n III\n\n \u2018Eneugh ye hae o\u2019 gude wheat bread,\n And eneugh o\u2019 the blude-red wine;\n And therefore for nae venison, Johnnie,\n I pray ye, stir frae hame.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018There are Seven For\u2019sters at Hislinton side,\n At Hislinton where they dwell,\n And for ae drap o\u2019 thy heart\u2019s blude\n They wad ride the fords o\u2019 hell.\u2019\n\n V\n\n But Johnnie has buskit his gude bend-bow,\n His arrows, ane by ane,\n And he has gane to Durrisdeer\n To ding the dun deer down.\n\n VI\n\n He\u2019s lookit east, and he\u2019s lookit west,\n And a little below the sun;\n And there he spied the dun deer lying\n Aneath a buss[1159] o\u2019 broom.\n\n VII\n\n Johnnie he shot and the dun deer lap[1160],\n And he wounded her on the side;\n But atween the wood and the wan water\n His hounds they laid her pride.\n\n VIII\n\n And Johnnie has brittled[1161] the deer sae well,\n Had out her liver and lungs;\n And wi\u2019 these he has feasted his bluidy hounds\n As if they had been Earl\u2019s sons.\n\n IX\n\n They ate sae much o\u2019 the venison,\n And drank sae much o\u2019 the blude,\n That Johnnie and his gude gray hounds\n Fell asleep by yonder wood.\n\n X\n\n By there came a silly auld carle,\n An ill death mote he die!\n And he\u2019s awa\u2019 to Hislinton,\n Where the Seven Foresters did lie.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018What news, what news, ye gray-headed carle?\n What news? come tell to me.\u2019--\n \u2018I bring nae news,\u2019 said the gray-headed carle,\n \u2018But what these eyes did see.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018High up in Braidislee, low down in Braidislee,\n And under a buss o\u2019 scroggs[1162],\n The bonniest childe that ever I saw\n Lay sleeping atween his dogs.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018The sark he had upon his back\n It was o\u2019 the holland fine,\n The doublet he had over that\n It was o\u2019 the Lincoln twine[1163].\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018The buttons that were on his sleeve\n Were o\u2019 the gowd sae gude;\n The twa gray dogs he lay atween,\n Their mouths were dyed wi\u2019 blude.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n Then out and spak\u2019 the First Forester,\n The head man owre them a\u2019;\n \u2018If this be Johnnie o\u2019 Cockerslee\n Nae nearer will we draw.\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n But up and spak\u2019 the Sixth Forester,\n (His sister\u2019s son was he,)\n \u2018If this be Johnnie o\u2019 Cockerslee,\n We soon shall gar him dee!\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n The first flight of arrows the Foresters shot,\n They wounded him on the knee;\n And out and spak\u2019 the Seventh Forester,\n \u2018The next will gar him dee.\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018O some they count ye well-wight[1164] men,\n But I do count ye nane;\n For you might well ha\u2019 waken\u2019d me,\n And ask\u2019d gin I wad be ta\u2019en.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018The wildest wolf in a\u2019 this wood\n Wad no ha\u2019 done sae by me;\n She ha\u2019 wet her foot i\u2019 the wan water,\n And sprinkled it owre my bree[1165],\n And if that wad not ha\u2019 waken\u2019d me,\n Wad ha\u2019 gone an\u2019 let me be.\n\n XX\n\n \u2018O bows of yew, if ye be true,\n In London where ye were bought;\n And, silver strings, value me sma\u2019 things\n Till I get this vengeance wrought!\n And, fingers five, get up belive[1166]:\n And Manhood fail me nought!\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018Stand stout, stand stout, my noble dogs,\n Stand stout and dinna flee!\n Stand fast, stand fast, my good gray hounds,\n And we will gar them dee!\u2019\n\n XXII\n\n Johnnie has set his back to an aik,\n His foot against a stane,\n And he has slain the Seven Foresters,\n He has slain them a\u2019 but ane.\n\n XXIII\n\n He has broke three ribs in that ane\u2019s side,\n But and his collar bane;\n He\u2019s flung him twa-fald owre his steed,\n Bade him carry the tidings hame....\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018Is there no a bird in a\u2019 this forest\n Will do as mickle for me\n As dip its wing in the wan water\n And straik it on my e\u2019e-bree?\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018Is there no a bird in a\u2019 this forest\n Can sing as I can say,--\n Can flee away to my mother\u2019s bower\n And tell to fetch Johnnie away?\u2019\n\n XXVI\n\n The starling flew to her window-stane,\n It whistled and it sang;\n And aye the owre-word o\u2019 the tune\n Was, _Johnnie tarries lang!_\n\n XXVII\n\n They made a rod o\u2019 the hazel-bush,\n Another o\u2019 the slae-thorn tree,\n And mony, mony were the men\n At the fetching our Johnnie.\n\n XXVIII\n\n Then out and spak\u2019 his auld mother,\n And fast her tears did fa\u2019:\n \u2018Ye wadna be warn\u2019d, my son Johnnie,\n Frae the hunting to bide awa\u2019!\u2019\n\n XXIX\n\n Now Johnnie\u2019s gude bend-bow is broke,\n And his gude gray dogs are slain;\n And his body lies dead in Durrisdeer,\n And his hunting it is done.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1159] buss = bush, clump.\n\n[1160] lap = leapt.\n\n[1161] brittled = \u2018broken\u2019, cut up venison.\n\n[1162] scroggs = stunted, or scraggy, trees.\n\n[1163] twine = thread, texture.\n\n[1164] well-wight = sturdy, here brave.\n\n[1165] bree = brow.\n\n[1166] belive = nimbly, at once.\n\n\n\n\n_137. Kinmont Willie_\n\n\n I\n\n O have ye na heard o\u2019 the fause Sakelde?\n O have ye na heard o\u2019 the keen Lord Scroope?\n How they hae ta\u2019en bauld Kinmont Willie,\n On Haribee to hang him up?\n\n II\n\n Had Willie had but twenty men,\n But twenty men as stout as he,\n Fause Sakelde had never the Kinmont ta\u2019en,\n Wi\u2019 eight score in his companie.\n\n III\n\n They band his legs beneath the steed,\n They tied his hands behind his back;\n They guarded him, fivesome on each side,\n And they brought him ower the Liddel-rack[1167].\n\n IV\n\n They led him thro\u2019 the Liddel-rack,\n And also thro\u2019 the Carlisle sands;\n They brought him in to Carlisle castell,\n To be at my Lord Scroope\u2019s commands.\n\n V\n\n \u2018My hands are tied, but my tongue is free,\n And whae will dare this deed avow?\n Or answer by the Border law?\n Or answer to the bauld Buccleuch?\u2019--\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Now haud thy tongue, thou rank reiver!\n There\u2019s never a Scot shall set thee free:\n Before ye cross my castle yate,\n I trow ye shall take farewell o\u2019 me.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Fear na ye that, my lord,\u2019 quo\u2019 Willie:\n \u2018By the faith o\u2019 my body, Lord Scroope,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018I never yet lodged in a hostelrie\n But I paid my lawing[1168] before I gaed.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n Now word is gane to the bauld Keeper,\n In Branksome Ha\u2019, where that he lay,\n That Lord Scroope has ta\u2019en the Kinmont Willie,\n Between the hours of night and day.\n\n IX\n\n He has ta\u2019en the table wi\u2019 his hand,\n He garr\u2019d the red wine spring on hie--\n \u2018Now Christ\u2019s curse on my head,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018But aveng\u00e8d of Lord Scroope I\u2019ll be!\n\n X\n\n \u2018O is my basnet a widow\u2019s curch[1169]?\n Or my lance a wand of the willow-tree?\n Or my arm a ladye\u2019s lilye hand,\n That an English lord should lightly[1170] me!\n\n XI\n\n \u2018And have they ta\u2019en him, Kinmont Willie,\n Against the truce of Border tide?\n And forgotten that the bauld Buccleuch\n Is Keeper here on the Scottish side?\n\n XII\n\n \u2018And have they e\u2019en ta\u2019en him, Kinmont Willie,\n Withouten either dread or fear?\n And forgotten that the bauld Buccleuch\n Can back a steed, or shake a spear?\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018O were there war between the lands,\n As well I wot that there is nane,\n I would slight Carlisle castell high,\n Though it were builded of marble stane.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018I would set that castell in a low[1171],\n And sloken it with English blood!\n There\u2019s never a man in Cumberland\n Should ken where Carlisle castell stood.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018But since nae war\u2019s between the lands,\n And there is peace, and peace should be;\n I\u2019ll neither harm English lad or lass,\n And yet the Kinmont freed shall be!\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n He has call\u2019d him forty Marchmen bauld,\n I trow they were of his ain name,\n Except Sir Gilbert Elliot, call\u2019d\n The Laird of Stobs, I mean the same.\n\n XVII\n\n He has call\u2019d him forty Marchmen bauld,\n Were kinsmen to the bauld Buccleuch;\n With spur on heel, and splent[1172] on spauld[1173],\n And gleuves of green, and feathers blue.\n\n XVIII\n\n There were five and five before them a\u2019,\n Wi\u2019 hunting-horns and bugles bright:\n And five and five came wi\u2019 Buccleuch,\n Like Warden\u2019s men, array\u2019d for fight.\n\n XIX\n\n And five and five, like a mason-gang,\n That carried the ladders lang and hie;\n And five and five, like broken men;\n And so they reach\u2019d the Woodhouselee.\n\n XX\n\n And as we cross\u2019d the Bateable Land[1174],\n When to the English side we held,\n The first o\u2019 men that we met wi\u2019,\n Whae sould it be but fause Sakelde?\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018Where be ye gaun, ye hunters keen?\u2019\n Quo\u2019 fause Sakelde; \u2018come tell to me!\u2019--\n \u2018We go to hunt an English stag,\n Has trespass\u2019d on the Scots countrie.\u2019\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018Where be ye gaun, ye marshal men?\u2019\n Quo\u2019 fause Sakelde; \u2018come tell me true!\u2019--\n \u2018We go to catch a rank reiver,\n Has broken faith wi\u2019 the bauld Buccleuch.\u2019\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018Where be ye gaun, ye mason lads,\n Wi\u2019 a\u2019 your ladders, lang and hie?\u2019--\n \u2018We gang to herry a corbie\u2019s nest,\n That wons not far frae Woodhouselee.\u2019--\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018Where be ye gaun, ye broken men?\u2019\n Quo\u2019 fause Sakelde; \u2018come tell to me!\u2019--\n Now Dickie of Dryhope led that band,\n And the never a word of lear[1175] had he.\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018Why trespass ye on the English side?\n Row-footed[1176] outlaws, stand!\u2019 quo\u2019 he;\n The never a word had Dickie to say,\n Sae he thrust the lance through his fause bodie.\n\n XXVI\n\n Then on we held for Carlisle toun,\n And at Staneshaw-bank the Eden we cross\u2019d;\n The water was great and meikle of spate,\n But the never a horse nor man we lost.\n\n XXVII\n\n And when we reach\u2019d the Staneshaw-bank,\n The wind was rising loud and hie;\n And there the Laird gar\u2019d leave our steeds,\n For fear that they should stamp and neigh.\n\n XXVIII\n\n And when we left the Staneshaw-bank,\n The wind began fu\u2019 loud to blaw;\n But \u2019twas wind and weet, and fire and sleet,\n When we came beneath the castle wa\u2019.\n\n XXIX\n\n We crept on knees, and held our breath,\n Till we placed the ladders against the wa\u2019;\n And sae ready was Buccleuch himsell\n To mount the first before us a\u2019.\n\n XXX\n\n He has ta\u2019en the watchman by the throat,\n He flung him down upon the lead--\n \u2018Had there not been peace between our lands,\n Upon the other side thou hadst gaed!--\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018Now sound out, trumpets!\u2019 quo\u2019 Buccleuch;\n \u2018Let\u2019s waken Lord Scroope right merrilie!\u2019\n Then loud the Warden\u2019s trumpet blew--\n _O wha dare meddle wi\u2019 me?_\n\n XXXII\n\n Then speedilie to wark we gaed,\n And raised the slogan ane and a\u2019,\n And cut a hole through a sheet of lead,\n And so we wan to the castle ha\u2019.\n\n XXXIII\n\n They thought King James and a\u2019 his men\n Had won the house wi\u2019 bow and spear;\n It was but twenty Scots and ten,\n That put a thousand in sic a stear[1177]!\n\n XXXIV\n\n Wi\u2019 coulters, and wi\u2019 forehammers[1178],\n We gar\u2019d the bars bang merrilie,\n Until we came to the inner prison,\n Where Willie o\u2019 Kinmont he did lie.\n\n XXXV\n\n And when we cam to the lower prison,\n Where Willie o\u2019 Kinmont he did lie--\n \u2018O sleep ye, wake ye, Kinmont Willie,\n Upon the morn that thou\u2019s to die?\u2019--\n\n XXXVI\n\n \u2018O I sleep saft, and I wake aft;\n It\u2019s lang since sleeping was fley\u2019d[1179] frae me!\n Gie my service back to my wife and bairns,\n And a\u2019 gude fellows that spier[1180] for me.\u2019\n\n XXXVII\n\n The Red Rowan has hente him up,\n The starkest man in Teviotdale--\n \u2018Abide, abide now, Red Rowan,\n Till of my Lord Scroope I take farewell.\n\n XXXVIII\n\n \u2018Farewell, farewell, my gude Lord Scroope!\n My gude Lord Scroope, farewell!\u2019 he cried;\n \u2018I\u2019ll pay you for my lodging mail[1181],\n When first we meet on the Border side.\u2019--\n\n XXXIX\n\n Then shoulder high, with shout and cry,\n We bore him down the ladder lang;\n At every stride Red Rowan made,\n I wot the Kinmont\u2019s airns play\u2019d clang!\n\n XL\n\n \u2018O mony a time,\u2019 quo\u2019 Kinmont Willie,\n \u2018I have ridden horse baith wild and wood[1182];\n But a rougher beast than Red Rowan\n I ween my legs have ne\u2019er bestrode.\n\n XLI\n\n \u2018And mony a time,\u2019 quo\u2019 Kinmont Willie,\n \u2018I\u2019ve prick\u2019d a horse out oure the furs[1183];\n But since the day I back\u2019d a steed,\n I never wore sic cumbrous spurs!\u2019\n\n XLII\n\n We scarce had won the Staneshaw-bank\n When a\u2019 the Carlisle bells were rung,\n And a thousand men on horse and foot\n Cam wi\u2019 the keen Lord Scroope along.\n\n XLIII\n\n Buccleuch has turn\u2019d to Eden Water,\n Even where it flow\u2019d frae bank to brim,\n And he has plunged in wi\u2019 a\u2019 his band,\n And safely swam them through the stream.\n\n XLIV\n\n He turn\u2019d him on the other side,\n And at Lord Scroope his glove flung he;\n \u2018If ye like na my visit in merry England,\n In fair Scotland come visit me!\u2019\n\n XLV\n\n All sore astonish\u2019d stood Lord Scroope,\n He stood as still as rock of stane;\n He scarcely dared to trew[1184] his eyes,\n When through the water they had gane.\n\n XLVI\n\n \u2018He is either himsell a devil frae hell,\n Or else his mother a witch maun be;\n I wadna have ridden that wan water\n For a\u2019 the gowd in Christentie.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1167] Liddel-rack = a ford on the Liddel.\n\n[1168] lawing = reckoning.\n\n[1169] curch = kerchief, coif.\n\n[1170] lightly = treat disrespectfully.\n\n[1171] low = flame.\n\n[1172] splent = split, or overlapping armour.\n\n[1173] spauld = shoulder, \u00e9paule.\n\n[1174] Bateable Land = debateable land; a stretch of frontier between\nthe Solway Firth and Scots Dyke, claimed by both nations.\n\n[1175] lear = lore.\n\n[1176] row-footed = rough-footed.\n\n[1177] stear = stir, commotion.\n\n[1178] forehammers = sledge-hammers.\n\n[1179] fley\u2019d = scared.\n\n[1180] spier = inquire.\n\n[1181] mail = rent.\n\n[1182] wood = mad.\n\n[1183] furs = furrows.\n\n[1184] trew = trust.\n\n\n\n\n_138. Jock o\u2019 the Side_\n\n\n I\n\n Now Liddesdale has ridden a raid,\n But I wat they had better hae staid at hame;\n For Michael o\u2019 Winfield he is dead,\n And Jock o\u2019 the Side is prisoner ta\u2019en.\n\n II\n\n To Sybill o\u2019 the Side the tidings came;\n By the waterside there as she ran\n She took her kirtle by the hem\n And fast to Mangerton she\u2019s gane.\n\n III\n\n Then up and spoke her Lord Mangerton--\n \u2018What news, what news, my sister to me?\u2019--\n \u2018Bad news, bad news! My Michael is slain;\n And they ha\u2019e taken my son Johnie.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n The lords they wrang their fingers white,\n Ladyes did pull themsells by the hair,\n Crying \u2018Alas and well-a day!\n For Jock o\u2019 the Side we\u2019ll never see mair!\u2019\n\n V\n\n --\u2018Ne\u2019er fear, sister Sybill,\u2019 quo\u2019 Mangerton;\n \u2018I have yokes of ousen, eighty and three;\n My barns, my byres, and my faulds, a\u2019 weil fill\u2019d.\n I\u2019ll part wi\u2019 them a\u2019 ere Johnie shall dee.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Three men I\u2019ll send to set him free,\n Well harness\u2019d a\u2019 wi\u2019 the best o\u2019 steel;\n The English louns may hear, and drie\n The weight o\u2019 their braid-swords to feel.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018The Laird\u2019s Jock ane, the Laird\u2019s Wat twa,\n O Hobbie Noble, thou ane maun be!\n Thy coat is blue, thou hast been true,\n Since England banish\u2019d thee, to me.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n Now Hobbie was an English man,\n In Bewcastle dale was bred and born;\n But his misdeeds they were sae great,\n They banish\u2019d him ne\u2019er to return.\n\n IX\n\n Lord Mangerton them orders gave,\n \u2018Your horses the wrang way maun be shod,\n Like gentlemen ye mauna seem,\n But look like corn-caugers[1185] ga\u2019en the road.\n\n X\n\n \u2018Your armour gude ye mauna shaw,\n Nor yet appear like men o\u2019 war;\n As country lads be a\u2019 array\u2019d,\n Wi\u2019 branks[1186] and brecham[1187] on each mare.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n Their horses are the wrang way shod,\n And Hobbie has mounted his grey sae fine;\n Wat on his auld horse, Jock on his bey,\n And on they rode for the water of Tyne.\n\n XII\n\n But when they came to Cholerton ford\n They lighted down by the light o\u2019 the moon,\n And a tree they cut, wi\u2019 nogs on each side,\n To climb up the wa\u2019 of Newcastle toun.\n\n XIII\n\n But when they cam to Newcastle toun,\n And down were alighted at the wa\u2019,\n They fand thair tree three ells ower laigh[1188],\n They fand their stick baith short and sma\u2019.\n\n XIV\n\n Then up spake the Laird\u2019s ain Jock:\n \u2018There\u2019s naething for\u2019t; the gates we maun force.\u2019--\n But when they cam the gate until,\n The porter withstood baith men and horse.\n\n XV\n\n His neck in twa the Armstrangs wrang;\n Wi\u2019 fute or hand he ne\u2019er play\u2019d pa[1189]!\n His life and his keys at anes they hae ta\u2019en,\n And cast the body ahint the wa\u2019.\n\n XVI\n\n Now sune they reach Newcastle jail,\n And to the prisoner thus they call:\n \u2018Sleeps thou, wakes thou, Jock o\u2019 the Side,\n Or art thou weary of thy thrall?\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n Jock answers thus, wi\u2019 dolefu\u2019 tone:\n \u2018Aft, aft I wake--I seldom sleep:\n But whae\u2019s this kens my name sae weel,\n And thus to mese[1190] my waes does seek?\u2019--\n\n XVIII\n\n Then out and spak the gude Laird\u2019s Jock,\n \u2018Now fear ye na, my billie[1191],\u2019 quo\u2019 he;\n \u2018For here are the Laird\u2019s Jock, the Laird\u2019s Wat,\n And Hobbie Noble to set thee free.\u2019--\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018Now haud thy tongue, my gude Laird\u2019s Jock,\n For ever, alas! this canna be;\n For if a\u2019 Liddesdale were here the night,\n The morn\u2019s the day that I maun dee.\n\n XX\n\n \u2018Full fifteen stane o\u2019 Spanish iron,\n They hae laid a\u2019 right sair on me;\n Wi\u2019 locks and keys I am fast bound\n In this dungeon dark and dreirie.\u2019\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018Fear ye na that,\u2019 quo\u2019 the Laird\u2019s Jock;\n \u2018A faint heart ne\u2019er wan a fair ladie;\n Work thou within, we\u2019ll work without,\n And I\u2019ll be sworn we\u2019ll set thee free.\u2019\n\n XXII\n\n The first strong door that they cam at,\n They loos\u00e8d it without a key;\n The next chain\u2019d door that they cam at,\n They garr\u2019d it a\u2019 to flinders flee.\n\n XXIII\n\n The prisoner now upon his back\n The Laird\u2019s Jock has gotten up fu\u2019 hie;\n And, airns and a\u2019, down the tolbooth[1192] stair,\n Wi\u2019 nae sma\u2019 speed and joy brings he.\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018Now, Jock, my man,\u2019 quo\u2019 Hobbie Noble,\n \u2018Some o\u2019 his weight ye may lay on me.\u2019--\n \u2018I wat weel no!\u2019 quo\u2019 the Laird\u2019s ain Jock,\n \u2018I count him lighter than a flee.\u2019\n\n XXV\n\n Sae out at the gates they a\u2019 are gane,\n The prisoner\u2019s set on horseback hie;\n And now wi\u2019 speed they\u2019ve ta\u2019en the gate,\n While ilk ane jokes fu\u2019 wantonlie:\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018O Jock! sae winsomely ye sit,\n Wi\u2019 baith your feet upon ae side;\n Sae weel ye\u2019re harneist, and sae trig,\n In troth ye sit like ony bride!\u2019\n\n XXVII\n\n The night, tho\u2019 wat, they did na mind,\n But hied them on fu\u2019 merrilie,\n Until they cam to Cholerton brae,\n Where the water ran like mountains hie.\n\n XXVIII\n\n But when they cam to Cholerton ford,\n There they met with an auld man;\n Says--\u2018Honest man, will the water ride?\n Tell us in haste, if that ye can.\u2019--\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018I wat weel no,\u2019 quo\u2019 the gude auld man;\n \u2018I hae lived here thretty years and three;\n Nor man nor horse can go ower Tyne,\n Except it were a horse of tree.\u2019--\n\n XXX\n\n Then out and spoke the Laird\u2019s saft Wat,\n The greatest coward in the companie:\n \u2018Now halt, now halt! we need na try\u2019t;\n The day is come we a\u2019 maun die!\u2019--\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018Puir faint-hearted thief!\u2019 cried the Laird\u2019s ain Jock,\n \u2018There\u2019ll nae man die but him that\u2019s fie[1193];\n I\u2019ll guide ye a\u2019 right safely thro\u2019;\n Lift ye the pris\u2019ner on ahint me.\u2019\n\n XXXII\n\n Wi\u2019 that the water they hae ta\u2019en,\n By ane\u2019s and twa\u2019s they a\u2019 swam thro\u2019;\n \u2018Here are we a\u2019 safe,\u2019 quo\u2019 the Laird\u2019s Jock,\n \u2018And, puir faint Wat, what think ye now?\u2019\n\n XXXIII\n\n They scarce the other brae had won,\n When twenty men they saw pursue;\n Frae Newcastle toun they had been sent,\n A\u2019 English lads baith stout and true.\n\n XXXIV\n\n But when the Land-sergeant the water saw,\n \u2018It winna ride, my lads,\u2019 says he;\n Then cried aloud--\u2018The prisoner take,\n But leave the fetters, I pray, to me!\u2019\n\n XXXV\n\n \u2018I wat weel no,\u2019 quo\u2019 the Laird\u2019s ain Jock,\n \u2018I\u2019ll keep them, shoon to my mare to be:\n My gude bay mare--for I am sure,\n She has bought them a\u2019 right dear frae thee.\u2019--\n\n XXXVI\n\n Sae now they are on to Liddesdale,\n E\u2019en as fast as they could them hie;\n The prisoner is brought to his ain fireside,\n And there o\u2019 his airns they mak him free.\n\n XXXVII\n\n \u2018Now, Jock, my billie,\u2019 quo\u2019 a\u2019 the three,\n \u2018The day is comed thou was to die;\n But thou\u2019s as weel at thy ain ingle-side,\n Now sitting, I think, \u2019twixt thee and me.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1185] corn-caugers = corn hucksters.\n\n[1186] branks = wooden halter.\n\n[1187] brecham = straw collar.\n\n[1188] laigh = low.\n\n[1189] pa = paw.\n\n[1190] mese = soothe.\n\n[1191] billie = comrade.\n\n[1192] tolbooth = gaol.\n\n[1193] fie = fey, doomed.\n\n\n\n\n_139. Hobbie Noble_\n\n\n I\n\n Foul fa\u2019 the breast first treason bred in!\n That Liddesdale may safely say,\n For in it there was baith meat and drink,\n And corn unto our geldings gay.