Chapter XXIV: Part 24

The fourteenth stanza, as now printed, the eighteenth in Jamieson's copy, is not there bracketed as an interpolation, and yet it is not in the manuscript. This stanza, however, with some verbal variation, is found in Scott's version, and as it may have been obtained by Jamieson in one of his visits to Mrs Brown, it has been allowed to stand.

Lewis rewrote the William Tytler version for his Tales of Wonder, 'Courteous King Jamie,' II, 453, No 57, and it was in this shape that the ballad first came out, 1801.

The story is a variety of that which is found in 'The Marriage of Sir Gawain,' and has its parallel, as Scott observed, in an episode in Hrólfr Kraki's saga; #A#, Torfæus, Historia Hrolfi Krakii, c. vii, Havniæ, 1705; #B#, Fornaldar Sögur, Rafn, I, 30 f, c. 15.

King Helgi, father of Hrólfr Kraki, in consequence of a lamentable misadventure, was living in a solitary way in a retired lodge. One stormy Yule-night there was a loud wail at the door, after he had gone to bed. Helgi bethought himself that it was unkingly of him to leave anything to suffer outside, and got up and unlocked the door. There he saw a poor tattered creature of a woman, hideously misshapen, filthy, starved, and frozen (#A#), who begged that she might come in. The king took her in, and bade her get under straw and bearskin to warm herself. She entreated him to let her come into his bed, and said that her life depended on his conceding this boon. "It is not what I wish," replied Helgi, "but if it is as thou sayest, lie here at the stock, in thy clothes, and it will do me no harm." She got into the bed, and the king turned to the wall. A light was burning, and after a while the king took a look over his shoulder; never had he seen a fairer woman than was lying there, and not in rags, but in a silk kirtle. The king turned towards her now, and she informed him that his kindness had freed her from a weird imposed by her stepmother, which she was to be subject to till some king had admitted her to his bed, #A#. She had asked this grace of many, but no one before had been moved to grant it.

Every point of the Norse saga, except the stepmother's weird, is found in the Gaelic tale 'Nighean Righ fo Thuinn,' 'The Daughter of King Under-waves,' Campbell's Popular Tales of the West Highlands, No lxxxvi, III, 403 f.

The Finn were together one wild night, when there was rain and snow. An uncouth woman knocked at Fionn's door about midnight, and cried to him to let her in under cover. "Thou strange, ugly creature, with thy hair down to thy heels, how canst thou ask _me_ to let thee in!" he answered. She went away, with a scream, and the whole scene was repeated with Oisean. Then she came to Diarmaid. "Thou art hideous," he said, "and thy hair is down to thy heels, but come in." When she had come in, she told Diarmaid that she had been travelling over ocean and sea for seven years, without being housed, till he had admitted her. She asked that she might come near the fire. "Come," said Diarmaid; but when she approached everybody retreated, because she was so hideous. She had not been long at the fire, when she wished to be under Diarmaid's blanket. "Thou art growing too bold," said he, "but come." She came under the blanket, and he turned a fold of it between them. "She was not long thus, when he gave a start, and he gazed at her, and he saw the finest drop of blood that ever was, from the beginning of the universe till the end of the world, at his side."

Mr Campbell has a fragment of a Gaelic ballad upon this story, vol. xvii., p. 212 of his manuscript collection, 'Collun gun Cheann,' or 'The Headless Trunk,' twenty-two lines. In this case, as the title imports, a body without a head replaces the hideous, dirty, and unkempt draggle-tail who begs shelter of the Finn successively and obtains her boon only from Diarmaid. See Campbell's Gaelic Ballads, p. ix.

The monstrous deformity of the woman is a trait in the ballad of 'The Marriage of Sir Gawain,' and related stories, and is described in these with revolting details. Her exaggerated appetite also is found in the romance of The Wedding of Sir Gawen and Dame Ragnell, see p. 290. The occasion on which she exhibits it is there the wedding feast, and the scene consequently resembles, even more closely there than here, what we meet with in the Danish ballads of 'Greve Genselin,' Grundtvig, No 16, I, 222, and 'Tord af Havsgaard,' Grundtvig, No 1, I, 1, IV, 580 (==Kristensen, 'Thors Hammer,' I, 85, No 35) the latter founded on the þrymskviða, or Hamarsheimt, of the older Edda. In a Norwegian version of 'Greve Genselin,' Grundtvig, IV, 732, the feats of eating and drinking are performed not by the bride, but by an old woman who acts as bridesmaid, brúrekvinne.[293]

A maid who submits, at a linden-worm's entreaty, to lie in the same bed with him, finds a king's son by her side in the morning: Grundtvig, 'Lindormen,' No 65, #B#, #C#, II, 213, III, 839; Kristensen, I, 195, No 71; Afzelius, III, 121, No 88; Arwidsson, II, 270, No 139; Hazelius, Ur de nordiska Folkens Lif, p. 117, and p. 149. In 'Ode und de Slang',' Müllenhoff, Sagen u. s. w., p. 383, a maid, without much reluctance, lets a snake successively come into the house, into her chamber, and finally into her bed, upon which the snake changes immediately into a prince.

Scott's copy is translated by Schubart, p. 127, and by Gerhard, p. 129; Jamieson's, without the interpolations, after Aytoun, II, 22, by Knortz, Schottische Balladen, No 36.

1
Lat never a man a wooing wend
That lacketh thingis three;
A routh o gold, an open heart,
Ay fu o charity.

2
As this I speak of King Henry,
For he lay burd-alone;
An he's doen him to a jelly hunt's ha,
Was seven miles frae a town.

3
He chas'd the deer now him before,
An the roe down by the den,
Till the fattest buck in a' the flock
King Henry he has slain.

4
O he has doen him to his ha,
To make him beerly cheer;
An in it came a griesly ghost,
Steed stappin i the fleer.

5
Her head hat the reef-tree o the house,
Her middle ye mot wel span;
He's thrown to her his gay mantle,
Says, 'Lady, hap your lingcan.'

6
Her teeth was a' like teather stakes,
Her nose like club or mell;
An I ken naething she 'peard to be,
But the fiend that wons in hell.

