Chapter V: Part 5

13.
'Sink on, nor hope for hand or glove,'
_Binnorie, O Binnorie!_
'And sweet William shall better be my love,'
_By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie._

14.
'Your cherry cheeks and your yellow hair,'
_Binnorie, O Binnorie!_
'Garr'd me gang maiden evermair,'
_By the bonnie mill-dams o' Binnorie._

15.
Sometimes she sunk, and sometimes she swam,
_Binnorie, O Binnorie!_
Until she came to the miller's dam,
_By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie._

16.
'O father, father, draw your dam!'
_Binnorie, O Binnorie!_
'There's either a mermaid or a milk-white swan,'
_By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie._

17.
The miller hasted and drew his dam,
_Binnorie, O Binnorie!_
And there he found a drowned woman,
_By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie._

18.
You could not see her yellow hair,
_Binnorie, O Binnorie!_
For gowd and pearls that were sae rare,
_By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie._

19.
You could na see her middle sma',
_Binnorie, O Binnorie!_
Her gowden girdle was sae bra',
_By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie._

20.
An' by there came a harper fine,
_Binnorie, O Binnorie!_
That harped to the king at dine,
_By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie._

21.
When he did look that lady upon,
_Binnorie, O Binnorie!_
He sigh'd and made a heavy moan,
_By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie._

22.
He's ta'en three locks o' her yallow hair,
_Binnorie, O Binnorie!_
And wi' them strung his harp sae fair,
_By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie._

23.
The first tune he did play and sing,
_Binnorie, O Binnorie!_
Was, 'Farewell to my father the king,'
_By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie._

24.
The nextin tune that he play'd syne,
_Binnorie, O Binnorie!_
Was, 'Farewell to my mother the queen,'
_By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie._

25.
The lasten tune that he play'd then,
_Binnorie, O Binnorie!_
Was, 'Wae to my sister, fair Ellen!'
_By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie._

[Annotations:
8.3: 'jaw,' wave.
11.3: 'my world's make,' my earthly mate.]

YOUNG WATERS

+The Text+ is that of a copy mentioned by Percy, 'printed not long since at Glasgow, in one sheet 8vo. The world was indebted for its publication to the lady Jean Hume, sister to the Earle of Hume, who died lately at Gibraltar.' The original edition, discovered by Mr. Macmath after Professor Child's version (from the _Reliques_) was in print, is:-- 'Young Waters, an Ancient Scottish Poem, never before printed. Glasgow, printed and sold by Robert and Andrew Foulis, 1755.' This was also known to Maidment. Hardly a word differs from Percy's version; but here I have substituted the spellings 'wh' for Percy's 'quh,' in 'quhen,' etc., and 'y' for his 'z' in 'zoung, zou,' etc.

+The Story+ has had historical foundations suggested for it by Percy and Chambers. Percy identified Young Waters with the Earl of Murray, murdered, according to the chronicle of Sir James Balfour, on the 7th of February 1592. Chambers, in 1829, relying on Buchan's version of the ballad, had no doubt that Young Waters was one of the Scots nobles executed by James I., and was very probably Walter Stuart, second son of the Duke of Albany. Thirty years later, Chambers was equally certain that the ballad was the composition of Lady Wardlaw.

In a Scandinavian ballad, Folke Lovmandson is a favourite at court; a little wee page makes the fatal remark and excites the king's jealousy. The innocent knight is rolled down a hill in a barrel set with knives--a punishment common in Scandinavian folklore.

YOUNG WATERS

1.
About Yule, when the wind blew cule,
And the round tables began,
A there is cum to our king's court
Mony a well-favor'd man.

2.
The queen luikt owre the castle-wa',
Beheld baith dale and down,
And there she saw Young Waters
Cum riding to the town.

3.
His footmen they did rin before,
His horsemen rade behind;
Ane mantel of the burning gowd
Did keip him frae the wind.

4.
Gowden-graith'd his horse before,
And siller-shod behind;
The horse Young Waters rade upon
Was fleeter than the wind.

5.
Out then spack a wylie lord,
Unto the queen said he:
'O tell me wha 's the fairest face
Rides in the company?'

6.
'I've sene lord, and I've sene laird,
And knights of high degree,
Bot a fairer face than Young Waters
Mine eyne did never see.'

7.
Out then spack the jealous king,
And an angry man was he:
'O if he had bin twice as fair,
You micht have excepted me.'

8.
'You're neither laird nor lord,' she says,
'Bot the king that wears the crown;
There is not a knight in fair Scotland
Bot to thee maun bow down.'

9.
For a' that she coud do or say,
Appeas'd he wad nae bee,
Bot for the words which she had said,
Young Waters he maun die.

10.
They hae ta'en Young Waters,
And put fetters to his feet;
They hae ta'en Young Waters, and
Thrown him in dungeon deep.

11.
'Aft have I ridden thro' Stirling town,
In the wind bot and the weit;
Bot I neir rade thro' Stirling town
Wi' fetters at my feet.

12.
'Aft have I ridden thro' Stirling town,
In the wind bot and the rain;
Bot I neir rade thro' Stirling town
Neir to return again.'

13.
They hae ta'en to the heiding-hill
His young son in his craddle,
And they hae ta'en to the heiding-hill
His horse bot and his saddle.

14.
They hae ta'en to heiding-hill
His lady fair to see,
And for the words the queen had spoke
Young Waters he did die.

[Annotations:
1.2: 'round tables,' an unknown game.
4.1: 'graith'd,' harnessed, usually; here perhaps shod.
6.1: 'laird,' a landholder, below the degree of knight.--+Jamieson+.
13.1: 'heiding-hill': _i.e._ heading (beheading) hill. The place of
execution was anciently an artificial hillock.--+Percy+.]

BARBARA ALLAN

+The Text+ is from Allan Ramsay's _Tea-Table Miscellany_ (1763). It was not included in the first edition (1724-1727), nor until the ninth edition in 1740, when to the original three volumes there was added a fourth, in which this ballad appeared. There is also a Scotch version, _Sir John Grehme and Barbara Allan_. Percy printed both in the _Reliques_, vol. iii.

