Chapter IX: Appendix (4)

1
Livd ance twa luvers in yon dale,
And they luvd ither weel;
Frae evning late to morning aire
Of luving luvd their fill.

2
'Now, Willie, gif you luve me weel,
As sae it seems to me,
Gar build, gar build a bonny schip,
Gar build it speedilie.

3
'And we will sail the sea sae green,
Unto some far countrie,
Or we'll sail to some bonie isle,
Stands lanely midst the sea.'

4
But lang or ere the schip was built,
Or deckd, or rigged out,
Came sick a pain in Annet's back
That down she coud na lout.

5
'Now, Willie, gif ye luve me weel,
As sae it seems to me,
O haste, haste, bring me to my bowr,
And my bowr-maidens three.'

6
He's taen her in his arms twa,
And kissd her, cheik and chin;
He's brocht her to her ain sweet bowr,
But nae bowr-maid was in.

7
'Now leave my bower, Willie,' she said,
'Now leave me to my lane;
Was nevir man in a lady's bower
When she was travelling.'

8
He's stepped three steps down the stair,
Upon the marble stane;
Sae loud's he heard his young son's greet,
But and his lady's mane!

9
'Now come, now come, Willie,' she said,
'Tak your young son frae me,
And hie him to your mother's bower,
With speed and privacie.'

10
He's taen his young son in his arms,
He's kissd him, cheik and chin;
He's hied him to his mother's bower,
By th' ae light of the moon.

11
And with him came the bold barone,
And he spake up wi pride:
'Gar seek, gar seek the bower-maidens,
Gar busk, gar busk the bryde.'

12
'My maidens, easy with my back,
And easy with my side;
O set my saddle saft, Willie,
I am a tender bryde.'

13
When she came to the burrow-town,
They gied her a broch and ring,
And when she came to...,
They had a fair wedding.

14
O up then spake the norland lord,
And blinkit wi his ee:
'I trow this lady's born a bairn,'
Then laucht loud lauchters three.

15
And up then spake the brisk bridegroom,
And he spake up wi pryde:
'Gin I should pawn my wedding-gloves,
I will dance wi the bryde.'

16
'Now had your tongue, my lord,' she said,
'Wi dancing let me be;
I am sae thin in flesh and blude,
Sma dancing will serve me.'

17
But she's taen Willie be the hand,
The tear blinded her ee:
'But I wad dance wi my true-luve,
But bursts my heart in three.'

18
She's taen her bracelet frae her arm,
Her garter frae her knee:
'Gie that, gie that to my young son,
He'll neer his mother see.'

* * * * * * *

19
'Gar deal, gar deal the bread, mother,
Gar deal, gar deal the wyne;
This day hath seen my true-love's death,
This nicht shall witness myne.'

D

Motherwell's MS., p. 271, "from Margery Johnston, who had
it of her grand-aunt, a very old woman."

* * * * * * *

1
'It never was my mother's fashion,
As little will 't be mine,
For to hae gay lords within my room
When ladies are travailing.'

2
Lord William was scarsely down the stair,
A step but only ane,
Till he heard his auld son gie a cry,
And his lady a heavy maen.

3
'Turn back, turn back, Lord William,' she says,
'Take thy auld son in thy coat-neuk,
And see and reach thy mother's bowers
Twa hours before day comes.'

4
He's awa wi his auld son in his coat-neuk,
As fast as he can run,
And there he's reached his mother's bowers,
Twa hours before day came.

5
'O rise, O rise, my mother dear,
O rise and let me in,
For I've my auld son in my coat-neuk,
And he shivers at the chin.'

6
'Ye're welcome hame to me, Lord William,
And so is thy auld son;
It's where ye had but ae nourice,
Thy auld son he'll hae four.'

7
His lady was scarsely in her bed,
Nor well faln owre asleep,
When four and twenty knights and lords
Came for the bride at last.

8
They dressed her up, they dressed her down,
They dressed her wondrous fine,
And just before her ain bedside
She lost her colour clean.

9
'Be hooly wi my head, maidens,
Be hooly wi my hair,
For it was washen late last night,
And now it's very sair.'

10
Out then spoke a southern lord,
And oh but he spak bauld:
'She is the likest that bore a child
That eer my eyes did see.'

11
Up then spak her auld, auld father,
And oh he spoke in time:
'She neer bore a child since her birth
Except it was yestreen.'

12
Out then spoke a northern lord:
'It's bride, will ye dance wi me?'
'Oh no, oh no, you northland lord,
It's dancing's no for me.'

13
Out then spoke a southland lord:
'It's bride, will ye dance wi me?'
'Oh no, oh no, you southland lord,
I would as lief chuse to die.'

14
Out then spoke her ain bridegroom:
'O bride, will ye dance wi me?'
'Oh no, oh no, my ain bridegroom,
It's dancing's no for me.'

15
Out then spoke her ain Willy,
And oh he spoke fu fine:
'O bride, O bride, will ye dance wi me,'
. . . . . . .

16
'Oh yes, oh yes, Willie,' she said,
'It's I will dance with thee;
Oh yes, I'll dance, dear Willie,' she said,
'Tho my back it gaes in three.'

17
She leaned her head on Willie's breast,
And her back unto the wa:
'O there's the key of my coffer,
And pay weel the nouriss fee,
And aye when ye look on your auld son,
Ye may aye think on me.'

E

Kinloch MSS, V, 283, II, 41, from Mary Barr, Clydesdale.

1
Willie and Fair Janet
Sat a' day on yon hill;
And Janet she took sair pains,
And O but she grew ill.

2
'Fetch a woman to me, Willie,
O fetch a woman to me,
For without the help of woman, Willie,
Surely I will dee.'

3
'O tie a napkin on my face,
That naething I may see,
And what can a woman do, Janet,
But I will do for thee?'

* * * * * * *

4
She was na scarcely brought to bed,
Nor yet laid on her side,
Till in and cam her father there,
Crying, Fy, gae busk the bride.

