Chapter XXVIII: Appendix (5)

8
And there he found Dame Oliphant,
Was lying sound asleep,
And aye the sounder she did sleep
The nearer he did creep.

9
But when she wakend from her sleep
An angry maid was she,
Crying, Had far away frae me, young man,
Had far away frae me!
For I fear ye are the Scottish knight
That beguiles young ladies free.

10
'I am not the Scottish knight,
Nor ever thinks to be;
I am but Willie o Douglass Dale,
That serves for meat an fee.'

11
'If ye be Willie o Douglass Dale,
Ye're dearly welcome to me;
For oft in my sleep have I thought on
You and your merry winking ee.'

12
But the cocks they crew, and the horns blew,
And the lions took the hill,
And Willie he gaed hame again,
To his hard task and till;
And likewise did Dame Oliphant,
To her book and her seam.

13
Till it fell ance upon a day
Dame Oliphant thought lang,
And she went on to Willie's bower-yates,
As fast as she could gang.

14
'O are ye asleep now, Squire Willie?
O are you asleep?' said she;
O waken, waken, Squire Willie,
O waken, and speak to me.

15
'For the gowns that were oer wide, Willie,
They winna meet on me,
And the coats that were oer side, Willie,
They winna come to my knee;
And if the knights of my father's court get word,
I'm sure they'll gar you die.'

* * * * * * *

16
But she's taen a web of the scarlet,
And she tare it fine an sma,
And even into Willie's arms
She leapt the castle-wa;
And Willie was wight and well able,
And he keept her frae a fa.

17
But the cocks they crew, and the horns blew,
And the lions took the hill,
And Willie's ladie followed him,
And the tears did twinkle still.

18
'O want ye ribbons to your hair?
Or roses to your sheen?
Or want ye chains about your neck?
Ye'se get mair ere that be deen.'

19
'I want not ribbons to my hair,
Nor roses to my sheen,
And there's mair chains about my neck
Nor ever I'll see deen;
But I have as much dear bought love
As my heart can contain.'

20
'Will ye go to the cards or dice?
Or to the table ee?
Or to a bed, so well down spread,
And sleep till it be day?'

21
'I've mair need of the roddins, Willie,
That grow on yonder thorn;
Likewise a drink o Marywell water,
Out of your grass-green horn.

22
'I've mair need of a fire, Willie,
To had me frae the cauld;
Likewise a glass of your red wine,
Ere I bring my son to the fauld.'

23
He's got a bush o roddins till her,
That grows on yonder thorn;
Likewise a drink o Marywell water,
Out of his grass-green horn.

24
He carried the match in his pocket
That kindled to her the fire,
Well set about wi oaken spells,
That learnd oer Lincolnshire.

25
And he has bought to his lady
The white bread and the wine;
And the milk he milked from the goats,
He fed his young son on.

26
Till it fell ance upon a day
Dame Oliphant thought lang:
'O gin ye hae a being, Willie,
I pray ye hae me hame.'

27
He's taen his young son in his arms,
His lady by the hand,
And they're down thro good green wood,
As fast as they could gang.

28
Till they came to a shepherd-may,
Was feeding her flocks alone;
Said, Will ye gae alang wi me,
And carry my bonny young son?

29
The gowns that were shapen for my back,
They shall be sewd for thine;
And likewise I'll gar Squire Willie
Gie you a braw Scotsman.

30
When they came on to Willie's bower-yates,
And far beyont the sea,
She was haild the lady o Douglass Dale,
And Willie an earl to be:
Likewise the maid they brought awa,
She got a braw Scotsman.

C

Kinloch MSS, V, 327, in the handwriting of Dr John Hill
Burton.

1
Sweet Sir William of Douglas Dale,
A knight's ae son was he;
He dreamed of dear Dame Oliphant,
Lang ere he did her see.

2
He dreamed a woman of great beauty
Gave him a red rose flower,
Well busket about wi the lillies white,
Just like the paramour.

3
O sweet Sir William of Douglas Dale,
A knight's ae son was he,
And he is on to the king's high court,
To serve for meat and fee.

* * * * * * *

4
Five hundred pounds of Spanish gold,
Tied in a towal so white,
And that she has given her Lord William,
Out oer the castle-dyke.

5
Five hundred pounds of Spanish gold,
Tied in a towel sae sma,
And that she has given her own true-love,
Out ore the castle-wa.

6
She rowed hersell in a robe o silk,
To loup the castle-wa;
He ceppet her in his armes twa,
And he let not her get a fa.

* * * * * * *

7
The cocks do craw, and the day does daw,
And the wild fowl bodes on hill;
The lassie she followed her Sweet William,
And let the tears down fall.

* * * * * * *

8
'O want you ribbons to your hair?
Or roses to your sheen?
Or want ye as much of feel daft love
As your heart can contain?'

9
'I want nor ribbons to my hair,
Nor roses to my sheen;
I've got as much o dear bought love
As my heart can contain.'

* * * * * * *

10
He carried a flint in his pocket,
And he strack to her a fire,
And he buskit it roun wi the leaves o oak,
And gart it burn wi ire.

11
He's taen his big coat him about,
And his gun into his hand,
And he has gone to good green wood,
To kill some venison.

12
He's taen his big coat him about,
And his gun into his han,
But lang ere he came back again
She bare his dear young son.

13
He rowed her in his muckle coat,
But in his good night-gown,
And he fed her wi the good goat-milk,
Till she was well able to gang.

14
He's taen his young son in his arm,
His lady in his hand,
And they are down thro good green wood,
As fast as they can gang.

15
And they came to a shepherd's daughter,
Was feeding at her sheep;
Says, Will ye go to Douglass Dale,
Wi my yong son to keep?

16
O I will gee you gold, maiden,
And I will gee you fee,
Gin ye will go to Douglas Dale,
Wi my yong son and me.

17
She's taen his young son in her arm,
And kissed baith cheek and chin;
Says, I will go to Douglas Dale,
As fast as I can win.

