Chapter VII: Appendix: LORD BEICHAN AND SUSIE PYE. See p. 1 (1)

_From Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 260.

Young Beichan was in London born,
He was a man of hie degree;
He past thro' monie kingdoms great,
Until he cam unto Grand Turkie.

He view'd the fashions of that land, 5
Their way of worship viewed he;
But unto onie of their stocks
He wadna sae much as bow a knee:

Which made him to be taken straight,
And brought afore their hie jurie; 10
The savage Moor did speak upricht,
And made him meikle ill to dree.

In ilka shoulder they've bor'd a hole,
And in ilka hole they've put a tree;
They've made him to draw carts and wains, 15
Till he was sick and like to dee.

But young Beichan was a Christian born,
And still a Christian was he;
Which made them put him in prison strang,
And cauld and hunger sair to dree; 20
And fed on nocht but bread and water,
Until the day that he mot dee.

In this prison there grew a tree,
And it was unco stout and strang;
Where he was chained by the middle, 25
Until his life was almaist gane.

The savage Moor had but ae dochter,
And her name it was Susie Pye;
And ilka day as she took the air,
The prison door she passed bye. 30

But it fell ance upon a day,
As she was walking, she heard him sing;
She listen'd to his tale of woe,
A happy day for young Beichan!

"My hounds they all go masterless, 35
My hawks they flee frae tree to tree,
My youngest brother will heir my lands,
My native land I'll never see."

"O were I but the prison-keeper,
As I'm a ladie o' hie degree, 40
I soon wad set this youth at large,
And send him to his ain countrie."

She went away into her chamber,
All nicht she never clos'd her ee;
And when the morning begoud to dawn, 45
At the prison door alane was she.

She gied the keeper a piece of gowd,
And monie pieces o' white monie,
To tak her thro' the bolts and bars;
The lord frae Scotland she lang'd to see;-- 50
She saw young Beichan at the stake,
Which made her weep maist bitterlie.

"O hae ye got onie lands," she says,
"Or castles in your ain countrie?
It's what wad ye gie to the ladie fair 55
Wha out o' prison wad set you free?"

"It's I hae houses, and I hae lands,
Wi' monie castles fair to see,
And I wad gie a' to that ladie gay,
Wha out o' prison wad set me free." 60

The keeper syne brak aff his chains,
And set Lord Beichan at libertie:--
She fill'd his pockets baith wi' gowd,
To tak him till his ain countrie.

She took him frae her father's prison, 65
And gied to him the best o' wine;
And a brave health she drank to him;
"I wish, Lord Beichan, ye were mine!

"It's seven lang years I'll mak a vow,
And seven lang years I'll keep it true; 70
If ye'll wed wi' na ither woman,
It's I will wed na man but you."

She's tane him to her father's port,
And gien to him a ship o' fame:--
"Farewell, farewell, my Scottish lord, 75
I fear I'll ne'er see you again."

Lord Beichan turn'd him round about,
And lowly, lowly, loutit he:--
"Ere seven lang years come to an end,
I'll tak you to mine ain countrie." 80

* * * *

Then when he cam to Glasgow town,
A happy, happy man was he;
The ladies a' around him thrang'd,
To see him come frae slaverie.

His mother she had died o' sorrow, 85
And a' his brothers were dead but he;
His lands they a' were lying waste,
In ruins were his castles free.

Na porter there stood at his yett
Na human creature he could see, 90
Except the screeching owls and bats,
Had he to bear him companie.

But gowd will gar the castles grow,
And he had gowd and jewels free;
And soon the pages around him thrang'd, 95
To serve him on their bended knee.

His hall was hung wi' silk and satin,
His table rung wi' mirth and glee;
He soon forgot the lady fair,
That lows'd him out o' slaverie. 100

Lord Beichan courted a lady gay,
To heir wi' him his lands sae free,
Ne'er thinking that a lady fair
Was on her way frae Grand Turkie.

For Susie Pye could get na rest, 105
Nor day nor nicht could happy be,
Still thinking on the Scottish Lord,
Till she was sick and like to dee.

But she has builded a bonnie ship,
Weel mann'd wi' seamen o' hie degree; 110
And secretly she stept on board,
And bid adieu to her ain countrie.

But whan she cam to the Scottish shore,
The bells were ringing sae merrilie;
It was Lord Beichan's wedding day, 115
Wi' a lady fair o' hie degree.

But sic a vessel was never seen;
The very masts were tapp'd wi' gold;
Her sails were made o' the satin fine,
Maist beautiful for to behold. 120

But whan the lady cam on shore,
Attended wi' her pages three,
Her shoon were of the beaten gowd,
And she a lady of great beautie.

Then to the skipper she did say, 125
"Can ye this answer gie to me--
Where are Lord Beichan's lands sae braid?
He surely lives in this countrie."

Then up bespak the skipper bold,--
For he could speak the Turkish tongue,-- 130
"Lord Beichan lives not far away;
This is the day of his wedding."

"If ye will guide me to Beichan's yetts,
I will ye well reward," said she,--
Then she and all her pages went, 135
A very gallant companie.

When she cam to Lord Beichan's yetts,
She tirl'd gently at the pin;
Sae ready was the proud porter
To let the wedding guests come in. 140

"Is this Lord Beichan's house," she says,
"Or is that noble lord within?"
"Yes, he is gane into the hall,
With his brave bride and monie ane."

"Ye'll bid him send me a piece of bread, 145
Bot and a cup of his best wine;
And bid him mind the lady's love
That ance did lowse him out o' pyne."

Then in and cam the porter bold,--
I wat he gae three shouts and three,-- 150
"The fairest lady stands at your yetts
That ever my twa een did see."

Then up bespak the bride's mither,--
I wat an angry woman was she,--
"You micht hae excepted our bonnie bride, 155
Tho' she'd been three times as fair as she."