5
'A wearyed bride am I, father,
A wearyed bride am I;
Must I gae wed that southlan lord,
And let Sweet Willie abe?'

* * * * * * *

6
'Now chuse, now chuse now, Fair Janet,
What shall your cleeding be;
Now chuse, now chuse now, Fair Janet,
And I will gie it to thee.

7
'Whether will you hae it of the berry brown,
Or of the holland green;
Or will you hae it of the crimson red,
Most lovely to be seen?'

8
'I will not hae't of the berry brown,
Nor yet o the holly green;
But I will hae't of the crimson red,
Most lovely to be seen.'

9
'Now chuse, now chuse now, Fair Janet,
What man you'll ride behind:'
'O wha sae fitting as Sweet Willie?
He'll fit my saddle fine.'

10
O they rode on, and they rode on,
Till they cam to Merrytown green;
But Sweet Willie and Fair Janet
Cam aye hoolie ahin.

11
O whan they cam to Merrytown,
And lighted on the green,
Monie a bluidy aith was sworn
That our bride was wi bairn.

12
Out and spake the bonny bride,
And she swore by her fingers ten:
'If eer I was wi bairn in my life,
I was lighter sin yestreen.'

13
Up and raise he the bridegroom,
Says, Bride, will ye dance wi me?
'Dance on, dance on, bridegroom,' she says,
'For I'll dance nane wi thee.'

14
Up and raise her father then,
Says, Bride, will ye dance wi me?
'Dance on, my father,' she replied,
'I pray thee let me be.'

15
Then up and raise he Sweet Willie,
And he had meikle pride:
'I'll lay my gloves in the bride's han,
And I'll dance for the bride.'

16
'O no, O no, O Sweet Willie,
O no, that shall na be;
For I will dance wi thee, Willie,
Tho my back should fa in three.'

17
She had na run a reel, a reel,
A reel but barely three,
Till pale and wan grew Fair Janet,
And her head took Willie's knee.

18
Out and spake then the bridegroom,
And he spake wi great scorn:
'There's not a bell in Merrytown kirk
Shall ring for her the morn.'

19
Out and spak he Sweet Willie,
And his heart was almost gane:
''Tis a the bells in Merrytown kirk
Shall ring for her the morn.'

20
Willie was buried in Mary's kirk,
etc., etc., etc.

F

Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 97;
Motherwell's MS., p. 606.

1
Hey, love Willie, and how, love Willie,
And Willie my love shall be;
They're thinking to sinder our lang love, Willie;
It's mair than man can dee.

2
'Ye'll mount me quickly on a steed,
A milk-white steed or gray,
And carry me on to gude greenwood,
Before that it be day.'

3
He mounted her upon a steed,
He chose a steed o gray;
He had her on to gude greenwood,
Before that it was day.

4
'O will ye gang to the cards, Meggie?
Or will ye gang wi me?
Or will ye hae a bower-woman,
To stay ere it be day?'

5
'I winna gang to the cards,' she said,
'Nor will I gae wi thee,
Nor will I hae a bower-woman,
To spoil my modestie.

6
'Ye'll gie me a lady at my back,
An a lady me beforn,
An a midwife at my twa sides,
Till your young son be born.

7
'Ye'll do me up, and further up,
To the top o yon greenwood tree;
For every pain myself shall hae,
The same pain ye maun drie.'

8
The first pain that did strike Sweet Willie,
It was into the side;
Then sighing sair said Sweet Willie,
These pains are ill to bide!

9
The nextan pain that strake Sweet Willie,
It was into the back;
Then sighing sair said Sweet Willie,
These pains are women's wreck!

10
The nextan pain that strake Sweet Willie,
It was into the head;
Then sighing sair said Sweet Willie,
I fear my lady's dead!

11
Then he's gane on, and further on,
At the foot o yon greenwood tree;
There he got his lady lighter,
Wi his young son on her knee.

12
Then he's taen up his little young son,
And kissd him, cheek and chin,
And he is on to his mother,
As fast as he could gang.

13
'Ye will take in my son, mother,
Gie him to nurses nine;
Three to wauk, and three to sleep,
And three to gang between.'

14
Then he has left his mother's house,
And frae her he has gane,
And he is back to his lady,
And safely brought her hame.

15
Then in it came her father dear,
Was belted in a brand:
'It's nae time for brides to lye in bed,
When the bridegroom 's send 's in town.

16
'There are four-and-twenty noble lords
A' lighted on the green;
The fairest knight amang them a',
He must be your bridegroom.'

17
'O wha will shoe my foot, my foot?
And wha will glove my hand?
And wha will prin my sma middle,
Wi the short prin and the lang?'

18
Now out it speaks him Sweet Willie,
Who knew her troubles best:
'It is my duty for to serve,
As I'm come here as guest.

19
'Now I will shoe your foot, Maisry,
And I will glove your hand,
And I will prin your sma middle,
Wi the sma prin and the lang.'

20
'Wha will saddle my steed,' she says,
'And gar my bridle ring?
And wha will hae me to gude church-door,
This day I'm ill abound?'

21
'I will saddle your steed, Maisry,
And gar your bridle ring,
And I'll hae you to gude church-door,
And safely set you down.'

22
'O healy, healy take me up,
And healy set me down,
And set my back until a wa,
My foot to yird-fast stane.'

23
He healy took her frae her horse,
And healy set her down,
And set her back until a wa,
Her foot to yird-fast stane.

24
When they had eaten and well drunken,
And a' had thornd fine,
The bride's father he took the cup,
For to serve out the wine.

25
Out it speaks the bridegroom's brother,
An ill death mat he die!
'I fear our bride she's born a bairn,
Or else has it a dee.'

26
She's taen out a Bible braid,
And deeply has she sworn;
'If I hae born a bairn,' she says,
'Sin yesterday at morn,

27
'Or if I've born a bairn,' she says,
'Sin yesterday at noon,
There's nae a lady amang you a'
That woud been here sae soon.'

