Chapter XIII: Appendix (2)

Sir James the Rose has killed a squire, and men are out to take him. A nurse at the house of Marr is his leman, and he resorts to her in the hope that she may befriend him. She advises him to go to an ale-house for the night, promising to meet him there in the morning; he says he will do so, but, perhaps from distrust, which proves to be well grounded, prefers to wrap himself in his plaid and sleep under the sky. The party sent out to take him question the nurse, who at first makes a deceptive answer, then gives them a direction to his hiding-place. They find James the Rose asleep and take away his arms; he wakes and begs for mercy, and is told that he shall have such as he has given. He appeals to his servant to stay by him till death, and then to take his body to Loch Largan (Loughargan), for which service the man shall have his clothes and valuables. The avengers cut out his heart and take it to his leman at the house of Marr; she raves over her treachery, and is ‘born away’ bodily, to be seen no more.

#e#, #f#, it may be by accident, lack the vulgar passage 18, 19, which may be a later addition, for nothing is said of a man being in attendance when Sir James goes to his lair. The leader of the band that takes Sir James the Rose is Sir James the Graham, Sir James Graham, in #c#, #e#, #f#; a simple error, evidently. No motive is furnished in #a-f# for the woman’s betraying her leman. #g# makes her offer information on condition of getting a proper reward, and she is promised Sir James’s purse and brechan, but in the end is tendered his bleeding heart and his bleeding tartan, whatever that may be other than his brechan. This must be one of Pinkerton’s improvements. The moral tag, st. 24, is dropped, or wanting, in #c#, #e#, #f#, #g#.

The topography of traditional ballads frequently presents difficulties, both because it is liable to be changed, wholly, or, what is more embarrassing, partially, to suit a locality to which a ballad has been transported, and again because unfamiliar names, when not exchanged, are exposed to corruption. Some of the places, also, have not a dignity which entitles them to notice in gazetteers. The first point, in the case before us, would be to settle the whereabouts of the House of Marr, in the vicinity of which the scene is laid. This I am unable to do. There is a Ballechin in Logierait Parish, Perthshire. There is said to be a Baleichan in Forfarshire.[94] It is not easy to see why the heir of either of these places (Buleighan and the rest may stand for either) should wish to have his body taken to Loch Largon in Invernesshire, if Loch Largon means Loch Laggan, as seems likely.[95]

Translated by Knortz, Schottische Balladen, p. 79, after Aytoun.

* * * * *

1
O heard ye of Sir James the Rose,
The young heir of Buleighen?
For he has killd a gallant squire,
An ‘s friends are out to take him.

2
Now he’s gone to the House of Marr,
Where the nourrice was his leman;
To see his dear he did repair,
Thinking she would befriend him.

3
‘Where are you going, Sir James?’ she says,
‘Or where now are you riding?’
‘O I am bound to a foreign land,
For now I’m under hiding.

4
‘Where shall I go? Where shall I run?
Where shall I go to hide me?
For I have killd a gallant squire,
And they’re seeking to slay me.’

5
‘O go ye down to yon ale-house,
And I’ll pay there your lawing;
And, if I be a woman true,
I’ll meet you in the dawing.’

6
‘I’ll not go down to yon ale-house,
For you to pay my lawing;
There’s forty shillings for one supper,
I’ll stay in ‘t till the dawing.’

7
He’s turnd him right and round about
And rowd him in his brechan,
And he has gone to take a sleep,
In the lowlands of Buleighen.

8
He was not well gone out of sight,
Nor was he past Milstrethen,
Till four and twenty belted knights
Came riding oer the Leathen.

9
‘O have you seen Sir James the Rose,
The young heir of Buleighen?
For he has killd a gallant squire,
And we’re sent out to take him.’

10
‘O I have seen Sir James,’ she says,
‘For he past here on Monday;
If the steed be swift that he rides on,
He’s past the gates of London.’

11
But as they were going away,
Then she calld out behind them;
‘If you do seek Sir James,’ she says,
‘I’ll tell you where you’ll find him.

12
‘You’ll seek the bank above the mill,
In the lowlands of Buleighen,
And there you’ll find Sir James the Rose,
Lying sleeping in his brechan.

13
‘You must not wake him out of sleep,
Nor yet must you affright him,
Till you run a dart quite thro his heart,
And thro the body pierce him.’

14
They sought the bank above the mill,
In the lowlands of Buleighan,
And there they found Sir James the Rose,
A sleeping in his brechan.

15
Then out bespoke Sir John the Græme,
Who had the charge a keeping;
‘It’s neer be said, dear gentlemen,
We’ll kill him when he’s sleeping.’

16
They seizd his broadsword and his targe,
And closely him surrounded;
But when he wak’d out of his sleep,
His senses were confounded.

17
‘O pardon, pardon, gentlemen!
Have mercy now upon me!’
‘Such as you gave, such you shall have,
And so we’ll fall upon thee.’

18
‘Donald my man, wait me upon,
And I’ll give you my brechan,
And, if you stay here till I die,
You’ll get my trews of tartan.

19
‘There is fifty pounds in my pocket,
Besides my trews and brechan;
You’ll get my watch and diamond ring;
And take me to Loch Largon.’

20
Now they have taken out his heart
And stuck it on a spear,
Then took it to the House of Marr,
And gave it to his dear.

21
But when she saw his bleeding heart
She was like one distracted;
She smote her breast, and wrung her hands,
Crying, ‘What now have I acted!

22
‘Sir James the Rose, now for thy sake
O but my heart’s a breaking!
Curst be the day I did thee betray,
Thou brave knight of Buleighen.’

23
Then up she rose, and forth she goes,
All in that fatal hour,
And bodily was born away,
And never was seen more.

24
But where she went was never kend,
And so, to end the matter,
A traitor’s end, you may depend,
Can be expect’d no better.

* * * * *

#a.#

_From_ “A collection of Popular Ballads and Tales,” _in six
volumes_, “formed by me,” _says Sir W. Scott_, “when a boy, from
the baskets of the travelling pedlars.... It contains most of
the pieces that were popular about thirty years since.”
(“1810.”) _Vol._ IV, _No_ 21. _In stanzas of eight lines._

#b.#

1^2. Buleighan, _and always_.

2^3. To seek (#d#).

5^2. there pay.

5^3. maiden true (#d#).

11^1. As they rode on, man after man.

11^2. she cried.