\n\n II\n\n We were stout-hearted men and true,\n As England it did often say;\n But now we may turn our backs and fly,\n Since brave Noble is seld[1194] away.\n\n III\n\n Now Hobbie he was an English man,\n And born into Bewcastle dale,\n But his misdeeds they were sae great,\n They banish\u2019d him to Liddesdale.\n\n IV\n\n At Kershope-foot the tryst was set,\n Kershope of the lily lee;\n And there was traitour Sim o\u2019 the Mains,\n With him a private companie.\n\n V\n\n Then Hobbie has graith\u2019d[1195] his body weel,\n I wat wi\u2019 baith good iron and steel;\n And he has pull\u2019d out his fringed[1196] grey,\n And there, brave Hobbie, he rade him weel.\n\n VI\n\n Then Hobbie is down the water gane,\n Even as fast as he may drie;\n Tho\u2019 they shou\u2019d a\u2019 brusten and broken their hearts,\n Frae that riding-tryst he would not be.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Weel may ye be, my feiries[1197] five!\n And aye, what is your wills wi\u2019 me?\u2019\n Then they cryd a\u2019 wi\u2019 ae consent:\n \u2018Thou\u2019rt welcome here, brave Noble, to me.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Wilt thou with us into England ride?\n And thy safe-warrand we will be,\n If we get a horse worth a hundred punds,\n Upon his back that thou shalt be.\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018I dare not with you into England ride,\n The Land-sergeant has me at feid[1198];\n I know not what evil may betide\n For Peter of Whitfield his brother is dead.\n\n X\n\n \u2018And Antony Shiel he loves not me,\n For I gat twa drifts of his sheep;\n The great Earl of Whitfield loves me not,\n For nae gear frae me he e\u2019er could keep.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018But will ye stay till the day gae down,\n Until the night come owre the grund,\n And I\u2019ll be a guide worth ony twa\n That may in Liddesdale be found.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Tho\u2019 dark the night as pick[1199] and tar,\n I\u2019ll guide ye owre yon hills sae hie,\n And bring ye a\u2019 in safety back,\n If you will be true and follow me.\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n He has guided them owre moss and muir,\n O\u2019er hill and houp[1200], and mony a down,\n Til they came to the Foulbogshiel,\n And there brave Noble he lighted down.\n\n XIV\n\n Then word is gane to the Land-sergeant,\n In Askerton where that he lay:\n \u2018The deer that ye hae hunted sae lang\n Is seen into the Waste this day.\u2019--\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Then Hobbie Noble is that deer;\n I wat he carries the style fu\u2019 hie!\n Aft has he beat your slough-hounds[1201] back,\n And set yourselves at little eie[1202].\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018Gar warn the bows of Hartlie-burn,\n See they sharp their arrows on the wa\u2019!\n Warn Willeva and Spear Edom,\n And see the morn they meet me a\u2019.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018Gar meet me on the Rodric-haugh,\n And see it be by break o\u2019 day;\n And we will on to Conscouthart Green,\n For there, I think, we\u2019ll get our prey.\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n Then Hobbie Noble has dreamit a dream,\n In the Foulbogshiel where that he lay;\n He thought his horse was aneath him shot,\n And he himself got hard away.\n\n XIX\n\n The cocks could craw, and the day could daw\u2019,\n And I wat sae even down fell the rain;\n Had Hobbie na waken\u2019d at that time,\n In the Foulbogshiel he\u2019d been ta\u2019en or slain.\n\n XX\n\n \u2018Get up, get up, my feiries five,\n For I wat here makes a fu\u2019 ill day;\n And the warst clock[1203] of this companie\n I hope shall cross the Waste this day.\n\n XXI\n\n Now Hobbie thought the gates were clear,\n But, ever alas! it was not sae;\n They were beset wi\u2019 cruel men and keen,\n That away brave Noble could not gae.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018Yet follow me, my feiries five,\n And see of me ye keep good array;\n And the worst clock of this companie\n I hope shall cross the Waste this day.\u2019\n\n XXIII\n\n There was heaps of men now Hobbie before,\n And other heaps was him behin\u2019,\n That had he been wight as Wallace was\n Away brave Noble he could not win.\n\n XXIV\n\n Then Hobbie he had but a laddie\u2019s sword,\n But he did more than a laddie\u2019s deed;\n Till in the midst of Conscouthart Green,\n He brake it o\u2019er Jers-a-Wigham\u2019s head.\n\n XXV\n\n Now they have ta\u2019en brave Hobbie Noble,\n Wi\u2019 his ain bowstring they band him sae;\n And I wat his heart was neer sae sair\n As when his ain five band him on the brae.\n\n XXVI\n\n They have ta\u2019en him on for West Carlisle;\n They ask\u2019d him if he kenn\u2019d the way;\n Whate\u2019er he thought, yet little he said;\n He knew that gate as well as they.\n\n XXVII\n\n They hae ta\u2019en him up the Ricker-gate;\n The wives they cast their windows wide,\n And ilka wife to anither can say,\n \u2018That\u2019s the man loos\u2019d Jock o\u2019 the Side!\u2019--\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018Fy on ye, women! why ca\u2019 ye me man?\n For it\u2019s nae man that I\u2019m used like;\n I\u2019m but like a forfoughen[1204] hound,\n Has been fighting in a dirty syke[1205].\u2019\n\n XXIX\n\n Then they hae ta\u2019en him up thro\u2019 Carlisle town,\n And set him by the chimney-fire;\n They gave brave Noble a wheat loaf to eat,\n And that was little his desire.\n\n XXX\n\n They gave him a wheaten loaf to eat\n And after that a can of beer;\n Then they cried a\u2019, wi\u2019 ae consent,\n \u2018Eat, brave Noble, and make good cheer!\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018Confess my lord\u2019s horse, Hobbie,\u2019 they say,\n \u2018And the morn in Carlisle thou\u2019se no dee.\u2019--\n \u2018How shall I confess them?\u2019 Hobbie says,\n \u2018For I never saw them with mine e\u2019e.\u2019\n\n XXXII\n\n Then Hobbie has sworn a fu\u2019 great aith,\n By the day that he was gotten or born,\n He never had onything o\u2019 my lord\u2019s\n That either ate him grass or corn.\n\n XXXIII\n\n \u2018Now fare thee weel, sweet Mangerton!\n For I think again I\u2019ll ne\u2019er thee see;\n I wad betray nae lad alive,\n For a\u2019 the gowd in Christentie.\n\n XXXIV\n\n \u2018And fare thee well now, Liddesdale,\n Baith the hie land and the law!\n Keep ye weel frae traitor Mains!\n For gowd and gear he\u2019ll sell ye a\u2019.\n\n XXXV\n\n \u2018I\u2019d rather be ca\u2019d Hobbie Noble,\n In Carlisle, where he suffers for his faut,\n Before I were ca\u2019d the traitor Mains,\n That eats and drinks o\u2019 the meal and maut.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1194] seld = sold.\n\n[1195] graith\u2019d = clad in armour.\n\n[1196] fringed = long-haired at fetlocks.\n\n[1197] feiries = feres, comrades.\n\n[1198] feid = feud.\n\n[1199] pick = pitch.\n\n[1200] houp = \u2018hope,\u2019 a hollow between two hills.\n\n[1201] slough-hounds = sleuth-hounds.\n\n[1202] eie = awe.\n\n[1203] clock = lame one, hobbler.\n\n[1204] forfoughen = out-wearied.\n\n[1205] syke = ditch.\n\n\n\n\n_140. Archie of Cawfield_\n\n\n I\n\n As I was a-walking mine alane,\n It was by the dawning of the day,\n I heard twa brithers make their mane,\n And I listen\u2019d weel what they did say.\n\n II\n\n The youngest to the eldest said:\n \u2018Blythe and merrie how can we be?\n There were three brithren of us born,\n And ane of us is condemn\u2019d to die.\u2019--\n\n III\n\n \u2018An ye wad be merrie, an ye wad be sad,\n What the better wad billy[1206] Archie be?\n Unless I had thirty men to mysell,\n And a\u2019 to ride in my companie.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018Ten to hald the horses\u2019 heads,\n And other ten the watch to be,\n And ten to break up the strong prison\n Where billy Archie he does lie.\n\n V\n\n \u2018Had I but thirty well-wight[1207] men,\n Thirty o\u2019 the best in Christiantie,\n I wad go on to fair Dumfries,\n I wad loose my brother and set him free.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n Then up and spak him mettled John Ha\u2019\n (For leugh o\u2019 Liddesdale[1208] crackit he):\n \u2018An I had eleven men to mysell,\n It\u2019s aye the twalt man I wad be.\u2019--\n\n VII\n\n Then up bespak him coarse Ca\u2019field,\n (I wot and little gude worth was he):\n \u2018Thirty men is few anew,\n And a\u2019 to ride in our companie.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n There was horsing, horsing in haste,\n And cracking of whips out owre the lee;\n Until they cam to the Murraywhat,\n And they lighted there right speedilie.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018A smith! a smith!\u2019 Dickie he cries,\n \u2018A smith, a smith, right speedilie,\n To turn back the caukers[1209] of our horses\u2019 shoon!\n For it\u2019s unkensome[1210] we wad be.\n\n X\n\n \u2018There lives a smith on the water-side,\n Will shoe my little black mare for me;\n And I\u2019ve a crown in my pock\u00e9t,\n And every groat of it I wad gie.\u2019--\n\n XI\n\n \u2018The night is mirk, and it\u2019s very mirk,\n And by candle-light I canna weel see;\n The night is mirk, and it\u2019s very pit mirk,\n And there will never a nail ca\u2019 right for me.\u2019--\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Shame fa\u2019 you and your trade baith,\n Canna beet[1211] a good fellow by your mystery[1212];\n But leeze me on[1213] thee, my little black mare,\n Thou\u2019s worth thy weight in gold to me.\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n There was horsing, horsing in haste,\n And cracking of whips out owre the lee,\n Until they came to the Bonshaw wood,\n Where they held their council privately.\n\n XIV\n\n Some says, \u2018We\u2019ll gang the Annan road;\n It is the better road,\u2019 said they;\n But up bespake then Dicky Ha\u2019,\n The wisest of that company:\n\n XV\n\n Says, \u2018Annan road\u2019s a public road,\n It\u2019s no the road that makes for me;\n But we will through at the Hoddam ford,\n It is the better road,\u2019 quo\u2019 he.\n\n XVI\n\n There was horsing, horsing in haste,\n And crackin\u2019 of whips out owre the lee;\n Until they cam to Dumfries port[1214],\n And they lighted there right speedilie.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018There\u2019s five of us will hold the horse,\n And other five will watchmen be:\n But wha\u2019s the man among ye a\u2019,\n Will gae to the tolbooth[1215] door wi\u2019 me?\u2019--\n\n XVIII\n\n O up then spak him mettled John Ha\u2019,\n (For leugh o\u2019 Liddesdale crackit he):\n \u2018If it should cost my life this very night,\n I\u2019ll gae to the tolbooth door wi\u2019 thee.\u2019--\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018Be of gude cheir, now, Archie, lad!\n Be of gude cheir, now, dear billie!\n Work thou within, and we without,\n And the morn thou\u2019se dine at Ca\u2019field wi\u2019 me!\u2019\n\n XX\n\n O Jockie Ha\u2019 stepp\u2019d to the door,\n And he bended low back on his knee,\n And he made the bolts that the door hang on,\n Loup frae the wa\u2019 right wantonlie.\n\n XXI\n\n He took the prisoner on his back,\n And down the tolbooth stair cam he;\n The black mare stood ready at the door,\n I wot a foot ne\u2019er stirr\u00e8d she.\n\n XXII\n\n They laid the links out owre her neck,\n And that was her gold twist to be;\n And they cam doun thro\u2019 Dumfries toun,\n And wow but they cam speedilie.\n\n XXIII\n\n The live-lang night these twelve men rade,\n And aye till they were right wearie,\n Until they cam to the Murraywhat,\n And they lighted there right speedilie.\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018A smith! a smith!\u2019 then Dickie he cries,\n \u2018A smith, a smith, right speedilie,\n To file the irons frae my dear brither!\n For forward, forward we wad be.\u2019--\n\n XXV\n\n They hadna filed a shackle of iron,\n A shackle of iron but barely three,\n When out and spak young Simon brave:\n \u2018O dinna you see what I do see?\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018Lo! yonder comes Lieutenant Gordon,\n Wi\u2019 a hundred men in his companie;\n This night will be our lyke-wake night,\n The morn the day we a\u2019 maun die.\u2019--\n\n XXVII\n\n O there was mounting, mounting in haste,\n And cracking of whips out owre the lee;\n Until they cam to Annan water,\n And it was flowing like the sea.\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018My mare is young and very skeigh[1216],\n And in o\u2019 the weil[1217] she will drown me!\u2019--\n \u2018But ye\u2019ll take mine, and I\u2019ll take thine,\n And sune through the water we sall be.\u2019\n\n XXIX\n\n Then up and spak him coarse Ca\u2019field\n (I wot and little gude worth was he),\n \u2018We had better lose ane than lose a\u2019 the lave[1218];\n We\u2019ll lose the prisoner, we\u2019ll gae free.\u2019--\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018Shame fa\u2019 you and your lands baith!\n Wad ye e\u2019en[1219] your lands to your born billy?\n But hey! bear up, my bonnie black mare,\n And yet thro\u2019 the water we sall be.\u2019--\n\n XXXI\n\n Now they did swim that wan water,\n And wow but they swam bonnilie!\n Until they cam to the other side,\n And they wrang their cloathes right drunkily.\n\n XXXII\n\n \u2018Come thro\u2019, come thro\u2019, Lieutenant Gordon!\n Come thro\u2019 and drink some wine wi\u2019 me!\n For there is an ale-house here hard by,\n And it shall not cost thee ae penny.\u2019--\n\n XXXIII\n\n \u2018Throw me my irons,\u2019 quo\u2019 Lieutenant Gordon;\n \u2018I wot they cost me dear eneugh.\u2019--\n \u2018The shame a ma[1220],\u2019 quo\u2019 mettled John Ha\u2019,\n \u2018They\u2019ll be gude shackles to my pleugh.\u2019--\n\n XXXIV\n\n \u2018Come thro\u2019, come thro\u2019, Lieutenant Gordon!\n Come thro\u2019 and drink some wine wi\u2019 me!\n Yestreen I was your prisoner,\n But now this morning am I free.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1206] billy = brother, comrade.\n\n[1207] well-wight = stout, sturdy.\n\n[1208] For leugh, etc. = He boasted to be of lower Liddesdale. \u03b5\u1f54\u03c7\u03b5\u03c4\u03bf\n\u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9.\n\n[1209] caukers = calkins.\n\n[1210] unkensome = unknown.\n\n[1211] beet = abet, aid.\n\n[1212] mystery = craft.\n\n[1213] leeze me on = commend me to.\n\n[1214] port = gate.\n\n[1215] tolbooth = gaol.\n\n[1216] skeigh = shy.\n\n[1217] weil = eddy.\n\n[1218] lave = rest.\n\n[1219] e\u2019en = even, count as equal.\n\n[1220] shame a ma = devil a bit.\n\n\n\n\n_141. Jamie Telfer in the Fair Dodhead_\n\n\n I\n\n It fell about the Martinmas tyde,\n When our Border steeds get corn and hay,\n The Captain of Bewcastle bound him to ryde,\n And he\u2019s ower to Tividale to drive a prey.\n\n II\n\n The first ae guide that they met wi\u2019,\n It was high up in Hardhaughswire;\n The second guide that they met wi\u2019,\n It was laigh[1221] down in Borthwick water.\n\n III\n\n \u2018What tidings, what tidings, my trusty guide?\u2019--\n \u2018Nae tidings, nae tidings, I hae to thee;\n But gin ye\u2019ll gae to the fair Dodhead,\n Mony a cow\u2019s cauf I\u2019ll let thee see.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n And when they cam to the fair Dodhead,\n Right hastily they clam the peel[1222];\n They loosed the kye out, ane and a\u2019,\n And ranshackled the house right weel.\n\n V\n\n Now Jamie Telfer\u2019s heart was sair,\n The tear aye rowing[1223] in his ee;\n He pled wi\u2019 the Captain to hae his gear,\n Or else reveng\u00e8d he wad be.\n\n VI\n\n The Captain turned him round and leugh;\n Said--\u2018Man, there\u2019s naething in thy house,\n But ae auld sword without a sheath,\n That hardly now would fell a mouse.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n The sun wasna up, but the moon was down,\n It was the gryming[1224] of a new-fa\u2019n snaw,\n Jamie Telfer has run ten myles a-foot,\n Between the Dodhead and the Stobs\u2019s Ha\u2019.\n\n VIII\n\n And when he cam to the fair tower-yate,\n He shouted loud, and cried weel hie,\n Till out bespak auld Gibby Elliot--\n \u2018Whae\u2019s this that brings the fraye[1225] to me?\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018It\u2019s I, Jamie Telfer in the fair Dodhead,\n And a harried man I think I be!\n There\u2019s naething left at the fair Dodhead,\n But a waefu\u2019 wife and bairnies three.\u2019\n\n X\n\n \u2018Gae seek your succour at Branksome Ha\u2019,\n For succour ye\u2019se get nane frae me!\n Gae seek your succour where ye paid black-mail,\n For, man, ye ne\u2019er paid money to me.\u2019--\n\n XI\n\n Jamie has turned him round about,\n I wat the tear blinded his ee--\n \u2018I\u2019ll ne\u2019er pay mail to Elliot again,\n And the fair Dodhead I\u2019ll never see.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018My hounds may a\u2019 rin masterless,\n My hawks may fly frae tree to tree,\n My lord may grip my vassal lands,\n For there again maun I never be!\u2019--\n\n XIII\n\n He has turn\u2019d him to the Tiviot-side,\n E\u2019en as fast as he could drie,\n Till he cam to the Coultart Cleugh,\n And there he shouted baith loud and hie.\n\n XIV\n\n Then up bespak him auld Jock Grieve,\n \u2018Whae\u2019s this that brings the fraye to me?\u2019--\n \u2018It\u2019s I, Jamie Telfer in the fair Dodhead,\n A harried man I trow I be.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018There\u2019s naething left in the fair Dodhead,\n But a greeting wife and bairnies three,\n And sax poor ca\u2019s[1226] stand in the sta\u2019,\n A\u2019 routing loud for their minnie[1227].\u2019--\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018Alack a wae!\u2019 quo\u2019 auld Jock Grieve,\n \u2018Alack! my heart is sair for thee!\n For I was married on the elder sister,\n And you on the youngest of a\u2019 the three.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n Then he has ta\u2019en out a bonny black,\n Was right weel fed with corn and hay,\n And he\u2019s set Jamie Telfer on his back,\n To the Catslockhill to tak the fraye.\n\n XVIII\n\n And whan he cam to the Catslockhill,\n He shouted loud, and cried weel hie,\n Till out and spak him William\u2019s Wat,\n \u2018O whae\u2019s this brings the fraye to me?\u2019--\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018It\u2019s I, Jamie Telfer in the fair Dodhead,\n A harried man I think I be!\n The Captain of Bewcastle has driven my gear;\n For God\u2019s sake rise, and succour me!\u2019--\n\n XX\n\n \u2018Alas for wae!\u2019 quoth William\u2019s Wat,\n \u2018Alack, for thee my heart is sair!\n I never cam by the fair Dodhead,\n That ever I fand thy basket bare.\u2019\n\n XXI\n\n He\u2019s set his twa sons on coal-black steeds,\n Himsell upon a freckled gray,\n And they are on wi\u2019 Jamie Telfer,\n To Branksome Ha\u2019 to tak the fraye.\n\n XXII\n\n And when they cam to Branksome Ha\u2019,\n They shouted a\u2019 baith loud and hie,\n Till up and spak him auld Buccleuch,\n Said, \u2018Whae\u2019s this brings the fraye to me?\u2019--\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018It\u2019s I, Jamie Telfer in the fair Dodhead,\n And a harried man I think I be!\n There\u2019s nought left in the fair Dodhead,\n But a greeting wife and bairnies three.\u2019--\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018Alack for wae!\u2019 quoth the gude auld lord,\n \u2018And ever my heart is wae for thee!\n But fye gar cry on Willie, my son,\n And see that he come to me speedilie!\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018Gar warn the water[1228], braid and wide,\n Gar warn it sune and hastilie!\n They that winna ride for Telfer\u2019s kye,\n Let them never look in the face o\u2019 me!\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018Warn Wat o\u2019 Harden, and his sons,\n Wi\u2019 them will Borthwick Water ride;\n Warn Gaudilands, and Allanhaugh,\n And Gilmanscleugh, and Commonside.\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018Ride by the gate at Priesthaughswire,\n And warn the Currors o\u2019 the Lee;\n As ye cum down the Hermitage Slack,\n Warn doughty Willie o\u2019 Gorrinberry.\u2019\n\n XXVIII\n\n The Scotts they rade, the Scotts they ran,\n Sae starkly and sae steadilie!\n And aye the ower-word o\u2019 the thrang\n Was--\u2018Rise for Branksome readilie!\u2019\n\n XXIX\n\n The gear was driven the Frostylee up,\n Frae the Frostylee unto the plain,\n Whan Willie has look\u2019d his men before,\n And saw the kye right fast drivand.\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018Whae drives thir kye?\u2019 \u2019gan Willie say,\n \u2018To make an outspeckle[1229] o\u2019 me?\u2019--\n \u2018It\u2019s I, the Captain o\u2019 Bewcastle, Willie;\n I winna layne[1230] my name for thee.\u2019--\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018O will ye let Telfer\u2019s kye gae back?\n Or will ye do aught for regard o\u2019 me?\n Or, by the faith of my body,\u2019 quo\u2019 Willie Scott,\n \u2018I\u2019se ware my dame\u2019s cauf skin[1231] on thee!--\n\n XXXII\n\n \u2018I winna let the kye gae back,\n Neither for thy love, nor yet thy fear;\n But I will drive Jamie Telfer\u2019s kye,\n In spite of every Scott that\u2019s here.\u2019--\n\n XXXIII\n\n \u2018Set on them, lads!\u2019 quo\u2019 Willie than;\n \u2018Fye, lads, set on them cruellie!\n For ere they win to the Ritterford,\n Mony a toom[1232] saddle there sall be!\u2019\n\n XXXIV\n\n Then till \u2019t[1233] they gaed wi\u2019 heart and hand,\n The blows fell thick as bickering hail;\n And mony a horse ran masterless,\n And mony a comely cheek was pale.\n\n XXXV\n\n But Willie was stricken ower the head,\n And thro\u2019 the knapscap[1234] the sword has gane;\n And Harden grat[1235] for very rage,\n Whan Willie on the grund lay slane.\n\n XXXVI\n\n But he\u2019s ta\u2019en aff his gude steel cap,\n And thrice he\u2019s waved it in the air--\n The Dinlay snaw was ne\u2019er mair white\n Nor the lyart[1236] locks of Harden\u2019s hair.\n\n XXXVII\n\n \u2018Revenge! revenge!\u2019 auld Wat \u2019gan cry;\n \u2018Fye, lads, lay on them cruellie!\n We\u2019ll ne\u2019er see Tiviot-side again,\n Or Willie\u2019s death revenged sall be.\u2019\n\n XXXVIII\n\n O mony a horse ran masterless,\n The splinter\u2019d lances flew on hie;\n But or they wan to the Kershope ford,\n The Scotts had gotten the victory.\n\n XXXIX\n\n John o\u2019 Brigham there was slane,\n And John o\u2019 Barlow, as I heard say;\n And thirty mae o\u2019 the Captain\u2019s men\n Lay bleeding on the grund that day.\n\n XL\n\n The Captain was run through the thick of the thigh,\n And broken was his right leg-bane;\n If he had lived this hundred years,\n He had never been loved by woman again.\n\n XLI\n\n \u2018Hae back the kye!\u2019 the Captain said;\n \u2018Dear kye, I trow, to some they be!\n For gin I suld live a hundred years,\n There will ne\u2019er fair lady smile on me.\u2019\n\n XLII\n\n Then word is gane to the Captain\u2019s bride,\n Even in the bower where that she lay,\n That her lord was prisoner in enemy\u2019s land,\n Since into Tividale he had led the way.\n\n XLIII\n\n \u2018I wad lourd[1237] have had a winding-sheet,\n And helped to put it ower his head,\n Ere he had been disgraced by the Border Scot,\n Whan he ower Liddel his men did lead!\u2019\n\n XLIV\n\n There was a wild gallant amang us a\u2019,\n His name was Watty wi\u2019 the Wudspurs[1238],\n Cried--\u2018On for his house in Stanegirthside,\n If ony man will ride with us!\u2019\n\n XLV\n\n When they cam to the Stanegirthside,\n They dang wi\u2019 trees, and burst the door;\n They loosed out a\u2019 the Captain\u2019s kye,\n And set them forth our lads before.