"My dame, your daughter's fair enough,
And aye the fairer mot she be!
But the fairest time that e'er she was,
She'll na compare wi' this ladie. 160

"She has a gowd ring on ilka finger,
And on her mid-finger she has three;
She has as meikle gowd upon her head,
As wad buy an earldom o' land to thee.

"My lord, she begs some o' your bread, 165
Bot and a cup o' your best wine,
And bids you mind the lady's love
That ance did lowse ye out o' pyne."

Then up and started Lord Beichan,--
I wat he made the table flee,-- 170
"I wad gie a' my yearlie rent
'Twere Susie Pye come owre the sea."

Syne up bespak the bride's mother,--
She was never heard to speak sae free,--
"Ye'll no forsake my ae dochter, 175
Tho' Susie Pye has cross'd the sea?"

"Tak hame, tak hame, your dochter, madam,
For she is ne'er the waur o' me;
She cam to me on horseback riding,
And she sall gang hame in chariot free." 180

He's tane Susie Pye by the milk-white hand,
And led her thro' his halls sae hie:
"Ye're now Lord Beichan's lawful wife,
And thrice ye're welcome unto me."

Lord Beichan prepar'd for another wedding, 185
Wi' baith their hearts sae fu' o' glee;--
Says, "I'll range na mair in foreign lands,
Sin Susie Pye has cross'd the sea.

"Fy! gar a' our cooks mak ready;
And fy! gar a' our pipers play; 190
And fy! gar trumpets gae thro' the toun,
That Lord Beichan's wedded twice in a day!"

SWEET WILLIAM. See p. 29.

"Given from the chanting of an old woman. It has never been before printed." Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 307.

Other versions may be seen in that careless publication of the Percy Society, _Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads_, vol. xvii. p. 57, _Lord William_, and in Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 57, _Lord Lundy_.

Sweet William's gane over seas,
Some unco lair to learn,
And our gude Bailie's ae dochter
Is awa to learn the same.

In ae braid buik they learned baith, 5
In ae braid bed they lay;
But when her father cam to know,
He gart her come away.

"It's you must marry that Southland lord,
His lady for to be; 10
It's ye maun marry that Southland lord,
Or nocht ye'll get frae me."

"I must marry that Southland lord,
Father, an it be your will;
But I'd rather it were my burial day, 15
My grave for to fill."

She walked up, she walked down,
Had nane to mak her moan,
Nothing but the pretty bird
Sat on the causey stone. 20

"If thou could speak, wee bird," she says,
"As weel as thou can flee,
I would write a lang letter
To Will ayont the sea."

"What thou wants wi' Will," it says, 25
"Thou'll seal it wi' thy ring;
Tak a thread o' silk, and anither o' twine,
And about my neck it hing."

What she wanted wi' Willie
She sealed it wi' a ring; 30
Took a thread o' silk, anither of twine,
About its neck did hing.

This bird flew high, this bird flew low,
This bird flew owre the sea,
Until it entered the same chamber 35
Wherein was sweet Willie.

This bird flew high, this bird flew low,--
Poor bird, it was mista'en,--
It loot the letter fa' on Baldie's breast,
Instead of sweet William. 40

"Here's a letter, William," he says,
"I'm sure it's not to me;
And gin the morn gin twelve o'clock
Your love shall married be."

"Come saddle to me my horse," he said, 45
"The brown and a' that's speedie,
And I'll awa' to Old England,
To bring hame my ladie."

Awa he gade, awa he rade,
Awa wi' meikle speed; 50
He lichtit at every twa miles' end,
Lichtit and changed his steed.

When she entered the church style,
The tear was in her e'e;
But when she entered the church door, 55
A blythe sight did she see.

"O hold your hand, you minister,
Hold it a little wee,
Till I speak wi' the bonnie bride,
For she's a friend to me. 60

"Stand off, stand off, you braw bridegroom,
Stand off a little wee;
Stand off, stand off, you braw bridegroom,
For the bride shall join wi' me."

Up and spak the bride's father, 65
And an angry man was he,--
"If I had pistol, powther and lead,
And all at my command,
It's I would shoot thee stiff and dead,
In the place where thou dost stand." 70

Up and spoke then sweet William,
And a blithe blink from his e'e:
"If ye ne'er be shot till I shoot you,
Ye'se ne'er be shot for me.

"Come out, come out, my foremost man, 75
And lift my lady on;
Commend me all to my goodmother,
At night when you gang home."

YOUNG CHILD DYRING. See p. 29.

Translated from the _Kj[oe]mpeviser_, in _Illustrations of Northern Antiquities_, p. 335.

It was the young Child Dyring,
Wi' his mither rede did he:
"I will me out ride
Sir Magnus's bride to see."
_His leave the page takes to-day from his master._

"Will thou thee out ride, 5
Sir Magnus's bride to see?
Sae beg I thee by Almighty God
Thou speed thee home to me."
_His leave, &c._

Syne answer'd young Child Dyr[e'];
He rode the bride to meet; 10
The silk but and the black sendell
Hang down to his horse feet.
_His leave, &c._

All rode they there, the bride-folk,
On row sae fair to see,
Excepting Sir Svend Dyr[e'], 15
And far about rode he.
_His leave, &c._

It was the young Child Dyr[e'] rode
Alone along the strand;
The bridle was of the red gold
That glitter'd in his hand. 20
_His leave, &c._

'Twas then proud Lady Ellensborg,
And under weed smil'd she;
"And who is he, that noble child
That rides sae bold and free?"
_His leave, &c._

Syne up and spak the maiden fair 25
Was next unto the bride;
"It is the young Child Dyr[e']
That stately steed does ride."
_His leave, &c._

"And is't the young Child Dyr[e']
That rides sae bold and free? 30
God wot, he's dearer that rides that steed
Nor a' the lave to me!"
_His leave, &c._

All rode they there, the bridal train,
Each rode his steed to stall;
All but Child Dyr[e'], that look'd whare he 35
Should find his seat in the hall.
_His leave, &c._

"Sit whare ye list, my lordings;
For me, whate'er betide,
Here I shall sickerly sit the day,
To hald the sun frae the bride." 40
_His leave, &c._

