Chapter XXXIII: Part 33

17
'Death is greener than the gress, heaven higher than thae trees;
The devil's waur than women's wish, hell's deeper than the seas;
The cock craws first, the cedar buds first, dew first on them does fa;
Sae we'll baith lie in ae bed, and ye'se lie at the wa.'

18
Little did this lady think, that morning whan she raise,
That this was for to be the last o a' her maiden days.
But there's na into the king's realm to be found a blither twa,
And now she's Mrs. Wedderburn, and she lies at the wa.

C

Sheldon's Minstrelsy of the English Border, p. 232, as
recited "by a lady of Berwick on Tweed, who used to sing
it in her childhood, and had learnt it from her nurse."

1
The laird of Roslin's daughter walked thro the wood her lane,
And by came Captain Wedderburn, a servant to the Queen;
He said unto his serving man, Wer 't not agaynst the law,
I would tak her to my ain house as lady o my ha.

2
He said, My pretty ladye, I pray give me your hand;
You shall have drums and trumpets always at your command;
With fifty men to guard you, that well their swords can draw,
And I'll tak ye to my ain bed, and lay you next the wa.

3
'I'm walking in my feyther's shaws:' quo he, My charming maid,
I am much better than I look, so be you not afraid;
For I serve the queen of a' Scotland, and a gentil dame is she;
So we'se be married ere the morn, gin ye can fancy me.

4
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
'The sparrow shall toot on his horn, gif naething us befa,
And I'll mak you up a down-bed, and lay you next the wa.

5
'Now hold away from me, kind sir, I pray you let me be;
I wont be lady of your ha till you answer questions three:
Questions three you must answer me, and that is one and twa,
Before I gae to Woodland's house, and be lady o your ha.

6
'You must get me to my supper a chicken without a bone;
You must get me to my supper a cherry without a stone;
You must get me to my supper a bird without a ga,
Before I go to Woodland's house and be lady of your ha.'

7
'When the cherry is in the bloom, I'm sure it has no stone;
When the chicken's in the shell, I'm sure it has nae bone;
The dove she is a gentil bird, and flies without a ga;
So I've answered you your questions three, and you're lady of my ha.'

* * * * * * *

8
'Questions three you must answer me: What's higher than the trees?
And what is worse than woman's voice? What's deeper than the seas?'
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .

9
He answered then so readily: Heaven's higher than the trees;
The devil's worse than woman's voice; hell's deeper than the seas;
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .

10
'One question still you must answer me, or you I laugh to scorn;
Go seek me out an English priest, of woman never born;'
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .

11
'Oh then,' quo he, 'my young brother from mother's side was torn,
And he's a gentil English priest, of woman never born;'
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .

12
Little did his lady think, that morning when she raise,
It was to be the very last of all her mayden days;
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .

* * * * *

#A. a.#

2^4. I lye.

4^{3,4} _and 5^{3,4} have been interchanged_.

5^4. lye you.

#b.# lay.

7^1. teen.

17^1. priest was.

17^2. it was.

17^3. boned (?)

_#b# has ~bored~._

_#b# is a copy of #a#, but with the long lines broken up
into two, and some slight variations._

#b.#

3^4. And we'll.

5^1. _Omits_ if.

6^3. _Omits_ sae jimp.

11^2. and they are questions.

12^2. wish.

13^4. betwixt.

#B.#

_In stanzas of four short lines._

#a.#

16^2, 17^2. _Var._ women's vice.

17^1. _Var._ Poison is greener.

17^2. _Var._ There's nathing waur.

#b.#

Lord Roslin's Daughter's Garland. Containing three
excellent new songs.

I. The Drunkard Reformed.
II. The Devil and the Grinder.
III. Lord Roslin's Daughter.

Licensed and entered according to order.

1^1, walks throw.

1^2. And by came.

1^3, servant man.

1^4, 3^4, 6^4, 7^4, 10^4, 14^4, 18^4. next the wa.

17^4. neist.

2^3, 4^3. missd you know.

3^4. And we'll ... and thou's ly next.

4^2. will I.

4^4. So I not.

5^{1,2}.
Then said the pretty lady, I pray tell me your name.
My name is Captain Wedderburn, a servant to the king.

5^3. of him I'd not stand in aw.

6^1. He lighted off.

6^2. And held her by the milk-white hand even as they rode
along.

6^3. so jimp.

6^4. So I'll take.

7^1. lodging house.

7^3. But such a pretty face as thine in it I never saw.

7^4. make her up a down-bed.

8^2. will not go to your bed till you dress me.

8^3. three you must do to me.

9^1. O I must have ... a cherry without a stone.

9^2. a chicken without a bone.

10^{1,2}.
When the cherry is into the bloom I am sure it hath no stone,
And when the chicken's in the shell I'm sure it hath no bone.

10^3. it is a gentle.

11^2. I will not go till ... till you answer me questions.

11^3. Questions four you must tell me.

12^1. You must get to me.

12^2. That the wraft was neer ca'd.

12^{3,4} _and 16^{3,4} (and consequently 13^{3,4},
17^{3,4}) are wrongly interchanged in #b#, mixing up
ferlies and questions._

#a# 12^{3,4}, 13^{3,4}, 14, 15, 16^{1,2}, 16^{3,4},
17^{1,2}, 17^{3,4}==#b# 15^{3,4}, 16^{3,4}, 17, 14,
15^{1,2}, 12^{3,4}, 16^{1,2}, 13^{3,4}.

13^2. the wraft was neer ca'd throw.

13^{3,4}. A sparrow's horn you well may get, there's one
on ilka pa.

14^1. standing at the door.

14^3. A hole cut in his mother's side, he from the same
did fa.

16^2. And what ... women's voice.

16^3. What bird sings best, and wood buds first, that dew
does on them fa.

17^1. sky is higher.

17^2. worse than women's voice.

17^3. the dew does on them fa.

18^2. the last night.

18^3. now they both lie in one bed.

_#c# closely resembling #b#, the variations from #b# are
given._

#c.#

1. came _omitted_, _v._ 2; unto, _v._ 3.