+The Story+ of Barbara Allan's scorn of her lover and subsequent regret has always been popular. Pepys records of Mrs. Knipp, 'In perfect pleasure I was to hear her sing, and especially her little Scotch song of Barbary Allen' (January 2, 1665-6). Goldsmith's words are equally well known: 'The music of the finest singer is dissonance to what I felt when an old dairymaid sung me into tears with _Johnny Armstrong's Last Goodnight_, or _The Cruelty of Barbara Allen_.' The tune is excessively popular: it is given in Chappell's _English Song and Ballad Music_.

BARBARA ALLAN

1.
It was in and about the Martinmas time,
When the green leaves were afalling,
That Sir John Graeme, in the West Country,
Fell in love with Barbara Allan.

2.
He sent his men down through the town,
To the place where she was dwelling;
'O haste and come to my master dear,
Gin ye be Barbara Allan.'

3.
O hooly, hooly rose she up,
To the place where he was lying,
And when she drew the curtain by,
'Young man, I think you're dying.'

4.
'O it's I am sick, and very, very sick,
And 't is a' for Barbara Allan.'
'O the better for me ye 's never be,
Tho' your heart's blood were aspilling.'

5.
'O dinna ye mind, young man,' said she,
'When ye was in the tavern a drinking,
That ye made the healths gae round and round,
And slighted Barbara Allan?'

6.
He turn'd his face unto the wall,
And death was with him dealing;
'Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all,
And be kind to Barbara Allan.'

7.
And slowly, slowly raise she up,
And slowly, slowly left him,
And sighing, said, she coud not stay,
Since death of life had reft him.

8.
She had not gane a mile but twa,
When she heard the dead-bell ringing,
And every jow that the dead-bell geid,
It cry'd, 'Woe to Barbara Allan!'

9.
'O mother, mother, make my bed,
O make it saft and narrow!
Since my love died for me to-day,
I'll die for him to-morrow.'

THE GAY GOSHAWK

+The Text+ is from the Jamieson-Brown MS., on which version Scott drew partly for his ballad in the _Minstrelsy_. Mrs. Brown recited the ballad again to William Tytler in 1783, but the result is now lost, with most of the other Tytler-Brown versions.

+The Story.+--One point, the maid's feint of death to escape from her father to her lover, is the subject of a ballad very popular in France; a version entitled _Belle Isambourg_ is printed in a collection called _Airs de Cour_, 1607. Feigning death to escape various threats is a common feature in many European ballads.

It is perhaps needless to remark that no goshawk sings sweetly, much less talks. In Buchan's version (of forty-nine stanzas) the goshawk is exchanged for a parrot.

THE GAY GOSHAWK

1.
'O well's me o' my gay goss-hawk,
That he can speak and flee;
He'll carry a letter to my love,
Bring back another to me.'

2.
'O how can I your true-love ken,
Or how can I her know?
When frae her mouth I never heard couth,
Nor wi' my eyes her saw.'

3.
'O well sal ye my true-love ken,
As soon as you her see;
For, of a' the flow'rs in fair Englan',
The fairest flow'r is she.

4.
'At even at my love's bow'r-door
There grows a bowing birk,
An' sit ye down and sing thereon
As she gangs to the kirk.

5.
'An' four-and-twenty ladies fair
Will wash and go to kirk,
But well shall ye my true-love ken,
For she wears goud on her skirt.

6.
'An' four-and-twenty gay ladies
Will to the mass repair,
But well sal ye my true-love ken,
For she wears goud on her hair.'

7.
O even at that lady's bow'r-door
There grows a bowin' birk,
An' she sat down and sang thereon,
As she ged to the kirk.

8.
'O eet and drink, my marys a',
The wine flows you among,
Till I gang to my shot-window,
An' hear yon bonny bird's song.

9.
'Sing on, sing on, my bonny bird,
The song ye sang the streen,
For I ken by your sweet singin',
You 're frae my true-love sen'.'

10.
O first he sang a merry song,
An' then he sang a grave,
An' then he peck'd his feathers gray,
To her the letter gave.

11.
'Ha, there's a letter frae your love,
He says he sent you three;
He canna wait your love langer,
But for your sake he'll die.

12.
'He bids you write a letter to him;
He says he's sent you five;
He canno wait your love langer,
Tho' you're the fairest woman alive.'

13.
'Ye bid him bake his bridal bread,
And brew his bridal ale,
An' I'll meet him in fair Scotlan'
Lang, lang or it be stale.'

14.
She's doen her to her father dear,
Fa'n low down on her knee:
'A boon, a boon, my father dear,
I pray you, grant it me.'

15.
'Ask on, ask on, my daughter,
An' granted it sal be;
Except ae squire in fair Scotlan',
An' him you sall never see.'

16.
'The only boon my father dear,
That I do crave of the,
Is, gin I die in southin lans,
In Scotland to bury me.

17.
'An' the firstin kirk that ye come till,
Ye gar the bells be rung,
An' the nextin kirk that ye come till,
Ye gar the mess be sung.

18.
'An' the thirdin kirk that ye come till,
You deal gold for my sake,
An' the fourthin kirk that ye come till,
You tarry there till night.'

19.
She is doen her to her bigly bow'r,
As fast as she coud fare,
An' she has tane a sleepy draught,
That she had mix'd wi' care.

20.
She's laid her down upon her bed,
An' soon she's fa'n asleep,
And soon o'er every tender limb
Cauld death began to creep.

21.
Whan night was flown, an' day was come,
Nae ane that did her see
But thought she was as surely dead
As ony lady coud be.

22.
Her father an' her brothers dear
Gard make to her a bier;
The tae half was o' guid red gold,
The tither o' silver clear.

23.
Her mither an' her sisters fair
Gard work for her a sark;
The tae half was o' cambrick fine,
The tither o' needle wark.

24.
The firstin kirk that they came till,
They gard the bells be rung,
An' the nextin kirk that they came till,
They gard the mess be sung.

25.
The thirdin kirk that they came till,
They dealt gold for her sake,
An' the fourthin kirk that they came till,
Lo, there they met her make!

26.
'Lay down, lay down the bigly bier,
Lat me the dead look on';
Wi' cherry cheeks and ruby lips
She lay an' smil'd on him.

27.
'O ae sheave o' your bread, true-love,
An' ae glass o' your wine,
For I hae fasted for your sake
These fully days is nine.