11^3. James the Rose.

12^1. Seek ye the bank abune.

13^3. you drive (#d#).

13^4. through his (#d#).

14^1. abune (#d#).

14^4. Lying sleeping (#d#).

15^1. Up then spake (#d#).

15^3. It shall (#d#).

15^4. We killed: when a (#d#).

16^3. And (#d#).

17^4. we fall (#d#).

20^1. they’ve taen out his bleeding heart (#d#).

21^3. wrung her hands and tore her hair (#d#).

21^4. Oh, what have I.

22^1. It’s for your sake, Sir J. the R. (#d#).

22^2. That my poor heart’s (#d#).

23^3. She bodily.

24^4. Can never be no.

#c.#

1^1. Did you hear.

1^2. That young.

1^2, 7^4, 9^2. Belichan.

1^3. For _wanting_.

1^4. Who was sent out.

2^1. Now _wanting_.

2^2. nurse she was his layman.

3^2. where are you a.

3^3. I am going to some land.

3^4. For I am.

4^1. Where must: I turn.

4^2. I run.

4^3, 9^3. esquire.

4^4. And my friends are out to take me.

5^1. Go you.

5^2. There you’ll stay till the dawning.

5^4. I’ll come and pay your lawing.

6^1. down _wanting_.

6^2. To stay unto the dawning.

6^3. Now if you be a woman true.

6^4. [D] o (?) come and pay the lawning.

7^1. himself quite round.

7^3. he is.

8^1. not quite out.

8^2. _Wanting._

8^4. ore Beligham.

9^1. did you see.

9^2. That.

9^3. For _wanting_.

9^4. Who was sent.

10^1. Oh yes, I seed S. J. the R.

10^2. He passed by here.

10^3. His steed was: rid.

10^4. And past.

11^1. Just as.

11^2. They thought no more upon him.

11^3. Oh if you want S. J. the R.

12^2. And the: Belighan.

12^3. And _wanting_.

13 _as_ 14.

13^1. him from his.

13^2. you _wanting_.

13^3. But in his breast must run a dart.

14 _as_ 13.

14^2. And lowlands.

14^4. Lying sleeping.

15^1. up bespoke Sir James the Graham.

15^2. charge in.

15^3. Let it neer: gentleman.

15^4. We killd a man a sleeping.

16^1. They have taken from him his sword and target.

16^3. wakened out of sleep.

16^4. was.

17^1. O _wanting_.

17^2. And now have mercy on.

17^3. Which as.

17^4. And so shall fall upon you.

18^2. Until I be a dead man.

18^3. You’ll get my hose, likewise my shoes.

18^4. Likewise my Highland brichan.

19^{1,2}. _Wanting._

19^{3,4} _with_ 20^{1,2}: 20^{3,4} _with_ 21^{1,2}: 21^{3,4}
_with_ 22^{3,4}: 22^{1,2} _wanting_.

19^3. You shall have my.

19^4. If you’ll carry me to Loughargan.

20^1. tane out his bleeding heart.

20^2. And fetched it on a spear man.

20^3. And locked it to the Marr.

20^4. A present to. 21^2. She ran.

21^3. She wrung her hands and smote her breast.

21^4. Oh what have I done, what have I acted.

22^3. day I you betrayd.

22^4. of Brichan.

23^1. Then _wanting_.

23^2. And in.

23^3. Her body by.

23^4. never was heard tell of: more _wanting_.

24. _Wanting._

#d.#

1^2. Buleichan, _and always_.

1^4. And his.

2^1. Now _wanting_.

2^3. To seek.

3. _Wanting._

4^4. They’re seeking for to.

5^2. there I’ll pay.

5^3. a maiden.

6^1. no gae.

6^3. thirty shillings for your.

6^4. And stay until the.

8^1. He had.

8^2. And past the Mill strethan.

10^1. S. J. the Rose.

11^1. But _wanting_.

11^2. She cried out.

11^3. S. J. the Rose.

12^1. Search the.

13^3. you drive.

13^4. through his.

14^1. They searched: abune.

14^4. Lying sleeping.

15^1. Up then spoke.

15^3. It shall.

15^4. We killed him when a.

16^3. And.

17^4. we fall.

19^1. There is _wanting_.

20^1. They’ve taen out his bleeding.

20^3. And they’ve gone to.

20^4. And gien.

21^1. But _wanting_.

21^3. She wrung her hands and tore her hair.

21^4. Crying, Now what.

22^1. It’s for your sake, S. J. the R.

22^2. That my poor heart’s.

23^1. Then _wanting_.

23^2. And in.

23^3. Bodily: She _prefixed later_.

24^1. kent.

24^4. Cannot expect no.

#e, f.#

#e.# Another song of Sir James the Ross; _this following Bruce’s
ballad, which has the title_ (_p._ 73) Sir James the Rose or de
Ross. #f.# Another song of Sir James de Ross.

1^1. O did ye na ken Sir.

1^2. #e.# Ballachen, _and always_.

#f.# 1^2, 7^4, 9^2, Ballachen;

12^2. Ballichan;

14^2. Ballichin;

22^4. Ballichen.

1^4. #e.# And they seeking, #f.# And they’re seeking.

2^1. He’s hy’d him: Moor.

2^{2–4}, 3. #e.# _Wanting_.

3^2. #f.# O where away are.

3^3. #f.# to some.

4^1. O where.

4^2. O whither shall I hide me.

4^4. to kill.

5^1. #e.# gan ye. #f.# gang you.

5^2. I will pay your.

5^3. And gin there be.

6^1. gang.

6^3. shillings in my purse.

6^4. We’l stake it in the.

7^1. He turnd.

7^3. is gone.

8^2. Mill Strechin.

8^3. Ere.

8^4. the Rechin.

9^1. O saw ye.

10^1. O yes, I saw S. J. the R.

10^3. And gif: swift he: on _wanting_.

10^4. He’s near.

11^1. They were not well gane out o sight.

11^2. Ere she.

11^3. O gin ye seek S. J. the R.

11^4. ye where to.

12^1. Ye’ll search the bush aboon the know.

13^1. him from his sleep.

13^2. Neither man you

14^1. the bush aboon the know.

14^4. Lying sleeping.

15^1. O then spake up Sir James Graham.

15^3. Let it not be.

15^4. We killd: while.

16^1. They’ve tane his broadsword from his side.

16^2. him they have _for_ closely him.

