Chapter XXXI: Appendix (7)

22
Then he rade on to plain fields
As swift’s his horse coud hie,
And there he met the proud Seaton,
Come boldly ower the lee.

23
‘Come on to me now, Livingston,
Or then take foot and flee;
This is the day that we must try
Who gains the victorie.’

24
Then they fought with sword in hand
Till they were bluidy men;
But on the point o Seaton’s sword
Brave Livingston was slain.

25
His lady lay ower castle-wa,
Beholding dale and down,
When Blenchant brave, his gallant steed,
Came prancing to the town.

26
‘O where is now my ain gude lord
He stays sae far frae me?’
‘O dinna ye see your ain gude lord
Stand bleeding by your knee?’

27
‘O live, O live, Lord Livingston,
The space o ae half hour,
There’s nae a leech in Edinbro town
But I’ll bring to your door.’

28
‘Awa wi your leeches, lady,’ he said,
‘Of them I’ll be the waur;
There’s nae a leech in Edinbro town
That can strong death debar.

29
‘Ye’ll take the lands o Livingston
And deal them liberallie,
To the auld that may not, the young that cannot,
And blind that does na see,
And help young maidens’ marriages,
That has nae gear to gie.’

30
‘My mother got it in a book,
The first night I was born,
I woud be wedded till a knight,
And him slain on the morn.

31
‘But I will do for my love’s sake
What ladies woudna thole;
Ere seven years shall hae an end,
Nae shoe’s gang on my sole.

32
‘There’s never lint gang on my head,
Nor kame gang in my hair,
Nor ever coal nor candle-light
Shine in my bower mair.’

33
When seven years were near an end,
The lady she thought lang,
And wi a crack her heart did brake,
And sae this ends my sang.

263

THE NEW-SLAIN KNIGHT

‘The New-Slain Knight,’ Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland,
I, 197.

A knight (who twaddles in the first person at the beginning) finds a maid sleeping under a hedge, wakes her, and tells her that he has seen a dead man in her father’s garden. She asks about the dead man’s hawk, hound, sword. His hawk and hound were gone, his horse was tied to a tree, a bloody sword lay under his head. She asks about his clothes, and receives a description, with the addition that his hair was bonny and new combed. ‘I combed it late yesterday!’ says the lady. ‘Who now will shoe my foot, and glove my hand, and father my bairn?’ The knight offers himself for all these, but the lady will commit herself only to Heaven. The knight, after knacking his fingers quite superfluously, unmasks; he has only been making a trial of her truth.

A large part of this piece is imitated or taken outright from very well known ballads (as has already been pointed out by the editor of the Ballad Minstrelsy of Scotland, 1871, p. 345): 5–8 from ‘Young Johnstone,’ No 88; 10, 11 from ‘The Lass of Roch Royal,’ No 76 (see particularly #E# 1–4, and compare No 66, #A# 24, etc.); for 13^{1,2} see No 91, #B# 5^1, 6^1, 7^1, #D# 7^{1,2}, No 257, #A# 7.

Grundtvig notes that this piece is of the same description as the Danish ‘Troskabspröven,’ Danmarks gamle Folkeviser, IV, 553, No 252, one version of which is translated by Prior, III, 289, No 146. Naturally, the fidelity of maid or wife is celebrated in the ballads of every tongue and people. This particular ballad, so far as it is original, is of very ordinary quality. The ninth stanza is pretty, but not quite artless.

Translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og skotske Folkeviser, p. 294, No 46.

* * * * *

1
My heart is lighter than the poll;
My folly made me glad,
As on my rambles I went out,
Near by a garden-side.

2
I walked on, and farther on,
Love did my heart engage;
There I spied a well-faird maid,
Lay sleeping near a hedge.

3
Then I kissd her with my lips
And stroked her with my hand:
‘Win up, win up, ye well-faird maid,
This day ye sleep oer lang.

4
‘This dreary sight that I hae seen
Unto my heart gives pain;
At the south side o your father’s garden,
I see a knight lies slain.’

5
‘O what like was his hawk, his hawk?
Or what like was his hound?
And what like was the trusty brand
This new-slain knight had on?’

6
‘His hawk and hound were from him gone,
His steed tied to a tree;
A bloody brand beneath his head,
And on the ground lies he.’

7
‘O what like was his hose, his hose?
And what like were his shoon?
And what like was the gay clothing
This new-slain knight had on?’

8
‘His coat was of the red scarlet,
His waistcoat of the same;
His hose were of the bonny black,
And shoon laced with cordin.

9
‘Bonny was his yellow hair,
For it was new combd down;’
Then, sighing sair, said the lady fair,
‘I combd it late yestreen.

10
‘O wha will shoe my fu fair foot?
Or wha will glove my hand?
Or wha will father my dear bairn,
Since my love’s dead and gane?’

11
‘O I will shoe your fu fair foot,
And I will glove your hand;
And I’ll be father to your bairn,
Since your love’s dead and gane.’

12
‘I winna father my bairn,’ she said,
‘Upon an unkent man;
I’ll father it on the King of Heaven,
Since my love’s dead and gane.’

13
The knight he knackd his white fingers,
The lady tore her hair;
He’s drawn the mask from off his face,
Says, Lady, mourn nae mair.

14
‘For ye are mine, and I am thine,
I see your love is true;
And if I live and brook my life
Ye’se never hae cause to rue.’

* * * * *

10^1, 11^1. fair fu.

264

THE WHITE FISHER

‘The White Fisher,’ Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, I,
200.

A young lord, Willie, asks his ‘gay lady’ whose the child is that she is going with. She owns that a priest is the father, which does not appear to disconcert Willie. A boy is born, and the mother charges Willie to throw him into the sea, ‘never to return till white fish he bring hame.’ Willie takes the boy (now called his son) to his mother, and tells her that his ‘bride’ is a king’s daughter; upon which his mother, who had had an ill opinion of the lady, promises to do as well by Willie’s son as she had done by Willie. Returning to his wife, he finds her weeping and repining for the ‘white fisher’ that she had ‘sent to the sea.’ Willie offers her a cordial; she says that the man who could have drowned her son would be capable of poisoning her. Willie then tells her that his mother has the boy in charge; she is consoled, and declares that if he had not been the father she should not have been the mother.