28.
'Gang hame, gang hame, my seven bold brothers,
Gang hame and sound your horn;
An' ye may boast in southin lan's
Your sister's play'd you scorn.'

[Annotations:
2.3: 'couth,' word.--+Jamieson+. The derivation, from Anglo-Saxon
_cwide_, is hard.
7.3: 'she' is the goshawk; called 'he' in 1.2.
8.3: 'shot-window,' here perhaps a bow-window.
9.2: 'streen' = yestreen, last evening.
19.1: 'bigly,' _lit._ habitable; the stock epithet of 'bower.'
25.4: 'make,' mate, lover.
27.1: 'sheave,' slice.]

BROWN ROBIN

+The Text+ is here given from the Jamieson-Brown MS. Versions, lengthened and therefore less succinct and natural, are given in Christie's _Traditional Ballad Airs_ (_Love Robbie_) and in Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_ (_Brown Robyn and Mally_).

+The Story+ is a genuine bit of romance. The proud porter is apparently suspicious, believing that the king's daughter would not have made him drunk for any good purpose. In spite of that he cannot see through Brown Robin's disguise, though the king remarks that 'this is a sturdy dame.' The king's daughter, one would think, who conceals Robin's bow in her bosom, must also have been somewhat sturdy. Note the picturesque touch in 8.2.

BROWN ROBIN

1.
The king but an' his nobles a' } _bis_
Sat birling at the wine; }
He would ha' nane but his ae daughter
To wait on them at dine.

2.
She's served them butt, she's served them ben,
Intill a gown of green,
But her e'e was ay on Brown Robin,
That stood low under the rain.

3.
She's doen her to her bigly bow'r,
As fast as she coud gang,
An' there she's drawn her shot-window,
An' she's harped an' she sang.

4.
'There sits a bird i' my father's garden,
An' O but she sings sweet!
I hope to live an' see the day
When wi' my love I'll meet.'

5.
'O gin that ye like me as well
As your tongue tells to me,
What hour o' the night, my lady bright,
At your bow'r sal I be?'

6.
'Whan my father an' gay Gilbert
Are baith set at the wine,
O ready, ready I will be
To lat my true-love in.'

7.
O she has birl'd her father's porter
Wi' strong beer an' wi' wine,
Untill he was as beastly drunk
As ony wild-wood swine:
She's stown the keys o' her father's yates
An latten her true-love in.

8.
When night was gane, an' day was come,
An' the sun shone on their feet,
Then out it spake him Brown Robin,
'I'll be discover'd yet.'

9.
Then out it spake that gay lady:
'My love ye need na doubt,
For wi' ae wile I've got you in,
Wi' anither I'll bring you out.'

10.
She's ta'en her to her father's cellar,
As fast as she can fare;
She's drawn a cup o' the gude red wine,
Hung 't low down by her gare;
An' she met wi' her father dear
Just coming down the stair.

11.
'I woud na gi' that cup, daughter,
That ye hold i' your han',
For a' the wines in my cellar,
An' gantrees whare the[y] stan'.'

12.
'O wae be to your wine, father,
That ever 't came o'er the sea;
'Tis pitten my head in sic a steer
I' my bow'r I canna be.'

13.
'Gang out, gang out, my daughter dear,
Gang out an' tack the air;
Gang out an' walk i' the good green wood,
An' a' your marys fair.'

14.
Then out it spake the proud porter--
Our lady wish'd him shame--
'We'll send the marys to the wood,
But we'll keep our lady at hame.'

15.
'There's thirty marys i' my bow'r,
There's thirty o' them an' three;
But there 's nae ane amo' them a'
Kens what flow'r gains for me.'

16.
She's doen her to her bigly bow'r
As fast as she could gang,
An' she has dresst him Brown Robin
Like ony bow'r-woman.

17.
The gown she pat upon her love
Was o' the dainty green,
His hose was o' the saft, saft silk,
His shoon o' the cordwain fine.

18.
She's pitten his bow in her bosom,
His arrow in her sleeve,
His sturdy bran' her body next,
Because he was her love.

19.
Then she is unto her bow'r-door
As fast as she coud gang;
But out it spake the proud porter--
Our lady wish'd him shame--
'We'll count our marys to the wood,
And we'll count them back again.'

20.
The firsten mary she sent out
Was Brown Robin by name;
Then out it spake the king himsel',
'This is a sturdy dame.'

21.
O she went out in a May morning,
In a May morning so gay,
But she never came back again,
Her auld father to see.

[Annotations:
1.2: 'birling,' drinking: cf. 7.1.
3.1: 'bigly,' commodious: see _The Gay Goshawk_, 19.1.
3.3: 'shot-window,' here perhaps a shutter with a pane of glass let
in.
7.1: 'birl'd,' plied: cf. 1.2.
7.4: Cf. _Fause Footrage_ 16.4: a popular simile.
7.5: 'stown,' stolen: 'yates,' gates.
10.4: 'gare,' gore; _i.e._ by her knee: a stock ballad phrase.
11.4: 'gantrees,' stands for casks.
12.3: 'sic,' such: the MS. gives _sick_: 'steer,' disturbance.
13.4: 'marys,' maids.
15.4: 'gains for,' suits, is meet (Icelandic, _gegna_). Cf. Jamieson's
version of _Sir Patrick Spence_:--
'For I brought as much white money
As will gain my men and me.'
17.4: 'cordwain,' Cordovan (Spanish) leather.
21.2: 'gay': the MS. gives _gray_. This is Child's emendation, who
points out that the sun was up, 8.2.]

LADY ALICE

+The Text+ of this little ballad is given from Bell's _Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry of England_.

It should be compared with _Lord Lovel_.

LADY ALICE

1.
Lady Alice was sitting in her bower-window,
At midnight mending her quoif,
And there she saw as fine a corpse
As ever she saw in her life.

2.
'What bear ye, what bear ye, ye six men tall?
What bear ye on your shoulders?'
'We bear the corpse of Giles Collins,
An old and true lover of yours.'

3.
'O lay him down gently, ye six men tall,
All on the grass so green,
And to-morrow, when the sun goes down,
Lady Alice a corpse shall be seen.