7
'Some meat, some meat, ye King Henry,
Some meat ye gie to me!'
'An what meat's in this house, lady,
An what ha I to gie?'
'O ye do kill your berry-brown steed,
An you bring him here to me.'

8
O whan he slew his berry-brown steed,
Wow but his heart was sair!
Shee eat him [a'] up, skin an bane,
Left naething but hide an hair.

9
'Mair meat, mair meat, ye King Henry,
Mair meat ye gi to me!'
'An what meat's in this house, lady,
An what ha I to gi?'
'O ye do kill your good gray-hounds,
An ye bring them a' to me.'

10
O whan he slew his good gray-hounds,
Wow but his heart was sair!
She eat them a' up, skin an bane,
Left naething but hide an hair.

11
'Mair meat, mair meat, ye King Henry,
Mair meat ye gi to me!'
'An what meat's i this house, lady,
An what ha I to gi?'
'O ye do kill your gay gos-hawks,
An ye bring them here to me.'

12
O whan he slew his gay gos-hawks,
Wow but his heart was sair!
She eat them a' up, skin an bane,
Left naething but feathers bare.

13
'Some drink, some drink, now, King Henry,
Some drink ye bring to me!'
'O what drink's i this house, lady,
That you're nae welcome ti?'
'O ye sew up your horse's hide,
An bring in a drink to me.'

| 14
| And he's sewd up the bloody hide,
| A puncheon o wine put in;
| She drank it a' up at a waught,
| Left na ae drap ahin.

15
'A bed, a bed, now, King Henry,
A bed you mak to me!
For ye maun pu the heather green,
An mak a bed to me.'

16
O pu'd has he the heather green,
An made to her a bed,
An up has he taen his gay mantle,
An oer it has he spread.

17
'Tak aff your claiths, now, King Henry,
An lye down by my side!'
'O God forbid,' says King Henry,
'That ever the like betide;
That ever the fiend that wons in hell
Shoud streak down by my side.'

* * * * * * *

18
Whan night was gane, and day was come,
An the sun shone throw the ha,
The fairest lady that ever was seen
Lay atween him an the wa.

19
'O well is me!' says King Henry,
'How lang'll this last wi me?'
Then out it spake that fair lady,
'Even till the day you dee.

20
'For I've met wi mony a gentle knight
That's gien me sic a fill,
But never before wi a courteous knight
That ga me a' my will.'

* * * * *

#a.#

13^6. shew.

19^1. will.

#b.#

1. _The first stanza of the original of this copy, as
cited by Anderson, is_:

Let never a man a wooing wend
That lacketh things three,
A routh of gold, and open heart,
An fu o charity.

1^4. And fu o courtesey.

2^1. And this was seen o.

2^3. And he has taen him to a haunted hunt's ha.

3^1. He's chaced the dun deer thro the wood.

3^3. in a' the herd.

4.

He's taen him to his hunting ha,
For to make burly cheir;
When loud the wind was heard to sound,
And an earthquake rocked the floor.

And darkness coverd a' the hall,
Where they sat at their meat;
The gray dogs, youling, left their food,
And crept to Henrie's feet.

And louder houled the rising wind
And burst the fastned door;
And in there came a griesly ghost,
Stood stamping on the floor.

_The wind and darkness are not of Scott's invention, for
nearly all that is not in #a# is found in Lewis, too._

5^{3,4}.

Each frighted huntsman fled the ha,
And left the king alone.

7^{4-6}.

That ye're nae wellcum tee?'
'O ye's gae kill your berry brown steed,
And serve him up to me.'

9^4. That ye're na wellcum tee?

10^3. a' up, ane by ane.

11^{4-6}.

That I hae left to gie?'
'O ye do fell your gay goss-hawks,
And bring them a' to me.'

12^1. he felled.

12^3. bane by bane.

14^2. And put in a pipe of wine.

14^3. up a' at ae draught.

14^4. drap therein.

15. _Between ^2 and ^3_:

And what's the bed i this house, ladye,
That ye're nae wellcum tee?

15^3. O ye maun pu the green heather.

17^{1,2}.

Now swear, now swear, ye king Henrie,
To take me for your bride.

18^1. When day was come, and night was gane.

19^3. And out and spak that ladye fair.

20.

For I was witched to a ghastly shape,
All by my stepdame's skill,
Till I should meet wi a courteous knight
Wad gie me a' my will.

[293] The like by a carlin at a birth-feast, 'Kællingen til Barsel,' Kristensen, II, 341, No 100, Landstad, p. 666, No 96; known also in Sweden. Again, by a fighting friar, 'Den stridbare Munken,' Arwidsson, I, 417. 'Greve Genselin' is translated by Prior, I, 173, and by Jamieson, Illustrations of Northern Antiquities, p. 310; 'Tord af Havsgaard' by Prior, I, 3.

33

KEMPY KAY

#A.# 'Kempy Kay.' Pitcairn's MSS, II, 125. Scotish Ballads
and Songs [James Maidment], Edinb. 1859, p. 85; Sharpe's
Ballad Book, p. 81.

#B.# 'Kempy Kaye.' #a.# Kinloch MSS, I, 65. #b.# Kinloch's
Ballad Book, p. 41.

#C.# 'Kempy Kay,' or 'Kempy Kane,' Motherwell's MS., p.
193. The first stanza in Motherwell's Minstrelsy,
Appendix, p. xxiv, No XXX.

#D.# 'Kempy Kay,' Motherwell's MS., p. 192.

#E.# 'Drowsy Lane.' Campbell MSS, II, 122.

#F.# 'Bar aye your bower door weel.' Campbell MSS, II,
101.

#G.# 'King Knapperty.' Buchan's MSS, I, 133.