2. into your bed, _v._ 4.

3. guard you ... who well, _v._ 3; into ... thou'lt, _v._
4.

5^{1,2}. Then says, _v._ 1.

6. lighted from ... this lady, _v._ 1; middle jimp, _v._
3.

7. pretty fair, _v._ 2; as this, _v._ 3.

8. dress me, _v._ 3.

9. unto, _vv_ 1,2; O I must, _v._ 2.

10. in the bloom, _v._ 1; we both shall ly in, _v._ 4.

11. will give oer, _v._ 1; to your ... you tell me, _v._
2.

12. You must get to me ... that waft, _v._ 2; bird sings
first ... on them does, _v._ 3.

13. sings first, _v._ 3.

14. in your ... you tell me, _v._ 2; I'll ly in, _v._ 4.

15. What is ... woman's, _v._ 2; I'll ly in, _v._ 4.

16.

Death's greener than the grass, hell's deeper than the seas,
The devil's worse than woman's voice, sky's higher than the
trees, _vv_ 1,2; every paw, _v._ 3; thou shalt, _v._ 4.

18. the lady ... rose, _v._ 1; It was to be the very last,
_v._ 2; they ly in ae, _v._ 4.

#d.#

_Follows the broadside (#b#, #c#) through the first nine
stanzas, with changes from Jamieson's "~own
recollection,~" or invention, and one from #A#. 10 has
certainly arbitrary alterations. The remaining eight
stanzas are the corresponding ones of #A# treated freely.
The comparison here is with #b#, readings from #A# in
11-18 not being noticed._

1^3, serving men.

2^3. _~mist awa~, from #A#; so in 4^3, a stanza not in
#A#._

5^3. I'd have nae awe.

6^1. He lighted aff ... this lady.

6^3. middle jimp.

6^4. To tak her to his ain.

7^3. sic a lovely face as thine.

7^4. Gae mak her down.

8^3. maun dress to me.

9^1. It's ye maun get.

9^{2,3}. And ye maun get.

10^1. It's whan the cherry is in the flirry.

10^2. in the egg.

10^3. And sin the flood o Noah the dow she had nae ga.

#A, B d#, 11, 12^{1,2}, 13^{1,2}, 14, 15^{1,2},
16^{1,2}==#B b, c#, 14, 15^{1,2}, 16^{1,2}, 11, 12^{1,2},
13^{1,2}.

11^1. and gie your fleechin oer.

11^2. Unless you'll find me ferlies, and that is ferlies
four.

11^3. Ferlies four ye maun find me.

11^4. Or I'll never lie.

12^2. And get to me.

12^3. doth first down.

12^4. Ye sall tell afore I lay me down between you and the
wa.

13^2. has an Indian gown that waft.

13^3. on cedar top the dew.

14^2. that gait me perplex.

14^3. three times twa.

15^1. the greenest grass.

15^2. war nor an ill woman's wish.

16^3. horn is quickly found ... on every claw.

16^4. There's ane upon the neb of him.

17^3. A wild bore tore his mither's side.

18^3. now there's nae within the realm, I think.

#e#

_has stanzas 1, 5 (?), 9, 12, 10, 13, 14 of #a#, the first
two imperfect. The last line of each stanza is changed, no
doubt for delicacy's sake, to ~I will tak you wi me, I
tell you, aye or na~, or the like_.

1.
The Earl o Roslin's dochter gaed out to tak the air;
She met a gallant gentleman, as hame she did repair;
. . . . . . .
I will tak you wi me, I tell you, aye or no.

5(?).
I am Captain Wedderburn, a servant to the king.
. . . . . . .
I will tak you wi me, I tell you, aye or no.

9^1. I maun hae to my supper a bird without a bone.

9^3. An I maun hae a gentle bird that flies.

9^4. Before that I gae with you, I tell you, aye or na.

10^1. When the bird is in the egg.

10^2. in the bud ... I'm sure.

10^3. it is a gentle bird.

12^2, 13^2. a gey mantle ... neer ca'ed.

13^3. sune sall get.

14^1. is standing at.

14^2. say that he was ... a sin.

#f.#

_Stanzas 9, 10 only._

9^1. 'T is I maun hae to my supper a bird without a bone.

9^2. withouten stone.

9^3. withouten ga.

10^1. When the bird is in the shell, I'm sure.

10^2. I'm sure.

10^3. a gentle ... withouten ga.

#C.#

_Printed in stanzas of four short lines._

[389] This book has been pursued by me for years, with the coöperation of many friends and agents, but in vain.

[390] Followed by Virgil's riddle, Ecl. iii, 104-5, Where is the sky but three spans broad?

[391] Halliwell's Popular Rhymes and Nursery Tales, p. 150; Halliwell's Nursery Rhymes, No 375; Notes and Queries, 3d Ser., IX, 401; 4th Ser., III, 501, 604; Macmillan's Magazine, V, 248, by T. Hughes. The first of these runs:

I have four sisters beyond the sea,
Para-mara, dictum, domine
And they did send four presents to me.
Partum, quartum, paradise, tempum,
Para-mara, dictum, domine

The first it was a bird without eer a bone,
The second was a cherry without eer a stone.

The third it was a blanket without eer a thread,
The fourth it was a book which no man could read.

How can there be a bird without eer a bone?
How can there be a cherry without eer a stone?

How can there be a blanket without eer a thread?
How can there be a book which no man can read?

When the bird's in the shell, there is no bone;
When the cherry's in the bud, there is no stone.

When the blanket's in the fleece, there is no thread;
When the book's in the press, no man can read.

The Minnesinger dames went far beyond our laird's daughter in the way of requiring "ferlies" from their lovers. Der Tanhuser and Boppe represent that their ladies would be satisfied with nothing short of their turning the course of rivers; bringing them the salamander, the basilisk, the graal, Paris's apple; giving them a sight of Enoch and Elijah in the body, a hearing of the sirens, etc. Von der Hagen, Minnesinger, II, 91 f, 385 f.