28
Then out it spake the bridegroom's man,
Mischance come ower his heel!
'Win up, win up, now bride,' he says,
'And dance a shamefu reel.'

29
Then out it speaks the bride hersell,
And a sorry heart had she:
'Is there nae ane amang you a'
Will dance this dance for me?'

30
Then out it speaks him Sweet Willie,
And he spake aye thro pride:
'O draw my boots for me, bridegroom,
Or I dance for your bride.'

31
Then out it spake the bride hersell:
O na, this maunna be;
For I will dance this dance mysell,
Tho my back shoud gang in three.

32
She hadna well gane thro the reel,
Nor yet well on the green,
Till she fell down at Willie's feet
As cauld as ony stane.

33
He's taen her in his arms twa,
And haed her up the stair;
Then up it came her jolly bridegroom,
Says, What's your business there?

34
Then Willie lifted up his foot,
And dang him down the stair,
And brake three ribs o the bridegroom's side,
And a word he spake nae mair.

35
Nae meen was made for that lady,
When she was lying dead;
But a' was for him Sweet Willie,
On the fields for he ran mad.

G

Finlay's Scottish Ballads, II, 61.

1
'Will you marry the southland lord,
A queen of fair England to be?
Or will you burn for Sweet Willie,
The morn upon yon lea?'

2
'I will marry the southland lord,
Father, sen it is your will;
But I'd rather it were my burial-day,
For my grave I'm going till.

3
'O go, O go now, my bower-wife,
O go now hastilie,
O go now to Sweet Willie's bower,
And bid him cum speak to me.'

* * * * * * *

4
And he is to his mother's bower,
As fast as he could rin:
'Open, open, my mother dear,
Open, and let me in.

5
'For the rain rains on my yellow hair,
The dew stands on my chin,
And I have something in my lap,
And I wad fain be in.'

6
'O go, O go now, Sweet Willie,
And make your lady blithe,
For wherever you had ae nourice,
Your young son shall hae five.'

7
Out spak Annet's mother dear,
An she spak a word o' pride;
Says, Whare is a' our bride's maidens,
They're no busking the bride?

8
'O haud your tongue, my mother dear,
Your speaking let it be,
For I'm sae fair and full o flesh
Little busking will serve me.'

9
Out an spak the bride's maidens,
They spak a word o pride;
Says, Whare is a' the fine cleiding?
It's we maun busk the bride.

10
'Deal hooly wi my head, maidens,
Deal hooly wi my hair;
For it was washen late yestreen,
And it is wonder sair.'

* * * * * * *

11
And Willie swore a great, great oath,
And he swore by the thorn,
That she was as free o a child that night
As the night that she was born.

12
'Ye hae gien me the gowk, Annet,
But I'll gie you the scorn;
For there's no a bell in a' the town
Shall ring for you the morn.'

13
Out and spak then Sweet Willie:
Sae loud's I hear you lie!
There's no a bell in a' the town
But shall ring for Annet and me.

* * * * * * *

* * * * *

#E.#

_The copy in Kinloch MSS, II, 41, has been revised by Mr
Kinloch. His more important changes are as follows_:

1^1. Sweet Willie.

1^3. took in labor-pains.

2^1. Gae fetch.

2^3. For but.

2^4. It's surely.

3^3. And what a woman can do, Janet.

3^4. That I.

4^4. Says, Fy.

6^{1, 3}. now chuse thee, Fair Janet.

7^2, 8^2. hollin.

10^2, 11^1, 18^3, 19^3. Marytoun.

10^4. Cam riding.

12^1. Then out.

14^4. ye let me abee.

18^1. the bridegroom then.

19^1. But out.

19^2. His heart.

20.
Fair Janet was buried in Mary's kirk,
Sweet Willie in Mary's quier,
And out o the tane there sprang a rose,
Out o the tither a brier.

21.
And aye they grew, and aye they threw,
Till thae twa they did meet,
That ilka ane might plainly see
They war twa lovers sweet.

#G.#

1^3. _Var._ mourn for. _11, in Finlay, follows 13.
Fourteen stanzas, taken from #C#, have been omitted._

[84] She bids Willie leave her bower while she is in travail, #C# 7; in default of bower-woman, Willie offers to bandage his eyes and do a woman's part, #E# 3, after which a stanza is doubtless lost, in which man's aid would be rejected: cf. No 15, I, 182. #F# has a strange passage, 6-10 (belonging, perhaps, to 'Leesome Brand'), in which the lady, after asking that she may have the attendance of three women, selects the top of a tree for her labor, and informs Willie that he will have to drie every pain that she herself has, which experience duly follows.

[85] Danish #E# is translated by Prior, II, 99.

[86] La Fidanzata Infedele, Nigra, Rivista Contemporanea, XXXI, 21, and 'L'adultera,' Ferraro, Canti p. monferrini, p. 5, are the same ballad as the Breton, but the dance is not proposed in these.

65

LADY MAISRY

#A.# 'Lady Maisry,' Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 24;
Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 73.

#B.# Motherwell's MS., p. 422, communicated by Charles
Kirkpatrick Sharpe.

#C.# 'Janet,' Motherwell's MS., p. 472.

#D.# 'Lady Margery,' Campbell MSS, II, 70.

#E.# 'Lady Marjory,' Motherwell's MS., p. 1; Motherwell's
Minstrelsy, p. 234.

#F.# The Scots [Edinburgh] Magazine, 1822, LXXXIX 734.

#G.# Notes and Queries, Second Series, IX, 193.

#H.# 'Young Prince James,' Buchan's Ballads of the North
of Scotland, I, 103.

#I. a.# 'Bonnie Susie Cleland,' Motherwell's MS., p.
235, Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 221. #b.# 'Susie
Cleland,' Motherwell's MS., p. 179. #c.# 'Susie Cleland,'
Motherwell's MS., p. 181.