All these versions of 'Kempy Kay' are known, or may be presumed, to have been taken down within the first three decades of this century; #A# is traced as many years back into the last. The fourth stanza of #A# clearly belongs to some other ballad. Both #A# and #B# appear to have undergone some slight changes when published by Sharpe and Kinloch respectively. Some verses from this ballad have been adopted into one form of a still more unpleasant piece in the Campbell collection, concerning a wife who was "the queen of all sluts."[294]

Sharpe remarks: "This song my learned readers will perceive to be of Scandinavian origin, and that the wooer's name was probably suggested by Sir Kaye's of the Round Table.... The description of Bengoleer's daughter resembles that of the enchanted damsel who appeared to courteous King Henrie." It is among possibilities that the ballad was an outgrowth from some form of the story of The Marriage of Sir Gawain, in the Percy version of which the "unseemly" lady is so rudely commented on and rejected by Kay. This unseemly lady, in The Wedding of Gawen and Dame Ragnell, and her counterpart in 'King Henry,' who is of superhuman height, show an extravagant voracity which recalls the giantess in 'Greve Genselin.' In 'Greve Genselin,' a burlesque form of an heroic ballad which is preserved in a pure shape in three Färöe versions (Grundtvig, IV, 737-42), there are many kemps invited to the wedding, and in a little dance which is had the smallest kemp is fifteen ells to [below] the knee, Grundtvig, No 16, #A# 26, #B# 29, #C# 29. Kempy Kay has gigantic dimensions in #A# 7, #C# 9, #E# 7: teeth like tether-stakes, a nose three [nine, five] feet long, three ells [nine yards] between his shoulders, a span between his eyne.[295] Of the bride it is said in #A# 12 that her finger nails were like the teeth of a rake and her teeth like tether-stakes. This is not decisive; it is her ugliness, filthiness, and laziness that are made most of. We may assume that she would be in dimension and the shape of nature a match for the kemp, but she does not comport herself especially like a giantess.

If Kempy Kay be the original name of the wooer, Knapperty and Chickmakin might easily be derived from corrupt pronunciations like Kampeky, Kimpaky.

A

Pitcairn's MSS, II, 125, as taken down by Mr Pitcairn from
the singing of his aunt, Mrs Gammell, who had learned it
in the neighborhood of Kincaid, Stirlingshire, when a
child, or about 1770. Scotish Ballads and Songs [James
Maidment], Edinburgh, 1859, p. 35; Sharpe's Ballad Book,
p. 81.

1
Kempy Kaye's a wooing gane,
Far, far ayont the sea,
And he has met with an auld, auld man,
His gudefaythir to be.

2
'It's I'm coming to court your daughter dear,
And some part of your gear:'
'And by my sooth,' quoth Bengoleer,
'She'll sare a man a wear.

3
'My dochter she's a thrifty lass,
She span seven year to me,
And if it were weel counted up,
Full three heire it would be.

4
'What's the matter wi you, my fair creature,
You look so pale and wan?
I'm sure you was once the fairest creature
That ever the sun shined on.

5
'Gae scrape yoursel, and gae scart yoursel,
And mak your brucket face clean,
For the wooers are to be here to nighte,
And your body's to be seen.'

6
Sae they scrapit her, and they scartit her,
Like the face of an aussy pan;
Syne in cam Kempy Kay himself,
A clever and tall young man.

7
His teeth they were like tether-sticks,
His nose was three fit lang,
Between his shouthers was ells three,
And tween his eyne a span.

8
He led his dochter by the hand,
His dochter ben brought he:
'O is she not the fairest lass
That's in great Christendye?'

9
Ilka hair intil her head
Was like a heather-cowe,
And ilka louse anunder it
Was like a bruckit ewe.

10
She had tauchy teeth and kaily lips,
And wide lugs, fou o hair;
Her pouches fou o peasemeal-daighe
A' hinging down her spare.

11
Ilka eye intil her head
Was like a rotten plumbe,
And down browed was the queyne,
And sairly did she gloom.

12
Ilka nail upon her hand
Was like an iron rake,
And ilka tooth intil her head
Was like a tether-stake.

* * * * * * *

13
She gied to him a gravat,
O the auld horse's sheet,
And he gied her a gay gold ring,
O the auld couple-root.

B

#a.# Kinloch MSS, I, 65. #b.# Kinloch's Ballad Book, p.
41. From the recitation of Mary Barr.

1
Kempy Kaye is a wooing gane,
Far ayont the sea,
And there he met wi auld Goling,
His gudefather to be, be,
His gudefather to be.

2
'Whar are ye gaun, O Kempy Kaye,
Whar are ye gaun sae sune?'
'O I am gaun to court a wife,
And think na ye that's weel dune?'

3
'An ye be gaun to court a wife,
As ye do tell to me,
'T is ye sal hae my Fusome Fug,
Your ae wife for to be.'

4
Whan auld Goling cam to the house,
He lookit thro a hole,
And there he saw the dirty drab
Just whisking oure the coal.

5
'Rise up, rise up my Fusome Fug,
And mak your foul face clean,
For the brawest wooer that ere ye saw
Is come develling doun the green.'

6
Up then rose the Fusome Fug,
To mak her foul face clean;
And aye she cursed her mither
She had na water in.

7
She rampit out, and she rampit in,
She rampit but and ben;
The tittles and tattles that hang frae her tail
Wad muck an acre o land.

8
She had a neis upon her face
Was like an auld pat-fit;
Atween her neis hot an her mon
Was inch thick deep wi dirt.

9
She had twa een intil her head
War like twa rotten plums;
The heavy brows hung doun her face,
And O I vow she glooms!

10
He gied to her a braw silk napkin,
Was made o' an auld horse-brat:
'I ne'er wore a silk napkin a' my life,
But weel I wat Ise wear that.'

11
He gied to her a braw gowd ring,
Was made frae an auld brass pan:
'I neer wore a gowd ring in a' my life,
But now I wat Ise wear ane.'

12
Whan thir twa lovers had met thegither,
O kissing to get their fill,
The slaver that hang atween their twa gabs
Wad hae tetherd a ten year auld bill.

C

Motherwell's MS., p. 193. Motherwell's Minstrelsy,
Appendix, p. xxiv, No XXX, the first stanza.

1
Kempy Kaye's a wooing gane,
And far beyond the sea, a wee
And there he met wi Drearylane,
His gay gudefather to be. a wee

2
'Gude een, gude een,' quo Drearylane,
'Gude een, gude een,' quo he, a wee
'I've come your dochter's love to win,
I kenna how it will do.' a wee

3
'My dochter she's a thrifty lass,
She's spun this gay seven year,
And if it come to gude guiding,
It will be half a heer.'