4.
'And bury me in Saint Mary's church,
All for my love so true,
And make me a garland of marjoram,
And of lemon-thyme, and rue.'

5.
Giles Collins was buried all in the east,
Lady Alice all in the west,
And the roses that grew on Giles Collins's grave,
They reached Lady Alice's breast.

6.
The priest of the parish he chanced to pass,
And he severed those roses in twain;
Sure never were seen such true lovers before,
Nor e'er will there be again.

[Annotations:
1.2: 'quoif,' cap. The line should doubtless be:--
'Mending her midnight quoif.']

CHILD MAURICE

+The Text+ is from the Percy Folio, given _literatim_, with two rearrangements of the lines (in stt. 4 and 22) and a few obvious corrections, as suggested by Hales, and Furnivall, and Child. The Folio version was printed by Jamieson in his _Popular Ballads and Songs_.

The Scotch version, _Gil Morrice_, was printed by Percy in the _Reliques_ in preference to the version of his Folio. He notes that the ballad 'has lately run through two editions in Scotland: the second was printed at Glasgow in 1755.' Thanks to an advertisement prefixed to these Scottish editions, sixteen additional verses were obtained and added by Percy, who thought that they were 'perhaps after all only an ingenious interpolation.' _Gil Morrice_ introduces 'Lord Barnard' in place of 'John Steward,' adopted, perhaps, from _Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard_. Motherwell's versions were variously called _Child Noryce_, _Bob Norice_, _Gill Morice_, _Chield Morice_. Certainly the Folio ballad is unsurpassed for its vigorous, objective style, and forcible, vivid pictures.

+The Story+ of this ballad gave rise to Home's _Douglas_, a tragedy, produced in the Concert Hall, Canongate, Edinburgh, 1756 (on which occasion the heroine's name was given as 'Lady Barnard'), and transferred to Covent Garden Theatre, in London, in 1757, the heroine's name being altered to 'Lady Randolph.'

Perhaps in the same year in which the play was produced in London, the poet Gray wrote from Cambridge:-- 'I have got the old Scotch ballad on which _Douglas_ was founded; it is divine, and as long as from hence to Aston. Aristotle's best rules are observed in it in a manner which shows the author never had heard of Aristotle. It begins in the fifth act of the play. You may read it two-thirds through without guessing what it is about; and yet, when you come to the end, it is impossible not to understand the whole story.'

CHILD MAURICE

1.
Child Maurice hunted ithe siluer wood,
He hunted itt round about,
And noebodye that he ffound therin,
Nor none there was with-out.

2.
... ... ...
... ... ...
And he tooke his siluer combe in his hand,
To kembe his yellow lockes.

3.
He sayes, 'Come hither, thou litle ffoot-page,
That runneth lowlye by my knee,
Ffor thou shalt goe to Iohn Stewards wiffe
And pray her speake with mee.

4.
... ... ...
... ... ...
I, and greete thou doe that ladye well,
Euer soe well ffroe mee.

5.
'And, as itt ffalls, as many times
As knotts beene knitt on a kell,
Or marchant men gone to leeue London
Either to buy ware or sell;

6.
'And, as itt ffalles, as many times
As any hart can thinke,
Or schoole-masters are in any schoole-house
Writting with pen and inke:
Ffor if I might, as well as shee may,
This night I wold with her speake.

7.
'And heere I send her a mantle of greene,
As greene as any grasse,
And bid her come to the siluer wood,
To hunt with Child Maurice.

8.
'And there I send her a ring of gold,
A ring of precyous stone,
And bidd her come to the siluer wood,
Let ffor no kind of man.'

9.
One while this litle boy he yode,
Another while he ran,
Vntill he came to Iohn Stewards hall,
I-wis he never blan.

10.
And of nurture the child had good,
Hee ran vp hall and bower ffree,
And when he came to this lady ffaire,
Sayes, 'God you saue and see!

11.
'I am come ffrom Child Maurice,
A message vnto thee;
And Child Maurice, he greetes you well,
And euer soe well ffrom mee;

12.
'And, as itt ffalls, as oftentimes
As knotts beene knitt on a kell,
Or marchant-men gone to leeue London
Either ffor to buy ware or sell;

13.
'And as oftentimes he greetes you well
As any hart can thinke,
Or schoolemasters are in any schoole,
Wryting with pen and inke.

14.
'And heere he sends a mantle of greene,
As greene as any grasse,
And he bidds you come to the siluer wood,
To hunt with Child Maurice.

15.
'And heere he sends you a ring of gold,
A ring of the precyous stone;
He prayes you to come to the siluer wood,
Let ffor no kind of man.'

16.
'Now peace, now peace, thou litle ffoot-page,
Ffor Christes sake, I pray thee!
Ffor if my lord heare one of these words,
Thou must be hanged hye!'

17.
Iohn Steward stood vnder the castle-wall,
And he wrote the words euerye one,
... ... ...
... ... ...

18.
And he called vnto his hors-keeper,
'Make readye you my steede!'
I, and soe he did to his chamberlaine,
'Make readye thou my weede!'

19.
And he cast a lease vpon his backe,
And he rode to the siluer wood,
And there he sought all about,
About the siluer wood.

20.
And there he ffound him Child Maurice
Sitting vpon a blocke,
With a siluer combe in his hand,
Kembing his yellow locke.

... ... ...

21.
But then stood vp him Child Maurice,
And sayd these words trulye:
'I doe not know your ladye,' he said,
'If that I doe her see.'

22.
He sayes, 'How now, how now, Child Maurice?
Alacke, how may this bee?
Ffor thou hast sent her loue-tokens,
More now then two or three;

23.
'Ffor thou hast sent her a mantle of greene,
As greene as any grasse,
And bade her come to the siluer woode
To hunt with Child Maurice.

24.
'And thou [hast] sent her a ring of gold,
A ring of precyous stone,
And bade her come to the siluer wood,
Let ffor noe kind of man.

25.
'And by my ffaith, now, Child Maurice,
The tone of vs shall dye!'
'Now be my troth,' sayd Child Maurice,
'And that shall not be I.'

26.
But hee pulled forth a bright browne sword,
And dryed itt on the grasse,
And soe ffast he smote att Iohn Steward,
I-wisse he neuer rest.