#A# was No 12 in William Tytler's Brown manuscript, and stanzas 1, 21, 22, of that copy are cited by Anderson in his letter to Percy, Nichols's Illustrations, VII, 177. Jamieson, who made a few changes in printing from his manuscript, attributes, by an oversight, the ballad to Mrs Arrot: compare Popular Ballads, I, pp 66 and 59. His copy is repeated by Motherwell, p. 71. #C#, of which no account is given by Motherwell, is hardly more than a variety of #B#. There is a copy in the Abbotsford manuscript, "Scottish Songs," which is more considerably tampered with, in the way of change, omission, and insertion.[87]

All the versions are in accord as to the material points of the story. Lady Maisry rejects the suit of all the lords in the north country, #A#; she has given her love to an English lord. Her lover's seat is Strawberry Castle, #D#, #E#, #F#; Adam's Tower, #H#; he lives at London, #G#. Maisry has been at Strawberry Castle for a time, and has there learned some unco lair, #D#, #E#.[88] It is discovered that Maisry goes with bairn. Her brother, #A#, #H#, father, #I#, informed to this effect, requires her to renounce her English lord, but she refuses; her father offers her the choice of marrying an auld man or burning, #D#. In the other versions the family set about preparations for burning her without attempting any arrangement. Maisry, warned of her approaching fate, calls for a boy to carry word to England, and a light-footed and heartily devoted young messenger takes her errand. The English lord asks if his biggins are broken, his towers won, or is his lady lighter, and is told that his lady is to be burnt for him that very day. Horses are instantly saddled: a black, a brown, are foundered, a milk-white [a dapple-gray], fair fall the mare that foaled that foal! holds out, #B#, #C#, #E#, #F#. In #D# fifteen stout steeds are burst, yet the little foot-page runs aye before, crying, Mend your pace an you may! Maisry, in the flames, hears her lover's horn, hears his bridle ring, #A#, #E#, #F#, #H#. "Beet on!" she cries; "I value you not one straw. Mend up the fire, brother; I see him coming that will soon mend it up to thee."[89] In #A#, #H# she cries out, when her lover appears, that if her hands had been free she would have cast out his young son. He leaps into the fire for a last kiss; her body falls apart, #B-G#. He threatens an awful retaliation: he will burn father and mother, and the chief of all her kin (who, no doubt, had been concerned in this auto da fé). Vengeance glutted, he will throw himself into the flames, #A#, #F#; he will take the pilgrim's cloak and staff, #C#. The foot-page shall be heir of his land, #C#; he will remember the bonny boy that ran the errand, #E#.[90]

Maisry, Margery, is the heroine's name in #A#, #D-H#, #J#; Janet in #B#, #C#; Susie Cleland in #I#. The hero has a name only in #A#, Lord William, and in #H#, Prince James.

'Lady Maisry' has a limited, and perhaps quite accidental, resemblance to the Scandinavian-German ballad spoken of in the preface to 'Fair Janet.' The lapse of the heroine is visited with a fearful death at the hand of brother or father, and the lover who was partner to her trespass appears on the scene immediately after, and takes his revenge. A kitchey-boy is informant in #A#, as in some versions of the German story.

The regular penalty for incontinence in an unmarried woman, if we are to trust the authority of romances, is burning. This, according to the well-known passage in Ariosto, Orlando Furioso, IV, 58, 59, was l'aspra legge di Scozia, empia e severa, though it might be as difficult to point out a law to that effect in any European code as a corresponding patria potestas.[91] Some ballad cases are: Scandinavian (Danish, Swedish, Norwegian, Icelandic), 'Ildpröven' and 'Møen paa Baalet,' Grundtvig, Nos 108, 109, II, 577-590, III, 904 f, Eva Wigström, Folkdiktning, I, 30, No 13; Spanish and Portuguese, 'De la infanta y don Galvan,' Wolf and Hofmann, Primavera, No 159, II, 92; 'Conde Claros de Montalvan,' Primavera, No 191, II, 374; 'La infanta seducida,' Milá, Romancerillo Catalan, No 258, #A-M#, pp 249-54; 'L'infanta,' Briz, IV, 39; 'Dom Carlos de Montealbar,' etc., Braga, Romanceiro, p. 79 ff, Nos 31, 32, 33, Cantos pop. do Archipelago Açoriano, p. 246, No 25, Almeida-Garrett, II, 203; 'Dona Ausenda,' Almeida-Garrett, II, 177, 'Dona Aldonça,' Estacio da Veiga, p. 75; Hardung, Romanceiro Portuguez, I, 180-204. To these add the prose Merlin, ed. Wheatley, I, 16; L'Histoire plaisante du noble Siperis de Vinevaulx, etc., cited by Liebrecht, Dunlop, p. 467, note 117.[92]

* * * * *

#A# is translated, after Jamieson, I, 73, by Grundtvig, Engelske og skotske Folkeviser, p. 38; #I, a#, the same, p. 322.

A

Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 24.

1
The young lords o the north country
Have all a wooing gone,
To win the love of Lady Maisry,
But o them she woud hae none.

2
O they hae courted Lady Maisry
Wi a' kin kind of things;
An they hae sought her Lady Maisry
Wi brotches an wi' rings.

3
An they ha sought her Lady Maisry
Frae father and frae mother;
An they ha sought her Lady Maisry
Frae sister an frae brother.

4
An they ha followd her Lady Maisry
Thro chamber an thro ha;
But a' that they coud say to her,
Her answer still was Na.

5
'O had your tongues, young men,' she says,
'An think nae mair o me;
For I've gien my love to an English lord,
An think nae mair o me.'

6
Her father's kitchy-boy heard that,
An ill death may he dee!
An he is on to her brother,
As fast as gang coud he.

7
'O is my father an my mother well,
But an my brothers three?
Gin my sister Lady Maisry be well,
There's naething can ail me.'

