Chapter VII: Appendix (2)

19
'Rise up, rise up, my bierly bride;
I think my bed's but caul;
I woudna hear my lady lament
For your tocher ten times taul.

20
'O seven ships did bring you here,
An an sal tak you hame;
The leve I'll keep to your sister Jane,
For tocher she gat nane.'

F

Motherwell's MS., p. 385; Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p.
327. From the recitation of Mrs Rule, Paisley, August 16,
1825.

1
'Learn to mak your bed, Annie,
And learn to lie your lane,
For I maun owre the salt seas gang,
A brisk bride to bring hame.

2
'Bind up, bind up your yellow hair,
And tye it in your neck,
And see you look as maiden-like
As the first day that we met.'

3
'O how can I look maiden-like,
When a maid I'll never be;
When seven brave sons I've born to thee,
And the eighth is in my bodie?

4
'The eldest of your sons, my lord,
Wi red gold shines his weed;
The second of your sons, my lord,
Rides on a milk-white steed.

5
'And the third of your sons, my lord,
He draws your beer and wine,
And the fourth of your sons, my lord,
Can serve you when you dine.

6
'And the fift of your sons, my lord,
He can both read and write,
And the sixth of your sons, my lord,
Can do it maist perfyte.

7
'And the sevent of your sons, my lord,
Sits on the nurse's knee;
And how can I look maiden-like,
When a maid I'll never be?

8
'But wha will bake your wedding bread,
And brew your bridal ale?
Or wha will welcome your brisk bride,
That you bring owre the dale?'

9
'I'll put cooks in my kitchen,
And stewards in my hall,
And I'll have bakers for my bread,
And brewers for my ale;
But you're to welcome my brisk bride,
That I bring owre the dale.'

10
He set his fut into his ship,
And his cock-boat on the main;
He swore it would be year and day
Or he returned again.

11
When year and day was past and gane,
Fair Annie she thocht lang,
And she is up to her bower-head,
To behold both sea and land.

12
'Come up, come up, my eldest son,
And see now what you see;
O yonder comes your father dear,
And your stepmother-to-be.'

13
'Cast off your gown of black, mother,
Put on your gown of brown,
And I'll put off my mourning weeds,
And we'll welcome him home.'

14
She's taken wine into her hand,
And she has taken bread,
And she is down to the water-side
To welcome them indeed.

15
'You're welcome, my lord, you're welcome, my lord,
You're welcome home to me;
So is every lord and gentleman
That is in your companie.

16
'You're welcome, my lady, you're welcome, my lady,
You're welcome home to me;
So is every lady and gentleman
That's in your companye.'

17
'I thank you, my girl, I thank you, my girl,
I thank you heartilie;
If I live seven years about this house,
Rewarded you shall be.'

18
She served them up, she served them down,
With the wheat bread and the wine;
But aye she drank the cold water,
To keep her colour fine.

19
She servd them up, she servd them down,
With the wheat bread and the beer;
But aye she drank the cauld water,
To keep her colour clear.

20
When bells were rung and mass was sung,
And all were boune for rest,
Fair Annie laid her sons in bed,
And a sorrowful woman she was.

21
'Will I go to the salt, salt seas,
And see the fishes swim?
Or will I go to the gay green-wood,
And hear the small birds sing?'

22
Out and spoke an aged man,
That stood behind the door:
'Ye will not go to the salt, salt seas,
To see the fishes swim;
Nor will ye go to the gay green-wood,
To hear the small birds sing.

23
'But ye'll tak a harp, into your hand,
Go to their chamber door,
And aye ye'll harp, and aye ye'll murn,
With the salt tears falling oer.'

24
She's tane a harp into her hand,
Went to their chamber door,
And aye she harpd, and aye she murnd,
With the salt tears falling oer.

25
Out and spak the brisk young bride,
In bride-bed where she lay:
'I think I hear my sister Annie,
And I wish weel it may;
For a Scotish lord staw her awa,
And an ill death may he die!

26
'Wha was your father, my girl,' she says,
'Or wha was your mother?
Or had you ever a sister dear,
Or had you ever a brother?'

27
'King Henry was my father dear,
Queen Easter was my mother,
Prince Henry was my brother dear,
And Fanny Flower my sister.'

28
'If King Henry was your father dear,
And Queen Easter was your mother,
And Prince Henry was your brother dear,
Then surely I'm your sister.

29
'Come to your bed, my sister dear,
It neer was wrangd for me,
But an ae kiss of his merry mouth,
As we cam owre the sea.'

30
'Awa, awa, ye forenoon bride,
Awa, awa frae me!
I wudna hear my Annie greet,
For a' the gold I got wi thee.'

31
'There was five ships of gay red gold
Came owre the seas with me;
It's twa o them will take me hame,
And three I'll leave wi thee.

32
'Seven ships o white money
Came owre the seas wi me;
Five o them I'll leave wi thee,
And twa'll tak me hame,
And my mother will mak my portion up,
When I return again.'

G

Communicated by Miss Margaret Reburn, as current in
County Meath, Ireland, 1860-70.

1
She served them up, she served them down,
She served them up with wine,
But still she drank the clear spring water,
To keep her color fine.

2
'I must get up, she must sit down,
She must sit in my place,
Or else be torn by wild horses
And thrown over the gates.'

3
'You wont get up, she wont sit down,
She wont sit in your place,
Nor yet be torn by wild horses.
Nor thrown over the gates.'

4
She called up her seven sons,
By one, by two, by three:
'I wish you were all seven gray-hounds,
This night to worry me.'

5
'What ails you, fair Ellen? what ails you, fair?
Or why do you sigh and moan?'
'The hoops are off my wine hogsheads,
And my wine is overflown.'

H

From Dr Thomas Davidson. Aberdeenshire.

1
'But wha will bake my bridal bread,
An brew my bridal ale,
And wha will welcome my bride hame,
Is mair than I can tell.'

2
'It's I will bake your bridal bread,
And brew your bridal ale,
But wha will welcome your bride hame,
It'll need tae be yersel.'