4
'Rise up, rise up, ye dirty slut,
And wash your foul face clean;
The wooers will be here the night
That suld been here yestreen.'

5
They took him ben to the fire en,
And set him on a chair;
He looked on the lass that he loved best,
And thought she was wondrous fair.

6
The een that was in our bride's head
Was like twa rotten plooms;
She was a chaunler-chaftit quean,
And O but she did gloom!

7
The skin that was on our bride's breast
Was like a saffron bag,
And aye her hand was at her neek,
And riving up the scabs.

8
The hair that was on our bride's head
Was like a heather-cow,
And every louse that lookit out
Was like a brockit ewe.

9
Betwixd Kempy's shouthers was three ells,
His nose was nine feet lang,
His teeth they were like tether sticks,
Between his eyne a span.

10
So aye they kissed, and aye they clapped,
I wat they kissed weel;
The slaver that hang between their mouths
Wad hae tethered a twa year auld bill.

D

Motherwell's MS., p. 192.

* * * * * * *

1
The father came unto the door,
And keeked thro the key-hole, a wee
And there he saw his dochter Jean,
Sitting on a coal. a wee

2
They scartit her, and scrapit her,
Wi the hand o a rusty pan, a wee
Her father he did all his best
For to get her a man. a wee

3
She is to the stoups gane,
There is nae water in;
She's cursed the hands and ban'd the feet
That did na bring it in.

4
Out then spak her auld mither,
In her bed whare she lay:
'If there is nae water in the house,
Gae harl her thro the lin.'

5
O she is to the taipy tapples gane,
That stood for seven year,
And there she washed her foul face clean,
And dried it wi a huggar.

6
He's gien her a gay gold ring,
Just like a cable-rope,
And she's gien him a gay gravat,
Made out o the tail o a sark.

E

Campbell MSS, II, 122.

1
'Gud een, gud een,' says Chickmakin,
'Ye're welcome here,' says Drowsy Lane;
'I'm comd to court your daughter Jean,
And marry her wi yer will, a wee.'

2
'My daughter Jean's a thrifty lass,
She's spun these seven lang years to me,
And gin she spin another seven,
She'll munt a half an heir, a wee.'

3
Drowsy Lane, it's he's gane hame,
And keekit through the hole, a wee
And there he saw his daughter Jean
A reeking oer the coal. a wee

4
'Get up, get up, ye dirty bitch,
And wash yer foul face clean,
For they are to be here the night
That should hae been here yestreen.'

5
Up she rose, pat on her clothes,
She's washen her foul face clean;
She cursd the hands, she ban'd the feet,
That wadna bring the water in.

6
She rubbit hersel, she scrubbit hersel,
Wi the side of a rustit pan, a wee,
And in a little came Chickmakin,
A braw young lad indeed was he.

7
His teeth they were like tether-steeks,
His nose was five feet lang;
Between his shoulders was nine yards broad,
And between his een a span.

8
Ilka hair into his head
Was like a heather-cowe,
And ilka louse that lookit out
Was like a brookit ewe.

9
Thae twa kissd and thae twa clapt,
And thae twa kissd their fill,
And aye the slaver between them hang
Wad tetherd a ten-pund bull.

10
They twa kissd and they twa clapt,
And they gaed to their bed, a wee,
And at their head a knocking stane
And at their feet a mell, a wee.

11
The auld wife she lay in her bed:
'And gin ye'll do my bidding a wee,
And gin ye'll do my bidding,' quoth she,
'Yees whirl her oer the lea, a wee.'

F

Campbell MSS, II, 101.

1
As I cam oer yon misty muir,
And oer yon grass-green hill,
There I saw a campy carle
Going to the mill.
And bar aye yer bower door weel weel,
And bar aye yer bower door weel.

2
I lookit in at her window,
And in at her hove hole,
And there I saw a fousome fag,
Cowering oer a coal.

3
'Get up, get up, ye fousome fag,
And make yer face fou clean;
For the wooers will be here the night,
And your body will be seen.'

4
He gave her a gay cravat,
'T was of an auld horse-sheet;
He gave her a gay goud ring,
'T was of an auld tree root.

5
He laid his arms about her neck,
They were like kipple-roots;
And aye he kissd her wi his lips,
They were like meller's hoops.

6
When they were laid in marriage bed,
And covered oer wi fail,
The knocking mell below their heads
Did serve them wondrous weel.

7
Ilka pap into her breasts
Was like a saffron bag,
And aye his hand at her a..e
Was tearing up the scabs.

8
Ilka hair into her head
Was like a heather-cow,
And ilka louse that lookit out
Was like a brookit ewe.

G

Buchan's MSS, I, 133.

1
King Knapperty he's a hunting gane,
Oer hills and mountains high, high, high,
A gude pike-staff intill his hand,
And dulgets anew forbye, I, I, I,
And dulgets anew forbye.

2
Then he met in wi an auld woman,
Was feeding her flocks near by, I, I, I:
'I'm come a wooing to your daughter,
And a very gude bargain am I, I, I.'

3
And she's awa to her wee hole house,
Lookd in a wee chip hole,
And there she saw her filthy wee flag,
Was sitting athort the coal.

4
'Get up, get up, ye filthy foul flag,
And make your foul face clean;
There are wooers coming to the town,
And your foul face mauna be seen.'

5
Then up she raise, an awa she gaes,
And in at the back o the door,
And there a pig o water she saw,
'T was seven years auld an mair.

6
Aye she rubbed, an aye she scrubbed,
To make her foul face clean,
And aye she bannd the auld wife, her mither,
For nae bringing clean water in.

7
King Knapperty he came in at the door,
Stood even up in the floor;
Altho that she had neer seen him before,
She kent him to be her dear.

8
He has taen her in his arms twa,
And kissd her, cheek and chin:
'I neer was kissd afore in my life,
But this night got mony ane.'

9
He has put his hand in his pocket,
And he's taen out a ring:
Says, 'Take ye that, my dearest dear,
It is made o the brazen pan.'

10
She thankd him ance, she thankd him twice,
She thankd him oer again:
'I neer got a ring before in my life,
But this night hae gotten ane.'