To make this story hang together at all, we must suppose that the third and fourth stanzas are tropical, and that Willie was the priest; or else that they are sarcastic, and are uttered in bitter resentment of Willie’s suspicion, or affected suspicion. But we need not trouble ourselves much to make these counterfeits reasonable. Those who utter them rely confidently upon our taking folly and jargon as the marks of genuineness. The white fisher is a trumpery fancy; 2, 7, 8, 12 are frippery commonplaces.

* * * * *

1
‘It is a month, and isna mair,
Love, sin I was at thee,
But find a stirring in your side;
Who may the father be?

2
‘Is it to a lord of might,
Or baron of high degree?
Or is it to the little wee page
That rode along wi me?’

3
‘It is not to a man of might,
Nor baron of high degree,
But it is to a popish priest;
My lord, I winna lie.

4
‘He got me in my bower alone,
As I sat pensively;
He vowed he would forgive my sins,
If I would him obey.’

5
Now it fell ance upon a day
This young lord went from home,
And great and heavy were the pains
That came this lady on.

6
Then word has gane to her gude lord,
As he sat at the wine,
And when the tidings he did hear
Then he came singing hame.

7
When he came to his own bower-door,
He tirled at the pin:
‘Sleep ye, wake ye, my gay lady,
Ye’ll let your gude lord in.’

8
Huly, huly raise she up,
And slowly put she on,
And slowly came she to the door;
She was a weary woman.

9
‘Ye’ll take up my son, Willie,
That ye see here wi me,
And hae him down to yon shore-side,
And throw him in the sea.

10
‘Gin he sink, ye’ll let him sink,
Gin he swim, ye’ll let him swim;
And never let him return again
Till white fish he bring hame.’

11
Then he’s taen up his little young son,
And rowd him in a band,
And he is on to his mother,
As fast as he could gang.

12
‘Ye’ll open the door, my mother dear,
Ye’ll open, let me come in;
My young son is in my arms twa,
And shivering at the chin.’

13
‘I tauld you true, my son Willie,
When ye was gaun to ride,
That lady was an ill woman
That ye chose for your bride.’

14
‘O hold your tongue, my mother dear,
Let a’ your folly be;
I wat she is a king’s daughter
That’s sent this son to thee.

15
‘I wat she was a king’s daughter
I loved beyond the sea,
And if my lady hear of this
Right angry will she be.’

16
‘If that be true, my son Willie—
Your ain tongue winna lie—
Nae waur to your son will be done
Than what was done to thee.’

17
He’s gane hame to his lady,
And sair mourning was she:
‘What ails you now, my lady gay,
Ye weep sa bitterlie?’

18
‘O bonny was the white fisher
That I sent to the sea;
But lang, lang will I look for fish
Ere white fish he bring me!

19
‘O bonny was the white fisher
That ye kiest in the faem;
But lang, lang will I look for fish
Ere white fish he fetch hame!

20
‘I fell a slumbering on my bed
That time ye went frae me,
And dreamd my young son filld my arms,
But when waked, he’s in the sea.’

21
‘O hold your tongue, my gay lady,
Let a’ your mourning be,
And I’ll gie you some fine cordial,
My love, to comfort thee.’

22
‘I value not your fine cordial,
Nor aught that ye can gie;
Who could hae drownd my bonny young son
Could as well poison me.’

28
‘Cheer up your heart, my lily flower,
Think nae sic ill o me;
Your young son’s in my mother’s bower,
Set on the nourice knee.

24
‘Now, if ye’ll be a gude woman,
I’ll neer mind this to thee;
Nae waur is done to your young son
Than what was done to me.’

25
‘Well fell’s me now, my ain gude lord;
These words do cherish me;
If it hadna come o yoursell, my lord,
‘T would neer hae come o me.’

* * * * *

7^3. Ye sleep ye, wake ye.

265

THE KNIGHT’S GHOST

‘The Knight’s Ghost,’ Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, I,
227.

A lady who is expecting the return of her lord from sea goes down to the strand to meet him. The ship comes in, but the sailors tell her that she will never see her husband; he has been slain. She invites the men to drink with her, takes them down to the cellar, makes them drunk, locks the door, and bids them lie there for the bad news they have told; then she throws the keys into the sea, to lie there till her lord returns. After these efforts she falls asleep in her own room, and her dead lord starts up at her feet; he brings the keys with him, and charges her to release his men, who had done their best for him and were not to blame for his death. The lady, to turn this visit to the more account, asks to be informed what day she is to die, and what day to be buried. The knight is not empowered to answer, but, come to heaven when she will, he will be her porter. He sees no objection to telling her that she will be married again and have nine children, six ladies free and three bold young men.

The piece has not a perceptible globule of old blood in it, yet it has had the distinction of being more than once translated as a specimen of Scottish popular ballads. ‘Monie’ in 2^2 may be plausibly read, or understood, ‘menie,’ retinue; still the antecedent presumption in favor of nonsense in ballads of this class makes one hesitate. 7^{3,4} is unnatural; no dissembling would be required to induce the young men to drink. In 8^3, ‘birled them wi the beer’ is what we should expect, not ‘birled wi them.’

Translated by Rosa Warrens, Schottische Volkslieder der Vorzeit, p. 57, No 13; by Gerhard, p. 154.

* * * * *

1
‘There is a fashion in this land,
And even come to this country,
That every lady should meet her lord
When he is newly come frae sea:

2
‘Some wi hawks, and some wi hounds,
And other some wi gay monie;
But I will gae myself alone,
And set his young son on his knee.’

3
She’s taen her young son in her arms,
And nimbly walkd by yon sea-strand,
And there she spy’d her father’s ship,
As she was sailing to dry land.

4
‘Where hae ye put my ain gude lord,
This day he stays sae far frae me?’
‘If ye be wanting your ain gude lord,
A sight o him ye’ll never see.’

5
‘Was he brunt? or was he shot?
Or was he drowned in the sea?
Or what’s become o my ain gude lord,
That he will neer appear to me?’

6
‘He wasna brunt, nor was he shot,
Nor was he drowned in the sea;
He was slain in Dumfermling,
A fatal day to you and me.’