3
An she's hung up a silken towel
Upon a golden pin,
... tae wipe her een,
As she gaed but and ben.

I

Kinloch MSS, I, 155, May, 1827. "Composed of three
recited versions obtained in the west of Scotland."

1
'Learn to mak your bed, Annie,
And learn to lie your lane;
For I am gaing oure the saut seas,
A brisk bride to bring hame.

2
'Wi her I will get gowd and gear;
Wi thee I neer gat nane;
I got thee as a waif woman,
I'll leave thee as the same.

3
'O wha will bake my bridal bread,
Or brew my bridal ale?
Or wha welcome my brisk bride,
That I'll bring oure the dale?'

4
'O I will bake your bridal bread,
And brew your bridal ale;
But I downa welcam your brisk bride
That ye'll bring frae the dale.'

5
'She that welcomes my brisk bride,
She maun look maiden-like;
She maun kaim doun her yellow locks,
And lay them in her neck.'

6
'O how can I look maiden-like,
Whan maiden I am nane?
For seven sons I hae born to thee,
And the eighth lies in my wame.

7
'But what aileth thee at me, my lord,
What aileth thee at me,
Whan seven braw sons I've born to thee,
Out of my fair bodie?

8
'The first ane of your sons, my lord,
Can baith read and write;
And the second of your sons, my lord,
Can do it maist perfyte.

9
'The third ane o your sons, my lord,
Can water your grey steed;
And the fourth ane o your sons, my lord,
Can bake your bridal bread.

10
'The fifth ane o your sons, my lord,
Can serve ye whan ye dine;
And the sixth ane o your sons, my lord,
Can brew your bridal wine.

11
'The seventh ane o your sons, my lord,
Lies close at my breist-bane;
Whan a' the lave are fast asleep,
It's rest I can get nane.'

12
He set his foot into the stirrup,
His hand upon the mane;
Says, It will be year and day, ladie,
Ere ye see me again.

13
Whan he had ae foot on the sea,
The ither on dry lan,
'It will be year and day, ladie,
Till I come back again.'

14
Whan year and day war past and gane,
Fair Annie she thought lang;
And she went up to her hie tower,
Wi a silk seam in her hand.

15
She lookit east, she lookit west,
And south, below the sun,
And there she spied her ain gude lord,
Coming sailing to the lan.

16
She called up her seven braw sons,
By ane, twa, and by three:
'See, yonder comes your father,
And your mother-for-to-be.'

17
And she called up her servants a':
'O come, behold and see!
O yonder comes your master dear,
And a new mistress brings he.

18
'Gae doun, gae doun, my eldest son,
Into the outmost ha,
And if ye welcome ane o them,
Be sure to welcome a'.'

19
Some ran east, and some ran west,
And some ran to the sea;
There was na ane in a' his house
To welcome his new ladie.

20
But Annie's to her coffer gane,
Tane out a silver kaim,
And she's kaimd doun her yellow hair,
As she a maid had been.

21
And Annie has kaimd her lang yellow locks,
And laid them in her neck;
And she's awa to the saut, saut sea,
To welcome his lady aff deck.

22
She durst na ca him her ain gude lord,
For angering o the bride;
But she did ca him master dear,
And I wat he was richt glad.

23
'You're welcome, you're welcome, master,' she said,
'To your halls bot an your bouers;
And sae are a' thir merry young men
That come alang with you.

24
'You're welcome, you're welcome, fair ladie,
To your halls but an your bouers;
And sae are a' thir gay ladies;
For a' that's here is yours.'

25
'I thank ye, I thank ye, fair maiden,
I thank ye kindlie;
If I be lang about this house,
Rewarded ye sall be.

26
'I have a brither o mine ain;
He's newly come frae sea;
I think it wad be a richt gude match
To marry him and thee.'

27
'I thank ye, I thank ye, fair ladie;
Gie your brither to whom like ye;
But there's never ane in this warld
My wedding day sall see:
But one word o my master dear
In private wad I be.'

* * * * * * *

28
The first dish that fair Annie set doun,
She lookit baith pale and wan;
The neist dish that fair Annie set doun,
She was scarce able to stan.

29
'O is this your mistress, good lord,' she says,
'Although she looks modest and mild?
Then we will hunt her frae our house
Wi dogs and hawks sae wild.'

30
'She's na my mistress, dear lady,' he says,
'Altho she looks modest and mild;
Nor will we hunt her frae our house
Wi dogs and hawks sae wild.'

31
Whan bells war rung, and mass was sung,
And a' men boun for bed,
The bonnie bride and the bridegroom
In bride's bed they were laid.

32
Whan dinner was past, and supper was by,
And a' were boun for bed,
Fair Annie and her seven sons
In a puir bye-chamber war laid.

33
Fair Annie took out her virginals,
And sadly did she play;
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .

34
'O gin my sons were yon grey rats,
That climb the castle-wa,
And I mysel a bloody grey cat,
I'd rise and worry them a'.'

35
Then out and spak the bonny bride,
In bride's bed whare she lay:
'I think this is like my sister Anne,
That doth sae sadly play.'

36
'Lie still, lie still, my gay ladie,
Lie still and sleep a wee;
It's nathing but an auld servant,
That waileth sae for me.'

37
'O gin my seven sons were seven young hares,
That rin round the castle wa,
And I mysel a bluidy grewhund,
I wad rise and worry them a'.'

38
The new bride waukenit in the nicht,
And blew upon her horn:
'I think I hear my sister's voice,
That was stown frae us a bairn.'

39
'Sleep on, sleep on, dear lady,' he says,
'It's yon maiden in her dream,
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .

40
'O wha was eer thy father, fair maid,
Or wha was eer thy mither?
Or wha was eer thy ae sister,
Or wha was eer thy brither?'

41
'King Henry was my father,' she said,
'Queen Elinore was my mither;
Fair Marion was my ae sister,
Earl Robert was my brither.'

42
'Sin King Henry was your father, fair maid,
And Queen Elinore your mither,
O I am een your ae sister,
And ye are just the ither.

43
'Come to your bed, fair Annie,' she said,
'Come to your bed full sune;
I may weel say, I daur weel say,
There is na evil dune.