[392] There were, no doubt, Grissels enough in the very distinguished family of the Sinclairs of Roslin to furnish one for this ballad. I see two mentioned among the Sinclairs of Herdmanstoun. Even a Wedderburn connection, as I am informed, is not absolutely lacking. George Home of Wedderburn († 1497), married the eldest daughter of John Sinclair of Herdmanstoun: Douglas's Peerage of Scotland, ed. Wood, 1813, II, 174.

[393] The difficulty here is the want of a _που στω_, from which to climb the tree.

[394] These number-riddles or songs are known to every nation of Europe. E. g., Chambers' Popular Rhymes of Scotland, p. 44, ed. 1870, from Buchan's MSS, I, 280:

O what will be our ane, boys?
O what will be our ane, boys?
My only ane, she walks alane,
And evermair has dune, boys, etc.

See Köhler in Orient u. Occident, II, 558-9. A dragon, in Hahn's Griechische u. Albanesische Märchen, II, 210, gives Penteklimas ten of these number-riddles: if he answers them he is to have a fine castle; if not, he is to be eaten. An old woman answers for him: "One is God, two are the righteous, etc.; ten is your own word, and now burst, dragon!" The dragon bursts, and Penteklimas inherits his possessions.

[395] Gozzi retains the first and third riddles, Schiller only the third. By a happy idea, new riddles were introduced at the successive performances of Schiller's play. Turandot appears as a traditional tale in Schneller's Märchen u. Sagen aus Wälschtirol, No 49, p. 132, "I tre Indovinelli."

[396] The castle with walls and gate thus equipped, or a palisade of stakes each crowned with a head, is all but a commonplace in such adventures. This grim stroke of fancy is best in 'La mule sanz frain,' where there are four hundred stakes, _all but one_ surmounted with a bloody head: Méon, Nouveau Recueil, 1, 15, vv 429-37. For these parlous princesses, of all sorts, see Grundtvig, 'Den farlige Jomfru,' IV, 43 ff, No 184.

[397] Von Hammer, Geschichte der schönen Redekünste Persiens, p. 116, previously cited by von der Hagen, Gesammtabenteuer, III, lxii.

[398] The German schwank affixes the forfeit of the head to failure. In the Norwegian the unsuccessful brothers get off with a thrashing. The fire in the English, found also in the German, recalls the third task in the Gesta Romanorum.

[399] Khudyakof, in the Ethnographical Collection of the Russian Geographical Society, Etnografitcheskiy Sbornik, etc., VI, 9, 10, 8. Ralston, The Songs of the Russian People, p. 353.

[400] Vigfusson objects to Thor being the interlocutor, though that is the name in the MS., because cunning does not suit Thor's blunt character, and proposes Odin instead. "May be the dwarf first met Thor (Wingthor), whereupon Woden (Wingi) came up." Corpus Poeticum Boreale, I, 81.

47

PROUD LADY MARGARET

#A.# 'Proud Lady Margaret,' Scott's Minstrelsy, III, 275,
ed. 1803.

#B. a.# 'The Courteous Knight,' Buchan's Ballads of the
North of Scotland, I, 91; Motherwell's MS., p. 591. #b.#
Motherwell's Minstrelsy, Introduction, p. lxxxi.

#C.# 'The Jolly Hind Squire,' Buchan's MSS, II, 95.

#D.# 'The Knicht o Archerdale,' Harris MS., fol. 7, No 3.

#E.# 'Fair Margret,' A. Laing, Ancient Ballads and Songs,
MS., 1829, p. 6.

#A# was communicated to Scott "by Mr Hamilton, music-seller, Edinburgh, with whose mother it had been a favorite." Two stanzas and one line were wanting, and were supplied by Scott "from a different ballad, having a plot somewhat similar." The stanzas were 6 and 9. #C# was printed from the MS., with a few changes, under the title of 'The Bonny Hind Squire,' by Dixon, in Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads, p. 42, and from Dixon in Bell's Early Ballads, p. 183. Christie, Traditional Ballad Airs, I, 28, says the ballad was called 'Jolly Janet' by the old people in Aberdeenshire.

#A-D# are plainly compounded of two ballads, the conclusion being derived from #E#. The lady's looking oer her castle wa, her putting riddles, and her having gard so mony die, make the supposition far from incredible that the Proud Lady Margaret of the first part of the ballad may originally have been one of the cruel princesses spoken of in the preface to 'Captain Wedderburn's Courtship,' p. 417. But the corrupt condition of the texts of #A-D# forbids any confident opinion.

A dead mistress similarly admonishes her lover, in a ballad from Brittany, given in Ampère, Instructions relatives aux Poésies populaires de la France, p. 36.

"Non, je ne dors ni ne soumeille,
Je sis dans l'enfer à brûler.

"Auprès de moi reste une place,
C'est pour vous, Piar', qu'on l'a gardée."

"Ha! dites-moi plustot, ma Jeanne,
Comment fair' pour n'y point aller?"

"Il faut aller à la grand-messe,
Et aux vêpres, sans y manquer.

"Faut point aller aux fileries,
Comm' vous aviez d'accoutumé.

"Ne faut point embrasser les filles
Sur l' bout du coffre au pied du lect."

So Beaurepaire, Étude, p. 53; Puymaigre, 'La Damnée,' Chants populaires, I, 115; V. Smith, Chants du Velay et du Forez, Romania, IV, 449 f, 'La Concubine;' and Luzel, "Celui qui alla voir sa maitresse en enfer," I, 44, 45. In this last, a lover, whose mistress has died, goes into a monastery, where he prays continually that he may see her again. The devil presents himself in the likeness of a young man, and on condition of being something gently considered takes him to hell. He sees his mistress sitting in a fiery chair (cf. #B#, 30, 31), devoured by serpents night and day, and is informed that fasts and masses on his part will only make things worse. Like Dives, she sends word to her sister not to do as she has done. Some of these traits are found also in one or another of the French versions.

* * * * *

Translated by Doenniges, p. 6, after Scott, and by Knortz, Schottische Balladen, No 1, after Aytoun, II, 62.

A

Scott's Minstrelsy, III, 275, ed. 1803. Communicated "by
Mr Hamilton, music-seller, Edinburgh, with whose mother it
had been a favorite."