18
He's taen his big coat him about,
And his lady in his hand,
And they are off to Douglas Dale,
As fast as they can gang.

19
And when they came to Douglas Dale
A happy man was he,
For his lady, and his young son,
And his nurse, a' three.

* * * * *

#A.#

_The stanzas are written in the MS. in two long lines.
The first stanza, as given by Anderson, is:_

Willie was as brave a lord
As ever saild the sea,
And he's gone to the English court,
To serve for meat and fee.

1^3. Enlish.

6^2, 7^2, 14^1, 24^1. & _for_ an.

22^4. tie(?).

24^1. the bow.

#B. a.#

27^3. And there.

#b.#

15^1. _Omits_ For.

_After 15, inserts:_

'Dame Oliphant, Dame Oliphant,
A king's daughter are ye;
But woud ye leave your father and mother,
And gang awa wi me?'

'O I woud leave my father and mother,
And the nearest that eer betide,
And I woud nae be feard to gang,
Gin ye war by my side.

17^4. trinkle.

19^3. there are.

19^4. Then ever.

20^2. table play.

23^2. grow.

26^4. pray you.

_After 30, inserts:_

And lang and happy did they live,
But now their days are deen,
And in the kirk o sweet Saint Bride
Their graves are growing green.

_Motherwell makes some alterations in his copy: as 1^3,
~laigh to sair~; 12^4, ~and toil~; ~whateer~, in the
second line of the second inserted stanza, above; besides
others which are purely arbitrary. He has ~table eye~ in
20^2, where Buchan prints ~table play~, and ~living~,
with ~being~ written over, in 26^3._

#C.#

3^1, 8^1, 16^1. Oh.

6^3. ceppit?

16^{1, 2}. gie?

_There are appended to this version two stanzas of which
Burton says_: The reciter of this ballad is obstinate in
persisting that the last two stanzas belong to it. They
are evidently taken from 'The Birth of Robin Hood,' and
have no connection with this ballad. _See the following
ballad._

[167] For the five hundred pounds in #A# 12, #C# 4, 5, cf. 'Leesome Brand,' #A# 12, 18, and the corresponding Scandinavian ballads.

102

WILLIE AND EARL RICHARD'S DAUGHTER

#A.# 'The Birth of Robin Hood,' Jamieson's Popular
Ballads, II, 44.

#B.# 'The Birth of Robin Hood,' Buchan's Ballads of the
North of Scotland, II, 1.

#C.# Kinloch's MSS, V, 330 f, two stanzas.

#A# was taken down from Mrs Brown's recitation by Jamieson in 1800, and published in his collection in 1806, "without the alteration of a single word." #C# wrongly forms the conclusion of 'Willie o Douglas Dale,' the preceding ballad. The copy in Christie's Traditional Ballad Airs, #I#, 128, is an abridgment of #B#, with a very few trivial changes.

The first half of the story in #A#, 1-9, is that of 'Willie of Douglas Dale,' #A#, 1-24, and there is a partial verbal correspondence.[168] In the latter a shepherd's daughter is engaged as nurse to the boy born in the wood, and Dame Oliphant is taken home by her lover and made lady of Douglas Dale. In the present ballad the lady's father tracks his daughter to the wood, finds the new-born child, adopts him as his grandson, and gives him the name Robin Hood, Willie [Archibald] disappearing from the scene.

The first part of #B# 4-18 is a variety of the wide-spread tragic ballad of 'Leesome Brand,' No 15. So, also, is the larger part of 'Willie o Douglas Dale,' with the tragic features dropped.

This ballad certainly does not belong to the cycle of Robin Hood, and for this reason the title hitherto borne by it could not be retained. The connection with Robin Hood was in all probability mediated by the name Brown Robin. Brown Robin plays the part of Willie [Archibald] in 'Rose the Red and White Lily,' #A# 25-29. Brown Robin's son, in 'Jellon Grame,' is called Robin after Robin Hood, #B# 14, #C# 7, 17. Brown Robin carries off his love to the wood in the ballad of the same name. The Earl of Huntingdon, #B# 3, 21, has no place in the ancient traditional ballads of Robin Hood, but is of later literary invention. #A# 17, #B# 1, #C# 1, may, however, very well have belonged to some Robin Hood ballad.

* * * * *

#A# is translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og skotske Folkeviser, p. 22, No 3.

#A#

Jamieson's Popular Ballads, II, 44, from Mrs Brown's
recitation.

1
O Willie's large o limb and lith,
And come o high degree,
And he is gane to Earl Richard,
To serve for meat and fee.

2
Earl Richard had but ae daughter,
Fair as a lily-flower,
And they made up their love-contract
Like proper paramour.

3
It fell upon a simmer's nicht,
Whan the leaves were fair and green,
That Willie met his gay ladie
Intil the wood alane.

4
'O narrow is my gown, Willie,
That wont to be sae wide;
And gane is a' my fair colour,
That wont to be my pride.

5
'But gin my father should get word
What's past between us twa,
Before that he should eat or drink,
He'd hang you oer that wa.

6
'But ye'll come to my bower, Willie,
Just as the sun gaes down,
And kep me in your arms twa,
And latna me fa down.'

7
O whan the sun was now gane down,
He's doen him till her bower,
And there, by the lee licht o the moon,
Her window she lookit oer.

8
Intill a robe o red scarlet
She lap, fearless o harm;
And Willie was large o lith and limb,
And keppit her in his arm.

9
And they've gane to the gude green wood,
And, ere the night was deen,
She's born to him a bonny young son,
Amang the leaves sae green.

10
Whan night was gane, and day was come,
And the sun began to peep,
Up and raise the Earl Richard
Out o his drowsy sleep.