44
'Seven ships of gold did bring me here,
But ane shall tak me hame;
Six I will leave to my sister Anne,
To bring up her children young.

45
'But whan I gang to my father's ha,
And tirl on the pin,
The meanest in a' my father's house
Will ca me a forsaken ane.'

J

Buchan's MSS, I, 66.

1
'Learn, O learn, Fair Annie,' he said,
'O learn to lie your lane;
For I am going ower the sea,
To woo and to bring hame

2
'A brighter and a fairer dame
Than ever ye hae been;
For I am going ower the sea,
To chuse and bring her hame.'

3
'What aileth thee, my ain gude lord,
What aileth thee at me?
For seven braw sons hae I born
Unto your fair bodie.

4
'The eldest o your sons, my lord,
Is heir o a' your land;
The second o your braw young sons
He rises at your right hand.

5
'The third o your braw young sons
He serves you when you dine;
The fourth o your braw sons, my lord,
He brings to you the wine.

6
'The fifth o your braw young sons
Right well can use the pen;
The sixth o your braw young sons,
He's travelling but and ben.

7
'The seventh o your braw young sons,
He lies on my breast-bane,
The fairest flower amo them a',
That lay my sides between.'

8
'But I am going ower the sea,
To woo and to bring hame
A lady wi some gowd and gear;
Wi you I never got nane.'

9
'Ye staw me awa in twall years auld,
Ye sought nae gowd wi me;
Ye put me to the schools o Ayr
For fully years three.

10
'But wha'll be cook in your kitchen,
And butler in your ha?
And wha will govern your merry young men,
When ye are far awa?'

11
'O ye'll be cook in my kitchen,
And butler in my ha,
And ye'll wait on my merry young men,
And serve them ane and a'.'

12
'But wha will bake your bridal bread,
And wha will brew your ale?
And wha will welcome that lady
That ye bring ower the dale?

13
'O ye will bake my bridal bread,
And ye will brew my ale,
And ye will welcome that lady
That I bring ower the dale.

14
'Ye'll bake bread, and ye'll brew ale,
For three score knights and ten;
That day month I gang awa,
The same day I'll come again.'

15
'O I will bake your bridal bread,
And I will brew your ale;
But oh, to welcome another woman
My heart will nae be hale.'

16
'Ye will put roses in your hair,
And ribbons in your sheen,
And ye will look fair maiden like,
Though maiden ye be nane.'

17
'O I'll put roses in my hair,
And ribbons in my sheen,
And may be look as maiden-like
As the bride ye bring hame.'

18
Two of his sons he sent before,
And two rade by his side,
And three he left at hame wi her,
She was the brightest bride.

19
As she was gazing her around,
To view the rural plain,
And there she saw the bridal folk,
Merrily coming hame.

20
'Come here, come here, my boys a',
Ye see not what I see;
For here I see your fair father,
And a step-mother to thee.

21
'O shall I call him honey, Sandy,
Husband, or my gude lord?
Or shall I call him my gude master,
Let well or woe betide?'

22
'Ye winna call him honey, mother,
For angering o the bride;
But ye'll call him your gude master,
Let well or woe betide.'

23
She buskd her bonny boys in black,
Herself in simple green,
A kaim o gowd upon her hair,
As maiden she had been.

24
She's taen the white bread in her lap,
The wine glass in her hand,
And she's gane out upo the green,
To welcome the bride hame.

25
She woudna ca him her ain gude lord,
For angering o the bride:
'Ye're welcome hame, my gude master,
Your lands lie braid and wide.'

26
'O fair mat fa you, Fair Annie,
Sae well's ye've welcomd me;
Ye might hae welcomd my new bride;
Some gift to you she'll gie.'

27
'Ye're welcome hame, ye new-come bride,
To your ha's and your bowers;
Ye're welcome hame, my lady gay,
Ye're whiter than the flowers.'

28
'O wha is this,' the bride did say,
'Sae well that welcomes me?
If I'm lang lady o this place
Some gift to her I'll gie.

29
'She's likest to my dear sister
That eer my eyes did see;
A landit lord staw her awa,
An ill death mat he die!

30
'I hae a brother here this day,
Fairer ye neer did see;
And I woud think nae ill a match
Unto this fair ladie.'

31
'Ye'll wed your brother on a stock,
Sae do ye on a stane;
I'll wed me to the kingdom of heaven,
For I'll neer wed a man.'

32
She servd the footmen o the beer,
The nobles o the wine;
But nane did cross her pale, pale lips,
For changing o her min.

33
When she came in unto the room
She leuch amo them a',
But when she turnd her back about
She loot the saut tears fa.

34
She hanged up a silken cloath
Upon a siller pin;
It was to dry her twa blue eyes,
As she went out and in.

35
Her heart wi sorrow sair was filld,
Her breast wi milk ran out;
She aft went to a quiet chamber,
And let her young son suck.

36
'There is a woman in this house
This day has served me;
But I'll rise up, let her sit down,
She's ate, that I may see.

37
'O wha is this,' the bride coud say,
'That serves this day sae well?
And what means a' this bonny boys,
That follow at her heel?'

38
'This is my sister, Fair Annie,
That serves this day sae well,
And these are a' her bauld brothers,
That follow at her heel.'

39
Then out it speaks the new-come bride,
Was full o jealousie:
'I fear there's something new, my lord,
Ye mean to hide frae me.

40
'But if she be your light leman
Has me sae sair beguild,
She shall gae out at my window,
And range the woods sae wild.'

41
When day was dane, and night drew on,
And a' man bound for bed,
The bridegroom and the new-come bride
In ae chamber were laid.

42
The lady being left alone,
Nursing her fair young son,
She has taen up her gude lord's harp,
She harped and she sung.

43
'Seven braw sons hae I born
To the lord o this place;
I wish they were seven hares
To run the castle race,
And I mysel a gude greyhound,
To gie them a' a chace.'

44
'Lie near, lie near, my ain gude lord,
Lie near and speak wi me;
There is a woman in the house,
She will be wild ere day.'