8
'Your father and your mother is well,
But an your brothers three;
Your sister Lady Maisry's well,
So big wi bairn gangs she.'

9
'Gin this be true you tell to me,
My mailison light on thee!
But gin it be a lie you tell,
You sal be hangit hie.'

10
He's done him to his sister's bowr,
Wi meikle doole an care;
An there he saw her Lady Maisry,
Kembing her yallow hair.

11
'O wha is aught that bairn,' he says,
'That ye sae big are wi?
And gin ye winna own the truth,
This moment ye sall dee.'

12
She turnd her right an roun about,
An the kem fell frae her han;
A trembling seizd her fair body,
An her rosy cheek grew wan.

13
'O pardon me, my brother dear,
An the truth I'll tell to thee;
My bairn it is to Lord William,
An he is betrothd to me.'

14
'O coud na ye gotten dukes, or lords,
Intill your ain country,
That ye draw up wi an English dog,
To bring this shame on me?

15
'But ye maun gi up the English lord,
Whan youre young babe is born;
For, gin you keep by him an hour langer,
Your life sall be forlorn.'

16
'I will gi up this English blood,
Till my young babe be born;
But the never a day nor hour langer,
Tho my life should be forlorn.'

17
'O whare is a' my merry young men,
Whom I gi meat and fee,
To pu the thistle and the thorn,
To burn this wile whore wi?'

18
'O whare will I get a bonny boy,
To help me in my need,
To rin wi hast to Lord William,
And bid him come wi speed?'

19
O out it spake a bonny boy,
Stood by her brother's side:
'O I would rin your errand, lady,
Oer a' the world wide.

20
'Aft have I run your errands, lady,
Whan blawn baith win and weet;
But now I'll rin your errand, lady,
Wi sat tears on my cheek.'

21
O whan he came to broken briggs,
He bent his bow and swam,
An whan he came to the green grass growin,
He slackd his shoone and ran.

22
O whan he came to Lord William's gates,
He baed na to chap or ca,
But set his bent bow till his breast,
An lightly lap the wa;
An, or the porter was at the gate,
The boy was i the ha.

23
'O is my biggins broken, boy?
Or is my towers won?
Or is my lady lighter yet,
Of a dear daughter or son?'

24
'Your biggin is na broken, sir,
Nor is your towers won;
But the fairest lady in a' the lan
For you this day maun burn.'

25
'O saddle me the black, the black,
Or saddle me the brown;
O saddle me the swiftest steed
That ever rade frae a town.'

26
Or he was near a mile awa,
She heard his wild horse sneeze:
'Mend up the fire, my false brother,
It's na come to my knees.'

27
O whan he lighted at the gate,
She heard his bridle ring:
'Mend up the fire, my false brother,
It's far yet frae my chin.

28
'Mend up the fire to me, brother,
Mend up the fire to me;
For I see him comin hard an fast
Will soon men 't up to thee.

29
'O gin my hands had been loose, Willy,
Sae hard as they are boun,
I would have turnd me frae the gleed,
And castin out your young son.'

30
'O I'll gar burn for you, Maisry,
Your father an your mother;
An I'll gar burn for you, Maisry,
Your sister an your brother.

31
'An I'll gar burn for you, Maisry,
The chief of a' your kin;
An the last bonfire that I come to,
Mysel I will cast in.'

B

Motherwell's MS., p. 422, communicated by Charles
Kirkpatrick Sharpe.

1
In came her sister,
Stepping on the floor;
Says, It's telling me, my sister Janet,
That you're become a whore.

2
'A whore, sister, a whore, sister?
That's what I'll never be;
I'm no so great a whore, sister,
As liars does on me lee.'

3
In came her brother,
Stepping on the floor;
Says, It's telling me, my sister Janet,
That you're become a whore.'

4
'A whore, brother, a whore, brother?
A whore I'll never be;
I'm no so bad a woman, brother,
As liars does on me lee.'

5
In came her mother,
Stepping on the floor:
'They are telling me, my daughter,
That you're so soon become a whore.'

6
'A whore, mother, a whore, mother?
A whore I'll never be;
I'm only with child to an English lord,
Who promised to marry me.'

7
In came her father,
Stepping on the floor;
Says, They tell me, my daughter Janet,
That you are become a whore.'

8
'A whore, father, a whore, father?
A whore I'll never be;
I'm but with child to an English lord,
Who promisd to marry me.'

9
Then in it came an old woman,
The lady's nurse was she,
And ere she could get out a word
The tear blinded her ee.

10
'Your father's to the fire, Janet,
Your brother's to the whin;
All for to kindle a bold bonfire,
To burn your body in.'

11
'Where will I get a boy,' she said,
'Will gain gold for his fee,
That would run unto fair England
For my good lord to me?'

12
'O I have here a boy,' she said,
'Will gain gold to his fee,
For he will run to fair England
For thy good lord to thee.'

13
Now when he found a bridge broken,
He bent his bow and swam,
And when he got where grass did grow,
He slacked it and ran.

14
And when he came to that lord's gate,
Stopt not to knock or call,
But set his bent bow to his breast
And lightly leapt the wall;
And ere the porter could open the gate,
The boy was in the hall,

15
In presence of that noble lord,
And fell down on his knee:
'What is it, my boy,' he cried,
'Have you brought unto me?

16
'Is my building broke into?
Or is my towers won?
Or is my true-love delivered
Of daughter or of son?'

17
'Your building is not broke,' he cried,
'Nor is your towers won,
Nor is your true-love delivered
Of daughter nor of son;
But if you do not come in haste,
Be sure she will be gone.

18
'Her father is gone to the fire,
Her brother to the whin,
To kindle up a bold bonfire,
To burn her body in.'

19
'Go saddle to me the black,' he cried,
'And do it very soon;
Get unto me the swiftest horse
That ever rade from the town.'