11
These lovers bed it was well made,
And at their hearts' desire;
These lovers bed it was well made,
At the side o the kitchen fire.

12
The bolster that these lovers had
Was the mattock an the mell,
And the covring that these lovers had
Was the clouted cloak an pale.

13
The draps that fell frae her twa een
Woud have gard a froth-mill gang,
An [the] clunkerts that hung at their heels
Woud hae muckd an acre o land.

14
An ilka hair that was in their head
Was like a heather-cow,
And ilka tenant that it containd
Was like a lintseed-bow.

* * * * *

#A.#

5^{3,4}. _Var._

For Kempy Kay will be here the night
Or else the morn at een.

9^4. _Var._ Was like a lintseed bow.

_These variations are found in Sharpe's copy. The first
seven stanzas are put in the order 1, 6, 7, 3, 2, 4, 5._

2^1. I'm coming.

3^4. Full ten wobs it would be.

4^{1,3}. fair maiden, fairest maiden.

5^2. bruchty.

6^3. And in.

7^4. Between his een.

10^1. _~tauchty~ is misprinted ~lauchty~._

10^4. War hinging.

11^3. An down down.

12^3. _~teeth~, no doubt to indicate the pronunciation._

#B. a.#

4^1. Whan Kempy Kaye. _Other copies show that it must be
the father, and not the wooer._

6^3. _~ae~, with ~ay~ in the margin: qu. ~aye as~?_

#b.#

_The variations of the ~Ballad Book~ are apparently
arbitrary._

1^2. Far far.

8^4. o dirt.

_After 9 follows_:

Ilka hair that was on her head
Was like a heather cow,
And ilka Iouse that lookit out
Was like a lintseed bow.

_#a^4# succeeds, with ~Kempy Kaye~ for ~auld Goling~, and
is necessarily transferred if the reading ~Kempy Kaye~ is
retained._

#C.#

_The order of the first five stanzas in the MS is 1, 2, 5,
4, 3._

_~A wee~ is the burden after every second and fourth
verse, and so with #D#._

1^{1,2}. _In Motherwell's Minstrelsy, Appendix, p. xxiv,
No_ XXX,

Kempy Kane's a wooin gane,
And far ayont the sea awee.

3^2. years.

5^2. on a stool.

#D.#

_The first stanza is numbered 3 in the MS., the second 5,
and there is space left, as if for another, between 2 and
3._

#E.#

_~A wee~, originally a burden at the middle and the end of
the stanza, as in #C#, #D#, has been adopted into the
verse in 1, 2, 6, 10(?), 11, in which stanzas the even
lines are of four accents instead of three. 2, 6 can be
easily restored, on the model of #C# 3, #A# 6._

5^4. in the water.

#G.#

_~I, I, I~ is added as burden to every second and fourth
line; except 1^2, which adds ~high, high~, and 2^4, only
~I, I~._

[294] MSS, II, 294, "What a bad luck had I"==The Queen of all Sluts, the same, p. 297. Stanzas 2, 3, 4, of the former are:

Then een in her head are like two rotten plumbs;
Turn her about and see how she glooms.

The teeth in her head were like harrow-pins;
Turn her about, and see how she girns.

The hair in her head was like heathercrows,
The l ...s were in't thick as linseed bows.

A comparatively inoffensive version, 'The Queen of Sluts,' in Chambers' Scottish Songs, p. 454.

[295] The Carl of Carlile has the space of a large span between his brows, three yards over his shoulders, fingers like tether-stakes, and fifty cubits of height. Percy MS., Hales & Furnivall, III, 283 f, vv 179-187.

34

KEMP OWYNE

#A.# 'Kemp Owyne.' Buchan's Ballads of the North of
Scotland, II, 78; Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 373; 'Kemp
Owayne,' Motherwell's MS., p. 448.

#B.# 'Kempion.' #a.# Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 29. #b.#
Scott's Minstrelsy, 1802, II, 93, from William Tytler's
Brown MS., No 9, "with corrections from a recited
fragment."

It is not, perhaps, material to explain how Owain, "the king's son Urien," happens to be awarded the adventure which here follows. It is enough that his right is as good as that of other knights to whom the same achievement has been assigned, though the romance, or, as the phrase used to be, "the book," says nothing upon the subject. Owain's slaying the fire-drake who was getting the better of the lion may have led to his name becoming associated with the still more gallant exploit of thrice kissing a fire-drake to effect a disenchantment. The ring in #A# 9 might more plausibly be regarded as being a repetition of that which Owain's lady gave him on leaving her for a twelvemonth's outing, a ring which would keep him from loss of blood, and also from prison, sickness, and defeat in battle--in short, preserve him against all the accidents which the knight suggested might prevent his holding his day--provided that he had it by him and thought on her. Ritson, Ywaine and Gawin, vv 1514-38.

But an Icelandic saga comes near enough to the story of the ballad as given in #A# to show where its connections lie. Alsól and a brother and sister are all transformed by a stepmother, a handsome woman, much, younger than her husband. Alsól's heavy weird is to be a nondescript monster with a horse's tail, hoofs, and mane, white eyes, big mouth, and huge hands, and never to be released from the spell till a king's son shall consent to kiss her. One night when Hjálmtèr had landed on a woody island, and it had fallen to him to keep watch, he heard a great din and crashing in the woods, so that the oaks trembled. Presently this monster came out of the thicket with a fine sword in her hand, such as he had not seen the like of. They had a colloquy, and he asked her to let him have the sword. She said he should not have it unless he would kiss her. "I will not kiss thy snout," said Hjálmtèr, "for mayhap I should stick to it." But something came into his mind which made him think better of her offer, and he said he was ready. "You must leap upon my neck, then," she said, "when I throw up the sword, and if you then hesitate, it will be your death." She threw up the sword, he leaped on her neck and kissed her, and she gave him the sword, with an augury of victory and good luck for him all his days. The retransformation does not occur on the spot, but further on Hjálmtèr meets Álsól as a young lady at the court of her brother, who has also been restored to his proper form and station; everything is explained; Hjálmtèr marries her, and his foster-brother her sister. Hjálmtèrs ok Ölvers Saga, cc 10, 22, Rafn, Fornaldar Sögur, III, 473 ff, 514 ff.