45
'Lie still, lie still, my new-come bride,
Lie still and take your rest;
The pale's out o my wine-puncheon,
And lang it winna rest.'

46
She held the harp still in her hand,
To harp them baith asleep,
And aye she harped and she sang,
And saut tears she did weep.

47
'Seven braw sons hae I born
To the gude lord o this ha;
I wish that they were seven brown rats,
To climb the castle wa,
And I mysel a gude grey cat,
To take them ane and a'.'

48
'Lie near, lie near, my ain gude lord,
Lie near and speak wi me;
There is a woman in this house,
She will be wild ere day.'

49
'Lie yond, lie yond, my new-come bride,
My sheets are wonderous cauld;
I woudna hear my love's lament
For your gowd ten thousand fauld.'

50
'O wae be to you, ye fause lord,
Some ill death mat ye die!
For that's the voice o my sister Ann,
Was stown frae yont the sea.'

51
'Fair mat fa ye, ye buirdly bride,
A gude death mat ye die!
For that's the voice o your sister Ann,
Was stown frae yont the sea;
I came seeking Annie's tocher,
I was not seeking thee.'

52
'Seven gude ships I hae brought here,
In seven I'se gae hame;
And a' the gowd that I brought here,
It's a' gang back again.'

53
'Seven ships they brought you here,
But ye'll gang hame in ane;
Ye'll leave the rest to tocher Ann,
For wi her I got nane.'

54
'Seven ships they brought me here,
But I'll gang hame in ane;
I'll get my sister's eldest son
To hae me maiden hame.

55
'My father wants not gowd nor gear,
He will get me a man;
And happy, happy will he be
To hear o his daughter Ann.

56
'I hae my sheen upon my feet,
My gloves upon my hand,
And ye'll come to your bed, Annie,
For I've dane you nae wrang.'

* * * * *

#C.#

'Fair Annie' I took this day from the recitation of
Janet Holmes, an old woman in Kilbarchan. It was, as she
described it, a "lang rane" of her mother's. July 18,
1825. _Motherwell._

1^1. honey _is probably a corruption of_ Annie.

5^4. his wig.

19^3. I _must be understood_, I as leal, _but does not
require to be inserted_.

20^4. _Possibly not correct._ To all _would, no doubt, be
an easy reading, but the abrupt exclamation is more like
nature_.

29^1. Oh.

#E.#

11^2. laugh.

14^3. harpd.

20^1. you hame.

#F.#

12^3. Oh.

22^3. Ye wilt.

#I.#

28^1. sat.

45^2. tirls.

41 ff. _In one of the Kinloch versions thus:_

'King Henry is my father,' she says,
'Queen Orvis is my mither,
And a' the bairns about the house
Are just my sister and brither.'

'O if ye be ane o thae, Fair Anne,
Sure I'm ane o' the same,
And come to your gude lord, Anne,
And be ye blythe again.

'For he never wed me for his love,
But for my tocher fee,
And I am as free o him this day
As the bairn on the nurse's knee.'

#J.#

36^2. hae served.

_The following more obvious and entirely superfluous
interpolations have been omitted from the text._

_After 9:_

But ye were feard the Duke of York
Should come and bide wi me,
As he showed kindness and respect,
Which greatly grieved thee.

_After 18:_

But it fell ance upon a day,
'T was aye day by it lane,
Fair Annie was washing her fingers,
Above a marble stane.

_After 28:_

O he that staw my ae sister
Did leave my bower full bare;
I wish a sharp sword at his breast,
Cauld iron be his share!

He looked ower his right shoulder,
A light laugh then gie he;
Said, Hear na ye my new-come bride,
Sae sair as she brands me?

The bride she patted wi her lips,
She winked wi her ee,
Yet never thought by the words he spake
'T was her sister, Annie.

_After 35:_

When they had eaten and well drunken,
And all had fared fine,
The knight he called his butlers all,
For to serve out the wine.

_After 38:_

Then out it speaks an English lord,
A smart young lord was he:
'O if she be a maiden fair,
Wi her I'se wedded be.'

The bridegroom gae a laugh at that
Amang his merry young men;
Says, There's a hynd chiel in the house
Runs far nearer her mind.

_After 53:_

O if this be my sister dear,
It's welcome news to me;
I woud hae gien her thrice as much
Her lovely face to see.

[72] #F# 2 reads, "Bind up your hair, and tie it in your neck," which is deceptive. It was an imperative custom, as is well known, that the married woman should bind up her hair or wear it under a cap, while a maid wore it loose or in a braid; a yard long, like Chaucer's Emily, if she had as much. See #D# 3, #E# 3, #I# 5, and Prior's Danish Ballads, II, 180 f.

[73] And John Armstrang her eldest brother, #C# 30: so the Scottish king was right when he weened Johnie was a king as well as he.

[74] "The tradition which commonly accompanies this tale," says Jamieson, Popular Ballads, II, 83, "says that he was aware of his bride's being the sister of his mistress, and that he had courted her, not with a view of retaining her as his wife, but of securing from her father a portion for Lady Jane, whom he intended to marry:" a canny project adopted into the degenerate and interpolated #J# (st. 53), but rather too sharp practice for an old ballad.

[75] The boys are all dressed in scarlet red in Danish #E# 24, #F# 27, #H# 21; so in English #E# 6, but in #J# 23 in black.

[76]

And the young bride throws down a half gold-ring,
Fair Annie she throws down the other,
And a pair of loving sisters were they,
And the rings they ran together.

Swedish #B# 32.

[77] Vorige span, sts 14,15, for which Hoffmann reads voorgespan, meaning a fore-span. A span of horses is as absurd here as possible, but is adopted in the German version, and made to point a gibe at the king. It would seem that the Dutch _voorspan_, brooch or clasp, German spange (see Hexham's Dictionary, 1658), must have been for some time obsolete. In Richthofen's Altfriesisches Wörterbuch we find simply _span, spon_: "verstanden ist darunter ein goldener Schmuck den die friesischen Weiber _vor_ der Brust trugen." Stanza 15 is interpreted accordingly.