7
‘Come in, come in, my merry young men,
Come in and drink the wine wi me;
And a’ the better ye shall fare
For this gude news ye tell to me.’

8
She’s brought them down to yon cellar,
She brought them fifty steps and three;
She birled wi them the beer and wine,
Till they were as drunk as drunk could be.

9
Then she has lockd her cellar-door,
For there were fifty steps and three:
‘Lie there, wi my sad malison,
For this bad news ye’ve tauld to me.’

10
She’s taen the keys intill her hand
And threw them deep, deep in the sea:
‘Lie there, wi my sad malison,
Till my gude lord return to me.’

11
Then she sat down in her own room,
And sorrow lulld her fast asleep,
And up it starts her own gude lord,
And even at that lady’s feet.

12
‘Take here the keys, Janet,’ he says,
‘That ye threw deep, deep in the sea;
And ye’ll relieve my merry young men,
For they’ve nane o the swick o me.

13
‘They shot the shot, and drew the stroke,
And wad in red bluid to the knee;
Nae sailors mair for their lord coud do
Nor my young men they did for me.’

14
‘I hae a question at you to ask,
Before that ye depart frae me;
You’ll tell to me what day I’ll die,
And what day will my burial be?’

15
‘I hae nae mair o God’s power
Than he has granted unto me;
But come to heaven when ye will,
There porter to you I will be.

16
‘But ye’ll be wed to a finer knight
Than ever was in my degree;
Unto him ye’ll hae children nine,
And six o them will be ladies free.

17
‘The other three will be bold young men,
To fight for king and countrie;
The ane a duke, the second a knight,
And third a laird o lands sae free.’

ADDITIONS AND CORRECTIONS

VOL. I.

1. Riddles Wisely Expounded.

Pp. 1–3, 484; II, 495 a. #Little-Russian#. Three lads give a girl riddles. ‘If you guess right, shall you be ours?’ Golovatsky, II, 83, 19. Two other pieces in the same, III, 180, 55. (W. W.)

A king’s daughter, or other maid, makes the reading of her riddles a condition of marriage in several Polish tales; it may be further stipulated that a riddle shall be also given which the woman cannot guess, or that those who fail shall forfeit their life. Karłowicz in Wisła, III, 258, 270, where are cited, besides a MS. communication, Zbiór wiadomości do antropologii krajowej, V, 194, VII, 12; Gli[‘n]ski, Bajarz Polski, III, No 1; Kolberg, Krakowskie, IV, 204.

2. The Elfin Knight.

P. 7 a. The last two stanzas of #F# are also in Kinloch MSS, V, 275, with one trivial variation, and the burden, ‘And then, etc.’

Sir Walter Scott had a copy beginning, ‘There lived a wife in the wilds of Kent:’ Sharpe’s Ballad Book, 1880, p. 147 f.

7 b, 484 a. Add: #P#, #Q#, Hruschka u. Toischer, Deutsche Volkslieder aus Böhmen, p. 171, No 124, a, b.

7 b, III, 496 a. ‘Store Fordringer,’ Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 342, No 85 (with the stupid painted roses).

7 f, 484 a, II, 495 a, III, 496 a. Add: ‘I tre Tamburi,’ Ferraro, C. P. del Basso Monferrato, p. 52; ‘Il Compito,’ Romaic, Tommaseo, III, 13 (already cited by Nigra).

8 a, II, 495 a. Tasks. #Servian# ballads. Karadžić, Sr. n. pj., I, 164, No 240, ‘The Spinster and the Tsar;’ I, 165, No 242, ‘The Spinster and the Goldsmith.’ Cf. I, 166, No 243. Also, Karadžić, Sr. n. pj. iz Herz., p. 217, No 191; Petranović, I, 13, No 16 (where the girl’s father sets the tasks), and p. 218, No 238; Rajković, p. 209, No 237. #Bulgarian.# Collection of the Bulgarian Ministry of Public Instruction, II, 31, 3; III, 28, 4. Cf. Verković, p. 52, 43; Bezsonov, II, 74, 105; Miladinof, p. 471, 536. #Russian.# An episode in the old Russian legend of Prince Peter of Murom and his wife Fevronija, three versions: Kušelev-Bezborodko, Monuments of Old Russian Literature, I, 29 ff. (W. W.)

Wit-contests in verse, the motive of love or marriage having probably dropped out. Polish. Five examples are cited by Karłowicz, Wisła, III, 267 ff.: Kolberg, Krakowskie, II, 149, and Mazowsze, II, 149, No 332, Zbiór wiad. do antrop., X, 297, No 217, and two not before printed. Moravian examples from Sušil, p. 692 f., No 809, p. 701 ff., No 815: make me a shirt without needle or thread, twist me silk out of oaten straw; count me the stars, build me a ladder to go up to them; drain the Red Sea, make me a bucket that will hold it; etc. Zapolski, White Russian Weddings and Wedding-Songs, p. 35, No 19. Wisła, as before, III, 532 ff.

Polish tales of The Clever Wench are numerous: Wisła, III, 270 ff.

13 b. A fragment of a riddle given by a wise man to the gods is preserved in a cuneiform inscription: [What is that] which is in the house? which roars like a bull? which growls like a bear? which enters into the heart of a man? etc. The answer is evidently air, wind. George Smith, The Chaldean Account of Genesis, 1876, p. 156 : cited by J. Karłowicz, Wisła, III, 273.

15–20, 484 f., II, 495 f. Communicated by the Rev. S. Baring-Gould. “From the north of Cornwall, near Camelford. This used to be sung as a sort of game in farm-houses, between a young man who went outside the room and a girl who sat on the settle or a chair, and a sort of chorus of farm lads and lasses. Now quite discontinued.” The dead lover represents the auld man in #I#.

1
A fair pretty maiden she sat on her bed,
The wind is blowing in forest and town
She sighed and she said, O my love he is dead!
And the wind it shaketh the acorns down

2
The maiden she sighed; ‘I would,’ said she,
‘That again my lover might be with me!’

3
Before ever a word the maid she spake,
But she for fear did shiver and shake.

4
There stood at her side her lover dead;
‘Take me by the hand, sweet love,’ he said.

5
. . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . .

6
‘Thou must buy me, my lady, a cambrick shirt,
Whilst every grove rings with a merry antine
And stitch it without any needle-work.
O and thus shalt thou be a true love of mine

7
‘And thou must wash it in yonder well,
Whilst, etc.
Where never a drop of water in fell.
O and thus, etc.

8
‘And thou must hang it upon a white thorn
That never has blossomed since Adam was born.

9
‘And when that these tasks are finished and done
I’ll take thee and marry thee under the sun.’

10
‘Before ever I do these two and three,
I will set of tasks as many to thee.

11
‘Thou must buy for me an acre of land
Between the salt ocean and the yellow sand.

12
‘Thou must plough it oer with a horse’s horn,
And sow it over with one peppercorn.

13
‘Thou must reap it too with a piece of leather,
And bind it up with a peacock’s feather.

14
‘And when that these tasks are finished and done,
O then will I marry thee under the sun.’

15
‘Now thou hast answered me well,’ he said,
The wind, etc.
‘Or thou must have gone away with the dead.’
And the wind, etc.

16
. . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . .

Mr Frank Kidsen has given a copy of ‘Scarborough Fair,’ with some better readings, as sung “in Whitby streets twenty or thirty years ago,” in Traditional Tunes, p. 43, 1891.

* * * * *

1–4, _second line of burden_, true love.

2^2. Without any seam or needlework.

3^1. yonder dry well.

3^2. no water sprung.

4^1. Tell her to dry it on yonder thorn.

4^2. Which never bore blossom since.

5, 6. _Wanting._

7^1. O will you find me.

7^2. Between the sea-foam [and] the sea-sand. Or never be a true
lover of mine.

8^1. O will you plough.

9^1. O will you reap it.

9^2. And tie it all up.

10^1. And when you have done and finished your work.

10^2. You may come to me for your. And then you shall be a. _At p.
172, the first stanza of another version is given, with_ Rue,
parsley, rosemary and thyme _for the first line of the burden_.

3. The Fause Knight upon the Road.

Pp. 20, 485 (also, 14 a, 484 a), III, 496 a. Foiling mischievous sprites and ghosts by getting the last word, or prolonging talk till the time when they must go, especially the noon-sprite: Wisła, III, 275 f., and notes 44–6; also, 269 f. The Wends have the proverbial phrase, to ask as many questions as a noon-sprite. The Poles have many stories of beings that take service without wages, on condition of no fault being found, and make off instantly upon the terms being broken.

20, III, 496 a. The last verses of ‘Tsanno d’Oymé,’ Daymard, Vieux Chants pop. recueillis en Quercy, p. 70, are after the fashion of this ballad.

‘Tsano d’Oymé, atal fuessés négado!’
‘Lou fil del rey, et bous né fuessés l’aygo!’

‘Tsano d’Oymé, atal fuessés brullado!’
‘Lou fil del rey, et bous fuessés las clappos!’

4. Lady Isabel and the Elf-Knight.

P. 24 a. A copy in Christie’s Traditional Ballad Airs, II, 236, ‘May Colvine and Fause Sir John’ (of which no account is given), is a free compilation from #D b#, #D a#, and #C c#.

The Gaelic tale referred to by Jamieson may be seen, as Mr Macmath has pointed out to me, in Rev. Alexander Stewart’s ’Twixt Ben Nevis and Glencoe, Edinburgh, 1885, p. 205 ff. Dr Stewart gives nine stanzas of a Gaelic ballad, and furnishes an English rendering. The story has no connection with that of No 4.

25 b, note. ‘Halewyn en het kleyne Kind,’ in the first volume of the MS. Poésies pop. de la France, was communicated by Crussemaker, and is the same piece that he printed. Other copies in Lootens et Feys, No 45, p. 85 (see p. 296); Volkskunde, II, 194, ‘Van Mijn-heerken van Bruindergestem.’

27 a, note †. Add: MacInness, Folk and Hero Tales [Gaelic], p. 301, a Highland St George: see I, 487, note.

27 f. Professor Bugge, Arkiv för nordisk Filologi, VII, 120–36, 1891, points out that a Swedish ballad given in Grundtvig, D. g. F. IV, 813 f., #F#, and here referred to under ‘Hind Etin,’ I, 364 b, as Swedish #C#, has resemblances with ‘Kvindemorderen.’ Fru Malin is combing her hair _al fresco_, when a suitor enters her premises; he remarks that a crown would sit well on her head. The lady skips off to her chamber, and exclaims, Christ grant he may wish to be mine! The suitor follows her, and asks, Where is the fair dame who wishes to be mine? But when Fru Malin comes to table she is in trouble, and the suitor puts her several leading questions. She is sad, not for any of several reasons suggested, but for the bridge under which her seven sisters (syskon) lie. ‘Sorrow not,’ he says, ‘we shall build the bridge so broad and long that four-and-twenty horses may go over at a time.’ They pass through a wood; on the bridge her horse stumbles, and she is thrown into the water. She cries for help; she will give him her gold crown. He cares nothing for the crown, and never will help her out. Bugge maintains that this ballad is not, as Grundtvig considered it, a compound of ‘Nökkens Svig’ and ‘Harpens Kraft,’ but an independent ballad, ‘The Bride Drowned,’ of a set to which belong ‘Der Wasserman,’ Haupt and Schmaler, I, 62, No 34, and many German ballads: see Grundtvig, IV, 810 f, and here I, 365 f., 38.

29–37, 486 a. Add: #E E#, Hruschka u. Toischer, Deutsche Volkslieder aus Böhmen, p. 126, No 35. Like #Q#, p. 35.

39 ff. The Polish ballad ‘Jás i Kasia.’ Mr John Karłowicz has given, in Wisła, IV, 393–424, the results of a study of this ballad, and they are here briefly summarized.