In many tales of the sort a single kiss suffices to undo the spell and reverse the transformation; in others, as in the ballad, three are required. The triplication of the kiss has led in #A# to a triplication of the talisman against wounds. The popular genius was inventive enough to vary the properties of the several gifts, and we may believe that belt, ring, and sword had originally each its peculiar quality. The peril of touching fin or tail in #A# seems to correspond to that in the saga of hesitating when the sword is thrown up.

The #Danish# ballad, 'Jomfruen i Ormeham,' from MSS of the sixteenth and the seventeenth century, Grundtvig, No 59, II, 177, resembles both the first version of the Scottish ballad and the Icelandic saga in the points that the maid offers gifts and is rehabilitated by a kiss. The maid in her proper shape, which, it appears, she may resume for a portion of the day, stands at Sir Jenus's bedside and offers him gifts--five silver-bowls, all the gold in her kist, twelve foals, twelve boats--and ends with saying, "Were I a swain, as you are, I would betroth a maid." It is now close upon midnight, and she hints that he must be quick. But Jenus is fast asleep the while; twelve strikes, and the maid instantly turns into a little snake. The page, however, has been awake, and he repeats to his master all that has occurred.[296] Sir Jenus orders his horse, rides along a hillside, and sees the little snake in the grass. He bends over and kisses it, and it turns to a courteous maid, who thanks him, and offers him any boon he may ask. He asks her to be his, and as she has loved him before this, she has no difficulty in plighting him her troth.

A maid transformed by a step-mother into a tree is freed by being kissed by a man, in 'Jomfruen i Linden,' Grundtvig, II, 214, No 66, Kristensen, II, 90, No 31; 'Linden,' Afzelius, III, 114, 118, No 87. In 'Linden,' Kristensen, I, 13, No 5, a combination of two ballads, a prince cuts down the linden, which changes to a linden-worm; he kisses the worm, and a young maid stands before him.

A knight bewitched into the shape of a troll is restored by being kissed by a peasant's wife thrice [once], 'Trolden og Bondens Hustru,' Grundtvig, II, 142, No 52, #A#, #B#; a prince by a kiss from a maid, 'Lindormen,' Grundtvig, D. g. F., II, 211, No 65 #A#, 'Slangen og den lille Pige,' Danske Folkeminder, 1861, p. 15.

The removal of a spell which compels man or woman to appear continuously or alternately as a monster, commonly a snake, by three kisses or by one, is a regular feature in the numerous German tales of Schlangenjungfrauen, Weissefrauen. Often the man is afraid to venture the third kiss, or even a single one. See Grimm, Deutsche Sagen, No 13, No 222; Dobeneck, Des deutschen Mittelalters Volksglauben, I, 18==Grimm, No 13; Mone's Anzeiger, III, 89, VII, 476; Panzer, Bayerische Sagen u. Bräuche, I, 196, No 214; Schönhuth, Die Burgen u.s.w. Badens u. der Pfalz, I, 105; Stöber, Die Sagen des Elsasses, p. 346, No 277, p. 248, No 190; Curtze, Volksüberlieferungen aus Waldeck, p. 198; Sommer, Sagen, Märchen u. Gebräuche aus Sachsen u. Thüringen, p. 21, No 16; Schambach u. Müller, p. 104, No 132; Müllenhoff, p. 580, No 597; Wolf, Hessische Sagen, No 46; etc., etc.: also, Kreutzwald, Ehstnische Märchen, by Löwe, No 19, p. 270 f. So in some forms of 'Beauty and the Beast:' Töppen, Aberglauben aus Masuren, p. 142; Mikuličić, Narodne Pripovietke, p. 1, No 1; Afanasief, VII, 153, No 15; Coelho, Contos populares portuguezes, p. 69, No 29.[297]

Rivals or peers of Owain among romantic knights are, first, Lanzelet, in Ulrich von Zatzikhoven's poem, who kisses a serpent on the mouth once, which, _after bathing in a spring_ (see 'Tam Lin'), becomes the finest woman ever seen: vv 7836-7939. Brandimarte, again, in Orlando Innamorato, lib. II., c. XXVI, stanzas 7-15; and Carduino, I Cantari di Carduino, Rajna, stanzas 49, 54 f, 61-64, pp 35-41. Le Bel Inconnu is an involuntary instrument in such a disenchantment, for the snake fascinates him first and kisses him without his knowledge; he afterwards goes to sleep, and finds a beautiful woman standing at his head when he wakes: ed. Hippeau, p. 110 ff, v. 3101 ff. The English Libius Disconius is kist or he it wist, and the dragon at once turns to a beautiful woman: Percy MS., Hales & Furnivall, II, 493f; Ritson, Romances, II, 84 f. Espertius, in Tiran le Blanc, is so overcome with fear that he cannot kiss the dragon,--a daughter of Hippocrates, transformed by Diana, in the island of Lango,--but Espertius not running away, as two men before him had done, the dragon kisses him with equally good effect: Caylus, Tiran le Blanc, II, 334-39. This particular disenchantment had not been accomplished down to Sir John Mandeville's time, for he mentions only the failures: Voyage and Travel, c. iv, pp 28-31, ed. 1725. Amadis d'Astra touches two dragons on the face and breast, and restores them to young-ladyhood: Historia del Principe Sferamundi, the 13th book of Amadis of Gaul, P. II, c. xcvii, pp 458-462, Venice, 1610. This feat is shown by the details to be only a variation of the story in Tiran le Blanc.[298]

The Rev. Mr Lamb, of Norham, communicated to Hutchinson, author of 'A View of Northumberland,' a ballad entitled 'The Laidley Worm of Spindleston Heughs,' with this harmless preamble: "A song 500 years old, made by the old Mountain Bard, Duncan Frasier, living on Cheviot, A.D. 1270. From an ancient manuscript." This composition of Mr Lamb's--for nearly every line of it is his--is not only based on popular tradition, but evidently preserves some small fragments of a popular ballad, and for this reason is given in an Appendix. There is a copy deviating but very little from the print in Kinloch's MSS, I, 187. It was obtained from the recitation of an old woman in Berwickshire.[299] In this recited version the Child of Wynd, or Childy Wynd (Child O-wyne), has become Child o Wane (Child O-wayn).