[78] "Voorgespan" again.

[79] Roquefort, Poésies de Marie de France, I, 138. There is a highly felicitous old English translation, unfortunately somewhat defective: Weber, Metrical Romances, I, 357, Ellis's Specimens, III, 282, what is missing being supplied in each case from the French.

[80] For this idea see Grimm's Rechtsalterthümer, p. 456 of the 2d ed., and Deutsche Sagen, 515, 534, 571; the English romance of Octavian, Weber, III, 162, vv 127-132, the French, in Conybeare's abridgment, p. 3, reprint of the Aungervyle Society, p. 23; the volksbuch Kaiser Octavianus, Simrock, II, 244; the Spanish ballad 'Espinelo,' Duran, I, 177, No 323, and again a 16th century ballad of Timoneda, II, 392, No 1346. This last may be the foundation of a broadside in the Pepys collection, I, 40, No 18: "The Lamenting Lady, who, for wrongs done by her to a poor woman for having two children at one burthen, was by the hand of God most strangely punished by sending her as many children at one birth as there are days in the year." But we have the same miracle in Grimm's Deutsche Sagen, No 578. Further, Grundtvig, V, 386, 'Grevens Datter af Vendel,' No 258, #E# 1; Li Reali di Francia, l. II, c. 42, p 180 of the edition of Venice, 1821. (Grundtvig.)

[81] 'Las dos Hermanas,' Catalan, Castilian, Asturian. Milá, Observaciones, p. 117, No 19,==Briz, II, 159; p. 124, No 24,==Primavera, II, 38, No 130; Briz, II, 161. Milá, Romancerillo, p. 214, No 242, #A-E#, p. 216, No 242. Amador de los Rios, Historia de la Lit. Esp., VII, 455 f. Portuguese. 'Rainha e Captiva,' Almeida-Garrett, II, 193, No 11, 2d ed.; 'Romance de Branca-Flor,' Braga, Romanceiro Geral, p. 103, No 38; Romanceiro da Madeira, p. 211; Roméro e Braga, Cantos populares do Brazil, I, 41 ff, Nos 22, 23, II, 203. In some of these the queen identifies the captive by overhearing, while she lies in bed, words said or sung by her sister. In Chodzko, Chants de l'Ukraine, p. 88, No 17, the captive sister is replaced by a (Polish) mother in slavery among the Turks.

63

CHILD WATERS

#A.# 'Childe Waters,' Percy MS., p. 274; Hales and
Furnival, II, 269.

#B. a.# 'Burd Ellen,' Jamieson's Brown MS., fol. 22. #b.#
'Lord John and Bird Ellen,' A. Fraser Tytler's Brown MS.,
No 9.

#C.# 'Lady Margaret,' Kinloch's annotated copy of his
Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 180.

#D.# Kinloch MSS, VII, 325.

#E.# 'Fair Margaret,' Harris MS., No 8, p. 12 b.

#F.# Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 114, from Mrs Arrot
of Arberbrothick.

#G.# 'Cruel William,' Buchan's MSS, II, 129.

#H.# 'Burd Alone,' Motherwell's MS., p. 277.

#I.# Communicated by Dr Davidson, derived from Old Deer,
Aberdeenshire.

#J.# 'Burd Helen,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of
Scotland, II, 30.

#A# was printed in Percy's Reliques, III, 58, ed. 1765, with comparatively few changes. #B a# was published by Jamieson, from Mrs Brown's manuscript, in his Popular Ballads, I, 113, with some slight variation from the text, many acknowledged interpolations, and the addition of three sentimental stanzas to make Burd Ellen die just as her enduring all things is to be rewarded. In this tragic close, Jamieson was anticipated by Mrs Hampden Pye, in her 'Earl Walter,' 1771, Evans's Old Ballads, II, 208, 1777. #C# is given as it appears in Kinloch's annotated copy of his Ancient Scottish Ballads, where ten stanzas are inserted to enlarge and complete the copy published in 1827. This enlarged copy was communicated to Chambers, and seven of the supplementary stanzas were introduced into his compilation, The Scottish Ballads, p. 193. These supplementary stanzas, some of them certainly, and we may suppose all, belonged to a copy of which only the concluding portion, here given as #D#, is elsewhere preserved.

The variations in the several versions of this charming ballad, which has perhaps no superior in English, and if not in English perhaps nowhere,[82] are not material, and the story may therefore be given as it runs in #A#, the oldest copy. Fair Ellen comes to Child Waters, and tells him that her gown, which was too wide, is now too narrow. He bids her be content and take two shires of land; she would rather have one kiss from his mouth than Cheshire and Lancashire both. He must ride far into the North the next day; she asks to be his foot-page. This she may be if she will shorten her gown and clip her locks, so as not to be known for a woman. He rides hard all day, and she keeps up with him barefoot. They come to a broad piece of salt water; he lets her get through as she can, but Our Lady bears up her chin. Then he points out a splendid hall, where are four and twenty ladies, and the fairest is his love and wife. God give both good! is all she says. Arrived there, Ellen takes his horse to the stable. At bed-time he sends her to the town, to bring him the fairest lady that can be found, to sleep in his arms, and to bring this lady in _her_ arms, for filing of her feet. Ellen lies at the foot of the bed, for want of other place, and before dawn is roused by Child Waters to feed his horse. The pains of travail come on her in the stable; Child Waters' mother hears her moans, and bids him get up. He stands at the stable-door and listens. Ellen sings:

Lullaby, dear child, dear!
I would thy father were a king,
Thy mother laid on a bier!

This moves even his sturdy heart; he tells Ellen to be of good cheer, for the bridal and the churching shall both be on one day.

In #B#, #C#, #E#, #G#, #I#, #J# the man relents so far as, when they are in the water, to ask her to ride. She will not, #C#, #E#, #I#; he takes her on at a stone which stands in the middle of the stream, #B#, #G#, #J#. The stream is Clyde in #B#, #C#, #E#, #G#, #J#; the Tay in #I#. In #C#, #E#, #F#, #H# he tells her after they have passed the water, that it is three and thirty miles to his house; a (poetically) superfluous and meddling parrot says it is but three. In #C#, #G# he tells her that she will have a serving-man for a husband, and in #H# that he has already wife and bairns.