Ten unprinted versions are there added to the large number already published, making about ninety copies, if fragments are counted. Copies not noted at I, 39, 486, are, besides these ten, the following. Kolberg, Krakowskie, II, 111, 168, Nos 208, 336; Kieleckie, II, 148, No 453; Leęczychie, p. 131, No 223; Lubelskie, I, 289 ff., Nos 473, 474; Pozna[‘n]skie, IV, 63, No 131; Mazowsze, III, 274, No 386, IV, 320, No 346. Zbiór wiadomości do antropologii krajowej, II, 78, Nos 89, 90; IV, 129; X, 123. Wisła, II, 132, 159. Prace filologiczne, II, 568. Keętrzy[‘n]ski, O Mazurach, p. 35, No 1. Zawili[‘n]ski, Z powieści i pieśni górali beskidowych, p. 88, No 66. Wasilewski, Jagodne, etc., No 120. Federowski, Lud okolic Żarek, etc., p. 102, No 49.

Most of the ten versions printed in Wisła agree with others previously published; in some there are novel details. In No 3, p. 398, Kasia, thrown into the water by her lover, is rescued by her brother. In No 10, p. 404, Jás, when drowning the girl, tells her that he has drowned four already, and she shall be the fifth; her brother comes sliding down a silken rope; fishermen take the girl out dead. There are still only two of all the Polish versions in which Catharine kills John, #A a#, #b#. The name Ligar, in the latter, points clearly, Mr Karłowicz remarks, to the U-linger, Ad-elger, Ol-legehr of the German versions, and he is convinced that the ballad came into Poland from Germany, although the girl is not drowned in the German ballad, as in the Polish, English, and French.

John, who is commonly the hero in the Polish ballad, is at the beginning of many copies declared to have sung, and the words have no apparent sense. But we observe that in the versions of western Europe the hero plays on the horn, sings a seductive song, promises to teach the girl to sing, etc.; the unmeaning Polish phrase is therefore a survival.

In many of the German versions a bird warns the maid of her danger. This feature is found once only in Polish: in Zawili[‘n]ski (No 69 A of Karłowicz).

At p. 777 of Sušil’s Moravian Songs there are two other versions which I have not noticed, the second of them manifestly derived from Poland.

There is a Little-Russian ballad which begins like the Polish ‘Jás i Kasia,’ but ends with the girl being tied to a tree and burned, instead of being drowned: Wisła, IV, 423, from Zbiór wiadom. do antrop., III, 150, No 17. Traces of the incident of the burning are also found in Polish and Moravian songs: Wisła, pp. 418–22. It is probable that there were two independent ballads, and that these have been confounded.

42 a, III, 497 a. #A#. Add: ‘Renaud et ses Femmes,’ Revue des Traditions Populaires, VI, 34.

43 a. ‘Lou Cros dé Proucinello,’ Daymard, Vieux Chants p. recueillis en Quercy, p. 130, has at the end two traits of this ballad. A young man carries off a girl whom he has been in love with seven years; he throws her into a ravine; as she falls, she catches at a tree; he cuts it away; she cries, What shall I do with my pretty gowns? and is answered, Give them to me for another mistress. Cf. also Daymard, p. 128.

43 b, III, 497 a. ‘La Fille de Saint-Martin.’ Add: ‘Le Mari Assassin,’ Chanson du pays de Caux, Revue des Traditions Populaires, IV, 133.

43 f., 488 a, III, 497. #Italian.# The ballad in Nannarelli (488 a) I have seen: it is like ‘La Monferrina incontaminata.’ Add: ‘La bella Inglese,’ Salvadori, in Giornale di Filologia Romanza, II, 201; ‘Un’ eroina,’ A. Giannini, Canzoni del Contado di Massa Lunense, No 1, Archivio, VIII, 273; [‘Montiglia’], [‘Inglesa’], Bolognini, Annuario degli Alpinisti Tridentini, XIII, Usi e Costumi del Trentino, 1888, p. 37 f.

44 b. ‘La Princesa Isabel,’ Pidal, Romancero Asturiano, p. 350 (sung by children as an accompaniment to a game), is a variety of ‘Rico Franco.’

45 a, 488 a. Another Portuguese version, ‘O caso de D. Ignez,’ Braga, Ampliações ao Romanceiro das Ilhas dos Açores, Revista Lusitana, I, 103.

45 b. Breton, 5. Marivonnic also in Quellien, Chansons et Danses des Bretons, 1889, p. 99.

50 b, note ǁ. As to this use of blood, cf. H. von Wlisłocki, Volksthümliches zum Armen Heinrich, Ztschr. f. deutsche Philologie, 1890, XXIII, 217 ff; Notes and Queries, 7th Series, VIII, 363. (G. L. K.)

55. #B#. A copy in Walks near Edinburgh, by Margaret Warrender, 1890, p. 104, differs from #B b# in only a few words, as any ordinary recollection would. As:

* * * * *

4^3, 6^3, 8^3. my guid steed.

9^4. It will gar our loves to twine.

10^4. An I’ll ring for you the bell.

11^3. Grant me ae kiss o your fause, fause mouth (_improbable
reading_).

14^2. she won.

14^3. most heartily.

56 ff., 488 f., II, 497 f.

The copy of ‘May Collin’ which follows is quite the best of the series #C-G#. It is written on the same sheet of paper as the “copy of some antiquity” used by Scott in making up his ‘Gay Goss Hawk’ (ed. 1802, II, 7). The sheet is perhaps as old as any in the volume in which it occurs, but may possibly not be the original. ‘May Collin’ is not in the same hand as the other ballad.

According to the preface to a stall-copy spoken of by Motherwell, Minstrelsy, p. lxx, 24, “the treacherous and murder-minting lover was an ecclesiastic of the monastery of Maybole,” and the preface to #D d# (see I, 488) makes him a Dominican friar. So, if we were to accept these guides, the ‘Sir’ would be the old ecclesiastical title and equivalent to the ‘Mess’ of the copy now to be given.

‘May Collin,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 146, Abbotsford.

1
May Collin . . . . .
. . . was her father’s heir,
And she fell in love with a falsh priest,
And she rued it ever mair.

2
He followd her butt, he followd her benn,
He followd her through the hall,
Till she had neither tongue nor teeth
Nor lips to say him naw.

3
‘We’ll take the steed out where he is,
The gold where eer it be,
And we’ll away to some unco land,
And married we shall be.’