Then up spak the bride's father,
And an angry man was he;
"Whaever sits by my dochter the day,
Ye better awa' wad be."
_His leave, &c._

"It's I have intill Paris been, 45
And well my drift can spell;
And ay, whatever I have to say,
I tell it best my sell."
_His leave, &c._

"Sooth thou hast intill Paris lear'd
A worthless drift to spell, 50
And ay, whatever thou hast to say,
A rogue's tale thou must tell."
_His leave, &c._

Ben stept he, young Child Dyr[e'],
Nor reck'd he wha might chide;
And he has ta'en a chair in hand, 55
And set him by the bride.
_His leave, &c._

'Twas lang i' the night; the bride-folk
Ilk ane look'd for his bed;
And young Child Dyr[e'] amang the lave
Speer'd whare he should be laid. 60
_His leave, &c._

"Without, afore the stair steps,
Or laigh on the cawsway stane,
And there may lye Sir Dyr[e'],
For ither bed we've nane."
_His leave, &c._

'Twas ate intill the evening; 65
The bride to bed maun ga;
And out went he, Child Dyring,
To rouse his menyie a'.
_His leave, &c._

"Now busk and d'on your harnass,
But and your brynies blae, 70
And boldly to the bride-bower
Full merrily we'll gae."
_His leave, &c._

Sae follow'd they to the bride-bower
That bride sae young and bright,
And forward stept Child Dyr[e'], 75
And quenched the marriage light.
_His leave, &c._

The cresset they've lit up again,
But and the taper clear,
And followed to the bride-bower
That bride without a peer. 80
_His leave, &c._

* * * * * *

And up Child Dyr[e'] snatch'd the bride,
All in his mantle blae,
And swung her all so lightly
Upon his ambler gray.
_His leave, &c._

They lock'd the bower, they lit the torch, 85
'Twas hurry-scurry a',
While merrily ay the lovers gay
Rode roundly to the shaw.
_His leave, &c._

In Rosen-wood they turn'd about
To pray their bridal prayer; 90
"Good night and joy, Sir Magnus!
For us ye'll see nae mair."
_His leave, &c._

Sae rode he to the green wood,
And o'er the meadow green,
Till he came to his mither's bower, 95
Ere folks to bed were gane.
_His leave, &c._

Out came proud Lady Metelild,
In menevair sae free;
She welcom'd him, Child Dyring,
And his young bride him wi'. 100
_His leave, &c._

Now joys attend Child Dyring,
Sae leal but and sae bold;
He's ta'en her to his ain castell,
His bride-ale there to hold.
_His leave the page takes to-day frae his master._

BARBARA LIVINGSTON. See p. 38.

Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 304, from recitation.

Four-and-twenty ladies fair
Were playing at the ba',
And out cam Barbara Livingston,
The flower amang them a'.

Out cam Barbara Livingston, 5
The flower amang them a';--
The lusty Laird of Linlyon[L7]
Has stoun her clean awa'.

"The hielands is no for me, kind sir,
The hielands is no for me; 10
But if you would my favour win,
Ye 'll tak me to Dundee."

"The hielands 'll be for thee, my dear,
The hielands will be for thee;
To the lusty Laird o' Linlyon 15
A-married ye shall be."

When they cam to Linlyon's yetts,
And lichtit on the green,
Every ane spak Earse to her,--
The tears cam trickling down. 20

When they went to bed at nicht,
To Linlyon she did say,
"Och and alace! a weary nicht,
Oh! but it's lang till day."

"Your father's steed 's in my stable, 25
He 's eating corn and hay,
And you 're lying in my twa arms;
What need you lang for day?"

"If I had paper, pen, and ink,
And candle for to see, 30
I would write a lang letter
To my love in Dundee."

They brocht her paper, pen, and ink,
And candle for to see,
And she did write a lang letter 35
To her love in Dundee.

When he cam to Linlyon's yetts,
And lichtit on the green;
But lang or he wan up the stair
His love was dead and gane. 40

Woe be to thee, Linlyon,
An ill death may thou die!
Thou might hae ta'en anither woman,
And let my lady be.

7. Mr. Jamieson has "Glenlyon," which is probably the right name. M.

LANG JOHNNY MOIR. See p. 50.

From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 248.

There lives a man in Rynie's land,
Anither in Auchindore;
The bravest lad amo' them a',
Was lang Johnny Moir.

Young Johnny was an airy blade, 5
Fu' sturdy, stout, and strang;
The sword that hang by Johnny's side,
Was just full ten feet lang.

Young Johnny was a clever youth,
Fu' sturdy, stout, and wight; 10
Just full three yards around the waist,
And fourteen feet in hight.

But if a' be true they tell me now,
And a' be true I hear,
Young Johnny's on to Lundan gane, 15
The king's banner to bear.

He hadna been in fair Lundan
But twalmonths twa or three,
Till the fairest lady in a' Lundan
Fell in love wi' young Johnny. 20

This news did sound thro' Lundan town,
Till it came to the king,
That the muckle Scot had fa'in in love
Wi' his daughter, Lady Jean.

When the king got word o' that, 25
A solemn oath sware he;
"This weighty Scott sall strait a rope,
And hanged he shall be."

When Johnny heard the sentence past,
A light laugh then gae he; 30
"While I hae strength to yield my blade,
Ye darena a' hang me."

The English dogs were cunning rogues;
About him they did creep,
And ga'e him draps o' lodomy 35
That laid him fast asleep.

Whan Johnny waken'd frae his sleep,
A sorry heart had he;
His jaws and hands in iron bands,
His feet in fetters three. 40

"O whar will I get a little wee boy
Will work for meat and fee,
That will rin on to my uncle,
At the foot of Benachie?"

"Here am I, a little wee boy, 45
Will work for meat and fee,
That will rin on to your uncle,
At the foot of Benachie."

"Whan ye come whar grass grows green,
Slack your shoes and rin; 50
And whan ye come whar water's strong,
Ye'll bend your bow and swim.