11
He's ca'd upon his merry young men,
By ane, by twa, and by three:
'O what's come o my daughter dear,
That she's nae come to me?

12
'I dreamt a dreary dream last night,
God grant it come to gude!
I dreamt I saw my daughter dear
Drown in the saut sea flood.

13
'But gin my daughter be dead or sick,
Or yet be stown awa,
I mak a vow, and I'll keep it true,
I'll hang ye ane and a'!'

14
They sought her back, they sought her fore,
They sought her up and down;
They got her in the gude green wood,
Nursing her bonny young son.

15
He took the bonny boy in his arms,
And kist him tenderlie;
Says, Though I would your father hang,
Your mother's dear to me.

16
He kist him oer and oer again:
'My grandson I thee claim,
And Robin Hood in gude green wood,
And that shall be your name.'

17
And mony ane sings o grass, o grass,
And mony ane sings o corn,
And mony ane sings o Robin Hood
Kens little whare he was born.

18
It wasna in the ha, the ha,
Nor in the painted bower,
But it was in the gude green wood,
Amang the lily-flower.

#B#

Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 1.

1
Mony ane talks o the grass, the grass,
And mony ane o the corn,
And mony ane talks o gude Robin Hood
Kens little whar he was born.

2
He was gotten in a earl's ha,
And in a lady's bower,
And born into gude greenwood,
Thro mony cauld winter's shower.

3
His father was the earl's own steward,
Sprung frae sma pedigree;
His mother, Earl Huntingdon's ae daughter,
For he had nane else but she.

4
When nine months were near an end,
And eight months they were gone,
The lady's cheeks wi tears were wet,
And thus she made her moan:

5
'What shall I say, my love Archibald,
This day for you and me?
I will be laid in cauld irons,
And ye'll be hanged on tree.'

6
'What aileth my love Clementina?
What gars you mourn sae sair?'
'You know,' said she, 'I'm with child to thee,
These eight lang months and mair.'

7
'Will ye gae to my mother's bower,
Stands on yon stately green?
Or will ye gae to the gude greenwood,
Where ye will not be seen?'

8
'I winna gang to your mother's bower,
Stands on yon stately green;
But I will on to gude greenwood,
For I will not be seen.'

9
He's girt his sword down by his side,
Took his lady by the hand,
And they are on thro gude greenwood,
As fast as they could gang.

10
With slowly steps these couple walkd,
About miles scarcely three.
When this lady, being sair wearied out,
Lay down beneath a tree.

11
'O for a few of yon junipers,
To cheer my heart again,
And likewise for a gude midwife,
To ease me of my pain!'

12
'I'll bring to you yon junipers,
To cheer your heart again,
And I'll be to you a gude midwife,
To ease you of your pain.'

13
'Had far awa frae me, Archibald,
For this will never dee;
That's nae the fashion o our land,
And it's nae be used by me.

14
'Ye'll take your small-sword by your side,
Your buckler and your bow,
And ye'll gae down thro gude greenwood,
And hunt the deer and roe.

15
'You will stay in gude greenwood,
And with the chase go on,
Until yon white hind pass you by,
Then straight to me ye'll come.'

16
He's girt his sword then by his side,
His buckler and his bow,
And he is on thro gude greenwood,
To hunt the deer and roe.

17
And in the greenwood he did stay,
And with the chase gaed on,
Until the white hind passd him by,
Then to his love he came.

18
He girt his sword then by his side,
Fast thro greenwood went he,
And there he found his love lie dead,
Beneath the green oak tree.

19
The sweet young babe that she had born
Right lively seemed to be;
'Ohon, alas!' said young Archibald,
'A mournful scene to me!

20
'Altho my sweet babe is alive,
This does increase my woe;
How to nourish a motherless babe
Is mair than I do know.'

21
He looked east, he looked west,
To see what he could see,
Then spied the Earl o Huntingdon,
And mony a man him wi.

22
Then Archibald fled from the earl's face,
Among the leaves sae green,
That he might hear what might be said,
And see, and nae be seen.

23
The earl straight thro the greenwood came,
Unto the green oak tree,
And there he saw his daughter dead,
Her living child her wi.

24
Then he's taen up the little boy,
Rowed him in his gown-sleeve;
Said, Tho your father's to my loss,
Your mother's to me leave.

25
And if ye live until I die,
My bowers and lands ye'se heir;
You are my only daughter's child;
But her I never had mair.

26
Ye'se hae all kinds of nourishment,
And likewise nurses three;
If I knew where the fause knave were,
High hanged should he be.

27
His daughter he buried in gude church-yard,
All in a mournful mood,
And brought the boy to church that day,
And christend him Robin Hood.

28
This boy was bred in the earl's ha
Till he became a man,
But loved to hunt in gude greenwood,
To raise his noble fame.

C

Kinloch MSS, V, 330 f, the last two stanzas of 'Douglass
Dale.'

1
Mony ane speaks o grass, o grass,
And mony mare o corn,
And mony ane sings o Robin Heed
Kens little whare he was born.

2
He was born in good green wood,
At the fut o yon olive tree;
His father was a knight's ae son,
And his mother a lady free.

* * * * *

#B.#

_Christie says of his copy that the words sung by his
maternal grandfather_ "were somewhat, as far as the
Editor can remember, like those given by Buchan, _and
that_ some slight alterations _were made by him_ from the
way the Editor heard the ballad sung."

_The alterations in Christie's eighteen stanzas are:_

1^3. mony talk.

1^4. That kenna.

8^4. Whare I will.

15^1. in the.

15^3. a white.

18^2. gaed he.

25^4. I neer.

28^1. The.