4
They had not riden a mile, a mile,
A mile but barely three,
Till they came to a rank river,
Was raging like the sea.

5
‘Light off, light off now, May Collin,
It’s here that you must die;
Here I have drownd seven king’s daughters,
The eight now you must be.

6
‘Cast off, cast off now, May Collin,
Your gown that’s of the green;
For it’s oer good and oer costly
To rot in the sea-stream.

7
‘Cast off, cast off now, May Collin,
Your coat that’s of the black;
For it’s oer good and oer costly
To rot in the sea-wreck.

8
‘Cast off, cast off now, May Collin,
Your stays that are well laced;
For thei’r oer good and costly
In the sea’s ground to waste.

9
‘Cast [off, cast off now, May Collin,]
Your sark that’s of the holland;
For [it’s oer good and oer costly]
To rot in the sea-bottom.’

10
‘Turn you about now, falsh Mess John,
To the green leaf of the tree;
It does not fit a mansworn man
A naked woman to see.’

11
He turnd him quickly round about,
To the green leaf of the tree;
She took him hastly in her arms
And flung him in the sea.

12
‘Now lye you there, you falsh Mess John,
My mallasin go with thee!
You thought to drown me naked and bare,
But take your cloaths with thee,
And if there be seven king’s daughters there
Bear you them company.’

13
She lap on her milk steed
And fast she bent the way,
And she was at her father’s yate
Three long hours or day.

14
Up and speaks the wylie parrot,
So wylily and slee:
‘Where is the man now, May Collin,
That gaed away wie thee?’

15
‘Hold your tongue, my wylie parrot,
And tell no tales of me,
And where I gave a pickle befor
It’s now I’ll give you three.’

* * * * *

1^{1,2}. _One line_: May Collin was her father’s heir.

7^4. on the.

8^4. ina? _indistinct._

12^5. 7.

5. Gil Brenton.

P. 63 b. #Swedish.# ‘Riddar Olof,’ Lagus, Nyländska Folkvisor, I, 63, No 16, _a_, _b_, imperfect copies.

64 b. #Danish.# ‘Den rette Brudgom’ (Samson and Vendelru), Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 363, No 97.

65 b. ‘Herr Peders Hustru,’ the same, p. 365,==Grundtvig, No 278.

70. #B#. The three stanzas which follow were communicated to Scott by Major Henry Hutton, Royal Artillery, 24th December, 1802 (Letters, I, No 77), as recollected by his father and the family. “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 18. Instead of 3, 4:

There’s five o them with meal and malt,
And other five wi beef and salt;
There’s five o them wi well-bak’d bread,
And other five wi goud so red.

There’s five o them wi the ladies bright,
There’s other five o belted knights;
There’s five o them wi a good black neat,
And other five wi bleating sheep.

“And before the two last stanzas, introduce”

O there was seald on his breast-bane,
‘Cospatric is his father’s name;’
O there was seald on his right hand
He should inherit his father’s land.

so _is written over the second_ and _in_ 1^2.

7. Earl Brand.

P. 88. ‘Ribold og Guldborg:’ Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 33, ‘Nævnet til døde,’ No 15, #A-I#.

91 b. #Swedish.# ‘Kung Valdemo,’ ‘Ellibrand och Fröken Gyllenborg,’ Lagus, Nyländska Folkvisor, I, 1, No 1, _a_, _b_. (“Name not my name,” _a_ 20, _b_ 12.)

95 b, 489 b; III, 498 a. For the whole subject, see K. Nyrop. Navnets Magt, 1887, and especially sections 4, 5, pp. 46–70. As to reluctance to have one’s name known, and the advantage such knowledge gives an adversary, see E. Clodd, in The Folk Lore Journal, VII, 154 ff., and, in continuation, Folk-Lore, I, 272.

The berserkr Glammaðr could pick off any man with his pike, if only he knew his name. Saga Egils ok Ásmundar, Rafn, Fornaldar Sögur, III, 387, Ásmundarson, F. s. Norðrlanða, III, 292. (G. L. K.)

The demonic Gelô informs certain saints who force her “to tell them how other people’s children [may] be defended from her attacks,” that if they “can write her twelve names and a half she shall never be able to come within seventy-five stadia and a half:” Thomas Wright, Essays on Subjects connected with the Literature, etc., of the Middle Ages, 1846, I, 294 (referring to Leo Allatius, De Græcorum hodie quorundam opinationibus). The passage in question is to be found at p. 127 of Leo Allatius, De templis Græcorum recentioribus, ad Ioannem Morinum; De Narthece ecclesiæ veteris; nec non De Græcorum hodie quorundam opinationibus, ad Paullum Zacchiam. Coloniæ Agrippinæ, 1645. (G. L. K.)

96 b. #Swedish.# Two copies of ‘Rosen lilla’ in Lagus, Nyländska Folkvisor, I, 37, No 10.

#Danish.# Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 215, No 52, #C# 9, two lilies; p. 318, No 78, 9, 10, graves south and north, two lilies.

97 b. #French.# ‘Les deux Amoureux,’ Daymard, Vieux Chants p. rec. en Quercy, p. 122, lavender and tree.

97 b, 489 b, II, 498 a, III, 498 b. #Slavic.# (1.) White-Russian: he buried in church, she in ditch; plane and linden (planted); plane embraces linden. MS. (2.) Little-Russian: buried apart; plane grows over his grave, two birches over hers; branches do _not_ interlace. Kolberg, Pokucie, p. 41. (3.) White-Russian: he in church, she near church; oak, birch (planted); trees touch. Zbiór wiado do antropol., XIII, 102 f. (4.) Little-Russian: burial apart in a church; rosemary and lily from graves. Var.: rose and sage, rosemary; flowers interlace. Holovatzky, III, 254. (J. Karłowicz, in Mélusine, V, 39 ff.)

#Bulgarian.# A poplar from the maid’s grave, a pine from her lover’s: Collection of the Bulgarian Ministry of Instruction, I, 35. (W. W.)

97 b, 490 a, III, 498 b. #Breton.# Luzel, Soniou, I, 272–3: a tree from the young man’s grave, a rose from the maid’s.

99 ff., 490 ff. ‘The Earl o Bran,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 22 b, Abbotsford; in the handwriting of Richard Heber.