1
'T was on a night, an evening bright,
When the dew began to fa,
Lady Margaret was walking up and down,
Looking oer her castle wa.

2
She looked east and she looked west,
To see what she could spy,
When a gallant knight came in her sight,
And to the gate drew nigh.

3
'You seem to be no gentleman,
You wear your boots so wide;
But you seem to be some cunning hunter,
You wear the horn so syde.'

4
'I am no cunning hunter,' he said,
'Nor neer intend to be;
But I am come to this castle
To seek the love of thee.
And if you do not grant me love,
This night for thee I'll die.'

5
'If you should die for me, sir knight,
There's few for you will meane;
For mony a better has died for me,
Whose graves are growing green.

6
['But ye maun read my riddle,' she said,
'And answer my questions three;
And but ye read them right,' she said,
'Gae stretch ye out and die.]

7
'Now what is the flower, the ae first flower,
Springs either on moor or dale?
And what is the bird, the bonnie bonnie bird,
Sings on the evening gale?'

8
'The primrose is the ae first flower
Springs either on moor or dale,
And the thristlecock is the bonniest bird
Sings on the evening gale.'

9
['But what's the little coin,' she said,
'Wald buy my castle bound?
And what's the little boat,' she said,
'Can sail the world all round?']

10
'O hey, how mony small pennies
Make thrice three thousand pound?
Or hey, how mony salt fishes
Swim a' the salt sea round?'

11
'I think you maun be my match,' she said,
'My match and something mair;
You are the first eer got the grant
Of love frae my father's heir.

12
'My father was lord of nine castles,
My mother lady of three;
My father was lord of nine castles,
And there's nane to heir but me.

13
'And round about a' thae castles
You may baith plow and saw,
And on the fifteenth day of May
The meadows they will maw.'

14
'O hald your tongue, Lady Margaret,' he said,
'For loud I hear you lie;
Your father was lord of nine castles,
Your mother was lady of three;
Your father was lord of nine castles,
But ye fa heir to but three.

15
'And round about a' thae castles
You may baith plow and saw,
But on the fifteenth day of May
The meadows will not maw.

16
'I am your brother Willie,' he said,
'I trow ye ken na me;
I came to humble your haughty heart,
Has gard sae mony die.'

17
'If ye be my brother Willie,' she said,
'As I trow weel ye be,
This night I'll neither eat nor drink,
But gae alang wi thee.'

18
'O hold your tongue, Lady Margaret,' he said,
'Again I hear you lie;
For ye've unwashen hands and ye've unwashen feet,
To gae to clay wi me.

19
'For the wee worms are my bedfellows,
And cauld clay is my sheets,
And when the stormy winds do blow,
My body lies and sleeps.'

B

#a.# Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, 1, 91;
Motherwell's MS., p. 591. #b.# Motherwell's Minstrelsy,
Introduction, p. lxxxi.

1
There was a knight, in a summer's night,
Appeard in a lady's hall,
As she was walking up and down,
Looking oer her castle wall.

2
'God make you safe and free, fair maid,
God make you safe and free!'
'O sae fa you, ye courteous knight,
What are your wills wi me?'

3
'My wills wi you are not sma, lady,
My wills wi you nae sma,
And since there's nane your bower within,
Ye'se hae my secrets a'.

4
'For here am I a courtier,
A courtier come to thee,
And if ye winna grant your love,
All for your sake I'll dee.'

5
'If that ye dee for me, sir knight,
Few for you will make meen;
For mony gude lord's done the same,
Their graves are growing green.'

6
'O winna ye pity me, fair maid,
O winna ye pity me?
O winna ye pity a courteous knight,
Whose love is laid on thee?'

7
'Ye say ye are a courteous knight,
But I think ye are nane;
I think ye're but a millar bred,
By the colour o your claithing.

8
'You seem to be some false young man,
You wear your hat sae wide;
You seem to be some false young man,
You wear your boots sae side.'

9
'Indeed I am a courteous knight,
And of great pedigree;
Nae knight did mair for a lady bright
Than I will do for thee.

10
'O I'll put smiths in your smithy,
To shoe for you a steed,
And I'll put tailors in your bower,
To make for you a weed.

11
'I will put cooks in your kitchen,
And butlers in your ha,
And on the tap o your father's castle
I'll big gude corn and saw.'

12
'If ye be a courteous knight,
As I trust not ye be,
Ye'll answer some o the sma questions
That I will ask at thee.

13
'What is the fairest flower, tell me,
That grows in mire or dale?
Likewise, which is the sweetest bird
Sings next the nightingale?
Or what's the finest thing,' she says,
'That king or queen can wile?'

14
'The primrose is the fairest flower
That grows in mire or dale;
The mavis is the sweetest bird
Next to the nightingale;
And yellow gowd's the finest thing
That king or queen can wale.

15
'Ye hae asked many questions, lady,
I've you as many told;'
'But how many pennies round
Make a hundred pounds in gold?

16
'How many of the small fishes
Do swim the salt seas round?
Or what's the seemliest sight you'll see
Into a May morning?'

* * * * * * *

17
'Berry-brown ale and a birken speal,
And wine in a horn green;
A milk-white lace in a fair maid's dress
Looks gay in a May morning.'

18
'Mony's the questions I've askd at thee,
And ye've answerd them a';
Ye are mine, and I am thine,
Amo the sheets sae sma.

19
'You may be my match, kind sir,
You may be my match and more;
There neer was ane came sic a length
Wi my father's heir before.

20
'My father's lord o nine castles,
My mother she's lady ower three,
And there is nane to heir them all,
No never a ane but me;
Unless it be Willie, my ae brother,
But he's far ayont the sea.'

21
'If your father's laird o nine castles,
Your mother lady ower three,
I am Willie your ae brother,
Was far beyond the sea.'

22
'If ye be Willie, my ae brother,
As I doubt sair ye be,
But if it's true ye tell me now,
This night I'll gang wi thee.'

23
'Ye've ower ill washen feet, Janet,
And ower ill washen hands,
And ower coarse robes on your body,
Alang wi me to gang.