"And whan ye come to Benachie,
Ye'll neither chap nor ca';
Sae well's ye'll ken auld Johnny there, 55
Three feet abeen them a'.

"Ye'll gie to him this braid letter,
Seal'd wi' my faith and troth;
And ye'll bid him bring alang wi' him
The body, Jock o' Noth." 60

"Whan he came whar grass grew green,
He slack't his shoes and ran;
And whan he came whar water's strong,
He bent his bow and swam.

And whan he came to Benachie, 65
Did neither chap nor ca';
Sae well's he kent auld Johnny there,
Three feet abeen them a'.

"What news, what news, my little wee boy?
Ye never were here before;" 70
"Nae news, nae news, but a letter from
Your nephew, Johnny Moir.

"Ye'll take here this braid letter,
Seal'd wi' his faith and troth;
And ye're bidden bring alang wi' you 75
The body, Jock o' Noth."

Benachie lyes very low,
The tap o' Noth lyes high;
For a' the distance that's between,
He heard auld Johnny cry. 80

Whan on the plain these champions met,
Twa grizly ghosts to see,
There were three feet between her brows,
And shoulders were yards three.

These men they ran ower hills and dales, 85
And ower mountains high;
Till they came on to Lundan town,
At the dawn o' the third day.

And whan they came to Lundan town,
The yetts were lockit wi' bands; 90
And wha were there but a trumpeter,
Wi' trumpet in his hands.

"What is the matter, ye keepers all,
Or what's the matter within,
That the drums do beat, and bells do ring, 95
And make sic dolefu' din?"

"There's naething the matter," the keeper said,
"There's naething the matter to thee;
But a weighty Scot to strait the rope,
And the morn he maun die." 100

"O open the yetts, ye proud keepers,
Ye'll open without delay;"
The trembling keeper smiling said,
"O I hae not the key."

"Ye'll open the yetts, ye proud keepers, 105
Ye'll open without delay;
Or here is a body at my back
Frae Scotland hae brought the key."

"Ye'll open the yetts," says Jock o' Noth,
"Ye'll open them at my call;" 110
Then wi' his foot he has drove in
Three yards braid o' the wall.

As they gaed in by Drury-lane,
And down by the town's hall;
And there they saw young Johnny Moir, 115
Stand on their English wall.

"Ye're welcome here, my uncle dear,
Ye're welcome unto me;
Ye'll loose the knot, and slack the rope,
And set me frae the tree." 120

"Is it for murder, or for theft?
Or is it for robberie?
If it is for ony heinous crime,
There's nae remeid for thee."

"It's nae for murder, nor for theft, 125
Nor yet for robberie;
A' is for the loving a gay lady,
They're gaun to gar me die."

"O whar's thy sword," says Jock o' Noth,
"Ye brought frae Scotland wi' thee? 130
I never saw a Scotsman yet,
But coud wield a sword or tree."

"A pox upo' their lodomy
On me had sic a sway;
Four o' their men, the bravest four, 135
They bore my blade away."

"Bring back his blade," says Jock o' Noth,
"And freely to him it gie;
Or I hae sworn a black Scot's oath,
I'll gar five million die." 140

"Now whar's the lady?" says Jock o' Noth,
"Sae fain I would her see;"
"She's lock'd up in her ain chamber,
The king he keeps the key."

So they hae gane before the king, 145
With courage bauld and free;
Their armour bright cast sic a light,
That almost dim'd his e'e.

"O whar's the lady," says Jock o' Noth,
"Sae fain as I wou'd her see; 150
For we are come to her wedding,
Frae the foot o' Benachie."

"O take the lady," said the king,
"Ye welcome are for me;
I never thought to see sic men 155
Frae the foot o' Benachie."

"If I had ken'd," said Jock o' Noth,
"Ye'd wonder'd sae muckle at me,
I wou'd hae brought ane larger far
By sizes three times three." 160

"Likewise if I had thought I'd been
Sic a great fright to thee,
I'd brought Sir John o' Erskine park;
He's thretty feet and three."

"Wae to the little boy," said the King, 165
"Brought tidings unto thee;
Let all England say what they will,
High hanged shall he be."

"O if ye hang the little wee boy
Brought tidings unto me, 170
We shall attend his burial,
And rewarded ye shall be."

"O take the lady," said the king,
"And the boy shall be free:"
"A priest, a priest," then Johnny cried, 175
"To join my love and me."

"A clerk, a clerk," the king replied,
"To seal her tocher wi' thee."
Out it speaks auld Johnny then,
These words pronounced he: 180

"I wantnae lands and rents at hame,
I'll ask nae gowd frae thee;
I am possess'd o' riches great,
Hae fifty ploughs and three;
Likewise fa's heir to ane estate 185
At the foot o' Benachie.

"Hae ye ony masons in this place,
Or ony at your call,
That ye may now send some of them,
To build your broken wall?" 190

"Yes, there are masons in this place,
And plenty at my call;
But ye may gang frae whence ye came,
Never mind my broken wall."

They've ta'en the lady by the hand, 195
And set her prison free;
Wi' drums beating, and fifes playing,
They spent the night wi' glee.

Now auld Johnny Moir, and young Johnny Moir,
And Jock o' Noth, a' three, 200
The English lady, and little wee boy,
Went a' to Benachie.

LIZIE BAILLIE. See p. 73.

From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 173.

It fell about the Lammas time,
When flowers were fresh and green,
Lizie Baillie to Gartartan went,
To see her sister Jean.

She meant to go unto that place, 5
To stay a little while;
But mark what fortune her befell,
When she went to the isle.[L8]

It fell out upon a day,
Sheep-shearing at an end, 10
Lizie Baillie she walk'd out,
To see a distant friend.

But going down in a low glen,
She met wi' Duncan Gr[ae]me,
Who courted her along the way, 15
Likewise convoyed her hame.