1
Did ye ever hear o guid Earl o Bran
An the queen’s daughter o the south-lan?

2
She was na fifteen years o age
Till she came to the Earl’s bed-side.

3
‘O guid Earl o Bran, I fain wad see
My grey hounds run over the lea.’

4
‘O kind lady, I have no steeds but one,
But ye shall ride, an I shall run.’

5
‘O guid Earl o Bran, but I have tua,
An ye shall hae yere wael o those.’

6
The’re ovr moss an the’re over muir,
An they saw neither rich nor poor.

7
Till they came to ald Carl Hood,
He’s ay for ill, but he’s never for good.

8
‘O guid Earl o Bran, if ye loe me,
Kill Carl Hood an gar him die.’

9
‘O kind lady, we had better spare;
I never killd ane that wore grey hair.

10
‘We’ll gie him a penny-fie an let him gae,
An then he’ll carry nae tiddings away.’

11
‘Where hae been riding this lang simmer-day?
Or where hae stolen this lady away?’

12
‘O I hae not riden this lang simmer-day,
Nor hae I stolen this lady away.

13
‘For she is my sick sister
I got at the Wamshester.’

14
‘If she were sick an like to die,
She wad na be wearing the gold sae high.’

15
Ald Carl Hood is over the know,
Where they rode one mile, he ran four.

16
Till he came to her mother’s yetts,
An I wat he rapped rudely at.

17
‘Where is the lady o this ha?’
‘She’s out wie her maidens, playing at the ba.’

18
‘O na! fy na!
For I met her fifteen miles awa.

19
‘She’s over moss, an she’s over muir,
An a’ to be the Earl o Bran’s whore.’

20
Some rode wie sticks, an some wie rungs,
An a’ to get the Earl o Bran slain.

21
That lady lookd over her left shoudder-bane:
‘O guid Earl o Bran, we’ll a’ be taen!
For yond’r a’ my father’s men.

22
‘But if ye’ll take my claiths, I’ll take thine,
An I’ll fight a’ my father’s men.’

23
‘It’s no the custom in our land
For ladies to fight an knights to stand.

24
‘If they come on me ane by ane,
I’ll smash them a’ doun bane by bane.

25
‘If they come on me ane and a’,
Ye soon will see my body fa.’

26
He has luppen from his steed,
An he has gein her that to had.

27
An bad her never change her cheer
Untill she saw his body bleed.

28
They came on him ane by ane,
An he smashed them doun a’ bane by bane.

29
He sat him doun on the green grass,
For I wat a wearit man he was.

30
But ald Carl Hood came him behind,
An I wat he gae him a deadly wound.

31
He’s awa to his lady then,
He kissed her, an set her on her steed again.

32
He rode whistlin out the way,
An a’ to hearten his lady gay.

33
‘Till he came to the water-flood:
‘O guid Earl o Bran, I see blood!’

34
‘O it is but my scarlet hood,
That shines upon the water-flood.’

35
They came on ‘till his mother’s yett,
An I wat he rappit poorly at.

36
His mother she’s come to the door:
‘O son, ye’ve gotten yere dead wie an Eng_lish_ wh_o_re!’

37
‘She was never a wh_o_re to me;
Sae let my brother her husband be.’

38
Sae ald Carl Hood was not the dead o ane,
But he was the dead o hale seeventeen.

_Note at the end_: I have not written the chorus, but Mr Leyden,
having it by him, knows how to insert it.

“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 22 d. In
the handwriting of William Laidlaw. Scott has written at the
head, Earl Bran, another copy.

1
Earl Bran’s a wooing gane;
Ae lalie, O lilly lalie
He woo’d a lady, an was bringing her hame.
O the gae knights o Airly

2
. . . . . . . .
They met neither wi rich nor poor.

3
Till they met wi an auld palmer Hood,
Was ay for ill, an never for good.

4
‘O yonder is an auld palmer Heed:
Tak your sword an kill him dead.’

5
‘Gude forbid, O ladie fair,
That I kill an auld man an grey hair.

6
‘We’ll gie him a an forbid him to tell;’
The gae him a an forbad him to tell.

7
The auld man than he’s away hame,
He telld o Jane whan he gaed hame.

8
‘I thought I saw her on yon moss,
Riding on a milk-white horse.

9
‘I thought I saw her on yon muir;
By this time she’s Earl Bran’s wh_ore_.’

10
Her father he’s ca’d on his men:
‘Gae follow, an fetch her again.’

11
She’s lookit oer her left shoulder:
‘O yonder is my father’s men!

12
‘O yonder is my father’s men:
Take my cleadin, an I’ll take thine.’

13
‘O that was never law in land,
For a ladie to feiht an a knight to stand.

14
‘But if yer father’s men come ane an ane,
Stand ye by, an ye’ll see them slain.

15
‘If they come twae an twae,
Stand ye by, an ye’ll see them gae.

16
‘And if they come three an three,
Stand ye by, an ye’ll see them die.’

17
Her father’s men came ane an ane,
She stood by . . . .

18
Than they cam by twae an twae,
. . . . . . .

19
Than they cam by three an three,
. . . . . . .

20
But ahint him cam the auld palmer Hood,
An ran him outthro the heart’s blood.

21
‘I think I see your heart’s blood:’
‘It’s but the glistering o your scarlet hood.’

* * * * * *

* * * * *

7^1. _MS._, he’s *, _and, in the margin_, * away has been gane.
_Over_ away hame _is written_ thre them (==thrae, frae, them),
_or, perhaps_, thre than.

20^1. _MS_., palmer weed: _cf._ 3^1, 4^1.

20^2. outr thro.

P. 100, #B#; 489 b, 492, #I#. The printed copy used by Scott was ‘Lord Douglas’ Tragedy,’ the first of four pieces in a stall-pamphlet, “licensed and entered, 1792:” “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 1. #I# is another edition of the same. The variations from #I# are as follows:

* * * * *

1^1, says.

2^2. your arms.

3^4. father who.

4^3. seven _wanting_.

4^4. just now.

5^1. better _for_ (_the obvious misprint_) bitter.

5^3. once that.

6^1. Hold your hand.

7^2. wounds.

7^4. forkd in the.

8^1. Lady Margret.