\n\n XLVI\n\n There was an auld wyfe ayont the fire,\n A wee bit o\u2019 the Captain\u2019s kin--\n \u2018Whae dar loose out the Captain\u2019s kye,\n Or answer to him and his men?\u2019--\n\n XLVII\n\n \u2018It\u2019s I, Watty Wudspurs, loose the kye,\n I winna layne my name frae thee!\n And I will loose out the Captain\u2019s kye,\n In scorn of a\u2019 his men and he.\u2019\n\n XLVIII\n\n Whan they cam to the fair Dodhead,\n They were a wellcum sight to see!\n For instead of his ain ten milk kye,\n Jamie Telfer has gotten thirty and three.\n\n XLIX\n\n And he has paid the rescue shot,\n Baith wi\u2019 gowd and white monie;\n And at the burial o\u2019 Willie Scott,\n I wat was mony a weeping e\u2019e.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1221] laigh = low.\n\n[1222] peel = stronghold, keep.\n\n[1223] rowing = rolling.\n\n[1224] gryming = sprinkling.\n\n[1225] fraye = fright, alarm.\n\n[1226] ca\u2019s = calves.\n\n[1227] minnie = mother.\n\n[1228] warn the water = raise the cry along the waterside.\n\n[1229] outspeckle = laughing-stock.\n\n[1230] layne = lie, falsen.\n\n[1231] ware, &c. = spend, use my mother\u2019s calf-skin whip.\n\n[1232] toom = empty.\n\n[1233] till \u2019t = to it.\n\n[1234] knapscap = headpiece.\n\n[1235] grat = wept.\n\n[1236] lyart = grizzled.\n\n[1237] lourd = liefer, rather.\n\n[1238] wudspurs = hotspur, or madspur.\n\n\n\n\n_142. Dick o\u2019 the Cow_\n\n\n I\n\n Now Liddesdale has lain lang in,\n There is na ryding[1239] there at a\u2019;\n The horses are a\u2019 grown sae lither[1240] fat,\n They downa stir out o\u2019 the sta\u2019.\n\n II\n\n Fair Johnie Armstrong to Willie did say--\n \u2018Billie, a-ryding then will we;\n England and us have been lang at feid;\n Aiblins[1241] we\u2019ll light on some bootie.\u2019--\n\n III\n\n Then they\u2019re come on to Hutton Ha\u2019;\n They rade that proper place about.\n But the Laird he was the wiser man,\n For he had left nae gear without:\n\n IV\n\n For he had left nae gear to steal,\n Except sax sheep upon a lea:\n Quo\u2019 Johnie--\u2018I\u2019d rather in England die,\n Ere thir sax sheep gae to Liddesdale wi\u2019 me.\n\n V\n\n \u2018But how ca\u2019 they the man we last met,\n Billie, as we cam owre the know[1242]?\u2019--\n \u2018That same he is an innocent fule,\n And men they call him Dick o\u2019 the Cow.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n \u2018That fule has three as good kye o\u2019 his ain,\n As there are in a\u2019 Cumberland, billie,\u2019 quo\u2019 he.\n \u2018Betide me life, betide me death,\n These kye shall go to Liddesdale wi\u2019 me.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n Then they\u2019re come on to the pure fule\u2019s house,\n And they hae broken his wa\u2019s sae wide;\n They have loosed out Dick o\u2019 the Cow\u2019s three kye,\n And ta\u2019en three co\u2019erlets off his wife\u2019s bed.\n\n VIII\n\n Then on the morn when the day grew light,\n The shouts and cries raise loud and hie:\n \u2018O haud thy tongue, my wife,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018And o\u2019 thy crying let me be!\n\n IX\n\n \u2018O haud thy tongue, my wife,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018And o\u2019 thy crying let me be;\n And aye where thou hast lost ae cow,\n In gude sooth I shall bring thee three.\u2019\n\n X\n\n Now Dickie\u2019s gane to the gude Lord Scroope,\n And I wat a dreirie fule was he;\n \u2018Now haud thy tongue, my fule,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018For I may not stand to jest wi\u2019 thee.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Shame fa\u2019 your jesting, my lord!\u2019 quo\u2019 Dickie,\n \u2018For nae sic jesting grees wi\u2019 me;\n Liddesdale\u2019s been in my house last night,\n And they hae awa\u2019 my three kye frae me.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018But I may nae langer in Cumberland dwell,\n To be your puir fule and your leal,\n Unless you gie me leave, my lord,\n To gae to Liddesdale and steal\u2019--\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018I gie thee leave, my fule!\u2019 he says;\n \u2018Thou speakest against my honour and me,\n Unless thou gie me thy troth and thy hand,\n Thou\u2019lt steal frae nane but wha sta\u2019 frae thee.\u2019--\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018There is my troth, and my right hand!\n My head shall hang on Hairibee[1243];\n I\u2019ll never cross Carlisle sands again,\n If I steal frae a man but wha sta\u2019 frae me.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n Dickie\u2019s ta\u2019en leave o\u2019 lord and master;\n I wat a merry fule was he!\n He\u2019s bought a bridle and a pair o\u2019 new spurs,\n And packed them up in his breek thie[1244].\n\n XVI\n\n Then Dickie\u2019s come on to Puddingburn house,\n Even as fast as he might dree[1245]:\n Then Dickie\u2019s come on to Puddingburn,\n Where there were thirty Armstrangs and three.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018O what\u2019s this come o\u2019 me now?\u2019 quo\u2019 Dickie;\n \u2018What mickle wae is this?\u2019 quo\u2019 he,\n \u2018For here is but ae innocent fule,\n And there are thirty Armstrangs and three!\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n Yet he has come up to the fair ha\u2019 board,\n Sae well he became his courtesie!\n \u2018Well may ye be, my gude Laird\u2019s Jock!\n But the d\u00e8il bless a\u2019 your companie.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018I\u2019m come to plain[1246] o\u2019 your man, Johnie Armstrang,\n And syne o\u2019 his billie Willie,\u2019 quo\u2019 he;\n \u2018How they hae been in my house last night,\n And they hae ta\u2019en my three kye frae me.\u2019--\n\n XX\n\n \u2018Ha!\u2019 quo\u2019 Johnie Armstrang, \u2018we will him hang.\u2019\n --\u2018Na,\u2019 quo\u2019 Willie, \u2018we\u2019ll him slae.\u2019--\n Then up and spak another young Armstrang,\n \u2018We\u2019ll gie him his batts[1247], and let him gae.\u2019\n\n XXI\n\n But up and spak the gude Laird\u2019s Jock,\n The best in a\u2019 the companie,\n \u2018Sit down thy ways a little while, Dickie,\n And a piece o\u2019 thy ain cow\u2019s hough I\u2019ll gie ye.\u2019\n\n XXII\n\n But Dickie\u2019s heart it grew sae grit[1248],\n That the ne\u2019er a bit o\u2019t he dought to[1249] eat--\n Then he was aware of in auld peat-house,\n Where a\u2019 the night he thought for to sleep\n\n XXIII\n\n Then Dickie was ware of an auld peat-house,\n Where a\u2019 the night he thought for to lye--\n And a\u2019 the prayers the puir fule pray\u2019d,\n Were, \u2018I wish I had mends[1250] for my gude three kye!\u2019\n\n XXIV\n\n It was then the use of Puddingburn house,\n And the house of Mangerton, all hail,\n Them that cam na it the first ca\u2019,\n Gat nae mair meat till the neist meal.\n\n XXV\n\n The lads, that hungry and weary were,\n Abune the door-head they threw the key;\n Dickie he took gude notice o\u2019 that,\n Says--\u2018There will be a bootie for me.\u2019\n\n XXVI\n\n Then Dickie has into the stable gane,\n Where there stood thirty horses and three;\n He has tied them a\u2019 wi\u2019 St. Mary\u2019s knot[1251],\n A\u2019 these horses but barely three.\n\n XXVII\n\n He has tied them a\u2019 wi\u2019 St. Mary\u2019s knot,\n A\u2019 these horses but barely three;\n He\u2019s loupen on ane, ta\u2019en another in hand,\n And out at the door is gane Dickie.\n\n XXVIII\n\n But on the morn, when the day grew light,\n The shouts and cries raise loud and hie\n \u2018Ah! wha has done this?\u2019 quo\u2019 the gude Laird\u2019s Jock,\n \u2018Tell me the truth and the verity!\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018Wha has done this deed?\u2019 quo\u2019 the gude Laird\u2019s Jock;\n \u2018See that to me ye dinna lee!\u2019--\n \u2018Dickie has been in the stable last night,\n And my brother\u2019s horse and mine\u2019s frae me.\u2019--\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018Ye wad ne\u2019er be tauld,\u2019 quo\u2019 the gude Laird\u2019s Jock;\n \u2018Have ye not found my tales fu\u2019 leil?\n Ye never wad out o\u2019 England bide,\n Till crooked and blind and a\u2019 would steal.\u2019--\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018But lend me thy bay,\u2019 fair Johnie can say;\n \u2018There\u2019s nae horse loose in the stable save he;\n And I\u2019ll either fetch Dick o\u2019 the Cow again,\n Or the day is come that he shall dee.\u2019--\n\n XXXII\n\n \u2018To lend thee my bay!\u2019 the Laird\u2019s Jock \u2019gan say;\n \u2018He\u2019s baith worth gowd and gude monie.\n Dick o\u2019 the Cow has awa\u2019 twa horse:\n I wish na thou may make him three.\u2019\n\n XXXIII\n\n He his ta\u2019en the laird\u2019s jack[1252] on his back,\n A twa-handed sword to hang by his thie;\n He has ta\u2019en a steel cap on his head,\n And on he is to follow Dickie.\n\n XXXIV\n\n Dickie was na a mile aff the town,\n I wat a mile but barely three,\n When he was o\u2019erta\u2019en by Johnie Armstrong,\n Hand for hand, on Cannobie lee.\n\n XXXV\n\n \u2018Abide, abide, thou traitour thiefe!\n The day is come that thou maun dee!\u2019\n Then Dickie look\u2019t ower his left shoulder,\n --\u2018Johnie, hast thou nae mae in thy companie?\n\n XXXVI\n\n \u2018There is a preacher in our chapell,\n And a\u2019 the lee-lang day teaches he:\n When day is gane and night is come,\n There\u2019s ne\u2019er a word I mark but three.\n\n XXXVII\n\n \u2018The first and second is--_Faith_ and _Conscience_;\n The third--_Johnie, take heed o\u2019 thee!_\n But, Johnie, what faith and conscience was thine,\n When thou took awa\u2019 my three kye frae me?\n\n XXXVIII\n\n \u2018And when thou had ta\u2019en awa\u2019 my three kye,\n Thou thought in thy heart thou wast no well sped,\n Till thou sent thy billie owre the know,\n To tak three co\u2019erlets off my wife\u2019s bed!\u2019--\n\n XXXIX\n\n Then Johnie let a spear fa\u2019 laigh[1253] by his thie,\n Thought weel to hae run the innocent through,\n But the powers above were mair than he,\n For he ran but the pure fule\u2019s jerkin through.\n\n XL\n\n Together they ran, or ever they blan[1254];\n This was Dickie the fule and he!\n Dickie couldna win at him wi\u2019 the blade o\u2019 the sword,\n But fell\u2019d him wi\u2019 the plummet[1255] under the ee.\n\n XLI\n\n Thus Dickie has fell\u2019d fair Johnie Armstrong,\n The prettiest man in the south country:\n \u2018Gramercy!\u2019 then \u2019gan Dickie say,\n \u2018I had but twa horse, thou hast made me three!\u2019\n\n XLII\n\n He\u2019s ta\u2019en the laird\u2019s jack aff Johnie\u2019s back,\n The twa-handed sword that hung low by his thie;\n He\u2019s ta\u2019en the steel cap aff his head--\n \u2018Johnie, I\u2019ll tell that I met wi\u2019 thee.\u2019\n\n XLIII\n\n When Johnie waken\u2019d out o\u2019 his dream,\n I wat a dreirie man was he:\n \u2018And is thou gane? Now, Dickie, than\n The shame and dule is left wi\u2019 me.\n\n XLIV\n\n \u2018And is thou gane? Now, Dickie, than\n The deil gae in thy companie!\n For if I should live these hundred years,\n I ne\u2019er shall fight wi\u2019 a fule after thee.\u2019\n\n XLV\n\n Then Dickie\u2019s come hame to the gude Lord Scroope,\n E\u2019en as fast as he might hie;\n \u2018Now, Dickie, I\u2019ll neither eat nor drink,\n Till hie hang\u00e8d that thou shall be.\u2019--\n\n XLVI\n\n \u2018The shame speed the liars, my lord!\u2019 quo\u2019 Dickie;\n \u2018This was na the promise ye made to me!\n For I\u2019d ne\u2019er gang to Liddesdale to steal,\n Had I not got my leave frae thee.\u2019--\n\n XLVII\n\n \u2018But what gar\u2019d thee steal the Laird\u2019s Jock\u2019s horse?\n And, limmer, what gar\u2019d ye steal him?\u2019 quo\u2019 he;\n \u2018For lang thou mightst in Cumberland dwelt\n Or the Laird\u2019s Jock had stown aught frae thee.\u2019--\n\n XLVIII\n\n \u2018Indeed I wat ye lied, my lord!\n And e\u2019en sae loud as I hear ye lie!\n I wan the horse frae fair Johnie Armstrang,\n Hand to hand, on Cannobie lee.\n\n XLIX\n\n \u2018There is the jack was on his back;\n This twa-handed sword hung laigh by his thie;\n And there\u2019s the steel cap was on his head;\n I brought a\u2019 these tokens to let thee see.\u2019--\n\n L\n\n \u2018If that be true thou to me tells\n (And I think thou dares na tell me a lee),\n I\u2019ll gie thee fifteen punds for the horse,\n Well tauld on thy cloak lap they shall be.\n\n LI\n\n \u2018I\u2019ll gie thee ane o\u2019 my best milk kye,\n To maintain thy wife and children three;\n And that may be as gude, I think,\n As ony twa o\u2019 thine wad be.\u2019--\n\n LII\n\n \u2018The shame speed the liars, my lord!\u2019 quo\u2019 Dickie;\n \u2018Trow ye aye to make a fule o\u2019 me?\n I\u2019ll either hae twenty punds for the gude horse,\n Or he\u2019s gae to Mortan Fair wi\u2019 me.\u2019\n\n LIII\n\n He\u2019s gi\u2019en him twenty punds for the gude horse,\n A\u2019 in the goud and gude monie;\n He\u2019s gi\u2019en him ane o\u2019 his best milk kye,\n To maintain his wife and children three.\n\n LIV\n\n Then Dickie\u2019s come down thro\u2019 Carlisle toun,\n E\u2019en as fast as he could drie:\n The first o\u2019 men that he met wi\u2019\n Was my Lord\u2019s brother, Bailiff Glozenburrie.\n\n LV\n\n \u2018Weil be ye met, my gude Ralph Scroope!\u2019--\n \u2018Welcome, my brother\u2019s fule!\u2019 quo\u2019 he;\n \u2018Where didst thou get Johnie Armstrang\u2019s horse?\u2019--\n \u2018Where did I get him, but steal him,\u2019 quo\u2019 he.\n\n LVI\n\n \u2018But wilt thou sell me the bonny horse?\n And, billie, wilt thou sell him to me?\u2019 quo\u2019 he.--\n \u2018Ay; if thou\u2019lt tell me the monie on my cloak lap:\n For there\u2019s never ae penny I\u2019ll trust thee.\u2019--\n\n LVII\n\n \u2018I\u2019ll gie thee ten punds for the gude horse,\n Weil tauld on thy cloak lap they shall be;\n And I\u2019ll gie thee ane o\u2019 the best milk kye,\n To maintain thy wife and children three.\u2019--\n\n LVIII\n\n \u2018The shame speed the liars, my lord!\u2019 quo\u2019 Dickie;\n \u2018Trow ye aye to make a fule o\u2019 me!\n I\u2019ll either hae twenty punds for the gude horse,\n Or he\u2019s gae to Mortan Fair wi\u2019 me.\u2019--\n\n LIX\n\n He\u2019s gi\u2019en him twenty punds for the gude horse,\n Baith in goud and gude monie;\n He\u2019s gi\u2019en him ane o\u2019 his milk kye,\n To maintain his wife and children three.\n\n LX\n\n Then Dickie lap a loup[1256] fu\u2019 hie,\n And I wat a loud laugh laugh\u00e8d he:\n \u2018I wish the neck o\u2019 the third horse was broken,\n If ony of the twa were better than he!\u2019\n\n LXI\n\n Then Dickie\u2019s come hame to his wife again;\n Judge ye how the puir fule had sped!\n He has gi\u2019en her twa score English punds,\n For the three auld co\u2019erlets ta\u2019en aff her bed.\n\n LXII\n\n \u2018And tak thee these twa as gude kye,\n I trow, as a\u2019 thy three might be;\n And yet here is a white-footed nag,\n I trow he\u2019ll carry baith thee and me.\n\n LXIII\n\n \u2018But I may nae langer in Cumberland bide;\n The Armstrangs they would hang me hie.\u2019--\n So Dickie\u2019s ta\u2019en leave at lord and master,\n And at Burgh under Stanmuir dwells Dickie.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1239] ryding = raiding.\n\n[1240] lither = _here an adverb_, vilely.\n\n[1241] aiblins = perchance.\n\n[1242] know = knop of the hill.\n\n[1243] Hairibee = the place of execution at Carlisle.\n\n[1244] breek thie = thigh-pocket of his breeches.\n\n[1245] dree = last, endure.\n\n[1246] plain = complain.\n\n[1247] batts = beating.\n\n[1248] grit = great i. e. his heart swelled so.\n\n[1249] dought to = could.\n\n[1250] mends = amends.\n\n[1251] tied wi\u2019 St Mary\u2019s knot = hamstrung.\n\n[1252] jack = short coat of mail.\n\n[1253] laigh = low.\n\n[1254] blan = checked, stopped.\n\n[1255] plummet = pommel.\n\n[1256] lap a loup = leapt a leap.\n\n\n\n\n_143. Hughie the Graeme_\n\n\n I\n\n Gude Lord Scroope\u2019s to the hunting gane,\n He has ridden o\u2019er moss and muir;\n And he has grippit Hughie the Graeme,\n For stealing o\u2019 the Bishop\u2019s mare.\n\n II\n\n \u2018Now, good Lord Scroope, this may not be!\n Here hangs a broadsword by my side;\n And if that thou canst conquer me,\n The matter it may soon be tryed.\u2019--\n\n III\n\n \u2018I ne\u2019er was afraid of a traitor thief;\n Although thy name be Hughie the Graeme,\n I\u2019ll make thee repent thee of thy deeds,\n If God but grant me life and time.\u2019--\n\n IV\n\n \u2018Then do your worst now, good Lord Scroope,\n And deal your blows as hard as you can!\n It shall be tried within an hour,\n Which of us two is the better man.\u2019--\n\n V\n\n But as they were dealing their blows so free,\n And both so bloody at the time,\n Over the moss came ten yeomen so tall,\n All for to take brave Hughie the Graeme.\n\n VI\n\n Then they hae grippit Hughie the Graeme,\n And brought him up through Carlisle town:\n The lasses and lads stood on the walls,\n Crying, \u2018Hughie the Graeme, thou\u2019se ne\u2019er gae down!\u2019\n\n VII\n\n Then they hae chosen a jury of men,\n The best that were in Carlisle town;\n And twelve of them cried out at once,\n \u2018Hughie the Graeme, thou must gae down!\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n Then up bespak him gude Lord Hume,\n As he sat by the judge\u2019s knee;\n \u2018Twenty white owsen, my gude lord,\n If you\u2019ll grant Hughie the Graeme to me.\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018O no, O no, my gude Lord Hume!\n For sooth and sae it mauna be;\n For, were there but three Graemes of the name,\n They suld be hang\u00e8d a\u2019 for me.\u2019--\n\n X\n\n \u2019Twas up and spake the gude Lady Hume,\n As she sat by the judge\u2019s knee;\n \u2018A peck of white pennies, my gude lord judge,\n If you\u2019ll grant Hughie the Graeme to me!\u2019--\n\n XI\n\n \u2018O no, O no, my gude Lady Hume,\n Forsooth and so it must na be;\n Were he but the one Graeme of the name,\n He suld be hang\u00e8d high for me.\u2019--\n\n XII\n\n \u2018If I be guilty,\u2019 said Hughie the Graeme,\n \u2018Of me my friends shall have small talk\u2019;\n And he\u2019s loup\u00e8d fifteen feet and three,\n Though his hands they were tied behind his back.\n\n XIII\n\n He look\u00e8d over his left shoulder,\n And for to see what he might see;\n There was he aware of his auld father,\n Came tearing his hair most piteouslie.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018O hald your tongue, my father,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018And see that ye dinna weep for me!\n For they may ravish me o\u2019 my life,\n But they canna banish me fro\u2019 Heaven hie.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Here, Johnie Armstrang, take thou my sword,\n That is made o\u2019 the metal sae fine;\n And when thou comest to the English side,\n Remember the death of Hughie the Graeme.\u2019\n\n\n\n\n_144. The Lochmaben Harper_\n\n\n I\n\n O heard ye na o\u2019 the silly blind Harper,\n How long he lived in Lochmaben town?\n And how he wad gang to fair England,\n To steal King Henry\u2019s Wanton Brown?\n\n II\n\n But first he gaed to his gude wyfe,\n Wi\u2019 a\u2019 the haste that he could thole[1257]--\n \u2018This wark,\u2019 quo\u2019 he, \u2018will ne\u2019er gae weel,\n Without a mare that has a foal.\u2019--\n\n III\n\n Quo\u2019 she, \u2018Thou hast a gude gray mare,\n That\u2019ll rin o\u2019er hills baith laigh[1258] and hie;\n Sae set thee on the gray mare\u2019s back,\n And leave the foal at hame wi\u2019 me.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n So he is up to England gane,\n And even as fast as he can hie;\n And when he cam to Carlisle gate,\n O whae was there but the King Henrye?\n\n V\n\n \u2018Come into my hall, thou silly blind Harper,\n And of thy harping let me hear!\u2019--\n \u2018O, by my sooth,\u2019 quo\u2019 the silly blind Harper,\n \u2018I\u2019d rather hae stabling for my mare.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n The King look\u2019d ower his left shoulder,\n And said unto his stable groom;\n \u2018Gae take the silly blind Harper\u2019s mare,\n And tie her beside my Wanton Brown.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n Then aye he harpit, and aye he carpit[1259],\n Till a\u2019 the lordlings footed the floor;\n They thought the music was sae sweet,\n They had nae mind o\u2019 the stable door.\n\n VIII\n\n And aye he harpit, and aye he carpit,\n Till a\u2019 the nobles were fast asleep;\n Then quietly he took aff his shoon,\n And saftly down the stair did creep.\n\n IX\n\n Syne to the stable door he hied,\n Wi\u2019 tread as light as light could be;\n And when he open\u2019d and gaed in,\n There he fand thirty steeds and three.\n\n X\n\n He took a colt halter frae his hose,\n And o\u2019 his purpose he didna fail;\n He slipt it owre the Wanton\u2019s nose,\n And tied it to his gray mare\u2019s tail.\n\n XI\n\n He turn\u2019d them loose at the castle gate,\n Owre muir and moss and ilka dale;\n And she ne\u2019er let the Wanton bait,\n But kept him still gaun to her tail.\n\n XII\n\n The mare she was right swift o\u2019 foot,\n She didna fail to find the way;\n For she was at Lochmaben gate\n Fu\u2019 lang three hours before the day.\n\n XIII\n\n When she came to the Harper\u2019s door,\n There she gave mony a nicker and sneer[1260]--\n \u2018Rise up,\u2019 quo\u2019 the wife, \u2018thou lazy lass;\n Let in thy master and his mare!\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n Then up she rose, put on her clothes,\n And keekit out through the lock-hole--\n \u2018O! by my sooth,\u2019 then cried the lass,\n \u2018Our mare has gotten a braw brown foal!\u2019--\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Come haud thy tongue, thou foolish lass!\n The moon\u2019s but glancing in your ee.\n I\u2019ll wad my hail fee[1261] against a groat,\n He\u2019s bigger than e\u2019er our foal will be.\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n Now all this while in merry Carlisle\n The Harper harpit to hie and law;\n And the fiend dought they do[1262] but listen him to,\n Until that the day began to daw.\n\n XVII\n\n But on the morn at fair daylight,\n When they had ended a\u2019 their cheer,\n Behold the Wanton Brown was gane,\n And eke the poor blind Harper\u2019s mare!\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018Allace! allace!\u2019 quo\u2019 the silly blind Harper,\n \u2018And ever allace that I cam here!\n In Scotland I\u2019ve tint a braw colt foal,\n In England they\u2019ve stown my gude gray mare!\u2019--\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018Come! cease thy allacing, thou silly blind Harper,\n And again of thy harping let us hear;\n And weel paid sall thy colt-foal be,\n And thou sall have a far better mare.\u2019\n\n XX\n\n Then aye he harpit, and aye he carpit,\n Sae sweet were the harpings he let them hear!\n He was paid for the foal he had never lost,\n And three times ower for the gude gray mare.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1257] thole = suffer, be capable of.\n\n[1258] laigh = low.\n\n[1259] carpit = sang, recited.\n\n[1260] nicker and sneer = whinny and snort.\n\n[1261] wad my hail fee = bet my whole wages.\n\n[1262] fiend dought they do = the deuce could they do.\n\n\n\n\n_145. The Fire of Frendraught_\n\n\n I\n\n The eighteenth of October,\n A dismal tale to hear\n How good Lord John and Rothiemay\n Was both burnt in the fire.\n\n II\n\n When steeds was saddled and well bridled,\n And ready for to ride,\n Then out it came her false Frendraught,\n Inviting them to bide.\n\n III\n\n Said, \u2018Stay this night untill we sup,\n The morn untill we dine;\n \u2019Twill be a token of good greement\n \u2019Twixt your good lord and mine.