One stroke in #A#, the sending of Ellen to fetch a woman from the town, is wanting in the other versions, decidedly to their advantage. This exaggeration of insult, submitting to which only degrades the woman, is paralleled, though not quite reached, by the paramour in the forest in the otherwise exquisitely refined tale of The Nut-Brown Maid. As for the ballad, the disagreeable passage may be an insertion of some unlucky singer, and the perfect truth to nature and remarkably high taste of The Nut-Brown Maid, in every other particular, would almost drive us to assume an interpolation in this case too.

#E# 1, 2, 16, #F# 2, 3 show contact with the ballad of 'Lizzie Lindsay;' the passing of the water, particularly in #E# 8-12, with 'The Knight and Shepherd's Daughter;' and again, #H# 21.

An exceedingly popular Scandinavian ballad is manifestly of the same source, though the story is told in a very different way, the cruel trials to which the woman's love is put being entirely lacking: #Danish#, 'Jomfru og Stalddreng,' Grundtvig, V, 171, No 267, #A-A#. #Swedish#, #A#, 'Liten Kerstin Stalldräng,' Afzelius, II, 15, No 33; #B#, 'Stolts Botelid Stalldräng,' Afzelius, II, 20, No 34; #C-E#, 'Liten Kerstin Stalldräng,' Arwidsson, II, 179, No 109, Hofberg's Nerikes gamla Minnen, p. 254, Öberg in Aminson, I, 28; #F-I#, from Cavallius and Stephens's manuscript collection, Grundtvig, V, 217 f; #J#, 'Liten Kerstin och Dane-Peter,' Wigström, Folkdiktning, #I#, 66, No 32. #Norwegian#, #A#, 'Liti Kersti som stalldreng,' Landstad, p. 605, No 78; #B-E#, Grundtvig, V, 218-20; #F#, Landstad, p. 605, note. (Several of these are only a verse or two.) Danish #A-F# are from manuscripts of the sixteenth or seventeenth century; #G# was printed at the end of the seventeenth; the other copies are from recent tradition, but nevertheless point to a higher antiquity than those which were taken down earlier. There is naturally much variation in details among so many copies, and it will be sufficient to indicate the general character of the story. A young woman, who may be called Kirstin, clips her hair and puts on man's clothes, seeks service at court, and is taken as stable-boy, at the instance of a man (often the king's son, or of other high rank) who may be called Peter, with whom she, in some copies, seems to have had a previous connection. Peter, as an accommodation, lets the stable-boy sleep with him. In the course of time Kirstin cannot do duty any more, cannot buckle on spurs, is ill and requires woman's assistance, which the queen renders. She gives birth to twins in the stable (among the horses' legs, as in English, #B# 30, #J# 30). A merry wedding follows.[83]

Another Scandinavian ballad has a limited resemblance to 'Child Waters:' #Danish#, 'Den trofaste Jomfru,' Grundtvig, IV, 494, No 249, #A-I#; 'Den fredløse,' Kristensen, II, 191, No 57 (A-C), #J-L#. #Swedish#, #A#, 'De Sju Gullbergen,' Afzelius, III, 71, No 79; #B#, #C#, from Cavallius and Stephens's collection, Grundtvig, IV, 507f. #Norwegian#, #A#, 'Herre Per og stolt Margit,' Landstad, p. 590, No 74; #B#, Herr' Nikelus, Landstad, p. 594, No 75. The ballad begins like Danish 'Ribold og Guldborg' and 'Kvindemorderen.' A knight carries off a maid, making her fine promises, among which gold castles commonly figure. He takes her over a very wide piece of water, an arm of the sea, on his horse in most versions; in Danish #B#, #K# they swim it. When they come to land, she asks Where are the promised castles? Danish #C#, #D#, #J#, #K#, #L#, Norwegian #A#, #B#. He tells her that he is a penniless outlaw (wanting in Swedish #A#, #C#); she offers the gold she has brought with her to buy him his peace (wanting in Swedish #A#, #C#, Norwegian #B#). He tells her he has another love; she is willing to be their servant (wanting in Danish #A#, #B#, #C#, #I#, Norwegian #B#). Here he ceases his trial of her; he is a royal, or very opulent, person, she is to have a troop of servants, the castles are not in the air, and all ends happily.

* * * * *

Percy's edition of #A# is translated (freely) by Bürger, 'Graf Walter,' and Bürger's version is revised, to bring it slightly nearer the original, by Bothe, Volkslieder, p. 199. Percy is translated by Bodmer, I, 41. #I# is translated by Gerhard, p. 117, and Aytoun's compilation, I, 239, by Knortz, Schottische Balladen, p. 11. The Danish ballad is translated by Prior, III, 25, after Danske Viser, IV, 116, Syv, Fourth Part, No 31, Grundtvig's #G c#.

A

Percy MS., p. 274; Hales and Furnivall, II, 269.

1
Childe Watters in his stable stoode,
And stroaket his milke-white steede;
To him came a ffaire young ladye
As ere did weare womans wee[de].

2
Saies, Christ you saue, good Chyld Waters!
Sayes, Christ you saue and see!
My girdle of gold, _whi_ch was too longe,
Is now to short ffor mee.

3
'And all is with one chyld of yours,
I ffeele sturre att my side;
My gowne of greene, it is to strayght;
Before it was to wide.'

4
'If the child be mine, Faire Ellen,' he sayd,
'Be mine, as you tell mee,
Take you Cheshire and Lancashire both,
Take them yo_u_r owne to bee.

5
'If the child be mine, Ffaire Ellen,' he said,
'Be mine, as you doe sweare,
Take you Cheshire and Lancashire both,
And make _tha_t child yo_u_r heyre.'

6
Shee saies, I had rather haue one kisse,
Child Waters, of thy mouth,
Then I wold haue Cheshire and Lancashire both,
_Tha_t lyes by north and south.