27.
Then hee pulled fforth his bright browne sword,
And dryed itt on his sleeue,
And the ffirst good stroke Iohn Stewart stroke,
Child Maurice head he did cleeue.

28.
And he pricked itt on his swords poynt,
Went singing there beside,
And he rode till he came to that ladye ffaire,
Wheras this ladye lyed.

29.
And sayes, 'Dost thou know Child Maurice head,
If that thou dost itt see?
And lap itt soft, and kisse itt oft,
For thou louedst him better than mee.'

30.
But when shee looked on Child Maurice head,
She neuer spake words but three:
'I neuer beare no child but one,
And you haue slaine him trulye.'

31.
Sayes, 'Wicked be my merrymen all,
I gaue meate, drinke, and clothe!
But cold they not haue holden me
When I was in all that wrath!

32.
'Ffor I haue slaine one of the curteousest knights
That euer bestrode a steed,
Soe haue I done one [of] the fairest ladyes
That euer ware womans weede!'

[Annotations:
1.1: 'siluer': the Folio gives _siluen_.
4.3,4: These lines in the Folio precede st. 6.
5.2: _i.e._ as many times as there are knots knit in a net for the
hair; cf. French _cale_.
5.3: 'leeue,' lovely.
8.4: 'Let,' fail: it is the infinitive, governed by 'bidd.'
9.1: 'yode,' went.
9.4: 'blan,' lingered.
13.3: 'are': omitted in the Folio.
18.3: 'I,' aye.
19.1: 'lease,' leash, thong, string: perhaps for bringing back any
game he might kill.
After 20 at least one verse is lost.
22.1,2: In the Folio these lines precede 21.1,2.
24.1: 'hast' omitted in the Folio.
25.2: 'tone,' the one (or other).]

FAUSE FOOTRAGE

+The Text+ is from Alexander Fraser Tytler's Brown MS., which was also the source of Scott's version in the _Minstrelsy_. One line (31.1), closely resembling a line in Lady Wardlaw's forged ballad _Hardyknute_, caused Sir Walter to investigate strictly the authenticity of the ballad, but the evidence of Lady Douglas, that she had learned the ballad in her childhood, and could still repeat much of it, removed his doubts. It is, however, quite possible, as Professor Child points out, 'that Mrs. Brown may unconsciously have adopted this verse from the tiresome and affected _Hardyknute_, so much esteemed in her day.'

+The Story.+--In _The Complaynt of Scotlande_ (1549) there is mentioned a tale 'how the King of Estmure Land married the King's daughter of Westmure Land,' and it has been suggested that there is a connection with the ballad.

This is another of the ballads of which the English form has become so far corrupted that we have to seek its Scandinavian counterpart to obtain the full form of the story. The ballad is especially popular in Denmark, where it is found in twenty-three manuscripts, as follows:--

The rich Svend wooes Lisbet, who favours William for his good qualities. Svend, ill with grief, is well-advised by his mother, not to care for a plighted maid, and ill-advised by his sister, to kill William. Svend takes the latter advice, and kills William. Forty weeks later, Lisbet gives birth to a son, but Svend is told that the child is a girl. Eighteen years later, the young William, sporting with a peasant, quarrels with him; the peasant retorts, 'You had better avenge your father's death.' Young William asks his mother who slew his father, and she, thinking him too young to fight, counsels him to bring Svend to a court. William charges him in the court with the murder of his father, and says that no compensation has been offered. Not a penny shall be paid, says Svend. William draws his sword, and slays him.

Icelandic, Swedish, and Faeroee ballads tell a similar story.

FAUSE FOOTRAGE

1.
King Easter has courted her for her gowd,
King Wester for her fee;
King Honor for her lands sae braid,
And for her fair body.

2.
They had not been four months married,
As I have heard them tell,
Until the nobles of the land
Against them did rebel.

3.
And they cast kaivles them amang,
And kaivles them between;
And they cast kaivles them amang,
Wha shoud gae kill the king.

4.
O some said yea, and some said nay,
Their words did not agree;
Till up it gat him Fa'se Footrage,
And sware it shoud be he.

5.
When bells were rung, and mass was sung,
And a' man boon to bed,
King Honor and his gay ladie
In a hie chamer were laid.

6.
Then up it raise him Fa'se Footrage,
While a' were fast asleep,
And slew the porter in his lodge,
That watch and ward did keep.

7.
O four and twenty silver keys
Hang hie upon a pin,
And ay as a door he did unlock,
He has fasten'd it him behind.

8.
Then up it raise him King Honor,
Says, 'What means a' this din?
Now what's the matter, Fa'se Footrage,
Or wha was't loot you in?'

9.
'O ye my errand well shall learn
Before that I depart';
Then drew a knife baith lang and sharp
And pierced him thro' the heart.

10.
Then up it got the Queen hersell,
And fell low down on her knee:
'O spare my life now, Fa'se Footrage!
For I never injured thee.

11.
'O spare my life now, Fa'se Footrage!
Until I lighter be!
And see gin it be lad or lass,
King Honor has left me wi'.'

12.
'O gin it be a lass,' he says,
'Weel nursed she shall be;
But gin it be a lad-bairn,
He shall be hanged hie.

13.
'I winna spare his tender age,
Nor yet his hie, hie kin;
But as soon as e'er he born is,
He shall mount the gallows-pin.'

14.
O four and twenty valiant knights
Were set the Queen to guard,
And four stood ay at her bower-door,
To keep baith watch and ward.

15.
But when the time drew till an end
That she should lighter be,
She cast about to find a wile
To set her body free.

16.
O she has birled these merry young men
Wi' strong beer and wi' wine,
Until she made them a' as drunk
As any wall-wood swine.

17.
'O narrow, narrow is this window,
And big, big am I grown!'
Yet thro' the might of Our Ladie,
Out at it she has won.

18.
She wander'd up, she wander'd down,
She wander'd out and in;
And at last, into the very swines' stye,
The Queen brought forth a son.

19.
Then they cast kaivles them amang
Wha should gae seek the Queen;
And the kaivle fell upon Wise William,
And he's sent his wife for him.

20.
O when she saw Wise William's wife,
The Queen fell on her knee;
'Win up, win up, madame,' she says,
'What means this courtesie?'