"My bonny Lizie Baillie,
I'll row you in my plaidie,
If ye'll gang ower the hills wi' me,
And be a Highland ladie." 20

"I winna gang alang wi' you;
Indeed I maun confess,
I can neither milk cow nor ewe,
Nor yet can I speak Earse."

"O never fear, Lizie," he said, 25
"If ye will gang wi' me,
All that is into my place,
Can speak as gude Scotch as thee.

"But for a time we now maun part;
I hinna time to tarry; 30
Next when we twa meet again,
Will be in Castlecarry."

When Lizie tarried out her time,
Unto her father's came,
The very first night she arrived, 35
Wha comes but Duncan Gr[ae]me.

Says, "Bonny Lizie Baillie,
A gude deed mat ye die;
Altho' to me ye brake your tryst,
Now I am come for thee." 40

"O stay at hame," her father said,
"Your mither cannot want thee;
And gin ye gang awa' this night,
We'll hae a Killycrankie."

"My bonny Lizie Baillie, 45
O come to me without delay;
O wou'd ye hae sae little wit,
As mind what odd folks wad say?"

She wou'dna hae the Lowlandman,
That wears the coat sae blue; 50
But she wou'd hae the Highlandman,
That wears the plaid and trews.

Out it spake her mother then,
A sorry heart had she;
Says, "Wae be to his Highland face, 55
That's taen my lass frae me!"

8. The island of Inchmahome, in the Lake of Menteith.

THE RARE BALLAD OF JOHNNIE FAA AND THE COUNTESS O'CASSILIS. See p. 114.

From Sheldon's _Minstrelsy of the English Border_, p. 329. The editor (or author, as he styles himself, indifferently) of that audacious work, asserts that he has "heard this ballad sung repeatedly by Willie Faa," and has "endeavored to preserve as much of his version as recollection would allow."

There were seven Gipsies in a gang,
They were both brisk and bonny O,
They rode till they came to the Earl of Castle's house,
And there they sung so sweetly O.

The Earl of Castle's lady came down, 5
With her waiting maid beside her O;
As soon as her handsome face they saw,
They cast the glamour o'er her O.

They gave to her a nutmeg brown,
Which was of the belinger O; 10
She gave to them a far better thing,
The ring from off her finger O.

The Earl he flang his purse to them,
For wow! but they sung bonny O;
Gied them red wine and manchet cake, 15
And all for the Gipsy laddie O.

The Earl wad gae hunt in Maybole woods,
For blythsome was the morning O,
To hunt the deer wi' the yelping curs,
Wi' the huntsman bugle sounding O. 20

The Countess went doun to the ha',
To hae a crack at them fairly O;
"And och," she cried, "I wad follow thee,
To the end o' the world or nearly O."

He kist the Countess lips sae red, 25
And her jimp white waist he cuddled O;
She smoothed his beard wi' her luvely hand,
And a' for her Gipsy laddie O.

"And och," she cried, "that I should love thee,
And ever wrong my Earlie O; 30
I ken there's glamour in mine e'ee,
To follow a Gipsy laddie O."

Quo he, "Thou art ane Earl's ladye,
And that is kent fu' fairly O;
But if thou comest awa wi' me, 35
Thou'lt be a queen so rarely O.

"I'm Johnny Faa o' Yetholm town,[L37]
There dwall my min and daddie O;
And sweet Countess, I'm nothing less
Than King o' the Gipsy laddies O." 40

She pull'd off her high heel'd shoes,--
They were made of Spanish leather O,--
She put on her Highland brogues,
To follow the Gipsy laddie O.

At night, when my lord came riding home, 45
Enquiring for his lady O,
The waiting maid made this reply--
"She's following the Gipsy laddie O."

"O now then," quo' the bonny Earl,
"That ever siccan a thing suld be; 50
All ye that love, oh never build
Your nest upon the topmost tree.

"For oh the green leaves they will fall,
And roots and branches wither O;
But the virtue o' a leal woman, 55
I trow wad never swither O.

"Go saddle me my mylk white steed,
Go saddle it so sadly O,
And I will ride out oure the lea,
To follow her Gipsy laddie O. 60

"Go saddle me my bonny black,
And eke my gray cowt quickly O;
Gin I hae not Johnny Faa his head,
The de'il may claw me tightly O.

"Have you been east, or have you been west, 65
Or have you been brisk and bonny O,
Or have you seen a gay lady
Following a Gipsy laddie O?"

He rode all the summer's night,
And part of the next morning O; 70
At length he espied his own wedded wife,
She was cold, wet, and weary O.

The leddy sabbed, the leddy cried,
And wrung her hands sae sadly O;
And aye her moan was to the Earl, 75
To spare her Gipsy laddie O.

"Why did you leave your houses and lands,
Or why did you leave your money O,
Or why did you leave your own wedded lord,
To follow the Gipsy laddie O?" 80

"O what care I for houses and lands,
Or what care I for money O?
So as I have brew'd, so I will drink,
So fare you well, my honey O."

They marched them to the gallows tree, 85
Whilst the Earl stood at the window O;
And aye the smile was on his lip,
As he thocht on the Gipsy laddie O.

There were seven Gipsies in a gang,
They were so brisk and bonny O, 90
And they're to be hang'd all in a row,
For the Earl o' Castle's leddy O.

37. "Yetholm, on the borders of Northumberland, situated among the recesses of the Cheviots, has ever been the headquarters of the Gipsy tribes. The Faas, (a corruption of Fall, their original designation,) the Youngs, Armstrongs, and Gordons still look up to this straggling village as their city of refuge." SHELDON.

JAMIE DOUGLAS. See p. 135.

From Finlay's _Scottish Ballads_, ii. 4.

When I fell sick, an' very sick,
An' very sick, just like to die,
A gentleman of good account
He cam on purpose to visit me;
But his blackie whispered in my lord's ear, 5
He was owre lang in the room wi' me.