7
'And I had rather haue a twinkling,
Child Waters, of yo_u_r eye,
Then I wold haue Cheshire and Lancashire both,
To take them mine oune to bee.'

8
'To-morrow, Ellen, I must forth ryde
Soe ffarr into the north countrye;
The ffairest lady _tha_t I can ffind,
Ellen, must goe w_i_th mee.'
'And euer I pray you, Child Watters,
Yo_u_r ffootpage let me bee!'

9
'If you will my ffootpage be, Ellen,
As you doe tell itt mee,
Then you must cutt your gownne of greene
An inche aboue yo_u_r knee.

10
'Soe must you doe yo_u_r yellow lockes,
Another inch aboue yo_u_r eye;
You must tell noe man what is my name;
My ffootpage then you shall bee.'

11
All this long day Child Waters rode,
Shee ran bare ffoote by his side;
Yett was he neu_er_ soe curteous a k_nigh_t
To say, Ellen, will you ryde?

12
But all this day Child Waters rode,
Shee ran barffoote thorow the broome;
Yett he was neu_er_ soe curteous a k_nigh_t
As to say, Put on yo_u_r shoone.

13
'Ride softlye,' shee said, 'Child Watters;
Why doe you ryde soe ffast?
The child w_hi_ch is no mans but yours
My bodye itt will burst.'

14
He sayes, Sees thou yonder water, Ellen,
_Tha_t fflowes from banke to brim?
'I trust to god, Child Waters,' shee said,
'You will neuer see mee swime.'

15
But when shee came to the waters side,
Shee sayled to the chinne:
'Except the lo_rd_ of heauen be my speed,
Now must I learne to swime.'

16
The salt waters bare vp Ellens clothes,
Our Ladye bare vpp he[r] chinne,
And Child Waters was a woe man, good Lo_rd_,
To ssee Faire Ellen swime.

17
And when shee ouer the water was,
Shee then came to his knee:
He said, Come hither, Ffaire Ellen,
Loe yonder what I see!

18
'Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen?
Of redd gold shine the yates;
There's four and twenty ffayre ladyes,
The ffairest is my wordlye make.

19
'Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen?
Of redd gold shineth the tower;
There is four and twenty ffaire ladyes,
The fairest is my paramoure.'

20
'I doe see the hall now, Child Waters,
_Tha_t of redd gold shineth the yates;
God giue good then of yo_u_r selfe,
And of yo_u_r wordlye make!

21
'I doe see the hall now, Child Waters,
_Tha_t of redd gold shineth the tower;
God giue good then of yo_u_r selfe,
And of yo_u_r paramoure!'

22
There were four and twenty ladyes,
Were playing att the ball,
And Ellen, was the ffairest ladye,
Must bring his steed to the stall.

23
There were four and twenty faire ladyes
Was playing att the chesse;
And Ellen, shee was the ffairest ladye,
Must bring his horsse to grasse.

24
And then bespake Child Waters sister,
And these were the words said shee:
You haue the prettyest ffootpage, brother,
_Tha_t euer I saw w_i_th mine eye;

25
'But _tha_t his belly it is soe bigg,
His girdle goes wonderous hye;
And eu_er_ I pray you, Child Waters,
Let him goe into the chamber w_i_th mee.'

26
'It is more meete for a little ffootpage,
_Tha_t has run through mosse and mire,
To take his supper vpon his knee
And sitt downe by the kitchin fyer,
Then to goe into the chamber w_i_th any ladye
That weares soe [rich] attyre.'

27
But when thé had supped euery one,
To bedd they took the way;
He sayd, Come hither, my little footpage,
Harken what I doe say.

28
And goe thee downe into yonder towne,
And low into the street;
The ffairest ladye _that_ thou can find,
Hyer her in mine armes to sleepe,
And take her vp in thine armes two,
For filinge of her ffeete.

29
Ellen is gone into the towne,
And low into the streete;
The fairest ladye _tha_t shee cold find
Shee hyred in his armes to sleepe,
And tooke her in her armes two,
For filing of her ffeete.

30
'I pray you now, good Child Waters,
_That_ I may creepe in att yo_u_r bedds feete;
For there is noe place about this house
Where I may say a sleepe.'

31
This [night] and itt droue on affterward
Till itt was neere the day:
He sayd, Rise vp, my litle ffoote-page,
And giue my steed corne and hay;
And soe doe thou the good blacke oates,
_Tha_t he may carry me the better away.

32
And vp then rose Ffaire Ellen,
And gaue his steed corne and hay,
And soe shee did and the good blacke oates,
_Tha_t he might carry him the better away.

33
Shee layned her backe to the manger side,
And greiuouslye did groane;
And _tha_t beheard his mother deere,
And heard her make her moane.

34
Shee said, Rise vp, thou Child Waters,
I thinke thou art a cursed man;
For yonder is a ghost in thy stable,
_Tha_t greiuouslye doth groane,
Or else some woman laboures of child,
Shee is soe woe begone.

35
But vp then rose Child Waters,
And did on his shirt of silke;
Then he put on his other clothes
On his body as white as milke.

36
And when he came to the stable-dore,
Full still _tha_t hee did stand,
_Tha_t hee might heare now Faire Ellen,
How shee made her monand.

37
Shee said, Lullabye, my owne deere child!
Lullabye, deere child, deere!
I wold thy father were a king,
Thy mother layd on a beere!

38
'Peace now,' he said, 'good Faire Ellen,
And be of good cheere, I thee pray,
And the bridall and the churching both,
They shall bee vpon one day.'

B

#a.# Jamieson's Brown MS., fol. 22, taken down from Mrs
Brown's recitation before 1783. #b.# A. Fraser Tytler's
Brown MS., No 9, as recited by Mrs Brown in 1800.

1
'I warn ye all, ye gay ladies,
That wear scarlet an brown,
That ye dinna leave your father's house,
To follow young men frae town.'

2
'O here am I, a lady gay,
That wears scarlet an brown,
Yet I will leave my father's house,
An follow Lord John frae the town.'