21.
'O out of this I winna rise,
Till a boon ye grant to me,
To change your lass for this lad-bairn,
King Honor left me wi'.

22.
'And ye maun learn my gay gos-hawke
Well how to breast a steed;
And I shall learn your turtle-dow
As well to write and read.

23.
'And ye maun learn my gay gos-hawke
To wield baith bow and brand;
And I sall learn your turtle-dow
To lay gowd wi' her hand.

24.
'At kirk and market where we meet,
We dare nae mair avow
But--"Dame, how does my gay gose-hawk?"
"Madame, how does my dow?"'

25.
When days were gane, and years come on,
Wise William he thought long;
Out has he ta'en King Honor's son,
A hunting for to gang.

26.
It sae fell out at their hunting,
Upon a summer's day,
That they cam' by a fair castle,
Stood on a sunny brae.

27.
'O dinna ye see that bonny castle
Wi' wa's and towers sae fair?
Gin ilka man had back his ain,
Of it you shoud be heir.'

28.
'How I shoud be heir of that castle,
In sooth I canna see;
When it belongs to Fa'se Footrage,
And he's nae kin to me.'

29.
'O gin ye shoud kill him Fa'se Footrage,
You woud do what is right;
For I wot he kill'd your father dear,
Ere ever you saw the light.

30.
'Gin you shoud kill him Fa'se Footrage,
There is nae man durst you blame;
For he keeps your mother a prisoner,
And she dares no take you hame.'

31.
The boy stared wild like a gray gose-hawk,
Says, 'What may a' this mean?'
'My boy, you are King Honor's son,
And your mother's our lawful queen.'

32.
'O gin I be King Honor's son,
By Our Ladie I swear,
This day I will that traytour slay,
And relieve my mother dear!'

33.
He has set his bent bow till his breast,
And lap the castle-wa';
And soon he's siesed on Fa'se Footrage,
Wha loud for help gan ca'.

34.
'O haud your tongue now, Fa'se Footrage,
Frae me ye shanno flee.'
Syne pierced him through the foul fa'se heart,
And set his mother free.

35.
And he has rewarded Wise William
Wi' the best half of his land;
And sae has he the turtle dow
Wi' the truth o' his right hand.

[Annotations:
3.1: 'kaivles,' lots.
13.4: 'gallows-pin,' the projecting beam of the gallows.
16.1: 'birled,' plied.
16.4: 'wallwood,' wild wood: a conventional ballad-phrase.
25.2: A stock ballad-phrase.
33.1: A ballad conventionality.]

FAIR ANNIE OF ROUGH ROYAL

'Ouvre ta port', Germin', c'est moi qu'est ton mari.' 'Donnez-moi des indic's de la premiere nuit, Et par la je croirai que vous et's mon mari.'

--_Germaine._

+The Text+ is Fraser Tytler's, taken down from the recitation of Mrs. Brown in 1800, who had previously (1783) recited a similar version to Jamieson. The later recitation, which was used by Scott, with others, seems to contain certain improvisations of Mrs. Brown's which do not appear in the earlier form.

+The Story.+--A mother, who feigns to be her own son and demands tokens of the girl outside the gate, turns her son's love away, and is cursed by him. Similar ballads exist in France, Germany, and Greece.

There is an early eighteenth-century MS. (Elizabeth Cochrane's _Song-Book_) of this ballad, which gives a preliminary history. Isabel of Rochroyal dreams of her love Gregory; she rises up, calls for a swift steed, and rides forth till she meets a company. They ask her who she is, and are told that she is 'Fair Isabel of Rochroyal,' seeking her true-love Gregory. They direct her to 'yon castle'; and thenceforth the tale proceeds much as in the other versions.

'Lochryan,' says Scott, 'lies in Galloway; Roch--or Rough--royal, I have not found, but there is a Rough castle in Stirlingshire' (Child).

FAIR ANNIE OF ROUGH ROYAL

1.
'O wha will shoe my fu' fair foot?
And wha will glove my hand?
And wha will lace my middle jimp,
Wi' the new-made London band?

2.
'And wha will kaim my yellow hair,
Wi' the new-made silver kaim?
And wha will father my young son,
Till Love Gregor come hame?'

3.
'Your father will shoe your fu' fair foot,
Your mother will glove your hand;
Your sister will lace your middle jimp
Wi' the new-made London band.

4.
'Your brother will kaim your yellow hair,
Wi' the new-made silver kaim;
And the king of heaven will father your bairn,
Till Love Gregor come haim.'

5.
'But I will get a bonny boat,
And I will sail the sea,
For I maun gang to Love Gregor,
Since he canno come hame to me.'

6.
O she has gotten a bonny boat,
And sail'd the sa't sea fame;
She lang'd to see her ain true-love,
Since he could no come hame.

7.
'O row your boat, my mariners,
And bring me to the land,
For yonder I see my love's castle,
Closs by the sa't sea strand.'

8.
She has ta'en her young son in her arms,
And to the door she's gone,
And lang she's knock'd and sair she ca'd,
But answer got she none.

9.
'O open the door, Love Gregor,' she says,
'O open, and let me in;
For the wind blaws thro' my yellow hair,
And the rain draps o'er my chin.'

10.
'Awa', awa', ye ill woman,
You 'r nae come here for good;
You 'r but some witch, or wile warlock,
Or mer-maid of the flood.'

11.
'I am neither a witch nor a wile warlock,
Nor mer-maid of the sea,
I am Fair Annie of Rough Royal;
O open the door to me.'

12.
'Gin ye be Annie of Rough Royal--
And I trust ye are not she--
Now tell me some of the love-tokens
That past between you and me.'

13.
'O dinna you mind now, Love Gregor,
When we sat at the wine,
How we changed the rings frae our fingers?
And I can show thee thine.

14.
'O yours was good, and good enneugh,
But ay the best was mine;
For yours was o' the good red goud,
But mine o' the dimonds fine.

15.
'But open the door now, Love Gregor,
O open the door I pray,
For your young son that is in my arms
Will be dead ere it be day.'

16.
'Awa', awa', ye ill woman,
For here ye shanno win in;
Gae drown ye in the raging sea,
Or hang on the gallows-pin.'