20
The first horse that he rade upon,
For he was raven black,
He bore him far, and very far,
But failed in a slack.

21
The next horse that he rode upon,
He was a bonny brown;
He bore him far, and very far,
But did at last fall down.

22
The next horse that he rode upon,
He as the milk was white;
Fair fall the mare that foaled that foal
Took him to Janet's sight!

23
And boots and spurs, all as he was,
Into the fire he lap,
Got one kiss of her comely mouth,
While her body gave a crack.

24
'O who has been so bold,' he says,
'This bonfire to set on?
Or who has been so bold,' he says,
'Her body for to burn?'

25
'O here are we,' her brother said,
'This bonfire who set on;
And we have been so bold,' he said,
'Her body for to burn.'

26
'O I'll cause burn for you, Janet,
Your father and your mother;
And I'll cause die for you, Janet,
Your sister and your brother.

27
'And I'll cause mony back be bare,
And mony shed be thin,
And mony wife be made a widow,
And mony ane want their son.'

C

Motherwell's MS., p. 472.

1
Ben came to her father dear,
Stepping upon the floor;
Says, It's told me, my daughter Janet,
That you're now become a whore.

2
'A whore, father, a whore, father?
That's what I'll never be,
Tho I am with bairn to an English lord,
That first did marry me.'

3
Soon after spoke her bower-woman,
And sorely did she cry:
'Oh woe is me, my lady fair,
That ever I saw this day!

4
'For your father's to the fire, Janet,
Your brother's to the whin,
Even to kindle a bold bonefire,
To burn your body in.'

5
'Where will I get a bonnie boy,
Will win gold to his fee,
That will run on to fair England
For my good lord to me?'

6
'Oh here am I, your waiting-boy,
Would win gold to my fee,
And will carry any message for you,
By land or yet by sea.'

7
And when he fand the bridges broke,
He bent his bow and swam,
But when he fand the grass growing,
He slacked it and ran.

8
And when he came to that lord's gate,
Stopt not to knock nor call,
But set his bent bow to his breast,
And lightly lap the wall.

9
And ere the porter was at the gate
The boy was in the hall,
And in that noble lord's presence
He on his knee did fall.

10
'O is my biggins broken?' he said,
'Or is my towers won?
Or is my lady lighter yet,
Of daughter or of son?'

11
'Your biggins are not broken,' he said,
'Nor is your towers won,
Nor is your lady lighter yet,
Of daughter or of son;
But if you stay a little time
Her life it will be gone.

12
'For her father's gone to the fire,
Her brother to the whin,
Even to kindle a bold bonfire,
To burn her body in.'

13
'Go saddle for me in haste,' he cried,
'A brace of horses soon;
Go saddle for me the swiftest steeds
That ever rode to a town.'

14
The first steed that he rade on,
For he was as jet black,
He rode him far, and very far,
But he fell down in a slack.

15
The next steed that he rode on,
He was a berry brown;
He bore him far, and very far,
But at the last fell down.

16
The next steed that he rode on,
He was as milk so white;
Fair fall the mare that foaled the foal
Took him to Janet's lyke!

17
But boots and spurs, all as he was,
Into the fire he lap,
Took ae kiss of her comely mouth,
While her body gave a crack.

18
'O who has been so bold,' he said,
'This bonfire to set on?
Or who has been so bold,' he cried,
'My true-love for to burn?'

19
Her father cried, I've been so bold
This bonefire to put on;
Her brother cried, We've been so bold
Her body for to burn.

20
'Oh I shall hang for you, Janet,
Your father and your brother;
And I shall burn for you, Janet,
Your sister and your mother.

21
'Oh I shall make many bed empty,
And many shed be thin,
And many a wife to be a widow,
And many one want their son.

22
'Then I shall take a cloak of cloth,
A staff made of the wand,
And the boy who did your errand run
Shall be heir of my land.'

D

Campbell MSS, II, 70.

1
Lady Margery was her mother's ain daughter,
And her father's only heir,
And she's away to Strawberry Castle,
To learn some unco lair.

2
She hadna been in Strawberry Castle
A year but only three,
Till she has proved as big with child,
As big as woman could be.

3
Word has to her father gone,
As he pat on his shoon,
That Lady Margery goes wi child,
Unto some English loon.

4
Word has to her mother gane,
As she pat on her gown,
That Lady Margery goes wi child,
Unto some English loon.

5
The father he likes her ill,
The mother she likes her waur,
But her father he wished her in a fire strang,
To burn for ever mair.

* * * * * * *

6
'Will ye hae this auld man, Lady Margery,
To be yeer warldly make?
Or will ye burn in fire strang,
For your true lover's sake?'

7
'I wunna hae that old, old man
To be my worldly make,
But I will burn in fire strang,
For my true lover's sake.'

8
'O who will put of the pot?
O who will put of the pan?
And who will build a bale-fire,
To burn her body in.'

9
The brother took of the pot,
The sister took of the pan,
And her mother builded a bold bale-fire,
To burn her body in.

10
'O where will I get a bony boy
That will run my errand soon?
That will run to Strawberry Castle,
And tell my love to come soon?'

11
But then started up a little boy,
Near to that lady's kin:
'Often have I gane your errands, madam,
But now it is time to rin.'

12
O when he came to Strawberry Castle,
He tirled at the pin;
There was nane sae ready as that lord himsell
To let the young body in.

13
'O is my towers broken?
Or is my castle wone?
Or is my lady Margery lighter
Of a daughter or a son?'

14
'Your towers are not broken,
Nor is your castle wone;
But the fairest lady of a' the land
For thee this day does burn.'

15
'Go saddle for me the black, black horse,
Go saddle to me the brown;
Go saddle to me as swift a steed
As ever man rade on.'

16
They saddled to him the black horse,
They saddled to him the brown;
They've saddled to him as swift a steed
As ever man rade on.

17
He put his foot into the stirrup,
He bounded for to ride;
The silver buttons lap of his breast,
And his nose began to bleed.