[168] Compare No 102, #A# 1^{3, 4}, and No 101, #A# 1^{3, 4}; 2^{3, 4} and 8^{3, 4}; 3 and 3; 4 and 9^{1, 2, 5, 6}; 5 and 10^{1, 2, 5, 6}; 7^1, 8^{2-4} and 13; 9^3 and 24^4. Also No 102, #A# 3, and No 101, #B# 13; 4^{1, 2}, 5^{1, 4} and 15^{1, 2, 5, 6}; 8 and 16. Also, No 102, #A# 1, and No 101, #C# 3; 8 and 6.

103

ROSE THE RED AND WHITE LILY

#A.# 'Rose the Red and White Lilly,' Jamieson-Brown MS.,
fol. 1.

#B.# 'Rose the Red and White Lillie,' Buchan's Ballads of
the North of Scotland, I, 67.

#C.# 'The Wedding of Robin Hood and Little John,'
Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 69.

#A# was No 6 of the fifteen ballads written down by Mrs Brown for William Tytler in 1783: Anderson, in Nichols's Illustrations, VII, 176. This copy was printed by Scott in his Minstrelsy, II, 60, 1802, "chiefly from Mrs Brown's MS.," but with numerous alterations. Kinloch's annotated copy of his Ancient Scottish Ballads supplies an additional stanza of #C#; the 17th.

The story in #A# is that Rose the Red and White Lily have a bad step-mother, who, however, has two good sons that love these maids: Brown Robin, Lily, and Arthur, Rose. The maids build a bower, in which the young people make very merry, and the step-mother, to spoil sport, tells her sons that they must sail the sea. Brown Robin goes to the wood, and Arthur to the king's court. The maids disguise themselves as men, and take service with their lovers: White Lily under the name of Roge the Round, and Rose the Red under that of Sweet Willy. Before they part they make a mutual vow that at three blasts of a horn the one shall come to the other's help. Once upon a time, when Robin and his men are putting the stone, Roge sets it seven foot beyond all the rest, but, having exerted herself too much in so doing, is fain to lean her back against an oak and utters a moan, by which Brown Robin perceives that Roge is a woman. Forty weeks after this Roge has occasion for the aid of a bower-wife. Brown Robin proffers his help, but it is declined; nevertheless, with an apparent but not a real inconsistency, the lady asks him to blow her horn, for she has a brother at the court who will come to her upon the sound. Robin replies that if she has a brother whom she loves better than him she may blow the horn herself. This she does, and Sweet Willy comes at once. Brown Robin will let no man enter the bower without a fight. Rose the Red is wounded, and avows herself to be a woman. Brown Robin is distressed: he wished never to see a woman's blood, for the sake of a maid named White Lily. Roge the Round reveals herself as that same. Word comes to the king's court that Brown Robin's man has borne a son, and the king declares that he will go to the wood to inquire into this marvel. Arthur will go with him, to find a foot-page who had left him. Arrived at the wood, Arthur blows his horn, and Sweet Willy comes running to him. Arthur asks the page why he had run away, and is told that it was to see a brother that lives in the wood. The king enters the bower, and finds White Lily nursing her son. This leads to an explanation on the part of Rose the Red. Brown Robin, coming in from hunting, starts to see the king. The king bids him have no fear, but quit the wood and come to court. Brown Robin and White Lily, Arthur and Rose the Red, go to church and are married.

In #B# the two maids, ill-treated by their step-mother, betake themselves to the wood, where they meet, not Brown Robin, but Robin Hood, and take service with him. Rose and Lily change parts; Rose, under the name of Nicholas, consorting with Robin Hood, and Lily, _alias_ Roger Brown, with Little John. It is not, however, Robin Hood and Little John who turn out to be their lovers, but "a lad in the company," and "another youth among the company," stanzas 30, 51. Nothing is said of the king.

In the fragmentary #C# the maids are daughters of a king. Their proper names are not given, and we do not learn that the stepmother has a pair of sons. In consequence of the harshness of their step-mother, these king's daughters go to the wood as Nicholas and Rogee Roun, to seek Robin Hood, and they are discovered to be maids by a song which Rogee sings. Rogee is wedded to Robin Hood, and Nicholas to Little John.

It is easy to see that the Robin Hood of #B#, #C#, was suggested by the Brown Robin of #A#. The name Barnsdale in #A# 12, 51 has certainly been adopted from the Robin Hood cycle, but in the present ballad is the residence of the father of Rose and Lily, not that of Robin Hood.

The only part of the ballad which has the stamp of indubitably ancient tradition is the child-birth in the wood, and this scene is the rightful, and perhaps exclusive, property of 'Leesome Brand,' No 15: see I, 182. #A# 24-29, #B# 40-47, are found again in 'Willie o Douglas Dale,' #A# 15-17, 22, 23, #B# 18, 19, 22, 24, #C# 8-10, and the first part of 'Willie o Douglas Dale,' as well as of the ballad which immediately precedes the present, commonly called 'The Birth of Robin Hood,' is a variation of 'Leesome Brand.'

Robin Hood has no love-story in any ancient ballad, though his name has been foisted into modern love-ballads, as in 'Robin Hood and the Tanner's Daughter,' No 8 #C#. Maid Marian is a late accretion. There is a piteously vulgar broadside, in which Maid Marian, being parted from Robin Hood, dresses herself "like a page" (but armed fully), meets Robin Hood, also under disguise, and has an hour's fight with him. There is so far a resemblance in this to #A# 30 ff, #B# 49, that a woman disguised as a page fights with Robin Hood. I suppose the resemblance to be accidental, but whether it be or not, the question of 'Rose the Red and White Lily' being originally a Robin Hood ballad is not affected.

#A# 3, #B# 5, is like #C# 6 of 'The Clerk's Twa Sons o Owsenford,' No 72.

* * * * *

Scott's copy is translated by Doenniges, p. 40.

A

Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 1.

1
O Rose the Red and White Lilly,
Their mother dear was dead,
And their father married an ill woman,
Wishd them twa little guede.