24
'The worms they are my bed-fellows,
And the cauld clay my sheet,
And the higher that the wind does blaw,
The sounder I do sleep.

25
'My body's buried in Dumfermline,
And far beyond the sea,
But day nor night nae rest coud get,
All for the pride o thee.

26
'Leave aff your pride, jelly Janet,' he says,
'Use it not ony mair;
Or when ye come where I hae been
You will repent it sair.

27
'Cast aff, cast aff, sister,' he says,
'The gowd lace frae your crown;
For if ye gang where I hae been,
Ye'll wear it laigher down.

28
'When ye're in the gude church set,
The gowd pins in your hair,
Ye take mair delight in your feckless dress
Than ye do in your morning prayer.

29
'And when ye walk in the church-yard,
And in your dress are seen,
There is nae lady that sees your face
But wishes your grave were green.

30
'You're straight and tall, handsome withall,
But your pride owergoes your wit,
But if ye do not your ways refrain,
In Pirie's chair ye'll sit.

31
'In Pirie's chair you'll sit, I say,
The lowest seat o hell;
If ye do not amend your ways,
It's there that ye must dwell.'

32
Wi that he vanishd frae her sight,
Wi the twinkling o an eye;
Naething mair the lady saw
But the gloomy clouds and sky.

C

Buchan's MSS, II, 95.

1
Once there was a jolly hind squire
Appeard in a lady's ha,
And aye she walked up and down,
Looking oer her castle wa.

2
'What is your wills wi me, kind sir?
What is your wills wi me?'
'My wills are [not] sma wi thee, lady,
My wills are [not] sma wi thee.

3
'For here I stand a courtier,
And a courtier come to thee,
And if ye will not grant me your love,
For your sake I will die.'

4
'If you die for my sake,' she says,
'Few for you will make moan;
Many better's died for my sake,
Their graves are growing green.

5
'You appear to be some false young man,
You wear your hat so wide;
You appear to be some false young man,
You wear your boots so side.

6
'An asking, asking, sir,' she said,
'An asking ye'll grant me:'
'Ask on, ask on, lady,' he said,
'What may your asking be?'

7
'What's the first thing in flower,' she said,
'That springs in mire or dale?
What's the next bird that sings,' she says,
'Unto the nightingale?
Or what is the finest thing,' she says,
'That king or queen can wile?'

8
'The primrose is the first in flower
That springs in mire or dale;
The thristle-throat is the next that sings
Unto the nightingale;
And yellow gold is the finest thing
That king or queen can wile.

9
'You have asked many questions, lady,
I've you as many told;'
'But how many pennies round
Make a hundred pounds in gold?

10
'How many small fishes
Do swim the salt seas round?
Or what's the seemliest sight you'll see
Into a May morning?

* * * * * * *

11
'There's ale into the birken scale,
Wine in the horn green;
There's gold in the king's banner
When he is fighting keen.'

12
'You may be my match, kind sir,' she said,
'You may be my match and more;
There neer was one came such a length
With my father's heir before.

13
'My father's lord of nine castles,
No body heir but me.'
'Your father's lord of nine castles,
Your mother's lady of three;

14
'Your father's heir of nine castles,
And you are heir to three;
For I am William, thy ae brother,
That died beyond the sea.'

15
'If ye be William, my ae brother,
This night, O well is me!
If ye be William, my ae brother,
This night I'll go with thee.'

16
'For no, for no, jelly Janet,' he says,
'For no, that cannot be;
You've oer foul feet and ill washen hands
To be in my company.

17
'For the wee wee worms are my bedfellows,
And the cold clay is my sheet,
And the higher that the winds do blow,
The sounder I do sleep.

18
'Leave off your pride, jelly Janet,' he says,
'Use it not any more;
Or when you come where I have been
You will repent it sore.

19
'When you go in at yon church door,
The red gold on your hair,
More will look at your yellow locks
Than look on the Lord's prayer.

20
'When you go in at yon church door,
The red gold on your crown;
When you come where I have been,
You'll wear it laigher down.'

21
The jolly hind squire, he went away
In the twinkling of an eye,
Left the lady sorrowful behind,
With many bitter cry.

D

Harris's MS., fol. 7, No 3. From Mrs Harris's recitation.

1
There cam a knicht to Archerdale,
His steed was winder sma,
An there he spied a lady bricht,
Luikin owre her castle wa.

2
'Ye dinna seem a gentle knicht,
Though on horseback ye do ride;
Ye seem to be some sutor's son,
Your butes they are sae wide.'

3
'Ye dinna seem a lady gay,
Though ye be bound wi pride;
Else I'd gane bye your father's gate
But either taunt or gibe.'

4
He turned aboot his hie horse head,
An awa he was boun to ride,
But neatly wi her mouth she spak:
Oh bide, fine squire, oh bide.

5
'Bide, oh bide, ye hindy squire,
Tell me mair o your tale;
Tell me some o that wondrous lied
Ye've learnt in Archerdale.

6
'What gaes in a speal?' she said,
'What in a horn green?
An what gaes on a lady's head,
Whan it is washen clean?'

7
'Ale gaes in a speal,' he said,
'Wine in a horn green;
An silk gaes on a lady's head,
Whan it is washen clean.'

8
Aboot he turned his hie horse head,
An awa he was boun to ride,
When neatly wi her mouth she spak:
Oh bide, fine squire, oh bide.

9
'Bide, oh bide, ye hindy squire,
Tell me mair o your tale;
Tell me some o that unco lied
You've learnt in Archerdale.

10
'Ye are as like my ae brither
As ever I did see;
But he's been buried in yon kirkyaird
It's mair than years is three.'

11
'I am as like your ae brither
As ever ye did see;
But I canna get peace into my grave,
A' for the pride o thee.

12
'Leave pride, Janet, leave pride, Janet,
Leave pride an vanitie;
If ye come the roads that I hae come,
Sair warned will ye be.

13
'Ye come in by yonder kirk
Wi the goud preens in your sleeve;
When you're bracht hame to yon kirkyaird,
You'll gie them a' thier leave.