18
He bursted fifteen gude stout steeds,
And four o them were dappled gray,
And the little foot-page ran aye before,
Crying, Mend it, an ye may!

19
When he came to the bale-fire,
He lighted wi a glent,
Wi black boots and clean spurs,
And through the fire he went.

20
He laid ae arm about her neck,
And the other beneath her chin;
He thought to get a kiss o her,
But her middle it gade in twain.

21
'But who has been so false,' he said,
'And who has been sae cruel,
To carry the timber from my ain wood
To burn my dearest jewel?

22
'But I'll burn for ye, Lady Margery,
Yeer father and yeer mother;
And I'll burn for ye, Lady Margery,
Yeer sister and yeer brother.

23
'I'll do for ye, Lady Margery,
What never was done for nane;
I'll make many lady lemanless,
And many a clothing thin.

24
'And I'll burn for yeer sake, Lady Margery,
The town that yeer burnt in,
And [make] many a baby fatherless,
That's naething o the blame.'

E

Motherwell's MS., p. 1, from the recitation of Mrs
Thomson, Kilbarchan, February 25, 1825; Motherwell's
Minstrelsy, p. 234.

1
Lady Marjory was her mother's only daughter.
Her father's only heir, O
And she is awa to Strawberry Castle,
To get some unco lair. O

2
She had na been in Strawberry Castle
A twelve month and a day,
Till Lady Marjory she gaes wi child,
As big as she can gae.

3
Word is to her father gone,
Before he got on his shoon,
That Lady Marjory she gaes wi child,
And it is to an Irish groom.

4
But word is to her mother gane,
Before that she gat on her gown,
That Lady Marjorie she goes wi child,
To a lord of high renown.

5
'O wha will put on the pot?' they said,
'Or wha will put on the pan?
Or wha will put on a bauld, bauld fire,
To burn Lady Marjorie in?'

6
Her father he put on the pot,
Her sister put on the pan,
And her brother he put on a bauld, bauld fire,
To burn Lady Marjorie in;
And her mother she sat in a golden chair,
To see her daughter burn.

7
'But where will I get a pretty little boy,
That will win hose and shoon,
That will go quickly to Strawberry Castle
And bid my lord come doun?'

8
'O here am I a pretty boy,
That'll win hose and shoon,
That will rin quickly to Strawberry Castle,
And bid thy lord come doun.'

9
O when he came to broken brigs,
He bent his bow and swam,
And when he came to good dry land,
He let down his foot and ran.

10
When he came to Strawberry Castle,
He tirled at the pin;
None was so ready as the gay lord himsell
To open and let him in.

11
'O is there any of my towers burnt?
Or any of my castles broken?
Or is Lady Marjorie brought to bed,
Of a daughter or a son?'

12
'O there is nane of thy towers burnt,
Nor nane of thy castles broken,
But Lady Marjorie is condemned to die,
To be burnt in a fire of oaken.'

13
'O gar saddle to me the black,' he said,
'Gar saddle to me the brown;
Gar saddle to me the swiftest steed
That eer carried a man from town.'

14
He left the black into the slap,
The brown into the brae,
But fair fa that bonny apple-gray
That carried this gay lord away!

15
He took a little horn out of his pocket,
And he blew't both loud and shrill,
And the little life that was in her,
She hearkend to it full weel.

16
'Beet on, beet on, my brother dear,
I value you not one straw,
For yonder comes my own true-love,
I hear his horn blaw.

17
'Beet on, beet on, my father dear,
I value you not a pin,
For yonder comes my own true-love,
I hear his bridle ring.'

18
But when he came into the place,
He lap unto the wa;
He thought to get a kiss o her bonny lips,
But her body fell in twa.

19
'Oh vow, oh vow, oh vow,' he said,
'Oh vow but ye've been cruel!
Ye've taken the timber out of my own wood
And burnt my ain dear jewel.

20
'Now for thy sake, Lady Marjorie,
I'll burn both father and mother;
And for thy sake, Lady Marjorie,
I'll burn both sister and brother.

21
'And for thy sake, Lady Marjorie,
I'll burn both kith and kin;
But I will remember the pretty little boy
That did thy errand rin.'

F

The Scots [Edinburgh] Magazine, 1822, LXXXIX, 734,
communicated by W. W.

1
Fair Marjory's gaen into the school,
Between six and seven,
An she's come back richt big wi bairn,
Between twalve and eleven.

2
It's out then sprung her mither dear,
Stood stately on the flure:
'Ye're welcum back, young Marjory,
But ye're sune becum a hure.'

3
'I'm not a hure, mither,' she said,
'Nor ever intend to be;
But I'm wi child to a gentleman,
An he swears he'll marry me.'

4
[It's out then sprung her father dear,
Stood stately on the flure:
'Ye're welcum back, young Marjory,
But ye're sune becum a hure.'

5
'I'm not a hure, father,' she said,
'Nor ever intend to be;
But I'm wi child to a gentleman,
An he swears he will marry me.'

6
It's out then sprung her brother dear,
Stood stately on the flure:
'Ye're welcum back, young Marjory,
But ye're sune becum a hure.'

7
'I'm not a hure, brother,' she said,
'Nor ever intend to be;
But I'm wi child to a gentleman,
An he swears he will marry me.'

8
It's out then sprung her sister dear,
Stood stately on the flure:
'Ye're welcum back, young Marjory,
But ye're sune becum a hure.'

9
'I'm not a hure, sister,' she said,
'Nor ever intend to be;]
Ye're but a young woman, sister,
An ye shuld speak sparinlie.'

10
Her father's to the grene-wude gaen,
Her brither's to the brume;
An her mither sits in her gowden chair,
To see her dochter burn.

* * * * * * *

11
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
The sister she culd do naething,
And she sat down to greet.

12
'Oh whare will I get a bonny boy,
That wull win hose an shoon,
That wull rin to Strawberry Castle for me,
And bid my true-love come?'