2
Yet she had twa as fu fair sons
As eer brake manis bread,
And the tane of them loed her White Lilly,
An the tither lood Rose the Red.

3
O biggit ha they a bigly bowr,
And strawn it oer wi san,
And there was mair mirth i the ladies' bowr
Than in a' their father's lan.

4
But out it spake their step-mother,
Wha stood a little foreby:
I hope to live and play the prank
Sal gar your loud sang ly.

5
She's calld upon her eldest son:
Come here, my son, to me;
It fears me sair, my eldest son,
That ye maun sail the sea.

6
'Gin it fear you sair, my mither dear,
Your bidding I maun dee;
But be never war to Rose the Red
Than ye ha been to me.'

7
'O had your tongue, my eldest son,
For sma sal be her part;
You'll nae get a kiss o her comely mouth
Gin your very fair heart should break.'

8
She's calld upon her youngest son:
Come here, my son, to me;
It fears me sair, my youngest son,
That ye maun sail the sea.

9
'Gin it fear you sair, my mither dear,
Your bidding I maun dee;
But be never war to White Lilly
Than ye ha been to me.'

10
'O haud your tongue, my youngest son,
For sma sall be her part;
You'll neer get a kiss o her comely mouth
Tho your very fair heart should break.'

11
When Rose the Red and White Lilly
Saw their twa loves were gane,
Then stopped ha they their loud, loud sang,
And tane up the still mournin;
And their step-mother stood listnin by,
To hear the ladies' mean.

12
Then out it spake her White Lilly:
My sister, we'll be gane;
Why should we stay in Barnsdale,
To waste our youth in pain?

13
Then cutted ha they their green cloathing
A little below their knee,
An sae ha they there yallow hair,
A little aboon there bree;
An they've doen them to haely chapel,
Was christened by Our Lady.

14
There ha they chang'd their ain twa names,
Sae far frae ony town,
An the tane o them hight Sweet Willy,
An the tither o them Roge the Roun.

15
Between this twa a vow was made,
An they sware it to fulfil;
That at three blasts o a bugle-horn,
She'd come her sister till.

16
Now Sweet Willy's gane to the kingis court,
Her true-love for to see,
An Roge the Roun to good green wood,
Brown Robin's man to be.

17
As it fell out upon a day
They a' did put the stane,
Full seven foot ayont them a'
She gard the puttin-stane gang.

18
She leand her back against an oak,
And gae a loud Ohone!
Then out it spake him Brown Robin,
But that's a woman's moan!

19
'O ken ye by my red rose lip?
Or by my yallow hair?
Or ken ye by my milk-white breast?
For ye never saw it bare?'

20
'I ken no by your red rose lip,
Nor by your yallow hair;
Nor ken I by your milk-white breast,
For I never saw it bare;
But come to your bowr whaever sae likes,
Will find a lady there.'

21
'O gin ye come to my bowr within,
Thro fraud, deceit, or guile,
Wi this same bran that's in my han,
I swear I will the kill.'

22
'But I will come thy bowr within,
An spear nae leave,' quoth he;
'An this same bran that's i my han
I sall ware back on the.'

23
About the tenth hour of the night
The ladie's bower-door was broken,
An eer the first hour of the day
The bonny knave-bairn was gotten.

24
When days were gane, and months were run,
The lady took travailing,
And sair she cry'd for a bowr-woman,
For to wait her upon.

25
Then out it spake him Brown Robin:
Now what needs a' this din?
For what coud any woman do
But I coud do the same?

26
''Twas never my mither's fashion,' she says,
'Nor sall it ever be mine,
That belted knights shoud eer remain
Where ladies dreed their pine.

27
'But ye take up that bugle-horn,
An blaw a blast for me;
I ha a brother i the kingis court
Will come me quickly ti.'

28
'O gin ye ha a brither on earth
That ye love better nor me,
Te blaw the horn yoursel,' he says,
'For ae blast I winna gie.'

29
She's set the horn till her mouth,
And she's blawn three blasts sae shrill;
Sweet Willy heard i the kingis court,
And came her quickly till.

30
Then up it started Brown Robin,
An an angry man was he:
'There comes nae man this bowr within
But first must fight wi me.'

31
O they hae fought that bowr within
Till the sun was gaing down,
Till drops o blude frae Rose the Red
Came hailing to the groun.

32
She leand her back against the wa,
Says, Robin, let a' be;
For it is a lady born and bred
That's foughten sae well wi thee.

33
O seven foot he lap a back;
Says, Alas, and wae is me!
I never wisht in a' my life,
A woman's blude to see;
An a' for the sake of ae fair maid
Whose name was White Lilly.

34
Then out it spake her White Lilly,
An a hearty laugh laugh she:
She's lived wi you this year an mair,
Tho ye kentna it was she.

35
Now word has gane thro a' the lan,
Before a month was done,
That Brown Robin's man, in good green wood,
Had born a bonny young son.

36
The word has gane to the kingis court,
An to the king himsel;
'Now, by my fay,' the king could say,
'The like was never heard tell!'

37
Then out it spake him Bold Arthur,
An a hearty laugh laugh he:
I trow some may has playd the loun,
And fled her ain country.

38
'Bring me my steed,' then cry'd the king,
'My bow and arrows keen;
I'l ride mysel to good green wood,
An see what's to be seen.'

39
'An't please your grace,' said Bold Arthur,
'My liege, I'll gang you wi,
An try to fin a little foot-page,
That's strayd awa frae me.'

40
O they've hunted i the good green wood
The buck but an the rae,
An they drew near Brown Robin's bowr,
About the close of day.

41
Then out it spake the king in hast,
Says, Arthur, look an see
Gin that be no your little foot-page
That leans against yon tree.

42
Then Arthur took his bugle-horn,
An blew a blast sae shrill;
Sweet Willy started at the sound,
An ran him quickly till.