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n \u2018We\u2019ll turn again,\u2019 said good Lord John;\n \u2018But no,\u2019 said Rothiemay,\n \u2018My steed\u2019s trapan\u2019d[1263], my bridle\u2019s broken,\n I fear the day I\u2019m fey[1264].\u2019\n\n V\n\n When mass was sung and bells was rung,\n And all men bound for bed,\n Then good Lord John and Rothiemay\n In one chamber was laid.\n\n VI\n\n They had not long cast off their cloaths,\n And were but now asleep,\n When the weary smoke began to rise,\n Likewise the scorching heat.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018O waken, waken, Rothiemay!\n O waken, brother dear!\n And turn you to our Saviour;\n There is strong treason here.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n When they were dress\u00e8d in their cloaths,\n And ready for to boun,\n The doors and windows was all secur\u2019d,\n The roof-tree burning down.\n\n IX\n\n He did him to the wire-window[1265],\n As fast as he could gang;\n Says, Wae to the hands put in the stancheons!\n For out we\u2019ll never win.\n\n X\n\n When he stood at the wire-window,\n Most doleful to be seen,\n He did espy her Lady Frendraught,\n Who stood upon the green.\n\n XI\n\n Cried, \u2018Mercy, mercy, Lady Frendraught!\n Will ye not sink with sin?\n For first your husband killed my father,\n And now you burn his son.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n O then out spoke her Lady Frendraught,\n And loudly did she cry;\n \u2018It were great pity for good Lord John,\n But none for Rothiemay;\n But the keys are casten in the deep draw-well,\n Ye cannot get away.\u2019\n\n XIII\n\n While he stood in this dreadful plight,\n Most piteous to be seen,\n There call\u00e8d out his servant Gordon,\n As he had frantic been:\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018O loup, O loup, my dear master!\n O loup and come to me!\n I\u2019ll catch you in my arms twa,\n One foot I will not flee.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018O loup, O loup, my dear master!\n O loup and come away!\n I\u2019ll catch you in my arms twa,\n But Rothiemay may lie.\u2019--\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018The fish shall never swim in the flood,\n Nor corn grow through the clay,\n Nor the fiercest fire that ever was kindled\n Twin[1266] me and Rothiemay.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018But I cannot loup, I cannot come,\n I cannot win to thee;\n My head\u2019s fast in the wire-window,\n My feet burning from me.\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018My eyes are seething in my head,\n My flesh roasting also,\n My bowels are boiling with my blood;\n Is not that a woeful woe?\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018Take here the rings from my white fingers,\n That are so long and small,\n And give them to my lady fair,\n Where she sits in her hall.\n\n XX\n\n \u2018So I cannot loup, I cannot come,\n I cannot loup to thee;\n My earthly part is all consumed,\n My spirit but speaks to thee.\u2019\n\n XXI\n\n Wringing her hands, tearing her hair,\n His lady she was seen,\n And thus address\u2019d his servant Gordon,\n Where he stood on the green.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018O wae be to you, George Gordon!\n An ill death may you die!\n So safe and sound as you stand there,\n And my lord bereaved for me!\u2019--\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018I bad him loup, I bad him come,\n I bad him loup to me;\n I\u2019d catch him in my arms twa,\n A foot I should not flee.\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018He threw me the rings from his white fingers,\n Which were so long and small,\n To give to you, his lady fair,\n Where you sat in your hall.\u2019\n\n XXV\n\n Sophia Hay[1267], Sophia Hay,\n O bonny Sophia was her name,\n Her waiting maid put on her cloaths,\n But I wot she tore them off again!\n\n XXVI\n\n And aft she cried, \u2018Ohon! alas!\n A sair heart\u2019s ill to win;\n I wan a sair heart when I married him,\n And to-day it\u2019s return\u2019d again.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1263] trapan\u2019d = tampered with.\n\n[1264] fey = doomed, having my fate on me.\n\n[1265] wire-window = grated window.\n\n[1266] twin = part.\n\n[1267] Sophia Hay = wife of Lord John [Gordon], burned in this fire.\nShe had jilted the young lord of Tolquhon to marry him, which explains\nthe allusion in the last stanza.\n\n\n\n\n_146. The Death of Parcy Reed_\n\n\n I\n\n God send the land deliverance\n Frae every reaving, riding Scot;\n We\u2019ll sune hae neither cow nor ewe,\n We\u2019ll sune hae neither staig nor stot[1268].\n\n II\n\n The outlaws come frae Liddesdale,\n They herry Redesdale far and near;\n The rich man\u2019s gelding it maun gang,\n They canna pass the puir man\u2019s mare.\n\n III\n\n Sure it were weel, had ilka thief\n Around his neck a halter strang;\n And curses heavy may they light\n On traitors vile oursels amang!\n\n IV\n\n Now Parcy Reed has Crosier taen,\n He has delivered him to the law;\n But Crosier says he\u2019ll do waur than that,\n He\u2019ll make the tower o\u2019 Troughend fa\u2019.\n\n V\n\n And Crosier says he will do waur,\n He will do waur if waur can be;\n He\u2019ll make the bairns a\u2019 fatherless,\n And then, the land it may lie lee.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018To the hunting, ho!\u2019 cried Parcy Reed,\n \u2018The morning sun is on the dew;\n The cauler breeze frae off the fells\n Will lead the dogs to the quarry true.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018To the hunting, ho!\u2019 cried Parcy Reed,\n And to the hunting he has gane;\n And the three fause Ha\u2019s o\u2019 Girsonsfield\n Alang wi\u2019 him he has them taen.\n\n VIII\n\n They hunted high, they hunted low,\n By heathery hill and birken shaw;\n They raised a buck on Rooken Edge,\n And blew the mort[1269] at fair Ealylawe\n\n IX\n\n They hunted high, they hunted low,\n They made the echoes ring amain;\n With music sweet o\u2019 horn and hound,\n They merry made fair Redesdale glen.\n\n X\n\n They hunted high, they hunted low,\n They hunted up, they hunted down,\n Until the day was past the prime,\n And it grew late in the afternoon.\n\n XI\n\n They hunted high in Batinghope,\n When as the sun was sinking low;\n Says Parcy then, \u2018Ca\u2019 off the dogs,\n We\u2019ll bait our steeds and homeward go.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n They lighted high in Batinghope,\n Atween the brown and benty ground;\n They had but rested a little while\n Till Parcy Reed was sleeping sound.\n\n XIII\n\n There\u2019s nane may lean on a rotten staff,\n But him that risks to get a fa\u2019;\n There\u2019s nane may in a traitor trust,\n And traitors black were every Ha\u2019.\n\n XIV\n\n They\u2019ve stown the bridle off his steed,\n And they\u2019ve put water in his lang gun;\n They\u2019ve fixed his sword within the sheath\n That out again it winna come.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Awaken ye, waken ye, Parcy Reed,\n Or by your enemies be ta\u2019en!\n For yonder are the five Crosiers\n A-coming owre the Hingin-stane!\u2019--\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018If they be five, and we be four,\n Sae that ye stand alang wi\u2019 me,\n Then every man ye will take one,\n And only leave but two to me:\n We will them meet as brave men ought,\n And make them either fight or flee.\u2019--\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018We mayna stand, we canna stand,\n We daurna stand alang wi\u2019 thee;\n The Crosiers haud thee at a feud,\n And they wad kill baith thee and we.\u2019--\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018O turn thee, turn thee, Johnie Ha\u2019,\n O turn thee, man, and fight wi\u2019 me;\n When ye come to Troughend again,\n My gude black naig I will gie thee;\n He cost full twenty pound o\u2019 gowd,\n Atween my brother John and me.\u2019--\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018I mayna turn, I canna turn,\n I daurna turn and fight wi\u2019 thee;\n The Crosiers haud thee at a feud,\n And they wad kill baith thee and me.--\n\n XX\n\n \u2018O turn thee, turn thee, Willie Ha\u2019,\n O turn thee, man, and fight wi\u2019 me;\n When ye come to Troughend again,\n A yoke o\u2019 owsen I\u2019ll gie thee.\u2019--\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018I mayna turn, I canna turn,\n I daurna turn and fight wi\u2019 thee;\n The Crosiers haud thee at a feud,\n And they wad kill baith thee and me.\u2019--\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018O turn thee, turn thee, Tommy Ha\u2019,\n O turn now, man, and fight wi\u2019 me;\n If ever we come to Troughend again,\n My daughter Jean I\u2019ll gie to thee.\u2019--\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018I mayna turn, I canna turn,\n I daurna turn and fight wi\u2019 thee;\n The Crosiers haud thee at a feud,\n And they wad kill baith thee and me.\u2019--\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018O shame upon ye, traitors a\u2019!\n I wish your hames ye may never see;\n Ye\u2019ve stown the bridle off my naig,\n And I can neither fight nor flee.\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018Ye\u2019ve stown the bridle off my naig,\n And ye\u2019ve put water i\u2019 my lang gun;\n Ye\u2019ve fixed my sword within the sheath\n That out again it winna come.\u2019\n\n XXVI\n\n He had but time to cross himsel\u2019.\n A prayer he hadna time to say,\n Till round him came the Crosiers keen,\n All riding graith\u2019d[1270] and in array.\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018Weel met, weel met, now, Parcy Reed,\n Thou art the very man we sought;\n Owre lang hae we been in your debt,\n Now will we pay you as we ought.\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018We\u2019ll pay thee at the nearest tree,\n Where we shall hang thee like a hound.\u2019--\n Brave Parcy rais\u2019d his fankit[1271] sword,\n And fell\u2019d the foremost to the ground.\n\n XXIX\n\n Alake, and wae for Parcy Reed!\n Alake, he was an unarmed man!\n Four weapons pierced him all at once,\n As they assail\u2019d him there and than.\n\n XXX\n\n They fell upon him all at once,\n They mangled him most cruellie;\n The slightest wound might caused his deid,\n And they hae gi\u2019en him thirty-three;\n They hackit off his hands and feet,\n And left him lying on the lee.\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018Now, Parcy Reed, we\u2019ve paid our debt,\n Ye canna weel dispute the tale,\u2019\n The Crosiers said, and off they rade;\n They rade the airt[1272] o\u2019 Liddesdale.\n\n XXXII\n\n It was the hour o\u2019 gloaming gray,\n When herds come in frae fauld and pen;\n A herd he saw a huntsman lie,\n Says he, \u2018Can this be Laird Troughen\u2019?\u2019--\n\n XXXIII\n\n \u2018There\u2019s some will ca\u2019 me Parcy Reed,\n And some will ca\u2019 me Laird Troughen\u2019;\n It\u2019s little matter what they ca\u2019 me,\n My faes hae made me ill to ken.\n\n XXXIV\n\n \u2018There\u2019s some will ca\u2019 me Parcy Reed,\n And speak my praise in tower and town;\n It\u2019s little matter what they do now,\n My life-blood rudds the heather brown.\n\n XXXV\n\n \u2018There\u2019s some will ca\u2019 me Parcy Reed,\n And a\u2019 my virtues say and sing;\n I would much rather have just now\n A draught o\u2019 water frae the spring.\u2019\n\n XXXVI\n\n The herd flung aff his clouted shoon\n And to the nearest fountain ran;\n He made his bonnet serve a cup,\n And wan the blessing o\u2019 the dying man.\n\n XXXVII\n\n \u2018Now, honest herd, ye maun do mair,\n Ye maun do mair, as I you tell;\n Ye maun bear tidings to Troughend,\n And bear likewise my last farewell.\n\n XXXVIII\n\n \u2018A farewell to my wedded wife,\n A farewell to my brother John,\n Wha sits into the Troughend tower\n Wi\u2019 heart as black as any stone.\n\n XXXIX\n\n \u2018A farewell to my daughter Jean,\n A farewell to my young sons five;\n Had they been at their father\u2019s hand,\n I had this night been man alive.\n\n XL\n\n \u2018A farewell to my followers a\u2019,\n And a\u2019 my neighbours gude at need;\n Bid them think how the treacherous Ha\u2019s\n Betrayed the life o\u2019 Parcy Reed.\n\n XLI\n\n \u2018The laird o\u2019 Clennel bears my bow,\n The laird o\u2019 Brandon bears my brand;\n Whene\u2019er they ride i\u2019 the Border-side,\n They\u2019ll mind the fate o\u2019 the laird Troughend.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1268] stot = steer.\n\n[1269] mort = death of the deer.\n\n[1270] graith\u2019d = harnessed, in armour.\n\n[1271] fankit = entangled.\n\n[1272] airt = direction.\n\n\n\n\n_147. Baby Livingston_\n\n\n I\n\n O bonny Baby Livingston\n Went forth to view the hay,\n And by it came him Glenlyon,\n Sta\u2019 bonny Baby away.\n\n II\n\n O first he\u2019s ta\u2019en her silken coat,\n And neist her satten gown,\n Syne row\u2019d[1273] her in a tartan plaid,\n And hap\u2019d her roun\u2019 and roun\u2019.\n\n III\n\n He has set her upon his steed\n And roundly rode away,\n And ne\u2019er loot her look back again\n The live-long summer\u2019s day.\n\n IV\n\n He\u2019s carried her o\u2019er hills and muirs\n Till they came to a Highland glen,\n And there he\u2019s met his brother John,\n With twenty arm\u00e8d men.\n\n V\n\n O there were cows, and there were ewes,\n And lasses milking there!\n But Baby ne\u2019er ance look\u2019d about,\n Her heart was fill\u2019d wi\u2019 care.\n\n VI\n\n Glenlyon took her in his arms,\n And kiss\u2019d her, cheek and chin;\n Says, \u2018I\u2019d gie a\u2019 these cows and ewes\n But ae kind look to win.\u2019--\n\n VII\n\n \u2018O ae kind look ye ne\u2019er shall get,\n Nor win a smile frae me,\n Unless to me you\u2019ll favour shew,\n And take me to Dundee.\u2019--\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Dundee, Baby? Dundee, Baby?\n Dundee you ne\u2019er shall see\n Till I\u2019ve carried you to Glenlyon\n And have my bride made thee.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018We\u2019ll stay a while at Auchingour,\n And get sweet milk and cheese,\n And syne we\u2019ll gang to Glenlyon,\n And there live at our ease.\u2019--\n\n X\n\n \u2018I winna stay at Auchingour,\n Nor eat sweet milk and cheese,\n Nor go with thee to Glenlyon,\n For there I\u2019ll ne\u2019er find ease.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n Then out it spake his brother John,\n \u2018O were I in your place,\n I\u2019d take that lady hame again,\n For a\u2019 her bonny face.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Commend me to the lass that\u2019s kind,\n Tho\u2019 na so gently born;\n And, gin her heart I coudna gain,\n To take her hand I\u2019d scorn.\u2019--\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018O haud your tongue now, John,\u2019 he says,\n \u2018You wis na what you say;\n For I have lo\u2019ed that bonny face\n This twelve month and a day.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018And tho\u2019 I\u2019ve lo\u2019ed her lang and sair,\n A smile I ne\u2019er cou\u2019d win;\n Yet what I\u2019ve got ance in my power\n To keep I think nae sin.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n When they came to Glenlyon Castle,\n They lighted at the yate,\n And out it came his sisters three,\n Wha did them kindly greet.\n\n XVI\n\n O they\u2019ve ta\u2019en Baby by the hands\n And led her o\u2019er the green,\n And ilka lady spake a word,\n But bonny Baby spake nane.\n\n XVII\n\n Then out it spake her bonny Jean,\n The youngest o\u2019 the three;\n \u2018O lady, dinna look sae sad,\n But tell your grief to me.\u2019--\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018O wherefore should I tell my grief,\n Since lax[1274] I canna find?\n I\u2019m stown frae a\u2019 my kin and friends,\n And my love I left behind.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018But had I paper, pen, and ink,\n Before that it were day,\n I yet might get a letter sent\n In time to Johny Hay.\u2019\n\n XX\n\n O she\u2019s got paper, pen, and ink,\n And candle that she might see,\n And she has written a broad letter\n To Johny at Dundee.\n\n XXI\n\n And she has gotten a bonny boy,\n That was baith swift and strang,\n Wi\u2019 philabeg and bonnet blue,\n Her errand for to gang.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018O boy, gin ye\u2019d my blessing win\n And help me in my need,\n Run wi\u2019 this letter to my love,\n And bid him come wi\u2019 speed.\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018And here\u2019s a chain of good red gowd,\n And gowden guineas three,\n And when you\u2019ve well your errand done,\n You\u2019ll get them for your fee.\u2019\n\n XXIV\n\n The boy he ran o\u2019er hill and dale,\n Fast as a bird cou\u2019d flee,\n And ere the sun was twa hours height\n The boy was at Dundee.\n\n XXV\n\n And when he came to Johny\u2019s door\n He knock\u00e8d loud and sair;\n Then Johny to the window came,\n And loudly cry\u2019d, \u2018Wha\u2019s there?\u2019--\n\n XXVI\n\n \u2018O here\u2019s a letter I have brought,\n Which ye maun quickly read,\n And, gin ye wou\u2019d your lady save,\n Gang back wi\u2019 me wi\u2019 speed.\u2019\n\n XXVII\n\n O when he had the letter read,\n An angry man was he;\n He says, \u2018Glenlyon, thou shalt rue\n This deed of villany!\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018Woe be to thee, Glenlyon!\u2019 he says,\n \u2018An ill death may thou dee!\n Thou micht hae ta\u2019en anither woman,\n And let my lady be.\n\n XXIX\n\n \u2018O saddle to me the black, the black,\n O saddle to me the brown,\n O saddle to me the swiftest steed\n That e\u2019er rade frae the town.\n\n XXX\n\n \u2018And arm ye well, my merry men a\u2019,\n And follow me to the glen,\n For I vow I\u2019ll neither eat nor sleep\n Till I get my love again.\u2019\n\n XXXI\n\n He\u2019s mounted on a milk-white steed,\n The boy upon a gray,\n And they got to Glenlyon\u2019s castle\n About the close of day.\n\n XXXII\n\n As Baby at her window stood,\n The west wind saft did bla\u2019;\n She heard her Johny\u2019s well-kent voice\n Beneath the castle wa\u2019.\n\n XXXIII\n\n \u2018O Baby, haste, the window jump!\n I\u2019ll kep you in my arm;\n My merry men a\u2019 are at the yate,\n To rescue you frae harm.\u2019\n\n XXXIV\n\n She\u2019s to the window fixt her sheets\n And slipp\u00e8d safely down,\n And Johny catch\u2019d her in his arms,\n Ne\u2019er loot her touch the ground.\n\n XXXV\n\n She\u2019s mounted on her Johny\u2019s horse,\n Fu\u2019 blithely can she say,--\n \u2018Glenlyon, you hae lost your bride!\n She\u2019s aff wi\u2019 Johny Hay!\u2019\n\n XXXVI\n\n Glenlyon and his brother John\n Were birling in the ha\u2019,\n When they heard Johny\u2019s bridle ring,\n As fast he rade awa\u2019.\n\n XXXVII\n\n \u2018Rise, Jock! gang out and meet the priest,\n I hear his bridle ring!\n My Baby now shall be my wife\n Before the laverocks sing.\u2019--\n\n XXXVIII\n\n \u2018O brother, this is not the priest;\n I fear he\u2019ll come owre late;\n For arm\u00e8d men with shining brands\n Stand at the castle-yate.\u2019--\n\n XXXIX\n\n \u2018Haste Donald, Duncan, Dugald, Hugh!\n Haste, take your sword and spier!\n We\u2019ll gar these traytors rue the hour\n That e\u2019er they ventured here.\u2019\n\n XL\n\n The Highland men drew their claymores,\n And gae a warlike shout,\n But Johny\u2019s merry men kept the yate,\n Nae ane durst venture out.\n\n XLI\n\n The lovers rade the live-lang night,\n And safe gat on their way,\n And bonny Baby Livingston\n Has gotten Johny Hay.\n\n XLII\n\n \u2018Awa\u2019, Glenlyon! fy for shame!\n Gae hide ye in some den!\n You\u2019ve latten your bride be stown frae you,\n For a\u2019 your armed men.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1273] row\u2019d = wrapped.\n\n[1274] lax = relief.\n\n\n\n\n_148. The Gypsy Countess_\n\n\n I\n\n There cam\u2019 seven Egyptians on a day,\n And wow, but they sang bonny!\n And they sang sae sweet, and sae very complete,\n Down cam\u2019 Earl Cassilis\u2019 lady.\n\n II\n\n She cam\u2019 tripping down the stair,\n And a\u2019 her maids before her;\n As soon as they saw her weel-faur\u2019d face\n They cast the glamourie owre her.\n\n III\n\n They gave to her the nutmeg,\n And they gave to her the ginger;\n But she gave to them a far better thing,\n The seven gold rings off her fingers.\n\n IV\n\n And when the Earl he did come home,\n Enquiring for his ladie,\n One of the servants made this reply,\n \u2018She\u2019s awa\u2019 with the gypsie laddie.\u2019\n\n V\n\n \u2018Come saddle for me the brown,\u2019 he said,\n \u2018For the black was ne\u2019er so speedy,\n And I will travel night and day\n Till I find out my wanton ladie.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Will you come home, my dear?\u2019 he said,\n \u2018Oh will you come home, my honey?\n And by the point of my broad sword,\n A hand I\u2019ll ne\u2019er lay on you.\u2019...\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Yestreen I rade this water deep,\n And my own gude lord beside me;\n But this night I maun wet my little pretty feet\n With a wheen blackguards to wade me.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Yestreen I lay on a good feather-bed,\n And my own wedded lord beyond me,\n And to-night I\u2019ll lie in the ash-corner,\n With the gypsies all around me.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018They took off my high-heeled shoes,\n That were made of Spanish leather,\n And I have put on coarse Lowland brogues,\n To trip it o\u2019er the heather.\n\n X\n\n \u2018The Earl of Cassilis is lying sick;\n Not one hair I\u2019m sorry;\n I\u2019d rather have a kiss from Johnny Faa\u2019s lips\n Than all his gold and his money.\u2019\n\n\n\n\n_149. The Baron of Brackley_\n\n\n I\n\n Inverey cam\u2019 doun Deeside, whistlin\u2019 and playin\u2019;\n He was at brave Brackley\u2019s yates ere it was dawin\u2019[1275].\n\n II\n\n Says, \u2018Baron of Brackley, are ye within?\n There\u2019s sharp swords at your yate will gar your blood spin.\n\n III\n\n \u2018Open the yate, Brackley, let us within,\n Till on the green turf we gar your blood spin.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n The lady rase up, to the window she went;\n She heard the kye lowin\u2019 o\u2019er hill and o\u2019er bent.\n\n V\n\n \u2018O rise up, John,\u2019 she says, \u2018turn back your kye;\n They\u2019re o\u2019er the hills rinnin\u2019, they\u2019re skippin awye!\u2019--\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Come to bed, Peggie, and let the kye rin:\n For were I to gang out, I\u2019d never get in.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018For there is na gentlemen, nor yet pretty lads,\n But a curn[1276] o\u2019 hired widdifu\u2019s[1277], wears belted plaids.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n Then she cry\u2019d on her women, they quickly came ben:\n \u2018Tak\u2019 up your rocks, lasses, and fight a\u2019 like men!\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Tho\u2019 I\u2019m but a woman, to head you I\u2019ll try,\n Nor let these vile Hielandmen steal a\u2019 our kye.\u2019\n\n X\n\n Then up gat the Baron and cry\u2019d for his graith[1278];\n Says, \u2018Lady, I\u2019ll gang, tho\u2019 to leave you I\u2019m laith.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Come kiss me, my Peggie, and get me my gun;\n For I well may gang out, but I\u2019ll never win in.\u2019\n\n XII\n\n When the Baron of Brackley he rade thro\u2019 the close,\n A gallanter gentleman ne\u2019er mounted horse.\n\n XIII\n\n Tho\u2019 there cam\u2019 in with Inverey thirty and three,\n There was nane wi\u2019 bold Brackley but his brither and he.