13
It's out than spak a bonny boy,
That stude richt at her knee:
'It's I wull rin your errand, ladie,
Wi the saut tear i my ee.'

14
It's whan he cam to broken brigg,
He bent his bow an swam,
An whan he cam whare green grass grew,
Set doon his feet an ran.

15
An whan he cam to Strawberry Castle,
He thirled at the pin,
An aye sae ready as the porter was
To rise and let him in.

* * * * * * *

16
'Gae saddle to me the black,' he says,
'Gae saddle to me the broun;
Gae saddle to me the swiftest steed
That eer set fute on grun.'

17
It's first he burst the bonny black,
An syne the bonny broun,
But the dapple-gray rade still away,
Till he cam to the toun.

18
An aye he rade, an aye he rade,
An aye away he flew,
Till the siller buttons flew off his coat;
He took out his horn an blew.

19
An aye he blew, an aye he blew,
He blew baith loud an shrill,
An the little life that Marjory had,
She heard his horn blaw weel.

20
'Beik on, beik on, cruel mither,' she said,
'For I value you not a straw;
For if ever I heard my love in my life,
He's comin here awa.'

* * * * * * *

21
When he cam unto the flames
He jamp in, butes and a';
He thocht to hae kissd her red rosy lips,
But her body broke in twa.

* * * * * * *

22
I'll burn for thy sake, Marjory,
The toun that thou lies in;
An I'll mak the baby fatherless,
For I'll throw mysel therein.

G

Notes and Queries, Second Series, IX, 193; communicated
by A. J., Edinburgh, as learned by himself and an elder
sister from an old washerwoman of East Dereham, Norfolk,
in the early part of this century.

* * * * * * *

1
'My father was the first good man
Who tied me to a stake;
My mother was the first good woman
Who did the fire make.

2
'My brother was the next good man
Who did the fire fetch;
My sister was the next good woman
Who lighted it with a match.

3
'They blew the fire, they kindled the fire,
Till it did reach my knee:
"O mother, mother, quench the fire!
The smoke will smother me."

4
'O had I but my little foot-page,
My errand he would run;
He would run unto gay London,
And bid my lord come home.'

5
Then there stood by her sister's child,
Her own dear sister's son:
'O many an errand I've run for thee,
And but this one I'll run.'

6
He ran, where the bridge was broken down
He bent his bow and swam;
He swam till he came to the good green turf,
He up on his feet and ran.

7
He ran till he came at his uncle's hall;
His uncle sat at his meat:
'Good mete, good mete, good uncle, I pray,
O if you knew what I'd got to say,
How little would you eat!'

8
'O is my castle broken down,
Or is my tower won?
Or is my gay lady brought o bed,
Of a daughter or a son?'

9
'Your castle is not broken down,
Your tower it is not won;
Your gay lady is not brought to bed,
Of a daughter or a son.

10
'But she has sent you a gay gold ring,
With a posy round the rim,
To know, if you have any love for her,
You'll come to her burning.'

11
He called down his merry men all,
By one, by two, by three;
He mounted on his milk-white steed,
To go to Margery.

12
They blew the fire, they kindled the fire,
Till it did reach her head:
'O mother, mother, quench the fire!
For I am nearly dead.'

13
She turned her head on her left shoulder,
Saw her girdle hang on the tree:
'O God bless them that gave me that!
They'll never give more to me.'

14
She turned her head on her right shoulder,
Saw her lord come riding home:
'O quench the fire, my dear mother!
For I am nearly gone.'

15
He mounted off his milk-white steed,
And into the fire he ran,
Thinking to save his gay ladye,
But he had staid too long.

H

Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 103.

1
There stands a stane in wan water,
It's lang ere it grew green;
Lady Maisry sits in her bower door,
Sewing at her silken seam.

2
Word's gane to her mother's kitchen,
And to her father's ha,
That Lady Maisry is big wi bairn--
And her true-love's far awa.

3
When her brother got word of this,
Then fiercely looked he:
'Betide me life, betide me death,
At Maisry's bower I'se be.

4
'Gae saddle to me the black, the black,
Gae saddle to me the brown;
Gae saddle to me the swiftest steed,
To hae me to the town.'

5
When he came to Maisry's bower,
He turnd him round about,
And at a little shott-window,
He saw her peeping out.

6
'Gude morrow, gude morrow, Lady Maisry,
God make you safe and free!'
'Gude morrow, gude morrow, my brother dear,
What are your wills wi me?'

7
'What's come o a' your green claithing,
Was ance for you too side?
And what's become o your lang stays,
Was ance for you too wide?'

8
'O he that made my claithing short,
I hope he'll make them side;
And he that made my stays narrow,
I hope he'll make them wide.'

9
'O is it to a lord o might,
Or baron o high degree?
Or is it to any o your father's boys,
Rides in the chase him wi?'

10
'It's no to any Scottish lord,
Nor baron o high degree;
But English James, that little prince,
That has beguiled me.'

11
'O was there not a Scots baron
That could hae fitted thee,
That thus you've lovd an Englishman,
And has affronted me?'

12
She turnd her right and round about,
The tear blinded her ee:
'What is the wrang I've done, brother,
Ye look sae fierce at me?'

13
'Will ye forsake that English blude,
When your young babe is born?'
'I'll nae do that, my brother dear,
Tho I shoud be forlorn.'

14
'I'se cause a man put up the fire,
Anither ca in the stake,
And on the head o yon high hill
I'll burn you for his sake.

15
'O where are all my wall-wight men,
That I pay meat and fee,
For to hew down baith thistle and thorn,
To burn that lady wi?'

16
Then he has taen her, Lady Maisry,
And fast he has her bound;
And he causd the fiercest o his men
Drag her frae town to town.

17
Then he has causd ane of his men
Hew down baith thistle and thorn;
She carried the peats in her petticoat-lap,
Her ainsell for to burn.