14
'Ye come in to yonder kirk
Wi the goud plaits in your hair;
When you're bracht hame to yon kirkyaird,
You will them a' forbear.'

15
He got her in her mither's bour,
Puttin goud plaits in her hair;
He left her in her father's gairden,
Mournin her sins sae sair.

E

Alex. Laing, Ancient Ballads and Songs, etc., etc., from
the recitation of old people. Never published. 1829. P. 6.

1
Fair Margret was a young ladye,
An come of high degree;
Fair Margret was a young ladye,
An proud as proud coud be.

2
Fair Margret was a rich ladye,
The king's cousin was she;
Fair Margaret was a rich ladye,
An vain as vain coud be.

3
She war'd her wealth on the gay cleedin
That comes frae yont the sea,
She spent her time frae morning till night
Adorning her fair bodye.

4
Ae night she sate in her stately ha,
Kaimin her yellow hair,
When in there cum like a gentle knight,
An a white scarf he did wear.

5
'O what's your will wi me, sir knight,
O what's your will wi me?
You're the likest to my ae brother
That ever I did see.

6
'You're the likest to my ae brother
That ever I hae seen,
But he's buried in Dunfermline kirk,
A month an mair bygane.'

7
'I'm the likest to your ae brother
That ever ye did see,
But I canna get rest into my grave,
A' for the pride of thee.

8
'Leave pride, Margret, leave pride, Margret,
Leave pride an vanity;
Ere ye see the sights that I hae seen,
Sair altered ye maun be.

9
'O ye come in at the kirk-door
Wi the gowd plaits in your hair;
But wud ye see what I hae seen,
Ye maun them a' forbear.

10
'O ye come in at the kirk-door
Wi the gowd prins i your sleeve;
But wad ye see what I hae seen,
Ye maun gie them a' their leave.

11
'Leave pride, Margret, leave pride, Margret,
Leave pride an vanity;
Ere ye see the sights that I hae seen,
Sair altered ye maun be.'

12
He got her in her stately ha,
Kaimin her yellow hair,
He left her on her sick sick bed,
Sheding the saut saut tear.

* * * * *

#B#

_15^{3,4}, 16^{1,2}, #C# 9^{3,4}, 10^{1,2} are rightly
answers, not questions: cf. #A# 9, 10. #D# 6 furnishes the
question answered in #B# 17._

#B. b.#

_Motherwell begins at st. 25._

27^2. gowd band.

28^1, 29^1. kirk.

30^2. owergangs.

32^2. In the.

32^3. And naething.

#C.#

_~Kind Squire~ in the title, and ~kind~ in 1^1, 21^1; I
suppose by mistake of my copyist._

16^3. You're (?).

17^2. the clay cold.

#E.#

8^3, 11^3. E'er.

48

YOUNG ANDREW

Percy MS., p. 292. Hales and Furnivall, II, 328.

'Young Andrew' is known only from the Percy manuscript. The story recalls both 'Lady Isabel and the Elf-Knight,' No 4, and 'The Fair Flower of Northumberland,' No 9. The lady, Helen, 25^3, is bidden to take, and does take, gold with her in stanzas 5-7, as in No 4, English #E# 2, 3, #D# 7, Danish #A# 12, #E# 7, 9, #I# 5, #L# 5, 6, and nearly all the Polish copies, and again in No 9, #A# 14. She is stripped of her clothes and head-gear in 8-17, as in No 4, English #C-E#, German #G#, #H#, and many of the Polish versions. These are destined by Young Andrew for his lady ("that dwells so far in a strange country") in 10, 12, 14, as by Ulinger for his sister, and by Adelger for his mother, in German #G# 18, #H# 15. In 15 the lady entreats Young Andrew to leave her her smock; so in No 4, Polish #L# 8, "You brought me from home in a green gown; take me back in a shift of tow," and #R# 13, "You took me away in red satin; let me go back at least in a smock." 18 has the choice between dying and going home again which is presented in 'Lady Isabel,' Polish #AA# 4, #H# 10, #R# 11, and implied in 'The Fair Flower of Northumberland,' #D# 2-5; in #A# 25 of this last the choice is between dying and being a paramour. In 20, 21, the lady says, "If my father ever catches you, you're sure to flower a gallows-tree," etc.; in No 4, Polish #J# 5, "If God would grant me to reach the other bank, you know, wretch, what death you would die." The father is unrelenting in this ballad, v. 26, and receives his daughter with severity in 'The Fair Flower of Northumberland,' #B# 13, #C# 13. The conclusion of 'Young Andrew' is mutilated and hard to make out. He seems to have been pursued and caught, as John is in the Polish ballads, #O#, #P#, #T#, etc., of No 4. Why he was not promptly disposed of, and how the wolf comes into the story, will probably never be known.

1
As I was cast in my ffirst sleepe,
A dreadffull draught in my mind I drew,
Ffor I was dreamed of a yong man,
Some men called him yonge Andrew.

2
The moone shone bright, and itt cast a ffayre light,
Sayes shee, Welcome, my honey, my hart, and my sweete!
For I haue loued thee this seuen long yeere,
And our chance itt was wee cold neuer meete.

3
Then he tooke her in his armes two,
And kissed her both cheeke and chin,
And twise or thrise he pleased this may
Before they tow did p_ar_t in twinn.

4
Saies, Now, good s_i_r, you haue had yo_u_r will,
You can demand no more of mee;
Good s_i_r, remember what you said before,
And goe to the church and marry mee.

5
'Ffaire maid, I cannott doe as I wold;
. . . . . . .
Goe home and fett thy fathers redd gold,
And I'le goe to the church and marry thee.

6
This ladye is gone to her ffathers hall,
And well she knew where his red gold lay,
And counted fforth five hundred pound,
Besides all other iuells and chaines:

7
And brought itt all to younge Andrew,
Itt was well counted vpon his knee;
Then he tooke her by the lillye white hand,
And led her vp to an hill soe hye.

8
Shee had vpon a gowne of blacke veluett,
(A pittyffull sight after yee shall see:)
'Put of thy clothes, bonny wenche,' he sayes,
'For noe ffoote further thoust gang w_i_th mee.'