16^3. o _for_ of his.

17^2. O pardon me, I pray ye.

17^8. ye gae, such shall ye hae.

17^4. There is no pardon for ye.

18, 19. _Wanting._

20^1. they’ve tane out his bleeding heart.

20^2. #f.# stickt it.

20^3. Then carried, #e.# Mure, #f.# Moor.

20^4. And shewd.

21^1. But _wanting_.

21^2. She rav’d.

21^3. And cried, Alake, a weel (well) a day.

21^4. Alas what have.

22^2. My heart it is a.

22^3. Wae to the day I thee betrayd.

22^4. Thou bold.

23^2. In that unhappy hour.

23^4. neer was heard of more.

24. _Wanting._

#g.#

1^2. Buleighan, _and always_.

1^4. Whase friends.

2^1. has gane.

2^2. Whar nane might seek to find him.

2^4. Weining.

3^1. said.

3^2. O whar awa are ye.

3^3. I maun be bound.

3^4. And now.

4^2. I rin to lay.

4^4. And his friends seek.

5^1. yon laigh.

5^2. I sall pay there.

5^3. And as I am your leman trew.

5^4. at the.

6. _Wanting._

7^1. He turnd.

7^2. And laid him doun to.

8^3. Whan.

9^4. sent to.

10^1. Yea, I: said.

10^2. He past by here.

10^3. Gin.

10^4. the Hichts of Lundie.

11^1. as wi speid they rade awa.

11^2. She leudly cryd.

11^3. Gin ye’ll gie me a worthy meid.

11^4. whar to.

12.
‘O tell, fair maid, and, on our band,
Ye’se get his purse and brechan:’
‘He’s in the bank aboon the mill,
In the lawlands o Buleighan.’

13, 14. _Wanting._

15^1. out and spak.

15^3. said, my stalwart feres.

15^4. We killd him whan a.

16^{3,4}.
O pardon, mercy, gentlemen!
He then fou loudly sounded.

17^{3,4}–19.
‘Sic as ye gae sic ye sall hae,
Nae grace we shaw to thee can.’
‘Donald my man, wait till I fa,
And ye shall hae my brechan;
Ye’ll get my purse, thouch fou o gowd,
To tak me to Loch Lagan.’

20^1. Syne they tuke out his bleeding heart.

20^2. And set.

20^4. And shawd.

21.
We cold nae gie Sir James’s purse,
We cold nae gie his brechan,
But ye sall ha his bleeding heart,
Bot and his bleeding tartan.

22^1. O for.

22^2. My heart is now.

22^3. day I wrocht thy wae.

22^4. brave heir.

23^{2,3}. And in that hour o tein, She wanderd to the dowie glen.

23^4. never mair was sein.

24. _Wanting._

214

THE BRAES O YARROW

#A.# ‘The Braes of Yarrow,’ communicated to Percy by Dr Robertson,
Principal of Edinburgh.

#B.# ‘The Braes o Yarrow,’ Murison MS., p. 105.

#C.# ‘The Dowie Downs o Yarrow,’ Motherwell’s MS., p. 334;
Motherwell’s Minstrelsy, p. 252.

#D.# ‘The Bonny Braes of Yarrow,’ communicated to Percy by Robert
Lambe, of Norham, 1768.

#E. a.# ‘The Dowy Houms o Yarrow,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for
Border Minstrelsy,” Abbotsford. #b.# ‘The Dowie Dens of Yarrow,’
Scott’s Minstrelsy III, 72, 1803, III, 143, 1833.

#F.# ‘The Dowie Dens o Yarrow,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border
Minstrelsy,” Abbotsford.

#G.# ‘The Dowie Dens of Yarrow,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border
Minstrelsy,” Abbotsford.

#H.# ‘The Dowie Dens of Yarrow,’ Campbell MSS, II, 55.

#I.# ‘Braes of Yarrow,’ Buchan’s MSS, II, 161; Buchan’s Ballads of the
North of Scotland, II, 203; Dixon, Scottish Traditional Versions of
Ancient Ballads, p. 68, Percy Society, vol. xvii.

#J.# ‘The Dowie Glens of Yarrow,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for
Border Minstrelsy,” Abbotsford.

#K.# ‘The Dowie Den in Yarrow,’ Campbell MSS, I, 8.

#L.# ‘The Dowie Dens,’ Blackwood’s Magazine, CXLVII, 741, June, 1890.

#M.# ‘Dowie Banks of Yarrow,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border
Minstrelsy,” Abbotsford.

#N.# ‘The Yetts of Gowrie,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border
Minstrelsy,” Abbotsford.

#O.# Herd’s MSS, I, 35, II, 181; Herd’s Ancient and Modern Scottish
Songs, 1776, I, 145; four stanzas.

#P.# Cromek’s Select Scotish Songs, 1810, II, 196; two stanzas.

First published in Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, 1803 (#E b#). Scott remarks that he “found it easy to collect a variety of copies, but very difficult indeed to select from them such a collated edition as might in any degree suit the taste of ‘these more light and giddy-paced times.’” The copy principally used was #E a#. St. 12 of Scott, which suited the taste of the last century, but does not suit with a popular ballad, is from #O#, and also st. 13, and there are traces of #F#, #G#, #M#, but 5–7 have lines which do not occur in any version that I have seen.

#A# had been somewhat edited before it was communicated to Percy; the places were, however, indicated by commas. Several copies besides #O#, already referred to, have slight passages that never came from the unsophisticated people; as #J# 2, in which a page “runs with sorrow,” for rhyme and without reason, #L# 2^3, and #L# 12^{3,4}, which is manifestly taken from Logan’s Braes of Yarrow.[96] #N# has been interpolated with artificial nonsense,[97] and is an almost worthless copy; the last stanza may defy competition for silliness.

#M# 1, 3, and #N# 4, 6, 7, belong to ‘The Duke of Athole’s Nurse.’ So also does one half of a fragment sent by Burns in a letter to William Tytler, Cromek’s Select Scotish Songs, 1810, II, 194–8, which, however, has two stanzas of this ballad (#P#) and two of ‘Rare Willie’s drowned in Yarrow,’ No 215.

The fragment in Ritson’s Scotish Songs, 1794, I, lxvii, is #O#.

Herd’s MSS, I, 36, II, 182, have the following couplets, evidently from a piece treating the story of this ballad:

O when I look east my heart is sair,
But when I look west it’s mair and mair,
For there I see the braes of Yarrow,
And there I lost for ay my marrow.