43
'O wanted ye your meat, Willy?
Or wanted ye your fee?
Or gat ye ever an angry word,
That ye ran awa frae me?'

44
'I wanted nought, my master dear;
To me ye ay was good;
I came but to see my ae brother,
That wons in this green wood.'

45
Then out it spake the king again,
Says, Bonny boy, tell to me
Wha lives into yon bigly bowr,
Stands by yon green oak tree?

46
'O pardon me,' says Sweet Willy,
'My liege, I dare no tell;
An I pray you go no near that bowr,
For fear they do you fell.'

47
'O baud your tongue, my bonny boy,
For I winna be said nay;
But I will gang that bowr within,
Betide me weel or wae.'

48
They've lighted off their milk-white steeds,
An saftly enterd in,
An there they saw her White Lilly,
Nursing her bonny yong son.

49
'Now, by the rood,' the king coud say,
This is a comely sight;
I trow, instead of a forrester's man,
This is a lady bright!'

50
Then out it spake her Rose the Red,
An fell low down on her knee:
O pardon us, my gracious liege,
An our story I'll tell thee.

51
Our father was a wealthy lord,
That wond in Barnsdale;
But we had a wicked step-mother,
That wrought us meickle bale.

52
Yet she had twa as fu fair sons
As ever the sun did see,
An the tane o them lood my sister dear,
An the tither sayd he lood me.

53
Then out it spake him Bold Arthur,
As by the king he stood:
Now, by the faith o my body,
This shoud be Rose the Red!

54
Then in it came him Brown Robin,
Frae hunting o the deer,
But whan he saw the king was there,
He started back for fear.

55
The king has taen him by the hand,
An bade him naithing dread;
Says, Ye maun leave the good green wood,
Come to the court wi speed.

56
Then up he took White Lilly's son,
An set him on his knee;
Says, Gin ye live to wiald a bran,
My bowman ye sall bee.

57
The king he sent for robes of green,
An girdles o shinning gold;
He gart the ladies be arrayd
Most comely to behold.

58
They've done them unto Mary Kirk,
An there gat fair wedding,
An fan the news spread oer the lan,
For joy the bells did ring.

59
Then out it spake her Rose the Red,
An a hearty laugh laugh she:
I wonder what would our step-dame say,
Gin she this sight did see!

B

Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 67.

1
Now word is gane thro a' the land,
Gude seal that it sae spread!
To Rose the Red and White Lillie,
Their mither dear was dead.

2
Their father's married a bauld woman,
And brought her ower the sea,
Twa sprightly youths, her ain young sons,
Intill her companie.

3
They fixd their eyes on those ladies,
On shipboard as they stood,
And sware, if ever they wan to land,
These ladies they woud wed.

4
But there was nae a quarter past,
A quarter past but three,
Till these young luvers a' were fond
O other's companie.

5
The knights they harped i their bower,
The ladies sewd and sang;
There was mair mirth in that chamer
Than a' their father's lan.

6
Then out it spak their step-mither,
At the stair-foot stood she:
I'm plagued wi your troublesome noise!
What makes your melodie?

7
O Rose the Red, ye sing too loud,
White Lillie, your voice is strang;
But gin I live and brook my life,
I'se gar you change your sang.

8
'We maunna change our loud, loud song
For nae duke's son ye'll bear;
We winna change our loud, loud song,
But aye we'll sing the mair.

9
'We never sung the sang, mither,
But we'll sing ower again;
We'll take our harps into our hands,
And we'll harp, and we'll sing.'

10
She's calld upon her twa young sons,
Says, Boun ye for the sea;
Let Rose the Red and White Lillie
Stay in their bower wi me.

11
'O God forbid,' said her eldest son,
'Nor lat it ever be,
Unless ye were as kind to our luves
As gin we were them wi.'

12
'Yet never the less, my pretty sons,
Ye'll boun you for the faem;
Let Rose the Red and White Lillie
Stay in their bowers at hame.'

13
'O when wi you we came alang,
We felt the stormy sea,
And where we go, ye neer shall know,
Nor shall be known by thee.'

14
Then wi her harsh and boisterous word
She forc'd these lads away,
While Rose the Red and White Lillie
Still in their bowers did stay.

15
But there was not a quarter past,
A quarter past but ane,
Till Rose the Red in rags she gaed,
White Lillie's claithing grew thin.

16
Wi bitter usage every day,
The ladies they thought lang;
'Ohon, alas!' said Rose the Red,
'She's gard us change our sang.

17
'But we will change our own fu names,
And we'll gang frae the town,
Frae Rose the Red and White Lillie
To Nicholas and Roger Brown.

18
'And we will cut our green claithing
A little aboon our knee,
And we will on to gude greenwood,
Twa bauld bowmen to be.'

19
'Ohon, alas!' said White Lillie,
'My fingers are but sma,
And tho my hands woud wield the bow,
They winna yield at a'.'

20
'O had your tongue now, White Lillie,
And lat these fears a' be;
There's naething that ye're awkward in
But I will learn thee.'

21
Then they are on to gude greenwood,
As fast as gang coud they;
O then they spied him Robin Hood,
Below a green aik tree.

22
'Gude day, gude day, kind sir,' they said,
'God make you safe and free:'
'Gude day, gude day,' said Robin Hood,
'What is your wills wi me?'

23
'Lo here we are, twa banishd knights,
Come frae our native hame;
We're come to crave o thee service,
Our king will gie us nane.'

24
'If ye be twa young banishd knights,
Tell me frae what countrie:'
'Frae Anster town into Fifeshire;
Ye know it as well as we.'

25
'If a' be true that ye hae said,
And tauld just now to me,
Ye're welcome, welcome, every one;
Your master I will be.

26
'Now ye shall eat as I do eat,
And lye as I do lye;
Ye salna wear nae waur claithing
Nor my young men and I.'