\n\n XIV\n\n Twa gallanter Gordons did never sword draw:\n But against four and thirty, wae\u2019s me, what was twa?\n\n XV\n\n Wi\u2019 swords and wi\u2019 daggers they did him surround,\n And they\u2019ve pierced the bold Brackley wi\u2019 mony a wound.\n\n XVI\n\n Frae the head o\u2019 the Dee to the banks o\u2019 the Spey\n The Gordons may mourn him and ban Inverey.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018O cam\u2019 ye in by Brackley, and was ye in there?\n Or saw ye his Peggy dear riving[1279] her hair?\u2019--\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018O I cam\u2019 by Brackley, and I was in there,\n But I saw-na his Peggy dear riving her hair.\u2019--\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018O fye on ye, ladye! how could ye do sae?\n You open\u2019d your yate[1280] to the fause Inverey.\u2019\n\n XX\n\n She ate wi\u2019 him, drank wi\u2019 him, welcomed him in;\n She\u2019s welcomed the villain that slew her Bar\u00f2n.\n\n XXI\n\n She kept him till morning, syne bade him be gane,\n And show\u2019d him the road that he wouldna be ta\u2019en.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018Thro\u2019 Bires and Aboyne,\u2019 she says, \u2018lyin\u2019 in a tour\n O\u2019er the hills o\u2019 Glentanor ye\u2019ll skip in an hour.\u2019\n\n XXIII\n\n There is dule in the kitchen, and mirth in the ha\u2019,\n For the Baron of Brackley is dead and awa\u2019.\n\n XXIV\n\n But and up spak\u2019 the babe on his nourice\u2019s knee--\n \u2018Gin I live to be man, it\u2019s revenged I will be.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1275] dawin\u2019 = dawn.\n\n[1276] curn = pack.\n\n[1277] widdifu\u2019s = gallows-birds, fit to fill a \u2018widdie\u2019 or halter.\n\n[1278] graith = harness, arms.\n\n[1279] riving = tearing.\n\n[1280] yate = gate.\n\n\n\n\n_150. The Dowie Houms of Yarrow_\n\n\n I\n\n Late at een, drinkin\u2019 the wine,\n And ere they paid the lawin\u2019[1281],\n They set a combat them between,\n To fight it in the dawin\u2019.\n\n II\n\n \u2018O stay at hame, my noble lord!\n O stay at hame, my marrow[1282]!\n My cruel brother will you betray,\n On the dowie[1283] houms[1284] o\u2019 Yarrow.\u2019--\n\n III\n\n \u2018O fare ye weel, my lady gay!\n O fare ye weel, my Sarah!\n For I maun gae, tho\u2019 I ne\u2019er return\n Frae the dowie banks o\u2019 Yarrow.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n She kiss\u2019d his cheek, she kamed his hair,\n As she had done before, O;\n She belted on his noble brand,\n An\u2019 he\u2019s awa to Yarrow.\n\n V\n\n O he\u2019s gane up yon high, high hill--\n I wat he gaed wi\u2019 sorrow--\n An\u2019 in a den spied nine arm\u2019d men,\n I\u2019 the dowie houms o\u2019 Yarrow.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018O are ye come to drink the wine,\n As ye hae doon before, O?\n Or are ye come to wield the brand,\n On the dowie houms o\u2019 Yarrow?\u2019--\n\n VII\n\n \u2018I am no come to drink the wine,\n As I hae done before, O,\n But I am come to wield the brand,\n On the dowie houms o\u2019 Yarrow.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n Four he hurt an\u2019 five he slew,\n On the dowie houms o\u2019 Yarrow,\n Till that stubborn knight came him behind,\n An\u2019 ran his body thorrow.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Gae hame, gae hame, good brother John,\n An\u2019 tell your sister Sarah\n To come an\u2019 lift her noble lord,\n Who\u2019s sleepin\u2019 sound on Yarrow.\u2019\n\n X\n\n \u2018Yestreen I dream\u2019d a dolefu\u2019 dream;\n I ken\u2019d there wad be sorrow;\n I dream\u2019d I pu\u2019d the heather green,\n On the dowie banks o\u2019 Yarrow.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n She gaed up yon high, high hill--\n I wat she gaed wi\u2019 sorrow--\n An\u2019 in a den spied nine dead men,\n On the dowie houms o\u2019 Yarrow.\n\n XII\n\n She kiss\u2019d his cheek, she kamed his hair,\n As oft she did before, O;\n She drank the red blood frae him ran,\n On the dowie houms o\u2019 Yarrow.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018O haud your tongue, my douchter dear,\n For what needs a\u2019 this sorrow?\n I\u2019ll wed you on a better lord\n Than him you lost on Yarrow.\u2019--\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018O haud your tongue, my father dear,\n An\u2019 dinna grieve your Sarah;\n A better lord was never born\n Than him I lost on Yarrow.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Tak hame your ousen[1285], tak hame your kye,\n For they hae bred our sorrow;\n I wiss that they had a\u2019 gane mad\n Whan they cam\u2019 first to Yarrow.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1281] lawin\u2019 = reckoning.\n\n[1282] marrow = married mate.\n\n[1283] dowie = doleful.\n\n[1284] houms = water-meads.\n\n[1285] ousen = oxen.\n\n\n\n\n_151. Lord Maxwell\u2019s Last Goodnight_\n\n\n I\n\n \u2018Adieu, madame, my mother dear,\n But and my sisters three!\n Adieu, fair Robert of Orchardstane!\n My heart is wae for thee.\n\n II\n\n \u2018Adieu, the lily and the rose,\n The primrose fair to see;\n Adieu, my ladye, and only joy!\n For I may not stay with thee.\n\n III\n\n \u2018Though I hae slain the Lord Johnstone,\n What care I for their feid?\n My noble mind does still incline--\n He was my father\u2019s deid[1286].\n\n IV\n\n \u2018Both night and day I labour\u2019d oft\n Of him avenged to be;\n But now I\u2019ve got what lang I sought\n And I may not stay with thee.\n\n V\n\n \u2018Adieu! Drumlanrig, false wert aye,\n And Closeburn in a band!\n The Laird of Lag, frae my father that fled,\n When the Johnstone struck aff his hand.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018They were three brethren in a band--\n Joy may they never see!\n Their treacherous art, and cowardly heart,\n Has twined[1287] my love and me.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Adieu! Dumfries, my proper place,\n But and Carlaverock fair!\n Adieu! my castle of the Thrieve,\n Wi\u2019 a\u2019 my buildings there!\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Adieu! Lochmaben\u2019s gate sae fair,\n And Langholm, where birks there be;\n Adieu! my ladye, and only joy,\n For I may not stay wi\u2019 thee.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Adieu! Fair Eskdale up and down,\n Where my puir friends do dwell;\n The bangisters[1288] will ding them down,\n And will them sair compell.\n\n X\n\n \u2018But I\u2019ll avenge their feid mysell,\n When I come o\u2019er the sea;\n Adieu! my ladye, and only joy\n For I may not stay wi\u2019 thee.\u2019--\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Lord of the land, will you go then\n Unto my father\u2019s place,\n And walk into their gardens green,\n And I will you embrace.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018There Hamiltons, and Douglas baith,\n Shall rise to succour thee.\u2019--\n \u2018Thanks for thy kindness, fair my dame,\n But I may not stay wi\u2019 thee.\u2019--\n\n XIII\n\n Then he tuik aff a gay gold ring,\n Thereat hang signets three;\n \u2018Hae, tak thee that, mine ain kind thing,\n And still hae mind o\u2019 me!\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018But if thou take another lord,\n Ere I come ower the sea,\n His life is but a three days\u2019 lease,\n Though I may not stay wi\u2019 thee.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n The wind was fair, the ship was clear,\n That good lord went away;\n And most part of his friends were there,\n To give him a fair convey.\n\n XVI\n\n They drank the wine, they didna spare\n Even in that gude lord\u2019s sight--\n Sae now he\u2019s o\u2019er the floods sae gray,\n And Lord Maxwell has ta\u2019en his Goodnight.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1286] my father\u2019s deid = the death of my father.\n\n[1287] twined = parted.\n\n[1288] bangisters = lawless folk.\n\n\n\n\n_152. Helen of Kirconnell_\n\n\n I\n\n I wish I were where Helen lies,\n Night and day on me she cries;\n O that I were where Helen lies,\n On fair Kirconnell lea!\n\n II\n\n Curst be the heart that thought the thought,\n And curst the hand that fired the shot,\n When in my arms burd Helen dropt,\n And died to succour me!\n\n III\n\n O think na ye my heart was sair,\n When my Love dropp\u2019d and spak nae mair!\n There did she swoon wi\u2019 meikle care,\n On fair Kirconnell lea.\n\n IV\n\n As I went down the water side,\n None but my foe to be my guide,\n None but my foe to be my guide,\n On fair Kirconnell lea;\n\n V\n\n I lighted down my sword to draw,\n I hack\u00e8d him in pieces sma\u2019,\n I hack\u00e8d him in pieces sma\u2019,\n For her sake that died for me.\n\n VI\n\n O Helen fair, beyond compare!\n I\u2019ll mak a garland o\u2019 thy hair,\n Shall bind my heart for evermair,\n Until the day I dee!\n\n VII\n\n O that I were where Helen lies!\n Night and day on me she cries;\n Out of my bed she bids me rise,\n Says, \u2018Haste, and come to me!\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n O Helen fair! O Helen chaste!\n If I were with thee, I\u2019d be blest,\n Where thou lies low and taks thy rest,\n On fair Kirconnell lea.\n\n IX\n\n I wish my grave were growing green,\n A winding-sheet drawn owre my een,\n And I in Helen\u2019s arms lying,\n On fair Kirconnell lea.\n\n X\n\n I wish I were where Helen lies!\n Night and day on me she cries;\n And I am weary of the skies,\n For her sake that died for me.\n\n\n\n\n_153. The Lament of the Border Widow_\n\n\n I\n\n My love he built me a bonny bower,\n And clad it a\u2019 wi\u2019 lilye flour;\n A brawer bower ye ne\u2019er did see,\n Than my true love he built for me.\n\n II\n\n There came a man, by middle day,\n He spied his sport, and went away;\n And brought the King that very night,\n Who brake my bower, and slew my knight.\n\n III\n\n He slew my knight, to me sae dear;\n He slew my knight, and poin\u2019d[1289] his gear;\n My servants all for life did flee,\n And left me in extremitie.\n\n IV\n\n I sew\u2019d his sheet, making my mane;\n I watch\u2019d the corpse, myself alane;\n I watch\u2019d his body, night and day;\n No living creature came that way.\n\n V\n\n I took his body on my back,\n And whiles I gaed, and whiles I sat;\n I digg\u2019d a grave, and laid him in,\n And happ\u2019d him with the sod sae green.\n\n VI\n\n But think na ye my heart was sair,\n When I laid the moul\u2019 on his yellow hair;\n O think na ye my heart was wae,\n When I turn\u2019d about, away to gae?\n\n VII\n\n Nae living man I\u2019ll love again,\n Since that my lovely knight is slain;\n Wi\u2019 ae lock of his yellow hair\n I\u2019ll chain my heart for evermair.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1289] poin\u2019d = made forfeit.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK VII\n\n\n\n\n_154. Lady Alice_\n\n\n I\n\n Lady Alice was sitting in her bower-window,\n Mending her midnight quoif,\n And there she saw as fine a corpse\n As ever she saw in her life.\n\n II\n\n \u2018What bear ye, what bear ye, ye six men tall?\n What bear ye on your should\u00e8rs?\u2019--\n \u2018We bear the corpse of Giles Collins,\n An old and true lover of yours.\u2019--\n\n III\n\n \u2018O lay him down gently, ye six men tall,\n All on the grass so green,\n And to-morrow, when the sun goes down,\n Lady Alice a corpse shall be seen.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018And bury me in Saint Mary\u2019s church,\n All for my love so true,\n And make me a garland of marjoram,\n And of lemon-thyme, and rue.\u2019\n\n V\n\n Giles Collins was buried all in the east,\n Lady Alice all in the west,\n And the roses that grew on Giles Collins\u2019s grave,\n They reached Lady Alice\u2019s breast.\n\n VI\n\n The priest of the parish he chanced to pass,\n And he sever\u2019d those roses in twain;\n Sure never were seen such true lovers before,\n Nor e\u2019er will there be again.\n\n\n\n\n_155. Lord Lovel_\n\n\n I\n\n Lord Lovel he stood at his castle-gate,\n Combing his milk-white steed,\n When up came Lady Nancy Belle,\n To wish her lover good speed.\n\n II\n\n \u2018Where are you going, Lord Lovel?\u2019 she said,\n \u2018Oh where are you going?\u2019 said she.\n \u2018I\u2019m going, my Lady Nancy Belle,\n Strange countries for to see.\u2019\n\n III\n\n \u2018When will you be back, Lord Lovel?\u2019 she said,\n \u2018Oh when will you come back?\u2019 said she.\n \u2018In a year, or two, or three at the most,\n I\u2019ll return to my fair Nanc\u1ef3.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n But he had not been gone a year and a day,\n Strange countries for to see,\n When languishing thoughts came into his head,\n Lady Nancy Belle he would go see.\n\n V\n\n So he rode, and he rode, on his milk-white steed,\n Till he came to London town,\n And there he heard St. Pancras\u2019 bells,\n And the people all mourning round.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Oh what is the matter?\u2019 Lord Lovel he said,\n \u2018Oh what is the matter?\u2019 said he;\n \u2018A lord\u2019s lady is dead,\u2019 a woman replied,\n \u2018And some call her Lady Nanc\u1ef3.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n So he order\u2019d the grave to be open\u2019d wide.\n And the shroud he turn\u00e8d down,\n And there he kiss\u2019d her clay-cold lips,\n Till the tears came trickling down.\n\n VIII\n\n Lady Nancy she died, as it might be, today,\n Lord Lovel he died as tomorrow;\n Lady Nancy she died out of pure, pure grief,\n Lord Lovel he died out of sorrow.\n\n IX\n\n Lady Nancy was laid in St. Pancras\u2019 Church,\n Lord Lovel was laid in the choir;\n And out of her bosom there grew a red rose,\n And out of her lover\u2019s a briar.\n\n X\n\n They grew, and they grew, to the church-steeple top,\n And then they could grow no higher;\n So there they entwined in a true-lovers\u2019 knot,\n For all lovers true to admire.\n\n\n\n\n_156. The Trees So High_\n\n\n I\n\n All the trees they are so high,\n The leaves they are so green,\n The day is past and gone, sweet-heart,\n That you and I have seen.\n It is cold winter\u2019s night,\n You and I must bide alone:\n Whilst my pretty lad is young\n And is growing.\n\n II\n\n In a garden as I walked,\n I heard them laugh and call;\n There were four and twenty playing there,\n They played with bat and ball.\n O the rain on the roof,\n Here and I must make my moan:\n Whilst my pretty lad is young\n And is growing.\n\n III\n\n I listen\u2019d in the garden,\n I look\u00e8d o\u2019er the wall;\n \u2018Midst five and twenty gallants there\n My love exceeded all.\n O the wind on the thatch,\n Here and I alone must weep:\n Whilst my pretty lad is young\n And is growing.\n\n IV\n\n O father, father dear,\n Great wrong to me is done.\n That I should married be this day,\n Before the set of sun.\n At the huffle of the gale,\n Here I toss and cannot sleep:\n Whilst my pretty lad is young\n And is growing.\n\n V\n\n My daughter, daughter dear,\n If better be, more fit,\n I\u2019ll send him to the court awhile,\n To point his pretty wit.\n But the snow, snowflakes fall,\n O and I am chill as dead:\n Whilst my pretty lad is young\n And is growing.\n\n VI\n\n To let the lovely ladies know\n They may not touch and taste,\n I\u2019ll bind a bunch of ribbons red\n About his little waist.\n But the raven hoarsely croaks,\n And I shiver in my bed;\n Whilst my pretty lad is young\n And is growing.\n\n VII\n\n I married was, alas,\n A lady high to be,\n In court and stall and stately hall,\n And bower of tapestry.\n But the bell did only knell,\n And I shuddered as one cold:\n When I wed the pretty lad\n Not done growing.\n\n VIII\n\n At fourteen he wedded was,\n A father at fifteen,\n At sixteen \u2019s face was white as milk,\n And then his grave was green;\n And the daisies were outspread,\n And buttercups of gold,\n O\u2019er my pretty lad so young\n Now ceased growing.\n\n\n\n\n_157. The Brown Girl_\n\n\n I\n\n \u2018I am as brown as brown can be,\n My eyes as black as a sloe;\n I am as brisk as a nightingale,\n And as wild as any doe.\n\n II\n\n \u2018My love has sent me a love-letter,\n Not far from yonder town,\n That he could not fancy me,\n Because I was so brown.\n\n III\n\n \u2018I sent him his letter back again,\n For his love I valu\u2019d not,\n Whether that he could fancy me\n Or whether he could not.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018He sent me his letter back again,\n That he lay sick to death,\n That I might then go speedily\n To give him up his faith.\u2019\n\n V\n\n Now you shall hear what love she had\n Then for this love-sick man;\n She was a whole long summer\u2019s day\n In a mile a going on.\n\n VI\n\n When she came to her love\u2019s bed-side,\n Where he lay dangerous sick,\n She could not for laughing stand\n Upright upon her feet.\n\n VII\n\n She had a white wand all in her hand,\n And smooth\u2019d it all on his breast;\n \u2018In faith and troth come pardon me,\n I hope your soul\u2019s at rest.\u2019--\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Prithee,\u2019 said he, \u2018forget, forget,\n Prithee forget, forgive;\n O grant me yet a little space,\n That I may be well and live.\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018O never will I forget, forgive,\n So long as I have breath;\n I\u2019ll dance above your green, green grave\n Where you do lie beneath.\n\n X\n\n \u2018I\u2019ll do as much for my true-love\n As other maidens may;\n I\u2019ll dance and sing on my love\u2019s grave\n A whole twelvemonth and a day.\u2019\n\n\n\n\n_158. Barbara Allan\u2019s Cruelty_\n\n\n I\n\n In Scarlet town, where I was born,\n There was a fair maid dwellin\u2019,\n Made every youth cry _Well-a-way!_\n Her name was Barbara Allen.\n\n II\n\n All in the merry month of May,\n When green buds they were swellin\u2019,\n Young Jemmy Grove on his death-bed lay,\n For love of Barbara Allen.\n\n III\n\n He sent his man in to her then,\n To the town where she was dwellin\u2019\n \u2018O haste and come to my master dear,\n If your name be Barbara Allen.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n So slowly, slowly rase she up,\n And slowly she came nigh him,\n And when she drew the curtain by--\n \u2018Young man, I think you\u2019re dyin\u2019.\u2019\n\n V\n\n \u2018O it\u2019s I am sick and very very sick,\n And it\u2019s all for Barbara Allen.\u2019--\n \u2018O the better for me ye\u2019se never be,\n Tho\u2019 your heart\u2019s blood were a-spillin\u2019!\n\n VI\n\n \u2018O dinna ye mind, young man,\u2019 says she,\n \u2018When the red wine ye were fillin\u2019,\n That ye made the healths go round and round,\n And slighted Barbara Allen?\u2019\n\n VII\n\n He turn\u2019d his face unto the wall,\n And death was with him dealin\u2019:\n \u2018Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all,\n And be kind to Barbara Allen!\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n As she was walking o\u2019er the fields,\n She heard the dead-bell knellin\u2019;\n And every jow[1290] the dead-bell gave\n Cried \u2018Woe to Barbara Allen.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n \u2018O mother, mother, make my bed,\n O make it saft and narrow:\n My love has died for me to-day,\n I\u2019ll die for him to-morrow.\n\n X\n\n \u2018Farewell,\u2019 she said, \u2018ye virgins all,\n And shun the fault I fell in:\n Henceforth take warning by the fall\n Of cruel Barbara Allen.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1290] jow = beat, toll.\n\n\n\n\n_159. The Gardener_\n\n\n I\n\n The gardener stands in his bower-door,\n With a primrose in his hand,\n And by there came a leal[1291] maiden\n As jimp[1292] as a willow wand.\n\n II\n\n \u2018O lady, can you fancy me,\n For to be my bride?\n Ye\u2019se get a\u2019 the flowers in my garden\n To be to you a weed[1293].\n\n III\n\n \u2018The lily white sall be your smock\n Becomes your body best;\n Your head sall be busk\u2019d wi\u2019 gillyflower\n And the primrose in your breast.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018Your gown sall be the sweet-william,\n Your coat the camovine[1294],\n Your apron a\u2019 the salluds neat\n That taste baith sweet and fine.\n\n V\n\n \u2018Your stockings sall be o\u2019 the braid kail-blade,\n That is baith braid and lang;\n And narrow, narrow at the cute[1295],\n And braid, braid at the brawn[1296].\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Your gloves sall be the marigold,\n All glittering to your hand,\n Well spread o\u2019er wi\u2019 the blue blaewort[1297]\n That grows amang corn-land.\u2019--\n\n VII\n\n \u2018O fare ye well, young man,\u2019 she says,\n \u2018Farewell, and I bid adieu;\n If you can fancy me,\u2019 she says,\n \u2018O I cannot fancy you.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Sin ye\u2019ve provided a weed for me\n Amang the summer flowers,\n Then I\u2019se provide anither for you\n Amang the winter showers.--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018The new-fa\u2019n snaw to be your smock\n Becomes your body best;\n An\u2019 your head sall be wound wi\u2019 the eastern wind,\n An\u2019 the cauld rain on your breast.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1291] leal = true.\n\n[1292] jimp = slender.\n\n[1293] weed = clothing.\n\n[1294] camovine = camomile.\n\n[1295] cute = ankle.\n\n[1296] brawn = calf.\n\n[1297] blaewort = corn bluebottle.\n\n\n\n\n_160. The Lowlands o\u2019 Holland_\n\n\n I\n\n \u2018My love has built a bonny ship, and set her on the sea,\n With seven score good mariners to bear her compan\u1ef3;\n There\u2019s three score is sunk, and three score dead at sea,\n And the Lowlands o\u2019 Holland has twin\u2019d[1298] my love and me.\n\n II\n\n \u2018My love he built another ship, and set her on the main,\n And nane but twenty mariners for to bring her hame;\n But the weary wind began to rise, and the sea began to rout,\n My love then and his bonny ship turn\u2019d withershins[1299] about.\n\n III\n\n \u2018Then shall neither coif come on my head nor comb come in my hair;\n Then shall neither coal nor candle-light shine in my bower mair;\n Nor will I love another one until the day I die,\n Sin\u2019 the Lowlands o\u2019 Holland has twin\u2019d my love and me.\u2019--\n\n IV\n\n \u2018O haud your tongue, my daughter dear, be still and be content;\n There are mair lads in Galloway, ye neen nae sair lament.\u2019--\n \u2018O there is none in Gallow, there\u2019s none at a\u2019 for me,\n For I never loved a love but one, and he\u2019s drown\u2019d in the sea.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1298] twin\u2019d = parted.\n\n[1299] withershins = around against the sun.\n\n\n\n\n_161. The Spanish Lady\u2019s Love_\n\n\n I\n\n Will you hear a Spanish lady\n How she woo\u2019d an English man?\n Garments gay and rich as may be,\n Decked with jewels, she had on;\n Of a comely countenance and grace was she,\n And by birth and parentage of high degree.\n\n II\n\n As his prisoner there he kept her,\n In his hands her life did lie;\n Cupid\u2019s bands did tie her faster,\n By the liking of an eye;\n In his courteous company was all her joy,\n To favour him in any thing she was not coy.\n\n III\n\n At the last there came commandment\n For to set the ladies free,\n With their jewels still adorn\u00e8d,\n None to do them injury:\n \u2018Alas!\u2019 then said this lady gay, \u2018full woe is me;\n O let me still sustain this kind captivity!\n\n IV\n\n \u2018Gallant captain, show some pity\n To a lady in distress;\n Leave me not within this city,\n For to die in heaviness;\n Thou hast set this present day my body free,\n But my heart in prison strong remains with thee.\u2019--\n\n V\n\n \u2018How should\u2019st thou, fair lady, love me,\n Whom thou know\u2019st thy country\u2019s foe?