17.
When the cock had crawn, and day did dawn,
And the sun began to peep,
Then it raise him Love Gregor,
And sair, sair did he weep.

18.
'O I dream'd a dream, my mother dear,
The thoughts o' it gars me greet,
That Fair Annie of Rough Royal
Lay cauld dead at my feet.'

19.
'Gin it be for Annie of Rough Royal
That ye make a' this din,
She stood a' last night at this door,
But I trow she wan no in.'

20.
'O wae betide ye, ill woman,
An ill dead may ye die!
That ye woudno open the door to her,
Nor yet woud waken me.'

21.
O he has gone down to yon shore-side,
As fast as he could fare;
He saw Fair Annie in her boat
But the wind it toss'd her sair.

22.
And 'Hey, Annie!' and 'How, Annie!
O Annie, winna ye bide?'
But ay the mair that he cried 'Annie,'
The braider grew the tide.

23.
And 'Hey, Annie!' and 'How, Annie!
Dear Annie, speak to me!'
But ay the louder he cried 'Annie,'
The louder roar'd the sea.

24.
The wind blew loud, the sea grew rough,
And dash'd the boat on shore;
Fair Annie floats on the raging sea,
But her young son raise no more.

25.
Love Gregor tare his yellow hair,
And made a heavy moan;
Fair Annie's corpse lay at his feet,
But his bonny young son was gone.

26.
O cherry, cherry was her cheek,
And gowden was her hair,
But clay cold were her rosey lips,
Nae spark of life was there.

27.
And first he's kiss'd her cherry cheek,
And neist he's kissed her chin;
And saftly press'd her rosey lips,
But there was nae breath within.

28.
'O wae betide my cruel mother,
And an ill dead may she die!
For she turn'd my true-love frae the door,
When she came sae far to me.'

[Annotations:
10.3: 'warlock,' wizard, magician.
18.2: 'gars me greet,' makes me weep.]

HIND HORN

+The Text+ is from Motherwell's MS., written from the recitation of a Mrs. King of Kilbarchan.

+The Story+ of the ballad is a mere remnant of the story told in the Gest of King Horn, preserved in three manuscripts, the oldest of which belongs to the thirteenth century. Similar stories are given in a French romance of the fourteenth century, and an English manuscript of the same date. The complete story in the Gest may be condensed as follows:--

Horn, son of Murry, King of Suddenne, was captured by Saracens, who killed his father, and turned him and his twelve companions adrift in a boat, which was eventually beached safely on the coast of Westerness, and Ailmar the king took them in and brought them up. Rymenhild his daughter, falling in love with Horn, offered herself to him. He refused, unless she would make the king knight him. She did so, and again claimed his love; but he said he must first prove his knighthood. She gave him a ring set with stones, such that he could never be slain if he looked on it and thought of her. His first feat was the slaying of a hundred heathens; then he returned to Rymenhild. Meanwhile, however, one of his companions had told the king that Horn meant to kill him and wed his daughter. Ailmar ordered Horn to quit his court; and Horn, having told Rymenhild that if he did not come back in seven years she might marry another, sailed to the court of King Thurston in Ireland, where he stayed for seven years, performing feats of valour with the aid of Rymenhild's ring.

At the end of the allotted time, Rymenhild was to be married to King Modi of Reynis. Horn, hearing of this, went back to Westerness, arrived on the marriage-morn, met a palmer (the old beggar man of the ballad), changed clothes with him, and entered the hall. According to custom, Rymenhild served wine to the guests, and as Horn drank, he dropped her ring into the vessel. When she discovered it, she sent for the palmer, and questioned him. He said Horn had died on the voyage thither. Rymenhild seized a knife she had hidden to kill King Modi and herself if Horn came not, and set it to her breast. The palmer threw off his disguise, saying, 'I am Horn.' Still he would not wed her till he had regained his father's kingdom of Suddenne, and went away and did so. Meanwhile a false friend seized Rymenhild; but on the marriage-day Horn returned, killed him, and finally made Rymenhild his wife and Queen of Suddenne.

Compare the story of Torello and the Saladin in the _Decameron_, Tenth Day, Novel 9.

HIND HORN

1.
In Scotland there was a babie born,
_Lill lal, etc._
And his name it was called young Hind Horn,
_With a fal lal, etc._

2.
He sent a letter to our king
That he was in love with his daughter Jean.[A]

... ... ...

3.
He's gi'en to her a silver wand,
With seven living lavrocks sitting thereon.

4.
She's gi'en to him a diamond ring,
With seven bright diamonds set therein.

5.
'When this ring grows pale and wan,
You may know by it my love is gane.'

6.
One day as he looked his ring upon,
He saw the diamonds pale and wan.

7.
He left the sea and came to land,
And the first that he met was an old beggar man.

8.
'What news, what news?' said young Hind Horn;
'No news, no news,' said the old beggar man.

9.
'No news,' said the beggar, 'no news at a',
But there is a wedding in the king's ha'.

10.
'But there is a wedding in the king's ha',
That has halden these forty days and twa.'

11.
'Will ye lend me your begging coat?
And I'll lend you my scarlet cloak.

12.
'Will you lend me your beggar's rung?
And I'll gi'e you my steed to ride upon.

13.
'Will you lend me your wig o' hair,
To cover mine, because it is fair?'

14.
The auld beggar man was bound for the mill,
But young Hind Horn for the king's hall.

15.
The auld beggar man was bound for to ride,
But young Hind Horn was bound for the bride.

16.
When he came to the king's gate,
He sought a drink for Hind Horn's sake.

17.
The bride came down with a glass of wine,
When he drank out the glass, and dropt in the ring.

18.
'O got ye this by sea or land?
Or got ye it off a dead man's hand?'

19.
'I got not it by sea, I got it by land,
And I got it, madam, out of your own hand.'

20.
'O I'll cast off my gowns of brown,
And beg wi' you frae town to town.

21.
'O I'll cast off my gowns of red,
And I'll beg wi' you to win my bread.'

22.
'Ye needna cast off your gowns of brown,
For I'll make you lady o' many a town.

23.
'Ye needna cast off your gowns of red,
It's only a sham, the begging o' my bread.'