27
Then they went to a ruinous house,
And there they enterd in,
And Nicholas fed wi Robin Hood,
And Roger wi Little John.

28
But it fell ance upon a day
They were at the putting-stane,
Whan Rose the Red she viewd them a',
As they stood on the green.

29
She hit the stane then wi her foot,
And kepd it wi her knee,
And spaces three aboon them a'
I wyte she gard it flee.

30
She sat her back then to a tree,
And gae a loud Ohon!
A lad spak in the companie,
I hear a woman's moan.

31
'How know you that, young man?' she said,
'How know you that o me?
Did eer ye see me in that place
Ae foot my ground to flee?

32
'Or know ye by my cherry cheeks?
Or by my yellow hair?
Or by the paps on my breast-bane?
Ye never saw them bare.'

33
'I know not by your cherry cheeks,
Nor by your yellow hair;
But I know by your milk-white chin,
On it there grows nae hair.

34
'I never saw you in that cause
Ae foot your ground to flee;
I've seen you stan wi sword in han
Mang men's blood to the knee.

35
'But if I come your bower within,
By night, or yet by day,
I shall know before I go
If ye be man or may.'

36
'O if you come my bower within,
By night, or yet by day,
As soon's I draw my trusty brand,
Nae lang ye'll wi me stay.'

37
But he is haunted to her bower,
Her bigly bower o stane,
Till he has got her big wi bairn,
And near sax months she's gane.

38
Whan three mair months were come and gane,
They gaed to hunt the hynde;
She wont to be the foremost ane,
But now stayd far behynd.

39
Her luver looks her in the face,
And thus to her said he;
I think your cheeks are pale and wan;
Pray, what gaes warst wi thee?

40
O want ye roses to your breast?
Or ribbons to your sheen?
Or want ye as muckle o dear bought luve
As your heart can conteen?

41
'I want nae roses to my breast,
Nae ribbons to my sheen;
Nor want I as muckle dear bought luve
As my heart can conteen.

42
'I'd rather hae a fire behynd,
Anither me before,
A gude midwife at my right side,
Till my young babe be bore.'

43
'I'll kindle a fire wi a flint-stane,
Bring wine in a green horn;
I'll be midwife at your right side,
Till your young babe be born.'

44
'That was neer my mither's custom,
Forbid that it be mine!
A knight stan by a lady bright
Whan she drees a' her pine.

45
'There is a knight in gude greenwood,
If that he kent o me,
Thro stock and stane and the hawthorn
Sae soon's he woud come me tee.'

46
'If there be a knight in gude greenwood
Ye like better than me,
If ance he come your bower within,
Ane o us twa shall dee.'

47
She set a horn to her mouth,
And she blew loud and shrill;
Thro stock and stane and the hawthorn
Brave Roger came her till.

48
'Wha's here sae bauld,' the youth replied,
'Thus to encroach on me?'
'O here I am,' the knight replied,
'Hae as much right as thee.'

49
Then they fought up the gude greenwood,
Sae did they down the plain;
They niddart ither wi lang braid-swords,
Till they were bleedy men.

50
Then out it spak the sick woman,
Sat under the greenwood tree;
O had your han, young man, she said,
She's a woman as well as me.

51
Then out it speaks anither youth,
Amang the companie;
Gin I had kent what I ken now,
'T is for her I woud dee.

52
'O wae mat worth you, Rose the Red,
An ill death mat ye dee!
Altho ye tauld upo yoursell,
Ye might hae heald on me.'

53
'O for her sake I was content
For to gae ower the sea;
For her I left my mither's ha,
Tho she proves fause to me.'

54
But whan these luvers were made known,
They sung right joyfullie,
Nae blyther was the nightingale,
Nor bird that sat on tree.

55
Now they hae married these ladies,
Brought them to bower and ha;
And now a happy life they lead;
I wish sae may we a'.

C

Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, annotated by the
editor, p. 69.

1
The king has wedded an ill woman,
Into some foreign land;
His daughters twa, that stood in awe,
They bravely sat and sang.

2
Then in became their step-mother,
Sae stately steppin ben:
'O gin I live and bruik my life,
I'll gar ye change your tune.'

3
'O we sang neer that sang, ladie,
But we will sing again;
And ye neer boor that son, ladie,
We wad lay our love on.

4
'But we will cow our yellow locks
A little abune our bree,
And we will on to gude greenwud,
And serve for meat and fee.

5
'And we will kilt our gay claithing
A little below the knee,
And we will on to gude greenwud,
Gif Robin Hood we see.

6
'And we will change our ain twa names,
When we gae frae the toun;
The tane we will call Nicholas,
The tither Rogee Roun.'

7
Then they hae cowd their yellow locks
A little abune their bree,
And they are on to gude greenwud,
To serve for meat and fee.

8
And they hae kilt their gay claithing
A little below their knee,
And they are on to gud greenwud,
Gif Robin Hood they see.

9
And they hae chang'd thair ain twa names,
Whan they gaed frae the toun;
The tane they've called Nicholas,
The tither Rogee Roun.

10
And they hae staid in gude greenwud,
And never a day thoucht lang,
Till it fell ance upon a day
That Rogee sang a sang.

11
'Whan we were in our father's bouer,
We sewd the silken seam;
But now we walk the gude greenwud,
And bear anither name.

12
'When we were in our father's ha,
We wore the beaten gold;
But now we wear the shield sae sharp;
Alas, we'll die with cold!'

13
Then up bespak him Robin Hood,
As he to them drew near:
'Instead of boys to carry the bow,
Two ladies we've got here'

14
So they had not been in gud greenwud
A twalmonth and a day,
Till Rogee Roun was as big wi bairn
As onie lady could gae.

15
'O wae be to my stepmother,
That garrd me leave my hame!
For I'm wi bairn to Robin Hood,
And near nine month is gane.

16
'O wha will be my bouer-woman?
Na bouer-woman is here;
O wha will be my bouer-woman,
Whan that sad time draws near?'