\n Thy fair words make me suspect thee;\n Serpents lie where flowers grow.\u2019--\n \u2018All the harm I think to thee, most gracious knight,\n God grant unto myself the same may fully light:\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Bless\u00e8d be the time and season\n That you came on Spanish ground;\n If our foes you may be term\u00e8d,\n Gentle foes we have you found.\n With our city you have won our hearts each one;\n Then to your country bear away that is your own.\u2019--\n\n VII\n\n \u2018Rest you still, most gallant lady,\n Rest you still, and weep no more;\n Of fair lovers there are plenty;\n Spain doth yield a wondrous store.\u2019--\n \u2018Spaniards fraught with jealousy we often find,\n But Englishmen through all the world are counted kind.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Leave me not unto a Spaniard;\n You alone enjoy my heart;\n I am lovely, young, and tender,\n And so love is my desart.\n Still to serve thee day and night my mind is press\u2019d;\n The wife of every Englishman is counted blest.\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018It would be a shame, fair lady,\n For to bear a woman hence;\n English soldiers never carry\n Any such without offence.\u2019--\n \u2018I will quickly change myself if it be so,\n And like a page I\u2019ll follow thee where\u2019er thou go.\u2019--\n\n X\n\n \u2018I have neither gold nor silver\n To maintain thee in this case,\n And to travel, \u2019tis great charges,\n As you know, in every place.\u2019--\n \u2018My chains and jewels every one shall be thine own,\n And eke five hundred pounds in gold that lies unknown.\u2019--\n\n XI\n\n \u2018On the seas are many dangers;\n Many storms do there arise,\n Which will be to ladies dreadful,\n And force tears from watery eyes.\u2019--\n \u2018Well in truth I shall endure extremity,\n For I could find in heart to lose my life for thee.\u2019--\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Courteous lady, leave this fancy;\n Here comes all that bleeds the strife;\n I in England have already\n A sweet woman to my wife:\n I will not falsify my vow for gold or gain,\n Nor yet for all the fairest dames that live in Spain.\u2019--\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018Oh how happy is that woman,\n That enjoys so true a friend!\n Many happy days God send you!\n Of my suit I\u2019ll make an end:\n On my knees I pardon crave for this offence,\n Which did from love and true affection first commence.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018Commend me to thy loving lady:\n Bear to her this chain of gold,\n And these bracelets for a token;\n Grieving that I was so bold.\n All my jewels in like sort bear thou with thee,\n For they are fitting for thy wife, but not for me.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018I will spend my days in prayer,\n Love and all his laws defy,\n In a nunnery will I shroud me,\n Far from any company:\n But ere my prayers have end, be sure of this,\n To pray for thee and for thy love I will not miss.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018Thus farewell, most gentle captain,\n Farewell too my heart\u2019s content!\n Count not Spanish ladies wayward,\n Though to thee my love was bent:\n Joy and true prosperity go still with thee!\u2019--\n \u2018The like fall ever to thy share, most fair lad\u1ef3!\u2019\n\n\n\n\n_162. The Bailiff\u2019s Daughter of Islington_\n\n\n I\n\n There was a youth, and a well-belov\u00e8d youth,\n And he was an esquire\u2019s son,\n He loved the bailiff\u2019s daughter dear,\n That lived in Islington.\n\n II\n\n But she was coy, and she would not believe\n That he did love her so,\n No, nor at any time she would\n Any countenance to him show.\n\n III\n\n But when his friends did understand\n His fond and foolish mind,\n They sent him up to fair London,\n An apprentice for to bind.\n\n IV\n\n And when he had been seven long years,\n And his love he had not seen;\n \u2018Many a tear have I shed for her sake\n When she little thought of me.\u2019\n\n V\n\n All the maids of Islington\n Went forth to sport and play;\n All but the bailiff\u2019s daughter dear;\n She secretly stole away.\n\n VI\n\n She put off her gown of gray,\n And put on her puggish[1300] attire;\n She\u2019s up to fair London gone,\n Her true-love to require.\n\n VII\n\n As she went along the road,\n The weather being hot and dry,\n There was she aware of her true-love,\n At length came riding by.\n\n VIII\n\n She stept to him, as red as any rose,\n And took him by the bridle-ring:\n \u2018I pray you, kind sir, give me one penn\u1ef3,\n To ease my weary limb.\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018I prithee, sweetheart, canst thou tell me\n Where that thou wast born?\u2019--\n \u2018At Islington, kind sir,\u2019 said she,\n \u2018Where I have had many a scorn.\u2019--\n\n X\n\n \u2018I prithee, sweetheart, canst thou tell me\n Whether thou dost know\n The bailiff\u2019s daughter of Islington?\u2019--\n \u2018She\u2019s dead, sir, long ago.\u2019--\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Then will I sell my goodly steed,\n My saddle and my bow;\n I will into some far countrey,\n Where no man doth me know.\u2019--\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Oh stay, O stay, thou goodly youth!\n She\u2019s alive, she is not dead;\n Here she standeth by thy side,\n And is ready to be thy bride.\u2019--\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018O farewell grief, and welcome joy,\n Ten thousand times and o\u2019er!\n For now I have seen my own true-love,\n That I thought I should have seen no more.\u2019\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1300] puggish = tramp\u2019s.\n\n\n\n\n_163. The Blind Beggar\u2019s Daughter of Bednall-Green_\n\n\n I\n\n It was a blind beggar, had long lost his sight,\n He had a fair daughter of beauty most bright;\n And many a gallant brave suitor had she,\n For none was so comely as pretty Bessee.\n\n II\n\n And though she was of favour most faire,\n Yet seeing she was but a poor beggar\u2019s heyre.\n Of ancyent housekeepers despis\u00e8d was she,\n Whose sons came as suitors to pretty Bessee.\n\n III\n\n Wherefore in great sorrow fair Bessy did say,\n \u2018Good father, and mother, let me go away\n To seek out my fortune, whatever it be.\u2019\n This suit then they granted to pretty Bessee.\n\n IV\n\n Then Bessy, that was of beauty so bright,\n All clad in grey russet, and late in the night,\n From father and mother alone parted she;\n Who sigh\u00e8d and sobb\u00e8d for pretty Bessee.\n\n V\n\n She went till she came to Stratford-le-Bow;\n Then knew she not whither, nor which way to go:\n With tears she lamented her hard destin\u00ece,\n So sad and so heavy was pretty Bessee.\n\n VI\n\n She kept on her journey until it was day,\n She went unto Rumford along the high way;\n Where at the Queen\u2019s Arms entertain\u00e8d was she:\n So fair and well favoured was pretty Bessee.\n\n VII\n\n She had not been there a month to an end,\n But master and mistress and all was her friend:\n And every brave gallant, that once did her see,\n Was straightway enamour\u2019d of pretty Bessee.\n\n VIII\n\n Great gifts they did send her of silver and gold,\n And in their songs daily her love was extoll\u2019d;\n Her beauty was blaz\u00e8d in every degree;\n So fair and so comely was pretty Bessee.\n\n IX\n\n The young men of Rumford in her had their joy;\n She showed herself courteous, and modestly coy;\n And at her command\u00e8ment still would they be;\n So fair and so comely was pretty Bessee.\n\n X\n\n Four suitors at once unto her did go;\n They crav\u00e8d her favour, but still she said \u2018no;\n I would not wish gentles to marry with me.\u2019--\n Yet ever they honoured pretty Bessee.\n\n XI\n\n The first of them was a gallant young knight,\n And he came unto her disguised in the night:\n The second a gentleman of good degree,\n Who woo\u00e8d and su\u00e8d for pretty Bessee.\n\n XII\n\n A merchant of London, whose wealth was not small,\n He was the third suitor, and proper withal:\n Her master\u2019s own son the fourth man must be,\n Who swore he would die for pretty Bessee.\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018And, if thou wilt marry with me,\u2019 quoth the knight,\n \u2018I\u2019ll make thee a lady with joy and delight;\n My heart so enthrall\u00e8d is by thy beaut\u00ece,\n That soon I shall die for pretty Bessee.\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n The gentleman said, \u2018Come, marry with me,\n As fine as a lady my Bessy shall be:\n My life is distress\u00e8d: O hear me,\u2019 quoth he;\n \u2018And grant me thy love, my pretty Bessee.\u2019--\n\n XV\n\n \u2018Let me be thy husband,\u2019 the merchant did say,\n \u2018Thou shalt live in London both gallant and gay;\n My ships shall bring home rich jewels for thee,\n And I will for ever love pretty Bessee.\u2019\n\n XVI\n\n Then Bessy she sighed, and thus she did say,\n \u2018My father and mother I mean to obey;\n First get their good will, and be faithful to me,\n And then you shall marry your pretty Bessee.\u2019\n\n XVII\n\n To every one this answer she made,\n Wherefore unto her they joyfully said,\n \u2018This thing to fulfil we all do agree;\n But where dwells thy father, my pretty Bessee?\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018My father,\u2019 she said, \u2018is soon to be seen:\n The silly blind beggar of Bednall-green,\n That daily sits begging for charit\u00ece,\n He is the good father of pretty Bessee.\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018His marks and his tokens are known very well;\n He always is led with a dog and a bell:\n A silly old man, God knoweth, is he,\n Yet he is the father of pretty Bessee.\u2019\n\n XX\n\n \u2018Nay then,\u2019 quoth the merchant, \u2018thou art not for me!\u2019\n \u2018Nor,\u2019 quoth the innholder, \u2018my wife thou shalt be.\u2019\n \u2018I lothe,\u2019 said the gentle, \u2018a beggar\u2019s degree,\n And therefore adieu, my pretty Bessee!\u2019\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018Why then,\u2019 quoth the knight, \u2018hap better or worse,\n I weigh not true love by the weight of the purse,\n And beauty is beauty in every degree;\n Then welcome unto me, my pretty Bessee.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018With thee to thy father forthwith I will go.\u2019--\n \u2018Nay soft,\u2019 quoth his kinsmen, \u2018it must not be so;\n A poor beggar\u2019s daughter no lady shall be,\n Then take thy adieu of pretty Bessee.\u2019\n\n XXIII\n\n But soon after this, by break of the day\n The Knight had from Rumford stole Bessy away.\n The young men of Rumford, as thick as might be,\n Rode after to fetch again pretty Bessee.\n\n XXIV\n\n As swift as the wind to ryde they were seen,\n Until they came near unto Bednall-green;\n And as the Knight lighted most courteousl\u00ece,\n They all fought against him for pretty Bessee.\n\n XXV\n\n But rescue came speedily over the plain,\n Or else the young Knight for his love had been slain.\n This fray being ended, then straightway he see\n His kinsmen come railing at pretty Bessee.\n\n XXVI\n\n Then spake the blind beggar, \u2018Although I be poor,\n Yet rail not against my child at my own door:\n Though she be not deck\u00e8d in velvet and pearl,\n Yet will I drop angels with you for my girl.\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018And then, if my gold may better her birth,\n And equal the gold that you lay on the earth,\n Then neither rail nor grudge you to see\n The blind beggar\u2019s daughter a lady to be.\n\n XXVIII\n\n \u2018But first you shall promise, and have it well known,\n The gold that you dropt shall all be your own.\u2019\n With that they replied, \u2018Contented be we.\u2019\n \u2018Then here\u2019s,\u2019 quoth the beggar, \u2018for pretty Bessee!\u2019\n\n XXIX\n\n With that an angel he cast on the ground,\n And dropped in angels full three thousand pound;\n And oftentimes it was prov\u00e8d most plain,\n For the gentlemen\u2019s one the beggar dropt twain:\n\n XXX\n\n So that the place, wherein they did sit,\n With gold it was cover\u00e8d every whit.\n The gentlemen then, having dropt all their store,\n Said, \u2018Now, beggar, hold, for we have no more,\n\n XXXI\n\n \u2018Thou hast fulfilled thy promise aright.\u2019--\n \u2018Then marry,\u2019 quoth he, \u2018my girl to this Knight;\n And here,\u2019 added he, \u2018I will now throw you down\n A hundred pounds more to buy her a gown.\u2019\n\n XXXII\n\n The gentlemen all, that this treasure had seen,\n Admir\u00e8d the beggar of Bednall-green:\n And all those, that were her suitors before,\n Their flesh for very anger they tore.\n\n XXXIII\n\n Thus was fair Bessy match\u2019d to the Knight,\n And then made a lady in others\u2019 despite:\n A fairer lady there never was seen\n Than the blind beggar\u2019s daughter of Bednall-green.\n\n XXXIV\n\n But of their sumptuous marriage and feast,\n What brave lords and knights thither were prest,\n The second fitt shall set forth to your sight\n With marvellous pleasure and wished delight.\n\n\n PART II\n\n XXXV\n\n Of a blind beggar\u2019s daughter most bright,\n That late was betrothed unto a young Knight;\n All the discourse thereof you did see:\n But now comes the wedding of pretty Bessee.\n\n XXXVI\n\n Within a gorgeous palace most brave,\n Adorn\u00e8d with all the cost they could have,\n This wedding was kept most sumptuousl\u00ece,\n And all for the credit of pretty Bessee.\n\n XXXVII\n\n All kind of dainties and delicates sweet\n Were bought for the banquet, as it was most meet;\n Partridge, and plover, and venison most free,\n Against the brave wedding of pretty Bessee.\n\n XXXVIII\n\n This marriage through England was spread by report,\n So that a great number thereto did resort\n Of nobles and gentles in every degree;\n And all for the fame of pretty Bessee.\n\n XXXIX\n\n To church then went this gallant young Knight;\n His bride followed after, an angel most bright,\n With troops of ladies--the like ne\u2019er was seen\n As went with sweet Bessy of Bednall-green.\n\n XL\n\n This marriage being solemnized then,\n With musick performed by the skilfullest men,\n The nobles and gentles sat down at that tide,\n Each one admiring the beautiful bride.\n\n XLI\n\n Now, after the sumptuous dinner was done,\n To talk and to reason a number begun:\n They talk\u2019d of the blind beggar\u2019s daughter most bright,\n And what with his daughter he gave to the Knight.\n\n XLII\n\n Then spake the nobles, \u2018Much marvel have we,\n This jolly blind beggar we cannot here see.\u2019\n \u2018My lords,\u2019 quoth the bride, \u2018my father\u2019s so base,\n He is loth with his presence these states to disgrace.\u2019--\n\n XLIII\n\n \u2018The praise of a woman in question to bring,\n Before her own face, were a flattering thing,\n But we think thy father\u2019s baseness,\u2019 quoth they,\n \u2018Might by thy beauty be clean put away.\u2019\n\n XLIV\n\n They had no sooner these pleasant words spoke,\n But in comes the beggar clad in a silk cloak;\n A fair velvet cap, and a feather had he,\n And now a musician forsooth he would be.\n\n XLV\n\n He had a dainty lute under his arm,\n He touch\u00e8d the strings, which made such a charm,\n Says, \u2018Please you to hear any musick of me,\n I\u2019ll sing you a song of pretty Bessee.\u2019\n\n XLVI\n\n With that his lute he twang\u00e8d straightway,\n And thereon began most sweetly to play;\n And after that lessons were played two or three,\n He strain\u2019d out this song most delicatel\u00ece.\n\n XLVII\n\n \u2018A poor beggar\u2019s daughter did dwell on a green,\n Who for her fairness might well be a queen:\n A blithe bonny lass, and a dainty was she,\n And many one call\u00e8d her pretty Bessee.\n\n XLVIII\n\n \u2018Her father he had no goods, nor no land,\n But begg\u2019d for a penny all day with his hand;\n And yet to her marriage he gave thousands three,\n And still he hath somewhat for pretty Bessee.\n\n XLIX\n\n \u2018And if any one here her birth do disdain,\n Her father is ready, with might and with main,\n To prove she is come of noble degree:\n Therefore never flout at pretty Bessee.\u2019\n\n L\n\n With that the lords and the company round\n With hearty laughter were ready to swound;\n At last said the lords, \u2018Full well we may see,\n The bride and the beggar\u2019s beholden to thee.\u2019\n\n LI\n\n On this the bride all blushing did rise,\n The pearly drops standing within her fair eyes,\n \u2018O pardon my father, grave nobles,\u2019 quoth she,\n \u2018That through blind affection thus doteth on me.\u2019\n\n LII\n\n \u2018If this be thy father,\u2019 the nobles did say,\n \u2018Well may he be proud of this happy day;\n Yet by his countenance well may we see,\n His birth and his fortune did never agree:\n\n LIII\n\n \u2018And therefore, blind man, we pray thee bewray\n (And look that the truth thou to us do say)\n Thy birth and thy parentage, what it may be;\n For the love that thou bearest to pretty Bessee.\u2019--\n\n LIV\n\n \u2018Then give me leave, nobles and gentles, each one,\n One song more to sing, and then I have done;\n And if that it may not win good report,\n Then do not give me a groat for my sport.\n\n LV\n\n \u2018Sir Simon de Montfort my subject shall be;\n Once chief of all the great barons was he,\n Yet fortune so cruel this lord did abase,\n Now lost and forgotten are he and his race.\n\n LVI\n\n \u2018When the barons in arms did King Henry oppose,\n Sir Simon de Montfort their leader they chose;\n A leader of courage undaunted was he,\n And ofttimes he made their enemies flee.\n\n LVII\n\n \u2018At length in the battle on Evesham plain,\n The barons were routed, and Montfort was slain;\n Most fatal that battle did prove unto thee,\n Though thou wast not born then, my pretty Bessee!\n\n LVIII\n\n \u2018Along with the nobles, that fell at that tide,\n His eldest son Henry, who fought by his side,\n Was fell\u2019d by a blow he received in the fight;\n A blow that deprived him for ever of sight.\n\n LIX\n\n \u2018Among the dead bodies all lifeless he lay,\n Till evening drew on of the following day;\n When by a young lady discovered was he;\n And this was thy mother, my pretty Bessee!\n\n LX\n\n \u2018A baron\u2019s fair daughter stept forth in the night\n To search for her father, who fell in the fight,\n And seeing young Montfort, where gasping he lay,\n Was mov\u00e8d with pity, and brought him away.\n\n LXI\n\n \u2018In secret she nurst him, and swag\u00e8d his pain,\n While he through the realm was believed to be slain:\n At length his fair bride she consented to be,\n And made him glad father of pretty Bessee.\n\n LXII\n\n \u2018And now, lest our foes our lives should betray,\n We cloth\u00e8d ourselves in beggars\u2019 array;\n Her jewels she sold, and hither came we:\n All our comfort and care was our pretty Bessee.\n\n LXIII\n\n \u2018And here have we liv\u00e8d in fortune\u2019s despite,\n Though poor, yet contented with humble delight:\n Full forty winters thus have I been\n A silly blind beggar of Bednall-green.\n\n LXIV\n\n \u2018And here, noble lords, is ended the song\n Of one that once to your own rank did belong:\n And thus have you learn\u00e8d a secret from me,\n That ne\u2019er had been known, but for pretty Bessee.\u2019\n\n LXV\n\n Now when the fair company every one,\n Had heard the strange tale in the song he had shown,\n They all were amaz\u00e8d, as well they might be,\n Both at the blind beggar, and pretty Bessee.\n\n LXVI\n\n With that the fair bride they all did embrace,\n Saying, \u2018Sure thou art come of an hon\u2019rable race;\n Thy father likewise is of noble degree,\n And thou art well worthy a lady to be.\u2019\n\n LXVII\n\n Thus was the feast ended with joy and delight,\n A bridegroom most happy then was the young Knight,\n In joy and felicitie long liv\u00e8d he,\n All with his fair lady, the pretty Bessee.\n\n\n\n\n_164. The Loving Ballad of Lord Bateman_\n\n_A Broadside Version of_ \u2018Young Beichan\u2019\n\n\n I\n\n Lord Bateman was a noble lord,\n A noble lord of high degree;\n He shipp\u2019d himself all aboard of a ship,\n Some foreign country for to see.\n\n II\n\n He sail\u00e8d east, he sail\u00e8d west,\n Until he came to famed Turkey,\n Where he was taken and put to prison,\n Until his life was quite weary.\n\n III\n\n All in this prison there grew a tree,\n O there it grew so stout and strong!\n Where he was chain\u2019d all by the middle,\n Until his life was almost gone.\n\n IV\n\n This Turk he had one only daughter,\n The fairest my two eyes e\u2019er see;\n She stole the keys of her father\u2019s prison,\n And swore Lord Bateman she would let go free.\n\n V\n\n O she took him to her father\u2019s cellar,\n And gave to him the best of wine;\n And every health she drank unto him\n Was, \u2018I wish, Lord Bateman, as you was mine.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n \u2018O have you got houses, have you got land,\n And does Northumberland belong to thee?\n And what would you give to the fair young lady\n As out of prison would let you go free?\u2019--\n\n VII\n\n \u2018O I\u2019ve got houses and I\u2019ve got land,\n And half Northumberland belongs to me;\n And I will give it all to the fair young lady\n As out of prison would let me go free.\u2019--\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018O in seven long years, I\u2019ll make a vow\n For seven long years, and keep it strong,\n That if you\u2019ll wed no other woman,\n O I will wed no other man.\u2019\n\n IX\n\n O she took him to her father\u2019s harbour,\n And gave to him a ship of fame,\n Saying, \u2018Farewell, farewell to you, Lord Bateman,\n I fear I never shall see you again!\u2019\n\n X\n\n Now seven long years is gone and past,\n And fourteen days, well known to me;\n She pack\u00e8d up all her gay clothing,\n And swore Lord Bateman she would go see.\n\n XI\n\n O when she arrived at Lord Bateman\u2019s castle,\n How boldly then she rang the bell!\n \u2018Who\u2019s there? who\u2019s there?\u2019 cries the proud young porter,\n \u2018O come unto me pray quickly tell.\u2019--\n\n XII\n\n \u2018O is this here Lord Bateman\u2019s castle,\n And is his lordship here within?\u2019--\n \u2018O yes, O yes,\u2019 cries the proud young porter\n \u2018He\u2019s just now taking his young bride in.\u2019--\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018O bid him to send me a slice of bread\n And a bottle of the very best wine,\n And not forgetting the fair young lady\n As did release him when close confine.\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n O away and away went this proud young porter,\n O away and away and away went he,\n Until he come to Lord Bateman\u2019s chamber,\n When he went down on his bended knee.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018What news, what news, my proud young porter?\n What news, what news? Come tell to me.\u2019--\n \u2018O there is the fairest young lady\n As ever my two eyes did see.\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018She has got rings on every finger,\n And on one finger she has got three;\n With as much gay gold about her middle\n As would buy half Northumberlee.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018O she bids you to send her a slice of bread,\n And a bottle of the very best wine,\n And not forgetting the fair young lady\n As did release you when close confine.\u2019\n\n XVIII\n\n Lord Bateman then in passion flew,\n And broke his sword in splinters three,\n Saying, \u2018I will give half of my father\u2019s land,\n If so be as Sophia has crossed the sea.