The groups #A-I# and #J-P# are distinguished by the circumstance, of no importance to the story, that the hero and heroine in the former are man and wife, in the other unmarried lovers. In all the versions (leaving out of account the fragments #O#, #P#) the family of the woman are at variance with the man. Her brothers think him an unfit match for their sister, #A# 8, #B# 2.[98] In #C# 2 the brothers have taken offence because their sister was not regarded as his equal by her husband, which is perhaps too much of a refinement for ballads, and may be a perversion. She was worth stealing in #C# as in #B#. The dispute in two or three copies appears to take the form who is the flower, or rose, of Yarrow, that is the best man, #C# 8, 9, 17, #B# 1, 12, #D# 1, 14; but this matter is muddled, cf. #C# 2, 3, #D# 2. We hear nothing about the unequal match in #D#-#I#, but in #J-L# a young lady displeases her father by refusing nine gentlemen in favor of a servant-lad.

Men who are drinking together fall out and set a combat for the next day, #B-F#, #H#, #I#. It is three lords that drink and quarrel in #B#-#D# (ten (?) in #I#). The lady fears that her three brothers will slay her husband, #B# 5, #C# 5. The lord in #D# 2 seems not to be one of the three in #D# 1, and we are probably to understand that three brothers get into a brawl with a man who has surreptitiously married their sister. Only one brother is spoken of in #A# (6), from whom treachery is looked for, #E# 2.

In #I-L# the father makes the servant-lad fight with the nine high-born suitors.

The wife tries to keep her husband at home, #A-E#, #I#; but he is confident that all will go well, and that he shall come back to her early, #A#, #B#, #C#, #I#. She kisses (washes) and combs him, and helps to arm him, #B#, #C#, #E#, #F#, #G#, #I#; so #J#, #K#.[99] He finds nine armed men awaiting him on the braes or houms of Yarrow, #A#, #E#-#G#, #I-M#, ten #B#, #D#.[100] They ask if he has come to hawk, hunt (drink), or fight; he replies that he has come to fight, #C#, #E#, #I#; cf. #A# 5, 6. Five (four) he slays and four (five) he wounds, #A#, #B#, #D#, #E#, #I#, #J#, #K#; in #F# he kills all the nine; in #L# he gets no further than the seventh; in #G# he kills all but one.

These nine, after the way of ballads, should be the lady’s brothers, and such they are in #A# 7, 8. Three of them, but only three, should be the lady’s brothers according to #B# 1–5, #C# 1–5. Three brethren are charged by the husband with a message to his lady in #D# 8, and these might be his brothers-in-law. The message is sent in #E# 9 by a good-brother, or wife’s brother, John, who clearly was not in the fight in #E#, though the husband says he is going to meet this brother John in #A# 6. This brother-in-law of #E# is probably intended by brother in #I# 8.

After the hero has successively disposed of his nine or ten antagonists (he takes them ‘man for man’), he is stabbed from behind in a cowardly way, #A#, #B#, #C#, #E#, #I#, #L#, #N#, by somebody. The tradition is much blurred here; it is a squire out of the bush, a cowardly man, a fause lord. An Englishman shoots him with an arrow out of a bush in #D#. But other reports are distinct. The lady’s father runs him through (not from behind) in #J#, #K#. Her brother springs from a bush behind and runs him through, #L#. Her brother John comes behind him and slays him, #N#. Up and rose her brother James and slew him, #M#. In #E# “that stubborn knight” comes behind him and runs his body through, and that (a) “stubborn lord” is the author of his death in #G#, #F#. Taking #E# 2, 8, 9 together, the stubborn knight, at least in #E#, may be interpreted as good-brother John, whose treachery is feared in #E# 2, who is prominent in #A# 6, and who is expressly said to slay his sister’s true-love in #N#. On the whole, the preponderance of tradition is to the effect that the hero was treacherously slain by his wife’s (love’s) brother.

Word of her husband’s death is sent or carried to the wife by her brother, brother John, #A#, #E#, #L#, #N#; her or his three brothers, #D# 8; her or his brother, #I# 8; his man John, #C# 12, by mistake; her father (?), #J#, #K#; her sister Anne, #F#, #G#, #H#. The wife has had a dream that she, her lord or true-love and she, had been pulling green heather (birk) in Yarrow, #A#, #C-F#, #I-M#, #O#.[101] The dream is explained to signify her lord’s death, and she is enjoined to fetch him home. In #A#, the dream occurs before the fight and is double, of pulling green heather and of her love coming headless home; in #B#, the lady dreams that her lord was sleeping sound in Yarrow, and in the highly vitiated #N# that ‘he had lost his life.’

The wife hurries to Yarrow;[102] up a high, high hill and down into the valley, where she sees nine (ten) dead men, #E#, #F#, #G#, #M# (nine well-armed men, wrongly, #H#).[103] She sees her true-love lying slain, finds him sleeping sound, in Yarrow, #A#, #B#, #J#, #K#. She kisses him and combs his hair, #A#, #E#, #F#, #G#, #I#, #L#, #M#; she drinks the blood that runs from him, #E# 12, #F# 11, #G# 7, #M# 9.[104]

Her hair is five quarters long; she twists it round his hand and draws him home, #C#; ties it round his middle and carries him home, #D#. She takes three lachters of her hair, ties them tight round his middle and carries him home, #B#. _His_ hair is five quarters long! she ties it to her horse’s mane and trails him home, #K#.[105] The carrying strikes one as unpractical, the trailing as barbarous. In #L#, after the lover is slain, the surviving lords and her brother trail him by the heels to Yarrow water and throw him into a whirlpool. The lady, searching for him, sees him ‘deeply drowned.’ His hair, which we must suppose to float, is five quarters long; she twines it round her hand and draws him out. Raising no petty questions, it appears enough to say that this is the only version of fourteen in which the drowning occurs, and that the drowning of the lover is the characteristic of No 215, the next following ballad, which has otherwise been partly confused with this.[106]

The lady’s father urges her to restrain her grief; he will wed her with as good a lord as she has lost, or a better; she rejects his suggestions. Her heart breaks, #B#, #I#; she dies in her father’s arms, #D#, #F-H#, #J-L#, being at the time big with child, #B#, #D#, #F-H#, #J#.