9
But then shee put of her gowne of veluett,
W_i_th many a salt teare from her eye,
And in a kirtle of ffine breaden silke
Shee stood beffore young Andrews eye.

10
Sais, O put off thy kirtle of silke,
Ffor some and all shall goe with mee;
And to my owne lady I must itt beare,
Who I must needs loue better then thee.

11
Then shee put of her kirtle of silke,
W_i_th many a salt teare still ffrom her eye;
In a peticoate of scarlett redd
Shee stood before young Andrewes eye.

12
Saies, O put of thy peticoate,
For some and all of itt shall goe w_i_th mee;
And to my owne lady I will itt beare,
W_hi_ch dwells soe ffarr in a strange countrye.

13
But then shee put of her peticoate,
W_i_th many a salt teare still from her eye,
And in a smocke of braue white silke
Shee stood before young Andrews eye.

14
Saies, O put of thy smocke of silke,
For some and all shall goe w_i_th mee;
Vnto my owne ladye I will itt beare,
_Tha_t dwells soe ffarr in a strange countrye.

15
Sayes, O remember, young Andrew,
Once of a woman you were borne;
And ffor _tha_t birth _tha_t Marye bore,
I pray you let my smocke be vpon!

16
'Yes, ffayre ladye, I know itt well,
Once of a woman I was borne;
Yett ffor noe birth _tha_t Mary bore,
Thy smocke shall not be left here vpon.'

17
But then shee put of her head-geere ffine;
Shee hadd billaments worth a hundred pound;
The hayre _tha_t was vpon this bony wench head
Couered her bodye downe to the ground.

18
Then he pulled forth a Scottish brand,
And held itt there in his owne right hand;
Saies, Whether wilt thou dye vpon my swords point, ladye,
Or thow wilt goe naked home againe?

19
'Liffe is sweet,' then, 's_i_r,' said shee,
'Therfore I pray you leaue mee w_i_th mine;
Before I wold dye on yo_u_r swords point,
I had rather goe naked home againe.

20
'My ffather,' shee sayes, 'is a right good erle
As any remaines in his countrye;
If euer he doe yo_u_r body take,
Yo_u_'r sure to fflower a gallow tree.

21
'And I haue seuen brethren,' shee sayes,
'And they are all hardy men and bold;
Giff euer thé doe yo_u_r body take,
You must neuer gang quicke ou_er_ the mold.'

22
'If yo_u_r ffather be a right good erle
As any remaines in his owne countrye,
Tush! he shall neuer my body take,
I'le gang soe ffast ouer the sea.

23
'If you haue seuen brethren,' he sayes,
'If they be neu_er_ soe hardy or bold,
Tush! they shall neu_er_ my body take,
I'le gang soe ffast into the Scottish mold.'

24
Now this ladye is gone to her fathers hall,
When euery body their rest did take;
But the Erle w_hi_ch was her ffather
Lay waken for his deere daughters sake.

25
'But who is _tha_t,' her ffather can say,
'_Tha_t soe priuilye knowes the pinn?'
'It's Hellen, yo_u_r owne deere daughter, ffather,
I pray you rise and lett me in.'

26
. . . . . . .
'Noe, by my hood!' q_uo_th her ffather then,
'My [house] thoust neuer come w_i_thin,
W_i_thout I had my red gold againe.'

27
'Nay, yo_u_r gold is gone, ffather!' said shee,
. . . . . . .
'Then naked thou came into this world,
And naked thou shalt returne againe.'

28
'Nay! God fforgaue his death, father,' shee sayes,
'And soe I hope you will doe mee;'
'Away, away, thou cursed woman,
I pray God an ill death thou may dye!'

29
Shee stood soe long quacking on the ground
Till her hart itt burst in three;
And then shee ffell dead downe in a swoond,
And this was the end of this bonny ladye.

30
Ithe morning, when her ffather gott vpp,
A pittyffull sight there he might see;
His owne deere daughter was dead, w_i_thout clothes,
The teares they trickeled fast ffrom his eye.

31
. . . . . . .
Sais, Fye of gold, and ffye of ffee!
For I sett soe much by my red gold
_Tha_t now itt hath lost both my daughter and mee!'

32
. . . . . . .
But after this time he neere dought good day,
But as flowers doth fade in the frost,
Soe he did wast and weare away.

33
But let vs leaue talking of this ladye,
And talke some more of young Andrew;
Ffor ffalse he was to this bonny ladye,
More pitty _tha_t he had not beene true.

34
He was not gone a mile into the wild forrest,
Or halfe a mile into the hart of Wales,
But there they cought him by such a braue wyle
_Tha_t hee must come to tell noe more tales.

* * * * * * *

35
. . . . . . .
Ffull soone a wolfe did of him smell,
And shee came roaring like a beare,
And gaping like a ffeend of hell.

36
Soe they ffought together like two lyons,
And fire betweene them two glashet out;
Thé raught eche other such a great rappe,
_Tha_t there young Andrew was slaine, well I wott.

37
But now young Andrew he is dead,
But he was neuer buryed vnder mold,
For ther as the wolfe devoured him,
There lyes all this great erles gold.

* * * * *

1^3. of one.

3^3. 2.^{se}, 3.^{se}.

7^4. to one. 17^2. 100_{:}^li.

19^1. My liffe.

25^2. _tha_t pinn.

30^3. _~any~ follows ~without~, but is crossed out_.

30^4. they teares.

33^4. itt had.

_Arabic numbers are in several cases expressed in
letters._

49

THE TWA BROTHERS

#A.# Sharpe's Ballad Book, p. 56, No 19.

#B.# 'The Cruel Brother,' Motherwell's MS., p. 259. From
the recitation of Mrs McCormick.

#C.# 'The Twa Brithers,' Motherwell's MS., p. 649. From
the recitation of Mrs Cunningham.

#D.# 'The Twa Brothers, or, The Wood o Warslin,'
Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 59. From the recitation of
Mrs Arrott.

#E.# 'The Twa Brothers,' Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 60.