9^3, 13^3. blue gilded, _as in_ #I#, _for_ bugelet: hanging down.

9^4, 13^4. slowly they both.

10^3. yon clear river-side.

11^3. his pretty.

12^3. ’Tis nothing.

15^2. soft.

16^2. long ere day.

16^4. died _wanting_.

17^1. St _for_ Lady.

17^3. sprung.

18^2. be near.

18^3. ye: weil.

8. Erlinton.

P. 107. The two copies from which (with some editorial garnish and filling out) #A# was compounded were: #a#. “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 20, obtained from Nelly Laidlaw, and in the handwriting of William Laidlaw; #b#. ‘Earlington’s Daughter,’ the same collection, No 11, in the handwriting of James Hogg. The differences are purely verbal, and both copies may probably have been derived from the same reciter; still, since only seven or eight verses in sixty-eight agree, both will be given entire, instead of a list of the variations.

#a.#
1
Lord Erlinton had ae daughter,
I trow he’s weird her a grit sin;
For he has bugn a bigly bower,
An a’ to pit his ae daughter in.
An he has buggin, etc.

2
An he has warn her sisters six,
Her sisters six an her brethren se’en,
Thei’r either to watch her a’ the night,
Or than to gang i the mornin soon.

3
She had na been i that bigly bower
Not ae night but only ane
Untill that Willie, her true-love,
Chappit at the bower-door, no at the gin.

4
‘Whae’s this, whae’s this chaps at my bower-door,
At my bower-door, no at the gin?’
‘O it is Willie, thy ain true-love;
O will ye rise an let me in?’

5
‘In my bower, Willie, there is a wane,
An in the wane there is a wake;
But I will come to the green woods
The morn, for my ain true-love’s sake.’

6
This lady she’s lain down again,
An she has lain till the cock crew thrice;
She said unto her sisters baith,
Lasses, it’s time at we soud rise.

7
She’s putten on her breast a silver tee,
An on her back a silken gown;
She’s taen a sister in ilka hand,
An away to the bonnie green wood she’s gane.

8
They hadna gane a mile in that bonnie green wood,
They had na gane a mile but only ane,
Till they met wi Willie, her ain true-love,
An thrae her sisters he has her taen.

9
He’s taen her sisters ilk by the hand,
He’s kissd them baith, an he’s sent them hame;
He’s muntit his ladie him high behind,
An thro the bonnie green wood thei’r gane.

10
They’d ridden a mile i that bonnie green wood,
They hadna ridden but only ane,
When there cam fifteen o the baldest knights
That ever boor flesh, bluid an bane.

11
Than up bespak the foremost knight,
He woor the gray hair on his chin;
‘Yield me yer life or your lady fair,
An ye sal walk the green woods within.’

12
‘For to gie my wife to thee,
I wad be very laith,’ said he;
‘For than the folk wad think I was gane mad,
Or that the senses war taen frae me.’

13
Up than bespak the niest foremost knight,
I trow he spak right boustrouslie;
‘Yield me yer life or your ladie fair,
An ye sall walk the green woods wi me.’

14
‘My wife, she is my warld’s meed,
My life, it lyes me very near;
But if ye be man o your manhood
I serve will while my days are near.’

15
He’s luppen off his milk-white steed,
He’s gien his lady him by the head:
‘See that ye never change yer cheer
Till ance ye see my body bleed.’

16
An he’s killd a’ the fifteen knights,
He’s killed them a’ but only ane;
A’ but the auld grey-headed knight,
He bade him carry the tiddins hame.

17
He’s gane to his lady again,
I trow he’s kissd her, baith cheek an chin;
‘Now ye’r my ain, I have ye win,
An we will walk the green woods within.’

* * * * *

2^3. Their _struck out_.

9^3. muntit _struck out, and_ set _written above_.

12^3. than _struck out_.

14^4. while, are, _struck out, and_ till, be, _written above_.

16^4. tiddins: _one_ d _struck out_. _These changes would seem to
be somebody’s editorial improvements._

Wi me _in_ 13^4 _sacrifices sense to rhyme_. _We are to understand
in_ 11^{3,4}, 13^{3,4} _that Willie is to die if he will not
give up the lady, but if he will resign her he may live, and
walk the wood at his pleasure._ 14^4 _is corrupt in both texts_.

#b.#
1
O Earlington, he has ae daughter,
And I wot he has ward her in a great sin;
He has buggin to her a bigly bowr,
And a’ to put his daughter in.

2
O he has warnd her sisters six,
Her sisters six and her brethren seven,
Either to watch her a’ the night,
Or else to search her soon at morn.

3
They had na been a night in that bigly bowr,
’Tis not a night but barely ane,
Till there was Willie, her ain true-love,
Rappd at the door, and knew not the gin.

4
‘Whoe’s this, whoe’s this raps at my bowr-door,
Raps at my bowr-door, and knows not the gin?’
‘O it is Willie, thy ain true-love;
I pray thee rise and let me in.’

5
‘O in my bower, Willie, there is a wake,
And in the wake there is a wan;
But I’ll come to the green wood the morn,
To the green wood for thy name’s sake.’

6
O she has gaen to her bed again,
And a wait she has lain till the cock crew thrice;
Then she said to her sisters baith,
Lasses, ’tis time for us to rise.

7
She’s puten on her back a silken gown,
And on her breast a silver tie;
She’s taen a sister in ilka hand,
And thro the green wood they are gane.

8
They had na walkt a mile in that good green wood,
’Tis not a mile but barely ane,
Till there was Willie, her ain true-love,
And from her sisters he has her taen.

9
He’s taen her sisters by the hand,
He kist them baith, he sent them hame;
He’s taen his lady him behind,
And thro the green wood they are gane.

10
They had na ridden a mile in the good green wood,
’Tis not a mile but barely ane,
Till there was fifteen of the boldest knights
That ever bore flesh, blood or bane.

11
The foremost of them was an aged knight,
He wore the gray hair on his chin:
‘Yield me thy life or thy lady bright,
And thou shalt walk these woods within.’

12
‘’Tis for to give my lady fair
To such an aged knight as thee,
People wad think I were gane mad,
Or else the senses taen frae me.’