Mr R.H. Evans, in his preface to this ballad, Old Ballads, 1810, IV, 241, says that Mr Turner had informed him "that a lady upwards of seventy had heard her mother repeat an older and nearly similar ballad."

* * * * *

#A# is translated by Rosa Warrens, Schottische Volkslieder, p. 19; #B b# by Gerhard, p. 171, by Schubart, p. 110, by Knortz, Lieder u. Romanzen Alt-Englands, p. 201. 'Jomfruen i Ormeham' by Prior, III, 135.

A

Buchan, Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 78, from Mr
Nicol of Strichen, as learned in his youth from old
people; Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 374; Motherwell's MS.,
p. 448.

1
Her mother died when she was young,
Which gave her cause to make great moan;
Her father married the warst woman
That ever lived in Christendom.

2
She served her with foot and hand,
In every thing that she could dee,
Till once, in an unlucky time,
She threw her in ower Craigy's sea.

3
Says, 'Lie you there, dove Isabel,
And all my sorrows lie with thee;
Till Kemp Owyne come ower the sea,
And borrow you with kisses three,
Let all the warld do what they will,
Oh borrowed shall you never be!'

4
Her breath grew strang, her hair grew lang,
And twisted thrice about the tree,
And all the people, far and near,
Thought that a savage beast was she.

5
These news did come to Kemp Owyne,
Where he lived, far beyond the sea;
He hasted him to Craigy's sea,
And on the savage beast lookd he.

6
Her breath was strang, her hair was lang,
And twisted was about the tree,
And with a swing she came about:
'Come to Craigy's sea, and kiss with me.

7
'Here is a royal belt,' she cried,
'That I have found in the green sea;
And while your body it is on,
Drawn shall your blood never be;
But if you touch me, tail or fin,
I vow my belt your death shall be.'

8
He stepped in, gave her a kiss,
The royal belt he brought him wi;
Her breath was strang, her hair was lang,
And twisted twice about the tree,
And with a swing she came about:
'Come to Craigy's sea, and kiss with me.

9
'Here is a royal ring,' she said,
'That I have found in the green sea;
And while your finger it is on,
Drawn shall your blood never be;
But if you touch me, tail or fin,
I swear my ring your death shall be.'

10
He stepped in, gave her a kiss,
The royal ring he brought him wi;
Her breath was strang, her hair was lang,
And twisted ance about the tree,
And with a swing she came about:
'Come to Craigy's sea, and kiss with me.

11
'Here is a royal brand,' she said,
'That I have found in the green sea;
And while your body it is on,
Drawn shall your blood never be;
But if you touch me, tail or fin,
I swear my brand your death shall be.'

12
He stepped in, gave her a kiss,
The royal brand he brought him wi;
Her breath was sweet, her hair grew short,
And twisted nane about the tree,
And smilingly she came about,
As fair a woman as fair could be.

B

#a.# Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 29. #b.# Scott's Minstrelsy,
II, 93, 1802, from William Tytler's Brown MS., No 9, "with
corrections from a recited fragment."

1
'Come here, come here, you freely feed,
An lay your head low on my knee;
The hardest weird I will you read
That eer war read to a lady.

2
'O meikle dollour sall you dree,
An ay the sat seas oer ye['s] swim;
An far mair dollour sall ye dree
On Eastmuir craigs, or ye them clim.

3
'I wot ye's be a weary wight,
An releived sall ye never be
Till Kempion, the kingis son,
Come to the craig and thrice kiss thee.'

4
O meickle dollour did she dree,
An ay the sat seas oer she swam;
An far mair dollour did she dree
On Eastmuir craigs, or them she clam;
An ay she cried for Kempion,
Gin he would come till her han.

5
Now word has gane to Kempion
That sich a beast was in his lan,
An ay be sure she would gae mad
Gin she gat nae help frae his han.

6
'Now by my sooth,' says Kempion,
'This fiery beast I['ll] gang to see;'
'An by my sooth,' says Segramour,
'My ae brother, I'll gang you wi.'

7
O biggit ha they a bonny boat,
An they hae set her to the sea,
An Kempion an Segramour
The fiery beast ha gane to see:
A mile afore they reachd the shore,
I wot she gard the red fire flee.

8
'O Segramour, keep my boat afloat,
An lat her no the lan so near;
For the wicked beast she'll sure gae mad,
An set fire to the land an mair.'

9
'O out o my stye I winna rise--
An it is na for the fear o thee--
Till Kempion, the kingis son,
Come to the craig an thrice kiss me.'

10
He's louted him oer the Eastmuir craig,
An he has gien her kisses ane;
Awa she gid, an again she came,
The fieryest beast that ever was seen.

11
'O out o my stye I winna rise--
An it is na for fear o thee--
Till Kempion, the kingis son,
Come to the craig an thrice kiss me.'

12
He louted him oer the Eastmuir craig,
An he has gien her kisses twa;
Awa she gid, an again she came,
The fieryest beast that ever you saw.

13
'O out o my stye I winna rise--
An it is na for fear o ye--
Till Kempion, the kingis son,
Come to the craig an thrice kiss me.'

14
He's louted him oer the Eastmuir craig,
An he has gien her kisses three;
Awa she gid, an again she came,
The fairest lady that ever coud be.

15
'An by my sooth,' say[s] Kempion,
'My ain true love--for this is she--
O was it wolf into the wood,
Or was it fish intill the sea,
Or was it man, or wile woman,
My true love, that misshapit thee?'

16
'It was na wolf into the wood,
Nor was it fish into the sea,
But it was my stepmother,
An wae an weary mot she be.

17
'O a heavier weird light her upon
Than ever fell on wile woman;
Her hair's grow rough, an her teeth's grow lang,
An on her four feet sal she gang.

18
'Nane sall tack pitty her upon,
But in Wormie's Wood she sall ay won,
An relieved sall she never be,
Till St Mungo come oer the sea.'