\u2019\n\n XIX\n\n Then up and spoke this young bride\u2019s mother,\n Who never was heard to speak so free;\n Saying, \u2018You\u2019ll not forget my only daughter,\n If so be as Sophia has crossed the sea.\u2019--\n\n XX\n\n \u2018O it\u2019s true I made a bride of your daughter,\n But she\u2019s neither the better nor the worse for me;\n She came to me with a horse and saddle,\n But she may go home in a coach and three.\u2019\n\n XXI\n\n Lord Bateman then prepared another marriage,\n With both their hearts so full of glee,\n Saying, \u2018I\u2019ll roam no more to foreign countries,\n Now that Sophia has crossed the sea.\u2019\n\n\n\n\n_165. Mary Ambree_\n\n\n I\n\n When captains couragious, whom death could not daunte,\n Did march to the siege of the citty of Gaunt[1301],\n They muster\u2019d their souldiers by two and by three,\n And the foremost in battle was Mary Ambree.\n\n II\n\n When brave Sir John Major was slaine in her sight,\n Who was her true lover, her joy, and delight,\n Because he was slaine most treacherouslie,\n She vow\u2019d to revenge him, did Mary Ambree.\n\n III\n\n She cloth\u00e8d herselfe from the top to the toe\n In buffe of the bravest, most seemelye to showe;\n A faire shirt of mail then slipp\u00e8d on she;\n Was not this a brave bonny lass, Mary Ambree?\n\n IV\n\n A helmet of proofe she strait did provide,\n A strong arminge sword she girt by her side,\n And on each hand a goodly faire gauntlett put shee;\n Was not this a brave bonny lass, Mary Ambree?\n\n V\n\n Then tooke she her sworde and her target in hand,\n Bidding all such as wo\u2019ld to be sworn of her band;\n To wayte on her person came thousand and three:\n Was not this a brave bonny lass, Mary Ambree?\n\n VI\n\n \u2018My soldiers,\u2019 she saith, \u2018soe valiant and bold,\n Nowe follow your captaine, whom you doe beholde;\n Still foremost in battel myself will I be\u2019:\n Was not this a brave bonny lass, Mary Ambree?\n\n VII\n\n Then cry\u2019d out her souldiers, and loude they did say,\n \u2018Soe well thou becomest this gallant array,\n Thy harte and thy weapons soe well do agree,\n There was none that was ever like Mary Ambree.\u2019\n\n VIII\n\n She chear\u00e8d her souldiers, that foughten for life,\n With ancyent[1302] and standard, with drum and with fyfe,\n With brave clanging trumpetts, that sounded so free;\n Was not this a brave bonny lass, Mary Ambree?\n\n IX\n\n \u2018Before I will see the worst of you all\n To come into danger of death or of thrall,\n This hand and this life I will venture so free\u2019:\n Was not this a brave bonny lass, Mary Ambree?\n\n X\n\n She led up her souldiers in battaile array\n Gainst three times theyr number by break of the daye;\n Seven howers in skirmish continu\u00e8d shee:\n Was not this a brave bonny lass, Mary Ambree?\n\n XI\n\n She fill\u00e8d the skyes with the smoke of her shott,\n And her enemyes bodyes with bullets soe hott;\n For one of her owne men a score kill\u00e8d shee:\n Was not this a brave bonny lass, Mary Ambree?\n\n XII\n\n And when her false gunner, to spoyle her intent,\n Away all her pellets and powder had sent,\n Straight with her keen weapon she slasht him in three:\n Was not this a brave bonny lass, Mary Ambree!\n\n XIII\n\n Being falselye betray\u00e8d for lucre of hyre,\n At length she was forc\u00e8d to make a retyre;\n Then her souldiers into a strong castle drew she:\n Was not this a brave bonny lass, Mary Ambree?\n\n XIV\n\n Her foes they beset her on everye side,\n As thinking close siege shee co\u2019ld never abide;\n To beate down the wall\u00e8s they all did decree:\n But stoutlye defyed them brave Mary Ambree.\n\n XV\n\n Then tooke she her sword and her target in hand,\n And mounting the walls all undaunted did stand,\n There daring their captaines to match any three:\n O what a brave captaine was Mary Ambree!\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018Now saye, English captaine, what woldest thou give\n To ransome thy selfe, which else must not live?\n Come yield thy selfe quicklye, or slaine thou must bee.\u2019--\n O then smil\u00e8d sweetlye brave Mary Ambree.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018Ye captaines couragious, of valour so bold,\n Whom thinke you before you now you doe behold?\u2019--\n \u2018A knight, sir, of England, and captaine soe free,\n Who short\u00e8lye with us a pris\u2019ner must bee.\u2019--\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018No captaine of England; behold in your sight\n Two brests in my bosome, and therfore no knight:\n Noe knight, sirs, of England, nor captaine you see,\n But a poor simple lass, call\u00e8d Mary Ambree.\u2019--\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018But art thou a woman, as thou dost declare,\n Whose valor hath prov\u2019d so undaunted in warre?\n If England doth yield such brave lasses as thee,\n Full well may they conquer, faire Mary Ambree!\u2019\n\n XX\n\n Then to her owne country shee backe did returne,\n Still holding the foes of faire England in scorne:\n Therfore, English captaines of every degree,\n Sing forth the brave valours of Mary Ambree!\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1301] Gaunt = Ghent.\n\n[1302] ancyent = ensign.\n\n\n\n\n_166. The Lady turned Serving-Man_\n\n\n I\n\n You beauteous ladies great and small,\n I write unto you, one and all,\n Whereby that you may understand\n What I have suffer\u2019d in this land.\n\n II\n\n I was by birth a lady fair,\n My father\u2019s chief and only heir;\n But when my good old father died,\n Then I was made a young knight\u2019s bride.\n\n III\n\n And then my love built me a bower,\n Bedeck\u2019d with many a fragrant flower;\n A braver bower you ne\u2019er did see\n Than my true love did build for me.\n\n IV\n\n But there came thieves late in the night,\n They robb\u2019d my bower, and slew my knight,\n And after that my knight was slain\n I could no longer there remain.\n\n V\n\n My servants all from me did fly\n In the midst of my extremity,\n And left me by myself alone\n With a heart more cold than any stone.\n\n VI\n\n Yet, though my heart was full of care,\n Heaven would not suffer me to despair;\n Wherefore in haste I changed my name\n From fair Elise to Sweet William.\n\n VII\n\n And therewithal I cut my hair,\n And dress\u2019d myself in man\u2019s attire;\n And in my beaver, hose, and band,\n I travell\u2019d far through many a land.\n\n VIII\n\n With a silver rapier by my side,\n So like a gallant I did ride;\n The thing that I delighted on,\n It was to be a serving-man.\n\n IX\n\n Thus in my sumptuous man\u2019s array\n I bravely rode along the way;\n And at the last it chanc\u00e8d so\n That I to the King\u2019s court did go.\n\n X\n\n Then to the King I bow\u2019d full low,\n My love and duty for to show;\n And so much favour I did crave,\n That I a serving-man\u2019s place might have.\n\n XI\n\n \u2018Stand up, brave youth,\u2019 the King replied,\n \u2018Thy service shall not be denied;\n But tell me first what thou canst do;\n Thou shalt be fitted thereunto.\n\n XII\n\n \u2018Wilt thou be usher of my hall,\n To wait upon my nobles all?\n Or wilt thou be taster of my wine,\n To wait on me when I do dine?\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018Or wilt thou be my chamberlain,\n To make my bed both soft and fine?\n Or wilt thou be one of my guard?\n And I will give thee thy reward.\u2019\n\n XIV\n\n Sweet William, with a smiling face,\n Said to the King, \u2018If\u2019t please your Grace\n To show such favour unto me,\n Your chamberlain I fain would be.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n The King then did the nobles call,\n To ask the counsel of them all;\n Who gave consent Sweet William he\n The King\u2019s own chamberlain should be.\n\n XVI\n\n Now mark what strange thing came to pass:\n As the King one day a-hunting was,\n With all his lords and noble train,\n Sweet William did at home remain.\n\n XVII\n\n Sweet William had no company then\n With him at home, but an old man:\n And when he saw the house was clear,\n He took a lute which he had there:\n\n XVIII\n\n Upon the lute Sweet William play\u2019d,\n And to the same he sang and said,\n With a sweet and noble voice\n Which made the old man to rejoice:\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018My father was as brave a lord\n As ever Europe did afford,\n My mother was a lady bright,\n My husband was a valiant knight:\n\n XX\n\n \u2018And I myself a lady gay,\n Bedeck\u2019d with gorgeous rich array;\n The bravest lady in the land\n Had not more pleasure at command.\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018I had my music every day,\n Harmonious lessons for to play;\n I had my virgins fair and free\n Continually to wait on me.\n\n XXII\n\n \u2018But now, alas! my husband\u2019s dead,\n And all my friends are from me fled;\n My former joys are pass\u2019d and gone,\n For I am now a serving-man.\u2019\n\n XXIII\n\n At last the King from hunting came,\n And presently, upon the same,\n He call\u00e8d for this good old man,\n And thus to speak the King began:\n\n XXIV\n\n \u2018What news, what news, old man?\u2019 quoth he;\n \u2018What news hast thou to tell to me?\u2019--\n \u2018Brave news,\u2019 the old man he did say,\n \u2018Sweet William is a lady gay.\u2019--\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018If this be true thou tell\u2019st to me,\n I\u2019ll make thee lord of high degree;\n But if thy words do prove a lie,\n Thou shall be hang\u2019d up presently.\u2019\n\n XXVI\n\n But when the King the truth had found,\n His joys did more and more abound:\n According as the old man did say,\n Sweet William was a lady gay.\n\n XXVII\n\n Therefore the King without delay\n Put on her glorious rich array,\n And upon her head a crown of gold\n Which was most famous to behold.\n\n XXVIII\n\n And then, for fear of further strife,\n He took Sweet William for his wife:\n The like before was never seen,\n A serving-man to be a queen.\n\n\n\n\n_167. The Simple Ploughboy_\n\n\n I\n\n O the Ploughboy was a-ploughing\n With his horses on the plain,\n And was singing of a song as on went he:\n \u2018Since that I have fall\u2019n in love,\n If the parents disapprove,\n \u2019Tis the first thing that will send me to the sea.\u2019\n\n II\n\n When the parents came to know\n That their daughter loved him so,\n Then they sent a gang, and press\u2019d him for the sea.\n And they made of him a tar,\n To be slain in cruel war;\n Of the simple Ploughboy singing on the lea.\n\n III\n\n The maiden sore did grieve,\n And without a word of leave,\n From her father\u2019s house she fled secretlie,\n In male attire dress\u2019d,\n With a star upon her breast,\n All to seek her simple Ploughboy on the sea.\n\n IV\n\n Then she went o\u2019er hill and plain,\n And she walked in wind and rain,\n Till she came to the brink of the blue sea,\n Saying, \u2018I am forced to rove,\n For the loss of my true love,\n Who is but a simple Ploughboy from the lea.\u2019\n\n V\n\n Now the first she did behold,\n O it was a sailor bold,\n \u2018Have you seen my simple Ploughboy?\u2019 then said she.\n \u2018They have press\u2019d him to the fleet,\n Sent him tossing on the deep,\n Who is but a simple Ploughboy from the lea.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n Then she went to the Capta\u00ecn,\n And to him she made complain,\n \u2018O a silly Ploughboy\u2019s run away from me!\u2019\n Then the Captain smiled and said,\n \u2018Why Sir! surely you\u2019re a maid!\n So the Ploughboy I will render up to thee.\u2019\n\n VII\n\n Then she pull\u00e8d out a store,\n Of five hundred crowns and more,\n And she strew\u2019d them on the deck, did she.\n Then she took him by the hand,\n And she row\u2019d him to the land,\n Where she wed the simple Ploughboy back from sea.\n\n\n\n\n_168. Cawsand Bay_\n\n\n I\n\n In Cawsand Bay lying, with the Blue Peter flying,\n And all hands on deck for the anchor to weigh,\n When off came a lady, as fresh as a daisy,\n And modestly hailing, the damsel did say:\n\n II\n\n \u2018Ship ahoy! bear a hand there! I wants a young man there,\n So heave us a man-rope, or send him to me;\n His name\u2019s Henry Grady, and I am a lady,\n Arrived to prevent him from going to sea.\u2019\n\n III\n\n Now the captain, his honour, when he looked upon her,\n He ran down the side for to hand her on board.\n Cried he, with emotion, \u2018What son of the ocean\n Can thus be looked after by Helena Ford?\u2019\n\n IV\n\n Then the lady made answer, \u2018That there is a man, sir,\n I\u2019ll make him as free as a Duke or a Lord.\u2019--\n \u2018Oh no!\u2019 says the capp\u2019en, \u2018That can\u2019t very well happen,\n I\u2019ve got sailing orders--you, sir, stop on board.\u2019\n\n V\n\n But up spoke the lady, \u2018Don\u2019t you mind him, Hal Grady,\n He once was your capp\u2019en, but now you\u2019re at large.\n You shan\u2019t stop on board her, for all that chap\u2019s order!\u2019\n Then out of her bosom she drew his discharge.\n\n VI\n\n Said the captain, \u2018I\u2019m hang\u2019d now, you\u2019re cool, and I\u2019m bang\u2019d now!\u2019\n Said Hal, \u2018Here, old Weatherface, take all my clothes.\u2019\n And ashore then he steer\u2019d her; the lads they all cheer\u2019d her;\n But the captain was jealous, and looked down his nose.\n\n VII\n\n Then she got a shore tailor to rig up her sailor\n In white nankeen trowsers and long blue-tail\u2019d coat;\n And he looked like a squire, for all to admire,\n With a dimity handkercher tied round his throat.\n\n VIII\n\n They\u2019d a house that was greater than any first-rater,\n With footmen in livery handing the drink,\n And a garden to go in, where flowers were blowing,\n The buttercup, daisy, the lily, the pink.\n\n IX\n\n And he got edication befitting his station\n (For we all of us know we\u2019re not too old to larn);\n And his messmates they found him, his little ones round him,\n All chips of the old block from the stem to the starn.\n\n\n\n\n_169. The Greenland Fishery_\n\n\n I\n\n In seventeen hundred and ninety-four,\n On March the twentieth day;\n We hoist our colours to the mast,\n And for Greenland bore away, brave boys!\n And for Greenland bore away.\n\n II\n\n We were twelve gallant men aboard,\n And to the North did steer:\n Old England left we in our wake--\n We sailors knew no fear, brave boys!\n We sailors knew no fear.\n\n III\n\n Our boatswain to the mast-head went,\n Wi\u2019 a spy glass in his hand;\n He cries, \u2018A whale! a whale doth blow,\n She blows at every span, brave boys!\n She blows at every span.\u2019\n\n IV\n\n Our Captain on the master deck\n (A very good man was he),\n \u2018Overhaul! overhaul! let the boat tackle fall,\n And launch your boat to sea, brave boys!\n And launch your boat to sea.\u2019\n\n V\n\n Our boat being launch\u2019d, and all hands in,\n The whale was full in view;\n Resolved was then each seaman bold\n To steer where the whale-fish blew, brave boys!\n To steer where the whale-fish blew.\n\n VI\n\n The whale was struck, and the line paid out,\n She gave a flash with her tail;\n The boat capsized, and we lost four men,\n And we never caught that whale, brave boys!\n And we never caught that whale.\n\n VII\n\n Bad news we to the Captain brought,\n The loss of four men true.\n A sorrowful man was our Captain then,\n And the colours down he drew, brave boys!\n And the colours down he drew.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018The losing of this whale,\u2019 said he,\n \u2018Doth grieve my heart full sore;\n But the losing of four gallant men\n Doth hurt me ten times more, brave boys!\n Doth hurt me ten times more.\n\n IX\n\n \u2018The winter star doth now appear,\n So, boys, the anchor weigh;\n \u2019Tis time to leave this cold countr\u1ef3,\n And for England bear away, brave boys!\n And for England bear away.\n\n X\n\n \u2018For Greenland is a barren place,\n A land where grows no green,\n But ice and snow, and the whale-fish blow,\n And the daylight\u2019s seldom seen, brave boys!\n And the daylight\u2019s seldom seen!\u2019\n\n\n\n\n_170. The Old Cloak_\n\n\n I\n\n This winter\u2019s weather it waxeth cold,\n And frost it freezeth on every hill,\n And Boreas blows his blast so bold\n That all our cattle are like to spill.\n Bell, my wife, she loves no strife;\n She said unto me quietlye,\n \u2018Rise up, and save cow Crumbock\u2019s life!\n Man, put thine old cloak about thee!\u2019\n\n II\n\n _He._ O Bell my wife, why dost thou flyte[1303]?\n Thou kens my cloak is very thin:\n It is so bare and over worn,\n A crick\u00e8 thereon cannot renn.\n Then I\u2019ll no longer borrow nor lend;\n For once I\u2019ll new apparell\u2019d be;\n To-morrow I\u2019ll to town and spend;\n For I\u2019ll have a new cloak about me.\n\n III\n\n _She._ Cow Crumbock is a very good cow:\n She has been always true to the pail;\n She has help\u2019d us to butter and cheese, I trow,\n And other things she will not fail.\n I would be loth to see her pine.\n Good husband, counsel take of me:\n It is not for us to go so fine--\n Man, take thine old cloak about thee!\n\n IV\n\n _He._ My cloak it was a very good cloak,\n It hath been always true to the wear;\n But now it is not worth a groat:\n I have had it four and forty year\u2019.\n Sometime it was of cloth in grain[1304]:\n \u2019Tis now but a sigh clout[1305], as you may see:\n It will neither hold out wind nor rain;\n And I\u2019ll have a new cloak about me.\n\n V\n\n _She._ It is four and forty years ago\n Sine the one of us the other did ken;\n And we have had, betwixt us two,\n Of children either nine or ten:\n We have brought them up to women and men:\n In the fear of God I trow they be:\n And why wilt thou thyself misken?\n Man, take thine old cloak about thee!\n\n VI\n\n _He._ O Bell my wife, why dost thou flyte?\n Now is now, and then was then:\n Seek now all the world throughout,\n Thou kens not clowns from gentlemen:\n They are clad in black, green, yellow and blue,\n So far above their own degree.\n Once in my life I\u2019ll take a view;\n For I\u2019ll have a new cloak about me.\n\n VII\n\n _She._ King Stephen was a worthy peer;\n His breeches cost him but a crown;\n He held them sixpence all too dear,\n Therefore he called the tailor \u2018lown.\u2019\n He was a king and wore the crown,\n And thou\u2019se but of a low degree:\n It\u2019s pride that puts this country down:\n Man, take thy old cloak about thee!\n\n VIII\n\n _He._ Bell my wife, she loves not strife,\n Yet she will lead me, if she can:\n And to maintain an easy life\n I oft must yield, though I\u2019m good-man.\n It\u2019s not for a man with a woman to threap[1306],\n Unless he first give o\u2019er the plea:\n As we began, so will we keep,\n And I\u2019ll take my old cloak about me.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1303] flyte = scold.\n\n[1304] cloth in grain = scarlet cloth.\n\n[1305] sigh clout = a rag for straining.\n\n[1306] threap = argue.\n\n\n\n\n_171. Widdicombe Fair_\n\n\n I\n\n \u2018Tom Pearse, Tom Pearse, lend me your grey mare,\n All along, down along, out along, lee.\n For I want for to go to Widdicombe Fair,\n Wi\u2019 Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy,\n Dan\u2019l Whiddon, Harry Hawk,\n Old Uncle Tom Cobbleigh and all.\u2019\n _Chorus_. Old Uncle Tom Cobbleigh and all.\n\n II\n\n \u2018And when shall I see again my grey mare?\u2019--\n All along, down along, out along, lee.\n \u2018By Friday soon, or Saturday noon,\n Wi\u2019 Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer,\u2019 &c.\n\n III\n\n Then Friday came, and Saturday noon,\n All along, down along, out along, lee.\n But Tom Pearse\u2019s old mare hath not trotted home,\n Wi\u2019 Bill Brewer, &c.\n\n IV\n\n So Tom Pearse he got up to the top o\u2019 the hill,\n All along, down along, out along, lee.\n And he seed his old mare down a-making her will\n Wi\u2019 Bill Brewer, &c.\n\n V\n\n So Tom Pearse\u2019s old mare, her took sick and her died.\n All along, down along, out along, lee.\n And Tom he sat down on a stone, and he cried.\n Wi\u2019 Bill Brewer, &c.\n\n VI\n\n But this isn\u2019t the end o\u2019 this shocking affair,\n All along, down along, out along, lee.\n Nor, though they be dead, of the horrid career\n Of Bill Brewer, &c.\n\n VII\n\n When the wind whistles cold on the moor of a night,\n All along, down along, out along, lee.\n Tom Pearse\u2019s old mare doth appear, gashly white,\n Wi\u2019 Bill Brewer, &c.\n\n VIII\n\n And all the long night be heard skirling and groans,\n All along, down along, out along, lee.\n From Tom Pearse\u2019s old mare in her rattling bones,\n And from Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney,\n Peter Davy, Dan\u2019l Whiddon, Harry Hawk,\n Old Uncle Tom Cobbleigh and all\n _Chorus._ Old Uncle Tom Cobbleigh and all.\n\n\n\n\n_172. Get up and Bar the Door_\n\n\n I\n\n It fell about the Martinmas time,\n And a gay time it was then,\n When our goodwife got puddings to make,\n And she\u2019s boil\u2019d them in the pan.\n\n II\n\n The wind sae cauld blew south and north,\n And blew into the floor;\n Quoth our goodman to our goodwife,\n \u2018Gae out and bar the door.\u2019--\n\n III\n\n \u2018My hand is in my hussyfskap,\n Goodman, as ye may see;\n An\u2019 it shou\u2019dna be barr\u2019d this hundred year,\n It\u2019s no be barr\u2019d for me\u2019\n\n IV\n\n They made a paction \u2019tween them twa,\n They made it firm and sure,\n That the first word whae\u2019er shou\u2019d speak,\n Shou\u2019d rise and bar the door.\n\n V\n\n Then by there came two gentlemen,\n At twelve o\u2019 clock at night,\n And they could neither see house nor hall,\n Nor coal nor candle-light.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Now whether is this a rich man\u2019s house,\n Or whether is it a poor?\u2019\n But ne\u2019er a word wad ane o\u2019 them speak,\n For barring of the door.\n\n VII\n\n And first they ate the white puddings,\n And then they ate the black.\n Tho\u2019 muckle thought the goodwife to hersel\u2019\n Yet ne\u2019er a word she spake.\n\n VIII\n\n Then said the one unto the other,\n \u2018Here, man, tak ye my knife;\n Do ye tak aff the auld man\u2019s beard,\n And I\u2019ll kiss the goodwife.\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018But there\u2019s nae water in the house,\n And what shall we do than?\u2019--\n \u2018What ails ye at the pudding-broo,\n That boils into the pan?\u2019\n\n X\n\n O up then started our goodman,\n An angry man was he:\n \u2018Will ye kiss my wife before my een,\n And sca\u2019d me wi\u2019 pudding-bree?\u2019\n\n XI\n\n Then up and started our goodwife,\n Gied three skips on the floor:\n \u2018Goodman, you\u2019ve spoken the foremost word!\n Get up and bar the door.\u2019\n\n\n\n\n_173. King John and the Abbot of Canterbury_\n\n\n I\n\n An ancient story I\u2019ll tell you anon\n Of a notable prince, that was call\u00e8d King John;\n And he rul\u00e8d England with maine and with might,\n For he did great wrong, and maintein\u2019d little right.\n\n II\n\n And I\u2019ll tell you a story, a story so merrye,\n Concerning the Abbot of Canterb\u00f9rye;\n How, for his house-keeping and high renowne,\n They rode poste for him to fair London towne.\n\n III\n\n An hundred men, the King did heare say,\n The Abbot kept in his house every day;\n And fifty golde chaynes, without any doubt,\n In velvet coates waited the Abbot about.\n\n IV\n\n \u2018How now, Father Abbot, I heare it of thee\n Thou keepest a farre better house than mee,\n And for thy house-keeping and high renowne,\n I feare thou work\u2019st treason against my crown.\u2019--\n\n V\n\n \u2018My liege,\u2019 quo\u2019 the Abbot, \u2018I would it were knowne,\n I never spend nothing, but what is my owne;\n And I trust your Grace will doe me no deere\n For spending of my owne true-gotten geere.