3
Lord John stood in his stable-door,
Said he was bound to ride;
Burd Ellen stood in her bowr-door,
Said she'd rin by his side.

4
He's pitten on his cork-heeld shoone,
An fast awa rade he;
She's clade hersel in page array,
An after him ran she.

5
Till they came till a wan water,
An folks do ca it Clyde;
Then he's lookit oer his left shoulder,
Says, Lady, can ye wide?

6
'O I learnt it i my father house,
An I learnt it for my weal,
Wenneer I came to a wan water,
To swim like ony eel.'

7
But the firstin stap the lady stappit,
The water came til her knee;
'Ohon, alas!' said the lady,
'This water's oer deep for me.'

8
The nextin stap the lady stappit,
The water came till her middle;
An sighin says that gay lady,
I've wat my gouden girdle

9
The nextin stap the lady stappit,
The water came till her pap;
An the bairn that was in her twa sides
For caul begane to quake.

10
'Lye still, lye still, my ain dear babe,
Ye work your mither wae;
Your father rides on high horse-back,
Cares little for us twae.'

11
O about the midst o Clyden water
There was a yeard-fast stane;
He lightly turnd his horse about,
An took her on him behin.

12
'O tell me this now, good Lord John,
An a word ye dinna lee,
How far it is to your lodgin,
Whare we this night maun be?'

13
'O see you nae yon castle, Ellen,
That shines sae fair to see?
There is a lady in it, Ellen,
Will sunder you an me.

14
'There is a lady in that castle
Will sunder you and I:'
'Betide me well, betide me wae,
I sal go there an try.'

15
'O my dogs sal eat the good white bread,
An ye sal eat the bran;
Then will ye sigh, an say, alas!
That ever I was a man!'

16
'O I sal eat the good white bread,
An your dogs sal eat the bran;
An I hope to live an bless the day,
That ever ye was a man.'

17
'O my horse sal eat the good white meal,
An ye sal eat the corn;
Then will ye curse the heavy hour
That ever your love was born.'

18
'O I sal eat the good white meal,
An your horse sal eat the corn;
An I ay sall bless the happy hour
That ever my love was born.'

19
O four an twenty gay ladies
Welcomd Lord John to the ha,
But a fairer lady then them a'
Led his horse to the stable sta.

20
An four an twenty gay ladies
Welcomd Lord John to the green,
But a fairer lady than them a'
At the manger stood alane.

21
Whan bells were rung, an mass was sung,
An a' men boun to meat,
Burd Ellen at a bye-table
Amo the foot-men was set.

22
'O eat an drink, my bonny boy,
The white bread an the beer:'
'The never a bit can I eat or drink,
My heart's sae full of fear.'

23
'O eat an drink, my bonny boy,
The white bread an the wine:'
'O I canna eat nor drink, master,
My heart's sae full of pine.'

24
But out it spake Lord John's mother,
An a wise woman was she:
'Whare met ye wi that bonny boy,
That looks sae sad on thee?

25
'Sometimes his cheek is rosy red,
An sometimes deadly wan;
He's liker a woman big wi bairn,
Than a young lord's serving man.'

26
'O it makes me laugh, my mother dear,
Sic words to hear frae thee;
He is a squire's ae dearest son,
That for love has followd me.

27
'Rise up, rise up, my bonny boy,
Gi my horse corn an hay:'
'O that I will, my master dear,
As quickly as I may.'

28
She's taen the hay under her arm,
The corn intill her han,
An she's gane to the great stable,
As fast as eer she can.

29
'O room ye roun, my bonny broun steeds,
O room ye near the wa;
For the pain that strikes me thro my sides
Full soon will gar me fa.'

30
She's leand her back against the wa;
Strong travail seizd her on;
An even amo the great horse feet
Burd Ellen brought forth her son.

31
Lord John'[s] mither intill her bowr
Was sitting all alone,
Whan, i the silence o the night,
She heard fair Ellen's moan.

32
'Won up, won up, my son,' she says,
'Go se how a' does fare;
For I think I hear a woman's groans,
An a bairn greeting sair.'

33
O hastily he gat him up,
Stayd neither for hose nor shoone,
An he's doen him to the stable-door,
Wi the clear light o the moon.

34
He strack the door hard wi his foot,
An sae has he wi his knee,
An iron locks an iron bars
Into the floor flung he:
'Be not afraid, Burd Ellen,' he says,
'Ther's nane come in but me.'

35
Up he has taen his bonny young son,
An gard wash him wi the milk;
An up has he taen his fair lady,
Gard row her in the silk.

36
'Cheer up your heart, Burd Ellen,' he says,
'Look nae mair sad nor wae;
For your marriage an your kirkin too
Sal baith be in ae day.'

C

Kinloch's annotated copy of his Ancient Scottish Ballads,
Kinloch MSS, IV, 180.

1
'The corn is turning ripe, Lord John,
The nuts are growing fu,
And ye are bound for your ain countrie,
Fain wad I go wi you.'

2
'Wi me, Margret, wi me, Margret,
What wad ye do wi me?
I've mair need o a pretty little boy,
To wait upon my steed.'

3
'It's I will be your pretty little boy,
To wait upon your steed;
And ilka town that we come to,
A pack of hounds I'll lead.'

4
'My hounds will eat o the bread o wheat,
And ye of the bread of bran;
And then you will sit and sigh,
That eer ye loed a man.'

5
The first water that they cam to,
I think they call it Clyde,
He saftly unto her did say,
Lady Margret, will ye ride?

6
The first step that she steppit in,
She steppit to the knee;
Says, Wae be to ye, waefu water,
For through ye I maun be.

7
The second step that she steppit in,
She steppit to the middle,
And sighd, and said, Lady Margaret,
'I've staind my gowden girdle.'

8
The third step that she steppit in,
She steppit to the neck;
The pretty babe within her sides,
The cauld it garrd it squake.

9
'Lie still my babe, lie still my babe,
Lie still as lang's ye may,
For your father rides on horseback high,
Cares little for us twae.'

10
It's whan she cam to the other side,
She sat doun on a stane;
Says, Them that made me, help me now,
For I am far frae hame.