24.
The bridegroom he had wedded the bride,
But young Hind Horn he took her to bed.

[Footnote A: After stanza 2 there is a gap in the story. Other
versions say that Hind Horn goes, or is sent, to sea.]

[Annotations:
10.2: The bride has lingered six weeks in hopes of Hind Horn's return.
12.1: 'rung,' staff.]

EDWARD

+The Text+ is that given by Percy in the _Reliques_ (1765), with the substitution of _w_ for initial _qu_, and _y_ for initial _z_, as in _Young Waters_ (see p. 146). In the fourth edition of the _Reliques_ Percy states that 'this curious song was transmitted to the editor by Sir David Dalrymple, Bart., late Lord Hailes.'

Percy's adoption of antique spelling in this ballad has caused some doubt to be thrown on its authenticity; but there is also a version _Son Davie_, given in his _Minstrelsy_ by Motherwell, who, in referring to the version in the _Reliques_, said there was reason for believing that Lord Hailes 'made a few slight verbal improvements in the copy he transmitted, and altered the hero's name to Edward, a name which, by the bye, never occurs in a Scottish ballad except where allusion is made to an English king.'

+The Story+ has a close parallel in Swedish, the form of the ballad remaining in dialogue.

Motherwell points out that the verses of which _Edward_ consists generally form the conclusion of the ballad of _The Twa Brothers_, and also of certain versions of _Lizie Wan_; and is inclined to regard _Edward_ as detached from one of those ballads. More probably the reverse is the case, that the story of _Edward_ has been attached to the other ballads.

The present version of the ballad exhibits an unusual amplification of the refrain. The story is told in two lines of each eight-lined stanza; but the lyrical effect added by the elaborate refrain is almost unique.

EDWARD

1.
'Why dois your brand sae drap wi' bluid,
Edward, Edward?
Why dois your brand sae drap wi' bluid,
And why sae sad gang yee, O?'
'O, I hae killed my hauke sae guid,
Mither, mither:
O, I hae killed my hauke sae guid,
And I had nae mair bot hee, O.'

2.
'Your haukis bluid was nevir sae reid,
Edward, Edward.
Your haukis bluid was nevir sae reid,
My deir son I tell thee, O.'
'O, I hae killed my reid-roan steid,
Mither, mither:
O, I hae killed my reid-roan steid,
That erst was sae fair and frie, O.'

3.
'Your steid was auld, and ye hae gat mair,
Edward, Edward:
Your steid was auld, and ye hae gat mair,
Sum other dule ye drie, O.'
'O, I hae killed my fadir deir,
Mither, mither:
O, I hae killed my fadir deir,
Alas! and wae is mee, O!'

4.
'And whatten penance wul ye drie for that,
Edward, Edward?
And whatten penance will ye drie for that.
My deir son, now tell me, O,
'Ile set my feit in yonder boat,
Mither, mither:
Ile set my feit in yonder boat,
And Ile fare ovir the sea, O.'

5.
'And what wul ye doe wi' your towirs and your ha',
Edward, Edward?
And what wul ye doe wi' your towirs and your ha',
That were sae fair to see, O?'
'Ile let thame stand tul they doun fa',
Mither, mither:
Ile let thame stand tul they doun fa',
For here nevir mair maun I bee, O.'

6.
'And what wul ye leive to your bairns and your wife,
Edward, Edward?
And what wul ye leive to your bairns and your wife,
Whan ye gang ovir the sea, O?'
'The warldis room, late them beg thrae life,
Mither, mither:
The warldis room, let them beg thrae life,
For thame nevir mair wul I see, O.'

7.
'And what wul ye leive to your ain mither deir,
Edward, Edward?
And what wul ye leive to your ain mither deir?
My deir son, now tell me, O.'
'The curse of hell frae me sall ye beir,
Mither, mither:
The curse of hell frae me sall ye beir,
Sic counseils ye gave to me, O.'

[Annotations:
3.4: 'dule,' grief; 'drie,' suffer.
6.5,7: _i.e._ The world is wide.]

LORD RANDAL

+The Text+ is from Scott's _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_ (1803). Other forms give the name as _Lord Ronald_, but Scott retains _Randal_ on the supposition that the ballad originated in the death of 'Thomas Randolph, or Randal, Earl of Murray, nephew to Robert Bruce, and governor of Scotland,' who died at Musselburgh in 1332.

+The Story+ of the ballad is found in Italian tradition nearly three hundred years ago, and also occurs in Dutch, German, Swedish, Danish, Magyar, Wendish, etc.

Certain variants of the ballad bear the title of _The Croodlin Doo_, and the 'handsome young man' is changed for a child, and the poisoner is the child's step-mother. Scott suggests that this change was made 'to excite greater interest in the nursery.' In nearly all forms of the ballad, the poisoning is done by the substitution of snakes ('eels') for fish, a common method amongst the ancients of administering poison.

Child gives a collation of seven versions secured in America of late years, in each of which the name of Lord Randal has become corrupted to 'Tiranti.'

The antiphonetic form of the ballad is popular, as being dramatic and suitable for singing. Compare _Edward_, also a dialogue between mother and son.

LORD RANDAL

1.
'O where hae ye been, Lord Randal, my son?
O where hae ye been, my handsome young man?'
'I hae been to the wild wood; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down.'

2.
'Where gat ye your dinner, Lord Randal, my son?
Where gat ye your dinner, my handsome young man?'
'I din'd wi' my true-love; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down.'

3.
'What gat ye to your dinner, Lord Randal, my son?
What gat ye to your dinner, my handsome young man?'
'I gat eels boil'd in broo'; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down.'

4.
'What became of your bloodhounds, Lord Randal, my son?
What became of your bloodhounds, my handsome young man?'
'O they swell'd and they died; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down.'

5.
'O I fear ye are poison'd, Lord Randal, my son!
O I fear ye are poison'd, my handsome young man!'
'O yes, I am poison'd; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wald lie down.'

[Annotations:
3.3: 'broo',' broth.]

LAMKIN

+The Text+ is from Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_. He obtained it from Mrs. Brown. It is by far the best version of a score or so in existence. The name of the hero varies from Lamkin, Lankin, Lonkin, etc., to Rankin and Balcanqual. I have been informed by Andrew McDowall, Esq., of an incomplete version in which Lamkin's name has become 'Bold Hang'em.'