#F.# 'The Two Brothers,' Buchan's MSS, I, 57; Motherwell's
MS., p. 662.

#G. a.# 'John and William,' taken down from the singing of
little girls in South Boston. #b.# From a child in New
York. Both communicated by Mr W. W. Newell.

All the Scottish versions were obtained within the first third of this century, and since then no others have been heard of. It is interesting to find the ballad still in the mouths of children in American cities,--in the mouths of the poorest, whose heritage these old things are.[401] The American versions, though greatly damaged, preserve the names John and William, which all the other copies have.

#B# and #C# are considerably corrupted. It need hardly be mentioned that the age of the boys in the first two stanzas of #B# does not suit the story. According to #C# 8, 15, the mother had cursed John, before he left home, with a wish that he might never return; and in #C# 9, John sends word to his true-love that he is in his grave for her dear sake alone. These points seem to have been taken from some copy of 'Willie and May Margaret,' or 'The Drowned Lovers.' The conclusion of both #B# and #C# belongs to 'Sweet William's Ghost.' #C# 18 may be corrected by #B# 10, though there is an absurd jumble of pipes and harp in the latter. The harp, in a deft hand, effects like wonders in many a ballad: e. g., 'Harpens Kraft,' Grundtvig, II, 65, No 40; even a pipe in #C# 14-16 of the same.

#D#, #E#, #F#, #G# supplement the story with more or less of the ballad of 'Edward:' see p. 168.

Jamieson inquires for this ballad in the Scots Magazine for October, 1803, p. 701, at which time he had only the first stanza and the first half of the third. He fills out the imperfect stanza nearly as in the copy which he afterwards printed:

But out an Willie's taen his knife,
And did his brother slay.

Of the five other Scottish versions, all except #B# make the deadly wound to be the result of accident, and this is, in Motherwell's view, a point essential. The other reading, he says, is at variance with the rest of the story, and "sweeps away the deep impression this simple ballad would otherwise have made upon the feelings: for it is almost unnecessary to mention that its touching interest is made to centre in the boundless sorrow and cureless remorse of him who had been the unintentional cause of his brother's death, and in the solicitude which that high-minded and generous spirit expresses, even in the last agonies of nature, for the safety and fortunes of the truly wretched and unhappy survivor." But the generosity of the dying man is plainly greater if his brother has killed him in an outburst of passion; and what is gained this way will fully offset the loss, if any, which comes from the fratricide having cause for "cureless remorse" as well as boundless sorrow. Motherwell's criticism, in fact, is not quite intelligible. (Minstrelsy, p. 61.)

The variation in the story is the same as that between the English 'Cruel Brother' and the German 'Graf Friedrich:' in the former the bride is killed by her offended brother; in the latter it is the bridegroom's sword slipping from its sheath that inflicts the mortal hurt.

Motherwell was inclined to believe, and Kirkpatrick Sharpe was convinced, that this ballad was founded upon an event that happened near Edinburgh as late as 1589, that of one of the Somervilles having been killed by his brother's pistol accidentally going off. Sharpe afterward found a case of a boy of thirteen killing a young brother in anger at having his hair pulled. This most melancholy story, the particulars of which are given in the last edition of the Ballad Book, p. 130, note xix, dates nearly a hundred years later, 1682. Only the briefest mention need be made of these unusually gratuitous surmises.

Kirkland, in #D#, was probably suggested by the kirkyard of other versions, assisted, possibly, by a reminiscence of the Kirkley in 'Robin Hood's Death and Burial;' for it will be observed that stanzas 8, 9 of #D# come pretty near to those in which Robin Hood gives direction for his grave; #F# 9, 10, #B# 5, 6 less near.[402]

Cunningham has entitled a romance of his, upon the theme of 'The Two Brothers' (which, once more, he ventures to print nearly in the state in which he once had the pleasure of hearing it sung), 'Fair Annie of Kirkland:' Songs of Scotland, II, 16.

The very pathetic passage in which the dying youth directs that father, mother, and sister shall be kept in ignorance of his death, and then, feeling how vain the attempt to conceal the fact from his true-love will be, bids that she be informed that he is in his grave and will never come back, is too truly a touch of nature to be found only here. Something similar occurs in 'Mary Hamilton,' where, however, the circumstances are very different:

'And here's to the jolly sailor lad
That sails upon the faeme!
And let not my father nor mother get wit
But that I shall come again.

'And here's to the jolly sailor lad
That sails upon the sea!
But let not my father nor mother get wit
O the death that I maun dee.'

In a fine Norse ballad (see 'Brown Robyn's Confession,' further on) a man who is to be thrown overboard to save a ship takes his leave of the world with these words:

'If any of you should get back to land,
And my foster-mother ask for me,
Tell her I'm serving in the king's court,
And living right merrily.

'If any of you should get back to land,
And my true-love ask for me,
Bid her to marry another man,
For I am under the sea.'

A baron, who has been mortally wounded in a duel, gives this charge to his servant:

'Faites mes compliments à ma femme,
Mais ne lui dites pas que j'ai été tué;
Mais dites lui que je serai allé à Paris,
Pour saluer le roi Louis.

'Dites que je serai allé à Paris,
Pour saluer le roi Louis,
Et que j'ai acheté un nouveau cheval,
Le petit cœur de mon cheval était trop gai.'

(Le Seigneur de Rosmadec, Luzel, I, 368/369, 374/375.)

In like manner a dying klepht: "If our comrades ask about me, tell them not that I have died: say only that I have married in strange lands; have taken the flat stone for mother-in-law, the black earth for my wife, the black worms for brothers-in-law." Zambelios, p. 606, No 11, Fauriel, I, 51, Passow, p. 118, No 152; and again, Zambelios, p. 672, No 94, Passow, p. 113, No 146. In the Danish 'Elveskud,' Grundtvig, II, 115, No 47, B* 18, Ole would simply have the tragic truth kept from his bride:

'Hearken, Sir Ole, of mickle pride,
How shall I answer thy young bride?'

'You must say I am gone to the wood,
To prove horse and hounds, if they be good.'