The lady tells her father to wed his sons, #B# 12; his seven sons, #J# 18. So ‘Clerk Saunders’ (of which this may be a reminiscence, for we do not hear of seven sons in this ballad), No 69, #G# 28; cf. #A# 26, #E# 19.

She bids him take home his ousen and his kye, #E# 15, #F# 12, #G# 8, #H# 9. This I conceive to be an interpolation by a reciter who followed the tradition cited from Hogg further on.

The message to the mother to come take up her son in #I# 8 may possibly be a reminiscence from ‘Johnie Cock,’ No 114. It occurs in no other copy, and comes in awkwardly.

‘The Braes of Yarrow’ (‘Busk ye, busk ye, my bony, bony bride’), written by William Hamilton of Bangour “in imitation of the ancient Scottish manner,’ was suggested by this ballad.[107]

‘The Dowy Dens,’ Evans’s Old Ballads, 1810, III, 342, has the same foundation. ‘The Haughs o Yarrow,’ a modern piece in Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 211, repeats with a slight change the third stanza of #O#, and has further on half a stanza from ‘Willie’s rare,’ No 215.

James Hogg, in sending #E# a to Sir Walter Scott, wrote as follows: “Tradition placeth the event on which this song is founded very early. That the song hath been written near the time of the transaction appears quite evident, although, like others, by frequent singing the language is become adapted to an age not so far distant. The bard does not at all relate particulars, but only mentions some striking features of a tragical event which everybody knew. This is observable in many of the productions of early times; at least the secondary bards seem to have regarded their songs as purely temporary.

“The hero of the ballad is said to have been of the name of Scott, and is called a knight of great bravery. He lived in Ettrick, some say at Oakwood, others Kirkhope; but was treacherously slain by his brother-in-law, as related in the ballad, who had him at ill will because his father had parted with the half of all his goods and gear to his sister on her marriage with such a respectable man. The name of the murderer is said to be Annand, a name I believe merely conjectural from the name of the place where they are said both to be buried, which at this day is called Annan’s Treat, a low muir lying to the west of Yarrow church, where two huge tall stones are erected, below which the least child that can walk the road will tell you the two lords are buried that were slain in a duel.”

Sir Walter Scott, in the revised edition of his Minstrelsy, expressed a conviction that this ballad referred to a duel fought between John Scott of Tushielaw and his brother-in-law Walter Scott of Thirlestane, in which the latter was slain.[108] Contemporary entries in the records of the Presbytery of Selkirk show that John Scott, son to Walter of Tushielaw, killed Walter Scott, brother of Sir Robert of Thirlestane, in 1609. The slain Walter Scott was not, however, the brother-in-law of John of Tushielaw, for his wife was a daughter of Sir Patrick Porteous. A violent feud ensued, as might be expected, between the Scotts of Thirlestane and of Tushielaw. Seven years later, in 1616, a Walter Scott of Tushielaw made “an informal and inordinat marriage with Grizel Scott of Thirlestane without consent of her father.” The record of the elopement is three months after followed by an entry of a summons to Simeon Scott of Bonytoun (an adherent of Thirlestane) and three other Scotts “to compear in Melrose to hear themselves excommunicat for the horrible slaughter of Walter Scott” [of Tushielaw]. Disregarding the so-called duel, we have a Walter Scott of Tushielaw carrying off a wife from the Scotts of Thirlestane, with which family he was at feud; and a Walter Scott of Tushielaw horribly slaughtered by Scotts of Thirlestane. These facts correspond rather closely with the incidents of the ballad. We do not know, to be sure, that the two Walter Scotts of Tushielaw were the same person. There were Walter Scotts many; but tradition is capable of confounding the two or the three connected with this series of events. On the other hand, there is nothing in the ballad to connect it preferably with the Scotts; the facts are such as are likely to have occurred often in history, and a similar story is found in other ballads.

In the Scandinavian ballad ‘Herr Helmer,’ Helmer has married a lady whose family are at feud with him for the unatoned slaughter of her uncle; he meets her seven brothers, who will now hear of no satisfaction; there is a fight; Helmer kills six, but spares the seventh, who treacherously kills him: Afzelius, ed. Bergström, I, 264, Arwidsson, I, 155 (etc., see II, 170 of this collection, note ‡). Other forms make the last of the brothers willing to accept an arrangement: ‘Herr Helmer Blau,’ Danske Viser, IV, 251, No 209, ‘Herr Hjælm,’ Grundtvig, Danske Folkeminder, 1861, p. 81. ‘Jomfruen i Skoven,’ Danske Viser, III, 99, No 123, has also several features of our ballad. The hero, on parting from a lady with whom he has passed the night in a wood, is warned by her to avoid her seven brothers. This he is too brave to do, and he meets them. They ask him where are his hawk and his hound. He tries, unsuccessfully, to induce them to give him their sister for wife; they fight; he kills all the seven brothers, and is slain himself, in some way not explained. (These ballads are translated in Prior, III, 371, 230.)

The next ballad has been partially confused with this.

* * * * *

#E b#, Scott’s ballad, is translated by Doenniges, p. 237; by Loève-Veimars, p. 347. Knortz, Lieder und Romanzen Alt-Englands, p. 92, translates Allingham’s ballad.

* * * * *

A

Communicated to Percy by Dr William Robertson, Principal of
Edinburgh.

1
‘I dreamed a dreary dream this night,
That fills my heart wi sorrow;
I dreamed I was pouing the heather green
Upon the braes of Yarrow.

2
‘O true-luve mine, stay still and dine,
As ye ha done before, O;’
‘O I’ll be hame by hours nine,
And frae the braes of Yarrow.’

3
I dreamed a dreary dream this night,
That fills my heart wi sorrow;
I dreamed my luve came headless hame,
O frae the braes of Yarrow!

4
‘O true-luve mine, stay still and dine,
As ye ha done before, O;’
‘O I’ll be hame by hours nine,
And frae the braes of Yarrow.’

5
‘O are ye going to hawke,’ she says,
‘As ye ha done before, O?
Or are ye going to weild your brand,
Upon the braes of Yarrow?’

6
‘O I am not going to hawke,’ he says,
‘As I have done before, O,
But for to meet your brother Jhon,
Upon the braes of Yarrow.’

7
As he gade down yon dowy den,
Sorrow went him before, O;
Nine well-wight men lay waiting him,
Upon the braes of Yarrow.