* * * * *

#A.#

_Buchan gives 4-6 in two six-line stanzas. There are a few
trivial diversities between Motherwell's manuscript, or my
copy of it, and his printed text, which conforms to
Buchan's._

#B. a.#

_Written in long or double lines in the manuscript._

2^2, 4^2. or.

5^3. a besure.

8^4. landy mair

11^4. twice.

16^3. _~wicked~ is inserted before stepmother, seemingly
by Jamieson._

#b.#

_The first stanza, as given by Anderson, Nichols, Literary
Illustrations, VII, 177, is_:

'Come here, come here, ye freely feed,
And lay your head low on my knee;
The heaviest weird I will you read
That ever was read till a lady.'

1^3. heaviest.

1^4. gaye ladye.

2^2. ye'se.

2^4. when ye.

3^1. I weird ye to a fiery beast.

5==#a# 4^{5,6} + #a# 5^{1,2}: #a# 5^{3,4} _omitted:_

And aye she cried for Kempion,
Gin he would but cum to her hand;
Now word has gane to Kempion
That sicken a beast was in his land.

6^4. wi thee.

7 _omits #a#^{3,4}._

7^5. But a mile before.

7^6. Around them she.

8^2. oer near.

8^3. will sure.

8^4. to a' the land and mair.

_After 8 is inserted:_

Syne has he bent an arblast bow,
And aimd an arrow at her head,
And swore if she didna quit the land,
Wi that same shaft to shoot her dead.

9^1. stythe.

9^2. awe o thee.

10^1. dizzy crag.

10^2. gien the monster.

11^1. stythe.

11^2. And not for a' thy bow nor thee.

12^1. Estmere craigs.

13^1. my den.

13^2. Nor flee it for the feir o thee.

13^3. Kempion, that courteous knight.

14^1. lofty craig.

14^4. loveliest lady eer.

15^{1,2}. _After this is inserted:_

They surely had a heart o stane,
Could put thee to such misery.

15^{3-6} _make a separate stanza._

15^3, 16^1. warwolf in the wood.

15^4, 16^2. mermaid in the sea.

15^6. my ain true.

17^1. weird shall light her on.

17^3. Her hair shall grow ... teeth grow.

18^2. In Wormeswood she aye shall won.

18^{5,6}.

And sighing said that weary wight,
I doubt that day I'll never see.

[296] The incident of a woman trying to move a man who all the while is in a deep sleep, and of his servant reporting what has been going on, can hardly have belonged to this ballad from the beginning. It is exceedingly common in popular tales: see 'The Red Bull of Norroway,' in Chambers's Popular Rhymes of Scotland, 3d ed., p. 99; Grimms, 'Das singende springende Löweneckerchen,' No 88, 'Der Eisenhofen,' No 127, and the notes in vol. iii; Leskien u. Brugman, Litanische V. l. u. Märchen, 'Vom weissen Wolf,' No 23, p. 438, and Wollner's note, p. 571.

[297] But not in Mme Villeneuve's or in Mme de Beaumont's 'La Belle et la Bête.'

[298] Lanzelet is cited by J. Grimm; Brandimarte by Walter Scott; Carduino by G. Paris; Espertius by Dunlop; Amadis d'Astra by Valentin Schmidt. Dunlop refers to a similar story in the sixth tale of the Contes Amoureux de Jean Flore, written towards the end of the fifteenth century.

[299] "The Childe of Wane, as a protector of disconsolate damsels, is still remembered by young girls at school in the neighborhood of Bamborough, who apply the title to any boy who protects them from the assaults of their school-fellows." (Kinloch.)

APPENDIX

THE LAIDLEY WORM OF SPINDLESTON HEUGHS.

A View of Northumberland, by W. Hutchinson, Anno 1776,
Newcastle, 1778, II, 162-64. Communicated by the Rev. Mr
Lamb, of Norham.

Kinloch's account of the tradition in relation to the queen, as it maintains itself in Berwickshire, is quite in accord with German _sagen_ about enchanted ladies, innocent or guilty, and as such may be worth giving: Kinloch MSS, I, 187.

"Though the ballad mentions that the queen was transformed into 'a spiteful toad of monstrous size,' and was doomed in that form to wend on the earth until the end of the world, yet the tradition of the country gives another account of the endurance of her enchantment. It is said that in form of a toad as big as a 'clockin hen' she is doomed to expiate her guilt by confinement in a cavern in Bamborough castle, in which she is to remain in her enchanted shape until some one shall have the hardihood to break the spell by penetrating the cavern, whose 'invisible' door only opens every seven years, on Christmas eve. The adventurer, after entering the cavern, must take the sword and horn of the Childe of Wane, which hang on the wall, and having unsheathed and resheathed the sword thrice, and wound three blasts on the horn, he must kiss the toad three times; upon which the enchantment will be dissolved, and the queen will recover her human form.

"Many adventurers, it is said, have attempted to disenchant the queen, but have all failed, having immediately fallen into a trance, something similar to the princes in the Arabian tale who went in search of the Talking Bird, Singing Tree, and Yellow Water. The last one, it is said, who made the attempt was a countryman, about sixty years ago, who, having watched on Christmas eve the opening of the door, entered the cavern, took the sword and horn from the wall, unsheathed and resheathed the sword thrice, blew three blasts on the horn, and was proceeding to the final disenchantment by kissing the toad, which he had saluted twice, when, perceiving the various strange sleepers to arise from the floor, his courage failed, and he fled from the cavern, having just attained the outside of the door when it suddenly shut with a loud clap, catching hold of the skirt of his coat, which was torn off and left in the door.

And none since that time
To enter the cavern presume."

1
The king is gone from Bambrough castle,
Long may the princess mourn;
Long may she stand on the castle wall,
Looking for his return.

2
She has knotted the keys upon a string,
And with her she has them taen,
She has cast them oer her left shoulder,
And to the gate she is gane.

3
She tripped out, she tripped in,
She tript into the yard;
But it was more for the king's sake,
Than for the queen's regard.

4
It fell out on a day the king
Brought the queen with him home,
And all the lords in our country
To welcome them did come.

5
'O welcome, father,' the lady cries,
'Unto your halls and bowers;
And so are you, my stepmother,
For all that is here is yours.'