"Gae little page, an' tell your lord,
Gin he will come and dine wi' me,
I'll set him on a chair of gold,
And serve him on my bended knee." 10

The little page gaed up the stair,--
"Lord Douglass, dine wi' your ladie:
She'll set ye on a chair of gold,
And serve you on her bended knee."

"When cockle shells turn silver bells, 15
When wine drieps red frae ilka tree,
When frost and snaw will warm us a',
Then I'll cum down an' dine wi' thee."

But whan my father gat word o' this,
O what an angry man was he! 20
He sent fourscore o' his archers bauld
To bring me safe to his countrie.

When I rose up then in the morn,
My goodly palace for to lea',
I knocked at my lord's chamber door, 25
But ne'er a word wad he speak to me.

But slowly, slowly, rose he up,
And slowly, slowly, cam he down,
And when he saw me set on my horse,
He caused his drums and trumpets soun. 30

"Now fare ye weel my goodly palace,
And fare ye weel, my children three;
God grant your father grace to love you,
Far more than ever he loved me."

He thocht that I was like himsel, 35
That had a woman in every hall;
But I could swear by the heavens clear,
I never loved man but himsel.

As on to Embro' town we cam,
My guid father he welcomed me; 40
He caused his minstrels meet to sound,--
It was nae music at a' to me.

"Now haud your tongue, my daughter dear,
Leave off your weeping, let it be;
For Jamie's divorcement I'll send over; 45
Far better lord I'll provide for thee."

"O haud your tongue, my father dear,
And of such talking let me be;
For never a man shall come to my arms,
Since my lord has sae slighted me." 50

O an' I had ne'er crossed the Tweed,
Nor yet been owre the river Dee,
I might hae staid at Lord Orgul's gate,
Where I wad hae been a gay ladie.

The ladies they will cum to town, 55
And they will cum and visit me;
But I'll set me down now in the dark,
For ochanie! who'll comfort me?

An' wae betide ye, black fastness,[L59]
Ay, and an ill deid may ye die! 60
Ye was the first and foremost man
Wha parted my true lord and me.

59: fastness, printed Fastness by Finlay, is, says Motherwell, merely falsetness, falseness.

LAIRD OF BLACKWOOD. See p. 135.

Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 60.

"I lay sick, and very sick,
And I was bad, and like to die,
A friend o' mine cam to visit me;--
And Blackwood whisper'd in my lord's ear,
That he was owre lang in chamber wi' me. 5

"O what need I dress up my head,
Nor what need I kaim doun my hair,
Whan my gude lord has forsaken me,
And says he will na love me mair!

"But O! an my young babe was born, 10
And set upon some nourice knee,
And I mysel war dead and gane,--
For a maid again I'll never be."--

"Na mair o' this, my dochter dear,
And of your mourning let abee; 15
For a bill of divorce I'll gar write for him,
A mair better lord I'll get for thee."

"Na mair o' this, my father dear,
And of your folly let abee;
For I wad na gie ae look o' my lord's face, 20
For a' the lords in the haill countrie.

"But I'll cast off my robes o' red,
And I'll put on my robes o' blue;
And I will travel to some other land,
To see gin my love will on me rue. 25

"There sall na wash come on my face,
There sall na kaim come on my hair;
There sall neither coal nor candle licht
Be seen intil my bouer na mair.

"O! wae be to thee Blackwood, 30
And an ill death may ye die,
For ye've been the haill occasion
Of parting my lord and me."

THE PROVOST'S DOCHTER. See p. 180.

Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 131.

The Provost's dochter went out a walking,
_A may's love whiles is easie won_;
She heard a puir prisoner making his meane,
And she was the fair flow'r o' Northumberland.

"Gif onie ladie wad borrow me 5
Out into this prison strang,
I wad make her a ladie o' hie degree,
For I am a gret lard in fair Scotland."

She has dune her to her father's bed-stock,
_A may's love whiles is easie won_! 10
She has stown the keys o' monie braw lock,
And she has lows'd him out o' prison strang.

She has dune her to her father's stable,
_A may's love whiles is easie won_!
She has tane out a steed, baith swift and able, 15
To carry them baith to fair Scotland.

Whan they cam to the Scottish corss,
_A may's love whiles is easie won_!
"Ye brazen-faced hure, licht aff o' my horse,
And go, get ye back to Northumberland." 20

Whan they cam to the Scottish muir,
_A may's love whiles is easie won_!
"Get aff o' my horse, ye brazen-fac'd hure,
So, go, get ye back to Northumberland."

"O pity on me! O pity!" said she, 25
"O that my love was so easie won!
Have pity on me, as I had upon thee,
Whan I lows'd ye out o' prison strang."

"O how can I hae pity on thee?
O why was your love sae easie won? 30
Whan I hae a wife and children three,
Mair worthy than a' in Northumberland."

"Cook in your kitchen I will be,--
O that my love was sae easie won!
And serve your lady maist reverentlie, 35
For I darna gang back to Northumberland."

"Cook in my kitchen, ye sall not be,--
Why was your love so easie won?
For I will hae na sic servants as thee,
So, get ye back to Northumberland. 40

But laith was he the lassie to tyne,
_A may's love whiles is easie won_!
He hired an auld horse, and fee'd an auld man,
To carry her back to Northumberland.

Whan she cam her father afore, 45
_A may's love whiles is easie won_!
She fell at his feet on her knees sae low,--
She was the fair flow'r o' Northumberland.

"O dochter, dochter, why was ye bauld,
O why was your love sae easie won! 50
To be a Scot's hure in your fifteen year auld,
And ye the fair flow'r o' Northumberland!"

Her mother on her sae gentlie smil'd,--
"O that her love was sae easie won!
She's na the first that the Scots hae beguil'd, 55
And she's still the fair flow'r o' Northumberland.

"She shanna want gowd, she shanna want fee,
Although her love was easie won;
She shanna want gowd to gain a man wi',
And she'll still be the fair flow'r o' Northumberland." 60

BLANCHEFLOUR, AND JELLYFLORICE.

From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 125.