8
‘I have your sister to my wife,
‘Ye’ think me an unmeet marrow;
But yet one foot will I never flee
Now frae the braes of Yarrow.’

9
‘Than’ four he killd and five did wound,
That was an unmeet marrow!
‘And he had weel nigh wan the day
Upon the braes of Yarrow.’

10
‘Bot’ a cowardly ‘loon’ came him behind,
Our Lady lend him sorrow!
And wi a rappier pierced his heart,
And laid him low on Yarrow.

11
‘Now Douglas’ to his sister’s gane,
Wi meikle dule and sorrow:
‘Gae to your luve, sister,’ he says,
‘He’s sleeping sound on Yarrow.’

12
As she went down yon dowy den,
Sorrow went her before, O;
She saw her true-love lying slain
Upon the braes of Yarrow.

13
‘She swoond thrice upon his breist
That was her dearest marrow;
Said, Ever alace and wae the day
Thou wentst frae me to Yarrow!’

14
She kist his mouth, she kaimed his hair,
As she had done before, O;
She ‘wiped’ the blood that trickled doun
Upon the braes of Yarrow.

15
Her hair it was three quarters lang,
It hang baith side and yellow;
She tied it round ‘her’ white hause-bane,
‘And tint her life on Yarrow.’

* * * * *

B

Murison MS., p. 105; Old Deer, Aberdeenshire.

1
Three lords sat drinking at the wine
I the bonny braes o Yarrow,
An there cam a dispute them between,
Who was the Flower o Yarrow.

2
‘I’m wedded to your sister dear,
Ye coont nae me your marrow;
I stole her fae her father’s back,
An made her the Flower o Yarrow.’

3
‘Will ye try hearts, or will ye try hans,
I the bonnie brace o Yarrow?
Or will ye try the weel airmt sword,
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow?’

4
‘I winna try hearts, I winna try hans,
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow,
But I will try the weel airmt sword,
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow.’

5
‘Ye’ll stay at home, my own good lord,
Ye’ll stay at home tomorrow;
My brethren three they will slay thee,
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow.’

6
‘Bonnie, bonnie shines the sun,
An early sings the sparrow;
Before the clock it will strike nine
An I’ll be home tomorrow.’

7
She’s kissed his mouth, an combed his hair,
As she had done before, O;
She’s dressed him in his noble bow,
An he’s awa to Yarrow.

8
As he gaed up yon high, high hill,
An doon the dens o Yarrow,
An there he spied ten weel airmt men
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow.

9
It’s five he wounded, an five he slew,
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow;
There cam a squire out o the bush,
An pierced his body thorough.

10
‘I dreamed a dream now sin the streen,
God keep us a’ fae sorrow!
That my good lord was sleepin soun
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow.’

11
‘O hold your tongue, my daughter dear,
An tak it not in sorrow;
I’ll wed you wi as good a lord
As you’ve lost this day in Yarrow.’

12
‘O haud your tongue, my father dear,
An wed your sons wi sorrow;
For a fairer flower neer sprang in May nor June
Nor I’ve lost this day in Yarrow.’

13
Fast did she gang, fast did she rin,
Until she cam to Yarrow,
An there she fan her own good lord,
He was sleepin soun in Yarrow.

14
She’s taen three lachters o her hair,
That hung doon her side sae bonny,
An she’s tied them roon his middle tight,
An she’s carried him hame frae Yarrow.

15
This lady being big wi child,
She was fu o grief an sorrow;
Her heart did break, and then she died,
She did not live till morrow.

* * * * *

C

Motherwell’s MS., pp. 334, 331, from the recitation of Agnes Lile,
Kilbarchan, July 19, 1825; learned from her father, who died
fourteen years earlier, at the age of eighty.

1
There were three lords birling at the wine
On the dowie downs o Yarrow;
They made a compact them between
They would go fight tomorrow.

2
‘Thou took our sister to be thy bride,
And thou neer thocht her thy marrow;
Thou stealed her frae her daddie’s back,
When she was the rose o Yarrow.’

3
‘Yes, I took your sister to be my bride,
And I made her my marrow;
I stealed her frae her daddie’s back,
And she’s still the rose o Yarrow.’

4
He is hame to his lady gane,
As he had dune before! O;
Says, Madam, I must go and fight
On the dowie downs o Yarrow.

5
‘Stay at hame, my lord,’ she said,
‘For that will cause much sorrow;
For my brethren three they will slay thee,
On the dowie downs o Yarrow.’

6
‘Hold your tongue, my lady fair,
For what needs a’ this sorrow?
For I’ll be hame gin the clock strikes nine,
From the dowie downs o Yarrow.’

7
She wush his face, she kamed his hair,
As she had dune before, O;
She dressed him up in his armour clear,
Sent him furth to fight on Yarrow.

8
‘Come you here to hawk or hound,
Or drink the wine that’s so clear, O?
Or come you here to eat in your words,
That you’re not the rose o Yarrow?’

9
‘I came not here to hawk or hound,
Nor to drink the wine that’s so clear, O;
Nor I came not here to eat in my words,
For I’m still the rose o Yarrow.’

10
Then they a’ begoud to fight,
I wad they focht richt sore, O,
Till a cowardly man came behind his back,
And pierced his body thorough.

11
‘Gae hame, gae hame, it’s my man John,
As ye have done before, O,
And tell it to my gay lady
That I soundly sleep on Yarrow.’

12
His man John he has gane hame,
As he had dune before, O,
And told it to his gay lady,
That he soundly slept on Yarrow.

13
‘I dreamd a dream now since the streen,
God keep us a’ frae sorrow!
That my lord and I was pu’ing the heather green
From the dowie downs o Yarrow.’

14
Sometimes she rade, sometimes she gaed,
As she had dune before, O,
And aye between she fell in a soune,
Lang or she cam to Yarrow.

15
Her hair it was five quarters lang,
’Twas like the gold for yellow;
She twisted it round his milk-white hand,
And she’s drawn him hame from Yarrow.

16
Out and spak her father dear,
Says, What needs a’ this sorrow?
For I’ll get you a far better lord
Than ever died on Yarrow.

17
‘O hold your tongue, father,’ she said,
‘For ye’ve bred a’ my sorrow;
For that rose’ll neer spring sae sweet in May
As that rose I lost on Yarrow.’

* * * * *

D

Communicated to Percy by Robert Lambe, Norham, April 16, 1768.