17
Then up bespak him Robin Hood,
At the foot o yon greenwud tree:
O hold your tongue, fair Rogee Roun,
For married ye sall be.

18
The tane was wedded to Robin Hood,
And the tither to Little John;
And it was a' owing to their stepmother,
That garrd them leave their hame.

* * * * *

#A.#

_Written, like all the ballads in the MS., in stanzas of
two long lines._

1. _Anderson cites this stanza, giving the last line_,
Wist them twa little quee'd.

8^1. younges.

8^3. youngst.

13^1. greed.

21^4. sear.

26^3. beltest kights.

47^4. well?

49^1. the the king.

_Scott's variations, the contrary not being alleged, must
be supposed to be his own. Scott inserts after 10:_

Sae Bauld Arthur's gane to our king's court,
His hie chamberlain to be;
But Brown Robin he has slain a knight,
And to grene wood he did flee.

_11^{5, 6} are 12^{1, 2} in the MS., making a stanza with
12^{1, 2}; 12^{3, 4} make an eight-line stanza with 13.
11^{5, 6} are omitted by Scott._

_13^{5, 6} make the last half of a stanza in Scott, which
begins:_

And left hae they that bonny bour,
To cross the raging sea.

_20^{3, 4} are omitted by Scott._

_33^{5, 6} make the last half of a stanza in Scott, which
runs:_

And that all for the knightly vow
I swore to Our Ladye,
But mair, _etc._

_57 follows 53 in Scott, and 59 is omitted._

#B.#

7^2. While Lillie.

43^2. horn green.

104

PRINCE HEATHEN

#A.# 'The Disconsolate Lady,' The Jovial Rake's Garland,
n. d., p. 6, No 4.

#B.# 'Prince Heathen,' Buchan's MSS, I, 97; Motherwell's
MS., p. 665.

The fragment #A# (pointed out to me by Svend Grundtvig) is partly explained by #B#, which is no doubt some stall-copy, reshaped from tradition. Motherwell's copy was derived from Buchan.

The story, which reads like an old one extremely corrupted, is none too intelligible even in the longer form. Lady Margery is sitting in her bower-door. Prince Heathen comes by and gives her a ring. She refuses him her love. He swears that he will make her greet; she swears that he shall not. He takes her maidenhead: still she will not greet. He tells her that he has killed her father, mother, and seven brothers: still she will not greet. He puts her in a vault of stone, fastened with five and thirty locks: she will not greet [go, #A#], but rues. He comes back from the mountains, and asks her how she is faring. Dying, she says. He takes her out upon the green, allowing her no female service, and she brings forth a son. How is it with her now? Dying. She asks for a drink of water: he will not give her a drop until she wraps up her young son. She has nothing to wrap the babe in; he gives her his horse-sheet; her tears fall fast. "Bonny may, now you greet!" he exclaims ["will you go now?" #A#]. But she greets not for him; it is for her young son, wrapped so roughly. Prince Heathen, satisfied, as far as we can see, now that he has subdued her proud will, orders his son to be rolled in silk and washed in milk, according to the usage of Scottish nursery: see No 5, #B# 61, #C# 82, 83, #E# 32, #F# 57, #G# 33; No 20, #C# 8; No 63, #B# 35, #C# 35, #F# 22, #J# 47; No 101, #A# 25. Having broken her spirit, he loves her well.

A

The Jovial Rake's Garland, n. d., p. 6, No 4, Bodleian
Library, Douce PP, 164.

1
Lady Margery May sits in her bower,
Sewing at her seem;
By there comes a heathen knight,
From her her maidenhead has tane.

2
He has put her in a tower strong,
With double locks on fifty doors:
'Lady Margery May, will you ga now?'
'O ye heathen knight, not yet for you.

3
'I am asking, you heathen knight;
What I am asking will you grant to me?
Will ye let one of your waitmen
A drink of your well bring to me?'

4
'Meat nor drink you shall never get,
Nor out of that shall you never come,
Meat nor drink shall you never get,
Until you bear to me daughter or son.'

5
Thus time drew on, and further on,
For travail came this young lady to;
She travailed up, so did she down,
But lighter could she never be.

6
'An asking, an asking, you heathen knight;
An asking will you grant to me?
Will you give me a scread of silk,
For to row your young son wi?'

7
He took the horse-sheet in his hand,
The tears came twinkling down:
'Lady Margaret May, will ye ga now?'
'O ye heathen knight, not yet for you.'

8
'I'll wash my young son with the milk,
I will dry my young son with the silk;
For hearts will break, and bands will bow;
So dear will I love my lady now!'

B

Buchan's MSS, I, 97; Motherwell's MS., p. 665.

1
Lady Margaret sat in her bower-door,
Sewing at her silken seem,
When by it came Prince Heathen then,
An gae to her a gay gold ring.

2
He turnd about, an gied a bow;
She said, Begone, I love na you;
When he sware by his yellow hair
That he woud gar her greet fu sair.

3
But she sware by her milk-white skin
Prince Heathen shoud gar her greet nane:
'O bonny may, winna ye greet now?'
'Ye heathenish dog, nae yet for you.'

4
He's taen her in his arms twa,
Laid her between him an the wa,
An ere he let her free again,
Her maidenhead frae her he's taen.
'O bonny may, winna ye greet now?'
'Ye heathenish dog, nae yet for you.'

5
'I killd your father in his bed,
And your gay mother by his side,
And your seven brothers, ane by ane,
And they were seven pretty men.
O bonny may, winna ye greet now?'
'Ye heathenish dog, nae yet for you.'

6
'I'll put you in a vault o stone,
Where five an thirty locks hing on;
Naebody there then shall you see,
For I will keep the keys wi me.
O bonny may, winna ye greet now?'
'Ye heathenish dog, nae yet for you.'