\u2019\n\n VI\n\n \u2018Yes, yes, Father Abbot, thy fault it is highe,\n And now for the same thou needest must dye;\n For except thou canst answer me questions three,\n Thy head shall be smitten from thy bod\u00ece.\n\n VII\n\n \u2018And first,\u2019 quo\u2019 the King, \u2018when I\u2019m in this stead,\n With my crowne of golde so faire on my head,\n Among all my liege-men so noble of birthe,\n Thou must tell me to one penny what I am worthe.\n\n VIII\n\n \u2018Secondlye, tell me, without any doubt,\n How soone I may ride the whole worlde about.\n And at the third question thou must not shrinke,\n But tell me here truly what I do thinke.\u2019--\n\n IX\n\n \u2018O, these are hard questions for my shallow witt,\n Nor I cannot answer your Grace as yet:\n But if you will give me but three weekes space,\n I\u2019ll do my endeavour to answer your Grace.\n\n X\n\n \u2018Now three weekes space to thee will I give,\n And that is the longest time thou hast to live;\n For if thou dost not answer my questions three,\n Thy lands and thy livings are forfeit to mee.\u2019\n\n XI\n\n Away rode the Abbot all sad at that word,\n And he rode to Cambridge, and Oxenford;\n But never a doctor there was so wise,\n That could with his learning an answer devise.\n\n XII\n\n Then home rode the Abbot of comfort so cold,\n And he mett with his shepheard a-going to fold:\n \u2018How now, my lord Abbot, you are welcome home;\n What newes do you bring us from good King John?\u2019--\n\n XIII\n\n \u2018Sad newes, sad newes, shepheard, I must give;\n That I have but three days more to live:\n For if I do not answer him questions three,\n My head will be smitten from my bod\u00ece.\n\n XIV\n\n \u2018The first is to tell him there in that stead,\n With his crowne of golde so fair on his head,\n Among all his liege-men so noble of birthe,\n To within one penny of what he is worthe.\n\n XV\n\n \u2018The seconde, to tell him, without any doubt,\n How soone he may ride this whole worlde about:\n And at the third question I must not shrinke,\n But tell him there truly what he does thinke.\u2019--\n\n XVI\n\n \u2018Now cheare up, sire Abbot, did you never hear yet,\n That a fool he may learn a wise man witt?\n Lend me horse, and serving-men, and your apparel,\n And I\u2019ll ride to London to answere your quarrel.\n\n XVII\n\n \u2018Nay frowne not, if it hath bin told unto mee,\n I am like your lordship, as ever may bee:\n And if you will but lend me your gowne,\n There is none shall knowe us at fair London towne.\u2019--\n\n XVIII\n\n \u2018Now horses and serving-men thou shall have,\n With sumptuous array most gallant and brave,\n With crozier, and miter, and rochet, and cope,\n Fit to appeare \u2019fore our Father the Pope.\u2019--\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018Now welcome, sire Abbot,\u2019 the King he did say,\n \u2018\u2019Tis well thou\u2019rt come back to keepe thy day;\n For and if thou canst answer my questions three,\n Thy life and thy living both sav\u00e8d shall bee.\n\n XX\n\n \u2018And first, when thou seest me here in this stead,\n With my crown of golde so fair on my head,\n Among all my liege-men so noble of birthe,\n Tell me to one penny what I am worthe.\u2019--\n\n XXI\n\n \u2018For thirty pence our Saviour was sold\n Amonge the false Jewes, as I have bin told;\n And twenty-nine is the worthe of thee,\n For I thinke thou art one penny worser than hee.\u2019\n\n XXII\n\n The King he laughed, and swore by St. Bittel,\n \u2018I did not thinke I had been worthe so littel!\n --Now secondly tell me, without any doubt,\n How soone I may ride this whole world about.\u2019--\n\n XXIII\n\n \u2018You must rise with the sun, and ride with the same,\n Until the next morning he riseth againe;\n And then your Grace need not make any doubt,\n But in twenty-four hours you\u2019ll ride it about.\u2019\n\n XXIV\n\n The King he laughed, and swore by St. Jone,\n \u2018I did not think it could be gone so soone!\n --Now from the third question thou must not shrinke,\n But tell me here truly what I do thinke.\u2019--\n\n XXV\n\n \u2018Yea, that shall I do, and make your Grace merry:\n You thinke I\u2019m the Abbot of Canterb\u00f9rye;\n But I\u2019m his poor shepheard, as plain you may see,\n That am come to beg pardon for him and for mee.\u2019\n\n XXVI\n\n The King he laughed, and swore by the Masse,\n \u2018I\u2019ll make thee Lord Abbot this day in his place!\u2019--\n \u2018Now naye, my liege, be not in such speede,\n For alacke I can neither write, ne reade.\u2019--\n\n XXVII\n\n \u2018Four nobles a weeke, then, I will give thee\n For this merry jest thou hast showne unto mee;\n And tell the old Abbot when thou comest home,\n Thou hast brought him a pardon from good King John.\n\n\n\n\n_174. The Children in the Wood_\n\n\n I\n\n Now ponder well, you parents dear,\n These words which I shall write;\n A doleful story you shall hear,\n In time brought forth to light.\n A gentleman of good account\n In Norfolk dwelt of late,\n Who did in honour far surmount\n Most men of his estate.\n\n II\n\n Sore sick he was and like to die,\n No help his life could save;\n His wife by him as sick did lie,\n And both possest one grave.\n No love between these two was lost,\n Each was to other kind;\n In love they lived, in love they died,\n And left two babes behind:\n\n III\n\n The one a fine and pretty boy\n Not passing three years old,\n The other a girl more young than he,\n And framed in beauty\u2019s mould.\n The father left his little son,\n As plainly did appear,\n When he to perfect age should come,\n Three hundred pounds a year;\n\n IV\n\n And to his little daughter Jane\n Five hundred pounds in gold,\n To be paid down on marriage-day,\n Which might not be controll\u2019d.\n But if the children chanced to die\n Ere they to age should come,\n Their uncle should possess their wealth;\n For so the will did run.\n\n V\n\n \u2018Now, brother,\u2019 said the dying man,\n \u2018Look to my children dear;\n Be good unto my boy and girl,\n No friends else have they here:\n To God and you I recommend\n My children dear this day;\n But little while be sure we have\n Within this world to stay.\n\n VI\n\n \u2018You must be father and mother both,\n And uncle, all in one;\n God knows what will become of them\n When I am dead and gone.\u2019\n With that bespake their mother dear:\n \u2018O brother kind,\u2019 quoth she,\n \u2018You are the man must bring our babes\n To wealth or misery!\n\n VII\n\n \u2018And if you keep them carefully,\n Then God will you reward;\n But if you otherwise should deal,\n God will your deeds regard.\u2019\n With lips as cold as any stone,\n They kiss\u2019d their children small:\n \u2018God bless you both, my children dear!\u2019\n With that the tears did fall.\n\n VIII\n\n These speeches then their brother spake\n To this sick couple there:\n \u2018The keeping of your little ones,\n Sweet sister, do not fear;\n God never prosper me nor mine,\n Nor aught else that I have,\n If I do wrong your children dear\n When you are laid in grave!\u2019\n\n IX\n\n The parents being dead and gone,\n The children home he takes,\n And brings them straight unto his house,\n Where much of them he makes.\n He had not kept these pretty babes\n A twelvemonth and a day,\n But, for their wealth, he did devise\n To make them both away.\n\n X\n\n He bargain\u2019d with two ruffians strong,\n Which were of furious mood,\n That they should take these children young,\n And slay them in a wood.\n He told his wife an artful tale:\n He would the children send\n To be brought up in London town\n With one that was his friend.\n\n XI\n\n Away then went those pretty babes,\n Rejoicing at that tide,\n Rejoicing with a merry mind\n They should on cock-horse ride.\n They prate and prattle pleasantly,\n As they ride on the way,\n To those that should their butchers be\n And work their lives\u2019 decay:\n\n XII\n\n So that the pretty speech they had\n Made Murder\u2019s heart relent;\n And they that undertook the deed\n Full sore did now repent.\n Yet one of them, more hard of heart,\n Did vow to do his charge,\n Because the wretch that hir\u00e8d him\n Had paid him very large.\n\n XIII\n\n The other won\u2019t agree thereto,\n So here they fall to strife;\n With one another they did fight\n About the children\u2019s life:\n And he that was of mildest mood\n Did slay the other there,\n Within an unfrequented wood.--\n The babes did quake for fear!\n\n XIV\n\n He took the children by the hand,\n Tears standing in their eye,\n And bade them straightway follow him,\n And look they did not cry;\n And two long miles he led them on,\n While they for food complain:\n \u2018Stay here,\u2019 quoth he; \u2018I\u2019ll bring you bread\n When I come back again.\u2019\n\n XV\n\n These pretty babes, with hand in hand,\n Went wandering up and down;\n But never more could see the man\n Approaching from the town.\n Their pretty lips with blackberries\n Were all besmear\u2019d and dyed;\n And when they saw the darksome night,\n They sat them down and cried.\n\n XVI\n\n Thus wander\u2019d these poor innocents,\n Till death did end their grief;\n In one another\u2019s arms they died,\n As wanting due relief:\n No burial this pretty pair\n From any man receives,\n Till Robin Redbreast piously\n Did cover them with leaves.\n\n XVII\n\n And now the heavy wrath of God\n Upon their uncle fell;\n Yea, fearful fiends did haunt his house,\n His conscience felt an hell:\n His barns were fired, his goods consumed,\n His lands were barren made,\n His cattle died within the field,\n And nothing with him stay\u2019d.\n\n XVIII\n\n And in a voyage to Portugal\n Two of his sons did die;\n And, to conclude, himself was brought\n To want and misery:\n He pawn\u2019d and mortgaged all his land\n Ere seven years came about.\n And now at last his wicked act\n Did by this means come out.\n\n XIX\n\n The fellow that did take in hand\n These children for to kill,\n Was for a robbery judged to die,\n Such was God\u2019s blessed will:\n Who did confess the very truth,\n As here hath been display\u2019d:\n The uncle having died in jail,\n Where he for debt was laid.\n\n XX\n\n You that executors be made,\n And overse\u00ebrs eke,\n Of children that be fatherless,\n And infants mild and meek,\n Take you example by this thing,\n And yield to each his right,\n Lest God with suchlike misery\n Your wicked minds requite.\n\n\n\n\n_175. The Suffolk Miracle_\n\n\n I\n\n A wonder stranger ne\u2019er was known\n Than what I now shall treat upon.\n In Suffolk there did lately dwell\n A farmer rich and known full well.\n\n II\n\n He had a daughter fair and bright,\n On whom he placed his chief delight;\n Her beauty was beyond compare,\n She was both virtuous and fair.\n\n III\n\n A young man there was living by,\n Who was so charm\u00e8d with her eye,\n That he could never be at rest;\n He was by love so much possest.\n\n IV\n\n He made address to her, and she\n Did grant him love immediately;\n But when her father came to hear,\n He parted her and her poor dear.\n\n V\n\n Forty miles distant was she sent,\n Unto his brother\u2019s, with intent\n That she should there so long remain,\n Till she had changed her mind again.\n\n VI\n\n Hereat this young man sadly grieved,\n But knew not how to be relieved;\n He sigh\u2019d and sobb\u2019d continually\n That his true love he could not see.\n\n VII\n\n She by no means could to him send,\n Who was her heart\u2019s espous\u00e8d friend;\n He sigh\u2019d, he grieved, but all in vain,\n For she confined must still remain.\n\n VIII\n\n He mourn\u2019d so much that doctor\u2019s art\n Could give no ease unto his heart,\n Who was so strangely terrified\n That in short time for love he died.\n\n IX\n\n She that from him was sent away\n Knew nothing of his dying day;\n But constant still she did remain,\n And loved the dead, although in vain.\n\n X\n\n After he had in grave been laid\n A month or more, unto this maid\n He comes in middle of the night,\n Who joy\u2019d to see her heart\u2019s delight.\n\n XI\n\n Her father\u2019s horse which well she knew,\n Her mother\u2019s hood and safeguard[1307] too,\n He brought with him to testify\n Her parents\u2019 order he came by.\n\n XII\n\n Which when her uncle understood,\n He hoped it would be for her good,\n And gave consent to her straightway\n That with him she should come away.\n\n XIII\n\n When she was got her love behind,\n They pass\u2019d as swift as any wind,\n That in two hours, or little more,\n He brought her to her father\u2019s door.\n\n XIV\n\n But as they did this great haste make,\n He did complain his head did ache;\n Her handkerchief she then took out,\n And tied the same his head about.\n\n XV\n\n And unto him she thus did say:\n \u2018Thou art as cold as any clay,\n When we come home a fire we\u2019ll have\u2019;\n But little dream\u2019d he went to grave.\n\n XVI\n\n Soon were they at her father\u2019s door,\n And after she ne\u2019er saw him more;\n \u2018I\u2019ll set the horse up,\u2019 then he said,\n And there he left this harmless maid.\n\n XVII\n\n She knock\u2019d, and straight a man he cried,\n \u2018Who\u2019s there?\u2019 \u2018\u2019Tis I,\u2019 she then replied;\n Who wonder\u2019d much her voice to hear,\n And was possest with dread and fear.\n\n XVIII\n\n Her father he did tell, and then\n He stared like an affrighted man:\n Down stairs he ran, and when he see her,\n Cried out, \u2018My child, how cam\u2019st thou here?\u2019\n\n XIX\n\n \u2018Pray, sir, did you not send for me\n By such a messenger?\u2019 said she:\n Which made his hair stand on his head,\n As knowing well that he was dead.\n\n XX\n\n \u2018Where is he?\u2019 then to her he said.--\n \u2018He\u2019s in the stable,\u2019 quoth the maid.--\n \u2018Go in,\u2019 said he, \u2018and go to bed;\n I\u2019ll see the horse well litter\u00e8d.\u2019\n\n XXI\n\n He stared about, and there could he\n No shape of any mankind see,\n But found his horse all on a sweat;\n Which made him in a deadly fret.\n\n XXII\n\n His daughter he said nothing to,\n Nor no-one else (though well they knew\n That he was dead a month before),\n For fear of grieving her full sore.\n\n XXIII\n\n Her father to his father went\n Who was deceased, with full intent\n To tell him what his daughter said;\n So both came back unto this maid.\n\n XXIV\n\n They ask\u2019d her, and she still did say\n \u2019Twas he that then brought her away;\n Which when they heard, they were amazed,\n And on each other strangely gazed.\n\n XXV\n\n A handkerchief she said she tied\n About his head, and that they tried;\n The sexton they did speak unto\n That he the grave would then undo.\n\n XXVI\n\n Affrighted then they did behold\n His body turning into mould,\n And though he had a month been dead\n This kerchief was about his head.\n\n XXVII\n\n This thing unto her then they told,\n And the whole truth they did unfold.\n She was thereat so terrified\n And grieved, she quickly after died.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1307] safeguard = riding-skirt.\n\n\n\n\n_176. Bessie Bell and Mary Gray_\n\n\n I\n\n O Bessie Bell and Mary Gray,\n They war twa bonnie lasses;\n They biggit[1308] a bower on yon burn-brae,\n And theekit[1309] it o\u2019er wi\u2019 rashes.\n\n II\n\n They theekit it o\u2019er wi\u2019 rashes green,\n They theekit it o\u2019er wi\u2019 heather;\n But the pest cam frae the burrows-town,\n And slew them baith thegither.\n\n III\n\n They thought to lye in Methven kirkyard,\n Amang their noble kin;\n But they maun lye in Stronach haugh[1310],\n To biek[1311] forenent the sin[1312].\n\n IV\n\n And Bessie Bell and Mary Gray,\n They war twa bonnie lasses;\n They biggit a bower on yon burn-brae,\n And theekit it o\u2019er wi\u2019 rashes.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1308] biggit = built.\n\n[1309] theekit = thatched.\n\n[1310] haugh = water-mead.\n\n[1311] biek = bask.\n\n[1312] sin = sun.\n\n\n\n\n\nINDEX OF FIRST LINES\n\n\nThe numbers are ballad numbers, not page numbers.\n\nA fair maid sat in her bower door 72\n\nA ship I have got in the North Country 132\n\nA wonder stranger ne\u2019er was known 175\n\nAbout Yule when the wind blew cule 82\n\nAdieu, madame, my mother dear 151\n\nA\u2019 the boys of merry Lincoln 79\n\nAll the trees they are so high 156\n\nAll under the leaves and the leaves of life 111\n\nAn ancient story I\u2019ll tell you anon 173\n\nAn earthly nourrice sits and sings 31\n\nAnnan water\u2019s wading deep 92\n\nAs I pass\u2019d by a river side 102\n\nAs I sat under a sycamore tree 104\n\nAs I was a-walking mine alane 140\n\nAs I was cast in my first sleepe 59\n\nAs I was walking all alane 67\n\nAs I was walking mine alane 11\n\nAs it befel in midsummer-time 130\n\nAs it fell on a holy-day 133\n\nAs it fell on one holy-day 50\n\nAs it fell out on a long summer\u2019s day 62\n\nAs it fell out one May morning 110\n\nAs it fell out upon a day 109\n\n\nBe it right or wrong these men among 69\n\n_But how many months be in the year?_ 118\n\nBy Arthur\u2019s Dale as late I went 74\n\n\n_Can I not sing but \u2018Hoy\u2019_ 103\n\nChilde Maurice hunted the Silver Wood 47\n\nChilde Waters in his stable stood 46\n\nClerk Colven and his gay ladie 29\n\nClerk Saunders and may Margaret 27\n\nCome, all you brave gallants, and listen a while 119\n\nCome, gentlemen all, and listen a while 120\n\nCome listen to me, yon gallants so free 121\n\nCospatrick has sent o\u2019er the faem 5\n\n\nDer lived a king inta da aste 15\n\n\nErlinton had a fair daughter 37\n\nEttrick Forest is a fair forest 84\n\n\nFair Margret was a proud ladye 26\n\nFalse Sir John a-wooing came 10\n\nFoul fa\u2019 the breast first treason bred in! 139\n\nFour-and-twenty nobles rade to the King\u2019s ha\u2019 85\n\n\nGlasgerion was a King\u2019s own son 40\n\nGod! let never soe old a man 53\n\nGod send the land deliverance 146\n\nGude Lord Scroope\u2019s to the hunting gane 143\n\n\nHearken to me, gentlemen 41\n\nHer mother died when she was young 13\n\nHie upon Hielands 96\n\nHit wes upon a Scere-thorsday 97\n\nHynd Horn\u2019s bound, love, and Hynd Horn\u2019s free 35\n\n\n\u2018I am as brown as brown can be 157\n\nI have heard talk of bold Robin Hood 123\n\n\u2018I heard a cow low, a bonnie cow low 7\n\nI herde a carpyng of a clerk 112\n\nI was a lady of high renown 87\n\n\u2018I was but seven year auld 14\n\nI wish I were where Helen lies 152\n\nIn Cawsand Bay lying, with the Blue Peter flying 168\n\nIn London was Young Beichan born 45\n\nIn Scarlet town, where I was born 158\n\nIn seventeen hundred and ninety-four 169\n\nIn somer, when the shawes be sheyne 117\n\nIn summer time, when leaves grow green 118\n\nIn summer time, when leaves grow green 124\n\nIn the third day of May 17\n\nInverey cam\u2019 doun Deeside, whistlin\u2019 and playin\u2019 149\n\nIt fell about the Lammas tide 127\n\nIt fell about the Martinmas 77\n\nIt fell about the Martinmas time 172\n\nIt fell about the Martinmas tyde 141\n\nIt fell on a day, and a bonnie simmer day 135\n\nIt fell upon a Wadensday 21\n\nIt\u2019s Lamkin was a mason good 78\n\nIt\u2019s narrow, narrow, mak your bed 42\n\nIt was a blind beggar, had long lost his sight 163\n\nIt was a knight in Scotland born 71\n\nIt was intill a pleasant time 25\n\nIt was the worthy Lord of Lorn 76\n\n\nJesus, Lord mickle of might 3\n\nJohnnie rose up in a May morning 136\n\nJoseph was an old man 101\n\n\nKing Easter has courted her for her lands 70\n\nKinge Arthur lives in merry Carlisle 19\n\n\nLady Alice was sitting in her bower-window 154\n\nLate at e\u2019en, drinkin\u2019 the wine 150\n\nLet never a man a wooing wend 16\n\nLithe and listen, Gentlemen 115\n\nLord Bateman was a noble lord 164\n\nLord Ingram and Childe Vyet 51\n\nLord Lovel he stood at his castle-gate 155\n\nLord Thomas and Fair Annet 54\n\nLordings, listen, and hold you still 126\n\nLully, lulley! lully, lulley! 100\n\n\nMarie Hamilton\u2019s to the kirk gane 83\n\nMark this song, for it is true 108\n\nMay Margaret sits in her bower door 36\n\nMery it was in the grene foreste 114\n\n\u2018My love has built a bonny ship, and set her on the sea 160\n\nMy love he built me a bonny bower 153\n\nMy plaid awa\u2019, my plaid awa\u2019 8\n\n\nNow is Christ\u00ebmas y-come 107\n\nNow Liddesdale has lain lang in 142\n\nNow Liddesdale has ridden a raid 138\n\nNow list and lithe, you gentlemen 129\n\nNow ponder well, you parents dear 174\n\n\nO Alison Gross, that lives in yon tow\u2019r 12\n\nO Bessie Bell and Mary Gray 176\n\nO bonny Baby Livingston 147\n\n\u2018O brent\u2019s your brow, my Lady Elspat 86\n\nO did ye ever hear o\u2019 brave Earl Brand? 38\n\nO have ye na heard o\u2019 the fause Sakelde? 137\n\nO heard ye na o\u2019 the silly blind Harper 144\n\n\u2018O I forbid you, maidens a\u2019 2\n\nO Jellon Grame sit in Silverwood 49\n\n\u2018O lady, rock never your young son young 30\n\nO Rose the Red and White Lilly 55\n\nO the Ploughboy was a ploughing 167\n\n\u2018O well\u2019s me o\u2019 my gay goss-hawk 60\n\n\u2018O wha will shoe my bonny foot? 43\n\nO wha would wish the wind to blau 48\n\n\u2018O where hae ye been, Lord Randal, my son? 66\n\n\u2018O where hae ye been, my long, long love 28\n\nO Willie\u2019s large o\u2019 limb and lith 113\n\n_O wow for day!_ 50\n\nOf a\u2019 the maids o\u2019 fair Scotland 91\n\nOur King he kept a false steward 4\n\n\nPrince Robert has wedded a gay ladye 58\n\n\n\u2018Rise up, rise up, now Lord Douglas,\u2019 she says 39\n\n\nSaies, \u2018Come here, cuzen Gawaine so gay 18\n\nSaint Stephen was a clerk 98\n\nShe lean\u2019d her back unto a thorn 22\n\nSum speiks of lords, sum speiks of lairds 89\n\nSweet Willy\u2019s taen him o\u2019er the faem 6\n\n\nThe Angel Gabriel from God 106\n\nThe bonny heir, and the well faur\u2019d heir 80\n\nThe Duke of Gordon had three daughters 94\n\nThe eighteenth of October 145\n\nThe first good joy our Mary had 105\n\nThe gardener stands in his bower door 159\n\nThe _George-Aloe_, and the _Sweepstake_, too 131\n\nThe king sits in Dunfermline town 75\n\nThe maid she went to the well to washe 99\n\nThe Percy out of Northumberland 128\n\nThe shepard upon a hill he sat 103\n\n\u2018The wind doth blow to-day, my love 34\n\nThe young lords o\u2019 the north country 73\n\nThere are twelve months in all the year 122\n\nThere cam\u2019 seven Egyptians on a day 148\n\n\u2018There is a feast in your father\u2019s house 56\n\nThere lived a wife at Usher\u2019s well 32\n\nThere was a knight and a lady bright 24\n\nThere was a may, and a weel-far\u2019d may 88\n\nThere was a rich lord, and he lived in Forfar 20\n\nThere was a youth, and a well-belov\u00e8d youth 162\n\nThere were three ladies play\u2019d at the ba\u2019 64\n\nThere were three ravens sat on a tree 68\n\nThere were three sisters fair and bright 9\n\nThere were twa brethren in the North 63\n\nThere were twa sisters sat in a bour 23\n\nThere where three ladies live in a bower 57\n\nThis ae nighte, this ae nighte 33\n\nThis winter\u2019s weather it waxeth cold 170\n\n\u2018Tom Pearse, Tom Pearse, lend me your grey mare 171\n\nTrue Thomas lay on Huntlie bank 1\n\n\u2018Turn, Willie Macintosh 134\n\n\nWhen captains couragious whom death could not daunte 165\n\nWhen Robin Hood and Little John 125\n\nWhen shaws beene sheene, and shradds full fayre 116\n\nWhen we were silly sisters seven 81\n\n\u2018Why does your brand sae drop wi\u2019 blude 65\n\nWill you hear a Spanish lady 161\n\nWillie stands in his stable door 90\n\n\u2018Willie, Willie, what makes you sae sad?\u2019 61\n\n\u2018Willy\u2019s rare, and Willy\u2019s fair 93\n\n\nYe Highlands and ye Lawlands 95\n\n\u2018Ye maun gang to your father, Janet 52\n\nYou beauteous ladies great and small 166\n\nYoung Bekie was as brave a knight 44","title":"The Oxford Book of Ballads","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":149678}