1
There were three lords drinking of wine
On the bonny braes of Yarrow;
There fell a combat them between,
_Wha_ was the rose of Yarrow.

2
Up then spak a noble lord,
And I wot it was bot sorrow:
‘I have as fair a flower,’ he said,
‘As ever sprang on Yarrow.’

3
Then he went hame to his ain house,
For to sleep or the morrow,
But the first sound the trumpet gae
Was, Mount and haste to Yarrow.

4
‘Oh stay at hame,’ his lady said,
‘Oh stay untill the morrow,
And I will mount upon a steed,
And ride with you to Yarrow.’

5
‘Oh hawd your tongue, my dear,’ said he,
‘And talk not of the morrow;
This day I have to fight again,
In the dowy deans of Yarrow.’

6
As he went up yon high, high hill,
Down the dowy deans of Yarrow,
There he spy’d ten weel armd men,
There was nane o them his marrow.

7
Five he wounded and five he slew,
In the dowy deans of Yarrow,
But an English-man out of a bush
Shot at him a lang sharp arrow.

8
‘Ye may gang hame, my brethren three,
Ye may gang hame with sorrow,
And say this to my fair lady,
I am sleeping sound on Yarrow.’

9
‘Sister, sister, I dreamt a dream—
You read a dream to gude, O!
That I was puing the heather green
On the bonny braes of Yarrow.’

10
‘Sister, sister, I’ll read your dream,
But alas! it’s unto sorrow;
Your good lord is sleeping sound,
He is lying dead on Yarrow.’

11
She as pu’d the ribbons of her head,
And I wot it was wi sorrow,
And she’s gane up yon high, high hill,
Down the dowy deans of Yarrow.

12
Her hair it was five quarters lang,
The colour of it was yellow;
She as ty’d it round his middle jimp,
And she as carried him frae Yarrow.

13
‘O hawd your tongue!’ her father says,
‘What needs a’ this grief and sorrow?
I’ll wed you on as fair a flower
As ever sprang on Yarrow.’

14
‘No, hawd your tongue, my father dear,
I’m fow of grief and sorrow;
For a fairer flower ne[v]er sprang
Than I’ve lost this day on Yarrow.’

15
This lady being big wi bairn,
And fow of grief and sorrow,
She as died within her father’s arms,
And she died lang or the morrow.

* * * * *

E

#a.# In the handwriting of James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd, about
1801; now in a volume with the title “Scotch Ballads, Materials for
Border Minstrelsy,” No 136, Abbotsford. #b.# Scott’s Minstrelsy,
III, 72, 1803, III, 143, 1833.

1
Late at een, drinkin the wine,
Or early in a mornin,
The set a combat them between,
To fight it in the dawnin.

2
‘O stay at hame, my noble lord!
O stay at hame, my marrow!
My cruel brother will you betray,
On the dowy houms o Yarrow.’

3
‘O fare ye weel, my lady gaye!
O fare ye weel, my Sarah!
For I maun gae, tho I neer return
Frae the dowy banks o Yarrow.’

4
She kissd his cheek, she kaimd his hair,
As she had done before, O;
She belted on his noble brand,
An he’s awa to Yarrow.

5
O he’s gane up yon high, high hill—
I wat he gaed wi sorrow—
An in a den spied nine armd men,
I the dowy houms o Yarrow.

6
‘O ir ye come to drink the wine,
As ye hae doon before, O?
Or ir ye come to wield the brand,
On the bonny banks o Yarrow?’

7
‘I im no come to drink the wine,
As I hae don before, O,
But I im come to wield the brand,
On the dowy houms o Yarrow.’

8
Four he hurt, an five he slew,
On the dowy houms o Yarrow,
Till that stubborn knight came him behind,
An ran his body thorrow.

9
‘Gae hame. gae hame, good-brother John,
An tell your sister Sarah
To come an lift her noble lord,
Who’s sleepin sound on Yarrow.’

10
‘Yestreen I dreamd a dolefu dream;
I kend there wad be sorrow;
I dreamd I pu’d the heather green,
On the dowy banks o Yarrow.’

11
She gaed up yon high, high hill—
I wat she gaed wi sorrow—
An in a den spy’d nine dead men,
On the dowy houms o Yarrow.

12
She kissd his cheek, she kaimd his hair,
As oft she did before, O;
She drank the red blood frae him ran,
On the dowy houms o Yarrow.

13
‘O haud your tongue, my douchter dear,
For what needs a’ this sorrow?
I’ll wed you on a better lord
Than him you lost on Yarrow.’

14
‘O haud your tongue, my father dear,
An dinna grieve your Sarah;
A better lord was never born
Than him I lost on Yarrow.

15
‘Tak hame your ousen, tak hame your kye,
For they hae bred our sorrow;
I wiss that they had a’ gane mad
Whan they cam first to Yarrow.’

* * * * *

F

“From Nelly Laidlaw.” In the handwriting of William Laidlaw, “Scotch
Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 20 a, Abbotsford.

1
Late in the eenin, drinkin the wine,
Or early in the mornin,
The set a combat them between,
To fight it out i the dawnin.

2
She’s kissd his lips, an she’s caimd his hair,
As she did ay afore, O,
She’s belted him in his noble brown,
Afore he gaed to Yarrow.

3
Then he’s away oer yon high hill—
A wait he’s gane wi sorrow—
An in a den he spied nine armd men,
On the dowie banks o Yarrow.

4
‘If I see ye a’, ye ‘r nine for ane,
But ane’s [un]equal marrow;
Yet as lang’s I’m able wield my brand,
I’ll fight an bear ye marrow.

5
‘There are twa swords into my sheath,
The’re ane and equal marrow;
Now wale the best, I’ll take the warst,
An, man for man, I’ll try ye.’

6
He has slain a’ the nine men,
A ane an equal marrow,
But up there startit a stuborn lord,
That gard him sleep on Yarrow.

* * * * * *

7
‘Gae hame, gae hame, my sister Anne,
An tell yer sister Sarah
That she may gang an seek her lord,
He’s lyin sleepin on Yarrow.’

8
‘I dreamd a dream now sin yestreen,
I thought it wad be sorrow;
I thought I was pouin the hether green
On the dowie banks o Yarrow.’

9
Then she’s away oer yon high hill—
I wat she’s gane wi sorrow—
And in a den she’s spy’d ten slain men,
On the dowie banks o Yarrow.