A fragment of the ancient English romance of _Florice and Blancheflour_ is printed in Hartshorne's _Metrical Tales_, p. 81. For the complete story (hardly a trace of which is retained in the following ballad) see Ellis's _Early English Metrical Romances_.

There was a maid, richly array'd,
In robes were rare to see;
For seven years and something mair,
She serv'd a gay ladie.

But being fond o' a higher place, 5
In service she thought lang;
She took her mantle her about,
Her coffer by the band.

And as she walk'd by the shore side,
As blythe's a bird on tree, 10
Yet still she gaz'd her round about,
To see what she could see.

At last she spied a little castle,
That stood near by the sea;
She spied it far, and drew it near, 15
To that castle went she.

And when she came to that castle,
She tirled at the pin;
And ready stood a little wee boy
To lat this fair maid in. 20

"O who's the owner of this place,
O porter boy, tell me?"
"This place belongs unto a queen
O' birth and high degree."

She put her hand in her pocket, 25
And ga'e him shillings three;
"O porter bear my message well,
Unto the queen frae me."

The porter's gane before the queen,
Fell low down on his knee; 30
"Win up, win up, my porter boy,
What makes this courtesie?"

"I ha'e been porter at your yetts,
My dame, these years full three,
But see a ladie at your yetts, 35
The fairest my eyes did see."

"Cast up my yetts baith wide and braid,
Lat her come in to me;
And I'll know by her courtesie,
Lord's daughter if she be." 40

When she came in before the queen,
Fell low down on her knee;
"Service frae you, my dame, the queen,
I pray you grant it me."

"If that service ye now do want, 45
What station will ye be?
Can ye card wool, or spin, fair maid,
Or milk the cows to me?"

"No, I can neither card nor spin,
Nor cows I canno' milk; 50
But sit into a lady's bower,
And sew the seams o' silk."

"What is your name, ye comely dame?
Pray tell this unto me:
"O Blancheflour, that is my name, 55
Born in a strange countrie."

"O keep ye well frae Jellyflorice;
My ain dear son is he;
When other ladies get a gift,
O' that ye shall get three." 60

It wasna tald into the bower,
Till it went thro' the ha',
That Jellyflorice and Blancheflour
Were grown ower great witha'.

When the queen's maids their visits paid, 65
Upo' the gude Yule day,
When other ladies got horse to ride,
She boud take foot and gae.

The queen she call'd her stable groom,
To come to her right seen; 70
Says, "Ye'll take out yon wild waith steed,
And bring him to the green.

"Ye'll take the bridle frae his head,
The lighters frae his e'en;
Ere she ride three times roun' the cross, 75
Her weel days will be dune."

Jellyflorice his true love spy'd,
As she rade roun' the cross;
And thrice he kiss'd her lovely lips,
And took her frae her horse. 80

"Gang to your bower, my lily flower,
For a' my mother's spite;
There's nae other amang her maids,
In whom I take delight.

"Ye are my jewel, and only ane, 85
Nane's do you injury;
For ere this-day-month come and gang,
My wedded wife ye'se be."

CHIL ETHER.

From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 228.

Chil Ether and Lady Maisry
Were baith born at ae birth;
They lov'd each other tenderlie,
Boon every thing on earth.

"They ley likes na the summer shower, 5
Nor girse the mornin' dew,
Better, dear Lady Maisry,
Than Chil Ether loves you."

"The bonny doo likes na its mate,
Nor babe at breast its mither, 10
Better, my dearest Chil Ether,
Than Maisry loves her brither."

But he needs gae to gain renown,
Into some far countrie;
And Chil Ether has gaen abroad, 15
To fight in Paynimie.

And he has been in Paynimie
A twalvemonth and a day;
But never nae tidings did there come,
Of his welfare to say. 20

Then she's ta'en ship, awa' to sail,
Out ower the roaring faem;
A' for to find him, Chil Ether,
And for to bring him hame.

She hadna sail'd the sea a month, 25
A month but barely three,
Until she landit on Ciper's shore,
By the meen-licht sae lie.

Lady Maisry did on her green mantle,
Took her purse in her hand, 30
And call'd to her her mariners,
Syne walk'd up thro' the land.

She walked up, sae did she down,
Till she came till castell high;
There she sat down on the door stane, 35
And weepit bitterlie.

Then out it spake a sweet, sweet voice,
Out ower the castell wa',
"Now isna that Lady Maisry
That makes sic a dolefu' fa'? 40

"But gin that be Lady Maisry,
Lat her make mirth and glee;
For I'm her brother, Chil Ether,
That loves her tenderlie.

"But gin that be Lady Maisry, 45
Lat her take purse in hand;
And gang to yonder castell wa',--
They call it Gorinand.

"Spier for the lord o' that castell,
Gie'm dollars thirty-three; 50
Tell him to ransom Chil Ether,
That loves you tenderlie."

She's done her up to that castell,
Paid down her gude monie;
And sae she's ransom'd Chil Ether, 55
And brought him hame her wi'.

YOUNG BEARWELL.

"A fragment, and now printed in the hope that the remainder of it may hereafter be recovered. From circumstances, one would almost be inclined to trace it to a Danish source; or it may be an episode of some forgotten Metrical Romance: but this cannot satisfactorily be ascertained, from its catastrophe being unfortunately wanting." _Motherwell's Minstrelsy_, p. 345.

The same is in Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 75.

When two lovers love each other weel,
Great sin it were them to twinn;
And this I speak from young Bearwell;
He loved a lady ying,
The Mayor's daughter of Birktoun-brae, 5
That lovely leesome thing.

One day when she was looking out,
When washing her milk-white hands,
Then she beheld him young Bearwell,[L9]
As he came in the sands. 10

Says,--"Wae 's me for you, young Bearwell,
Such tales of you are tauld;
They 'll cause you sail the salt sea so far
As beyond Yorkisfauld."