10
‘My love was a’ clad oer last night
Wi the finest o the tartan,
But now he’s a’ clad oer wi red,
An he’s red bluid to the garten.’

11
She’s kissd his lips, she’s caimd his hair,
As she had done before, O;
She drank the red bluid that frae him ran,
On the dowie banks o Yarrow.

12
‘Tak hame your ousen, father, and yer kye,
For they’ve bred muckle sorrow;
I wiss that they had a’ gaen mad
Afore they came to Yarrow.’

13
‘O haud yer tongue, my daughter dear,
For this breeds ay but sorrow;
I’ll wed you to a better lord
Than him you lost on Yarrow.’

14
‘O haud yer tongue, my father dear,
For ye but breed mair sorrow;
A better rose will never spring
Than him I’ve lost on Yarrow.’

15
This lady being big wi child,
An fu o lamentation,
She died within her father’s arms,
Amang this stuborn nation.

* * * * *

G

“Carterhaugh, June 15, 1802.” “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border
Minstrelsy,” No 135, Abbotsford.

* * * * * *

1
She kissd his mouth and she combd his hair,
As she had done before, O,
She belted him in his noble broun,
Before he went to Yarrow.

2
O he’s gone up yon high, [high] hill—
I wat it was with sorrow—
In a den he spied nine weal armd men,
On the bonny banks of Yarrow.

3
‘I see that you are nine for one,
Which are of an unequal marrow;
As lang’s I’m able to wield my bran,
I’ll fight and be your marrow.’

4
O he has killed them a’ but one,
Which bred to him great sorrow;
For up and rose that stubborn lord,
Made him sleep sound in Yarrow.

5
‘Rise up, rise up, my daughter Ann,
Go tell your sister Sarah
She may rise up go lift her lord;
He’s sleeping sound in Yarrow.’

6
She’s gone up yon high, high hill—
I wat it was with sorrow—
And in a den she spied nine slain men,
On the dowie banks o Yarrow.

7
O she kissed his mouth, and she combd his hair,
As she had done before, O;
She drank the bleed that from him ran,
On the dowie banks o Yarrow.

8
‘Take hame your oxen, tak hame your kye,
They’ve bred to me great sorrow;
I wish they had all now gone mad
First when they came to Yarrow.’

9
‘O hold your tongue now, daughter dear,
These words to me’s great sorrow;
I’ll wed you on a better lord
Than you have lost on Yarrow.’

10
‘O hold your tongue now, father dear,
These words to me’s great sorrow;
A brighter O shall there never spread
Than I have lost in Yarrow.’

11
This lady being big with child,
And full of lamentation,
She died unto her father’s arms,
Among the stubborn nation.

* * * * *

H

Campbell MSS, II, 55.

1
’Twas late at evening drinking wine,
And early in the morning,
He set a combat them among,
And he fought it in the morning.

* * * * * *

2
‘I have two swords by my side,
They cost me both gold and money;
Take ye the best, I’ll take the worst,
Come man for man, I’ll try ye.’

3
He has foughten them all round,
His equal man and marrow,
While up bespake the stubborn lord,
‘He’s made them sleep in Yarrow.’

4
He says, Go home, my daughter Ann,
And tell your sister Sarah
To come and lift her stubborn lord;
The lad’s made him sleep in Yarrow.

5
As she gaed up yon high, high hill,
I wot she gaed right sorrow,
And in a den spied nine well armd men,
In the dowie dens of Yarrow.

6
‘My love was dressd in the finest robes,
And of the finest tartan,
And now he’s a’ clad oer wi red,
He’s bloody to the gartan!’

7
‘O hold yer tongue, daughter!’ he says,
‘That would breed but sorrow;
Ye shall be wed to a finer lord
Than the one you’ve lost in Yarrow.’

8
‘Hold your tongue, father!’ she says,
‘For that will breed but sorrow;
A finer lord can neer be born
Than the one I’ve lost in Yarrow.

9
‘Take hame yer ox, and take hame yer kye,
You’ve bred me muckle sorrow;
I wish they’d a’ gane mad that day,
That day they came to Yarrow.’

10
This woman being big wi child,
And full of lamentation,
She died into her father’s arms,
Among that stubborn nation.

* * * * *

I

Buchan’s MSS, II, 161.

1
Ten lords sat drinking at the wine
Intill a morning early;
There fell a combat them among,
It must be fought, nae parley.

2
‘O stay at hame, my ain gude lord!
O stay, my ain dear marrow!’
‘Sweetest min, I will be thine,
An dine wi you tomorrow.’

3
She kissd his lips, an combed his hair,
As she had done before O,
Gied him a brand down by his side,
An he is on to Yarrow.

4
As he gaed oer yon dowey knowe,
As he had dane before O,
Nine armed men lay in a den,
Upo the braes o Yarrow.

5
‘O came ye here to hunt or hawk,
As ye hae dane before O?
Or came ye here to wiel your brand,
Upo the braes o Yarrow?’

6
‘I came nae here to hunt nor hawk,
As I hae done before O;
But I came here to wiel my brand,
Upo the braes o Yarrow.’

7
Four he hurt, an five he slew,
Till down it fell himsell O;
There stood a fause lord him behin,
Who thrust his body thorrow.

8
‘Gae hame, gae hame, my brother John,
An tell your sister sorrow;
Your mither woud come take up her son,
Aff o the braes o Yarrow.’

9
As he gaed oer yon high, high hill,
As he had dane before O,
There he met his sister dear,
Came rinnin fast to Yarrow.

10
‘I dreamd a dream last night,’ she says,
‘I wish it binna sorrow;
I dreamd I was puing the heather green
Upo the braes o Yarrow.’

11
‘I’ll read your dream, sister,’ he says,
‘I’ll read it into sorrow;
Ye’re bidden gae take up your luve,
He’s sleeping sound on Yarrow.’

12
She’s torn the ribbons frae her head—
They were baith thick an narrow—
She’s kilted up her green claithing,
An she’s awa to Yarrow.

13
She’s taen him in her arms twa,
An gaen him kisses thorough,
An wi her tears she bath’d his wounds,
Upo the braes o Yarrow.

14
Her father, looking oer the castle-wa,
Beheld his daughter’s sorrow;
‘O had your tongue, daughter,’ he says,
‘An lat be a’ your sorrow!
I’ll wed you wi a better lord
Than he that died on Yarrow.’