"O shall I bide in good green wood, 15
Or stay in bower with thee?"
* * * * * *
* * * * * *

"The leaves are thick in good green wood,
Would hold you from the rain;
And if you stay in bower with me,
You will be taken and slain. 20

"But I caused build a ship for you,
Upon Saint Innocent's day;
I 'll bid Saint Innocent be your guide,
And Our Lady, that meikle may.
You are a lady's first true love; 25
God carry you weel away!"

Then he sailed east and he sailed west,
By many a comely strand;
At length a puff of northern wind
Did blow him to the land. 30

When he did see the king and court,
Were playing at the ba';
Gave him a harp into his hand,
Says,--"Stay, Bearwell, and play."

He had not been in the king's court 35
A twelvemonth and a day,
Till there came lairds and lords enew,
To court that lady gay.

They wooed her with broach and ring,
They nothing could keep back; 40
The very charters of their lands
Into her hands they pat.

She 's done her down to Heyvalin,
With the light of the mune:
Says,--"Will ye do this deed for me, 45
And will ye do it sune?

"Will ye go seek him young Bearwell,
On seas wherever he be?
And if I live and bruik my life,
Rewarded ye shall be." 50

"Alas, I am too young a skipper,
So far to sail the faem;
But if I live and bruik my life,
I 'll strive to bring him hame."

So he has sail'd east and then sail'd west, 55
By many a comely strand;
Till there came a blast of northern wind,
And blew him to the land.

And there the king and all his court
Were playing at the ba'; 60
Gave him a harp into his hand,
Says,--"Stay, Heyvalin, and play."

He has tane up the harp in hand,
And unto play went he;
And young Bearwell was the first man 65
In all that companie.

9, That.

LORD THOMAS OF WINESBERRY AND THE KING'S DAUGHTER.

From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 212. Another version is given in Buchan's _Gleanings_, p. 127, and a third by Kinloch, p. 93. Kinloch considers that the ballad may relate to the secret expedition of James V. to France, in 1536, in search of a wife. In the last verse of his copy of the ballad, Lord Thomas turns out to be no less a man than the King of Scotland.

Seven years the king he staid
Into the land of Spain,
And seven years true Thomas was
His daughter's chamberlain.

But it fell ance upon a day 5
The king he did come home;
She beked and she benjed ben,
And did him there welcome.

"What aileth you, my daughter, Janet,
You look sae pale and wan? 10
There is a dreder in your heart,
Or else ye love a man."

"There is no dreder in my heart,
Nor do I love a man;
But it is for your long byding 15
Into the land of Spain."

"Ye'll cast aff your bonny brown gown,
And lay it on a stane;
And I'll tell you, my jelly Janet,
If ever ye loved a man." 20

She's cast off her bonny brown gown,
And laid it on a stane;
Her belly was big, her twa sides high,
Her colour it was quite gane.

"O is it to a man o' might, Janet? 25
Or is it till a man that's mean?
Or is it to one of my poor soldiers,
That I've brought hame frae Spain?"

"It's not till a man o' might," she says,
"Nor yet to a man that's mean; 30
But it is to Thomas o' Winesberry,
That cannot langer len'."

"O where are all my wall-wight men,
That I pay meat and fee;
That will gae for him, true Thomas, 35
And bring him here to me?
For the morn, ere I eat or drink,
High hanged shall he be."

She's turn'd her right and round about,
The tear blindet her e'e; 40
"If ye do any ill to true Thomas,
Ye'se never get guid o' me."

When Thomas came before the king,
He glanced like the fire;
His hair was like the threads o' gowd, 45
His eyes like crystal clear.

"It was nae wonder, my daughter, Janet,
Altho' ye loved this man;
If he were a woman, as he is a man,
My bed-fellow he would been. 50

"O will ye marry my daughter Janet?
The truth's in your right hand;
Ye'se hae some o' my gowd, and some o' my gear,
And the twalt part o' my land."

"It's I will marry your daughter Janet; 55
The truth's in my right hand;
I'll hae nane o' your gowd, nor nane o' your gear,
I've enough in my own land.

"But I will marry your daughter Janet,
With thirty ploughs and three, 60
And four an' twenty bonny breast-mills,
All on the water of Dee.

LADY ELSPAT.

Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, ii. 191. From the recitation of Mrs. Brown.

"How brent's your brow, my Lady Elspat?
How gouden yellow is your hair?
O' a' the maids o' fair Scotland,
There's nane like Lady Elspat fair."

"Perform your vows, sweet William," she says, 5
"The vows which ye ha' made to me;
And at the back o' my mither's castell,
This night I'll surely meet wi' thee."

But wae be to her brother's page,
That heard the words thir twa did say; 10
He's tald them to her lady mither,
Wha wrought sweet William mickle wae.

For she has ta'en him, sweet William,
And she's gar'd bind him wi' his bow string,
Till the red bluid o' his fair body 15
Frae ilka nail o' his hand did spring.

O it fell ance upon a time
That the Lord-justice came to town;
Out has she ta'en him, sweet William,
Brought him before the Lord-justice boun'. 20

"And what is the crime, now, lady," he says,
"That has by this young man been dane?"
"O he has broken my bonny castell,
That was weel biggit wi' lime and stane.

"And he has broken my bonny coffers, 25
That was weel bandit wi' aiken ban;
And he has stown my rich jewels;
I wot he has stown them every ane."

Then out it spak her Lady Elspat,
As she sat by Lord-justice' knee; 30
"Now ye hae told your tale, mither,
I pray, Lord-justice, ye'll now hear me.

"He hasna broken her bonny castell,
That was weel biggit wi' lime and stane;
Nor has he stown her rich jewels, 35
For I wat she has them every ane.

"But though he was my first true love,
And though I had sworn to be his bride,
'Cause he hadna a great estate,
She would this way our loves divide." 40

Syne out and spak the Lord-justice,
I wat the tear was in his e'e;
"I see nae faut in this young man;
Sae loose his bands, and set him free.

"And tak your love, now, Lady Elspat, 45
And my best blessin' you baith upon;
For gin he be your first true love,
He is my eldest sister's son.