Chapter XXXIII: Appendix (9)

9
‘When I was in my ain countrie,
I drank the wine sae red;
But now I canna get a bite o bare bread;
O I wis that I were dead!’

* * * * * *

10
‘Gae bring to me the good leaven [bread],
To eat when I do need;
Gae bring to me the good red wine,
To drink when I do dread.’

11
‘Gae ask my father for his leave
To bring them unto me,
And for the keys o the prison-door,
To set Earl Bichet free.’

* * * * * *

12
Then she went into her ain chamber
And prayd most heartilie,
And when that she rose up again
The keys fell at her knee.

* * * * * *

13
Then they hae made a solemn vow
Between themselves alone,
That he was to marry no other woman,
And she no other man.

14
And Earl Bichet’s to sail to fair Scotland,
Far oer the roaring faem,
And till seven years were past and gone
This vow was to remain.

15
Then she built him a stately ship,
And set it on the sea,
Wi four-and-twenty mariners,
To bear him companie.

16
‘My blessing gae wi ye, Earl Bichet,
My blessing gae wi thee;
My blessing be wi a’ the mariners
That are to sail wi thee.’

17
Then they saild east, and they saild wast,
Till they saild to Earl Bichet’s yett,
When nane was sae ready as his mother dear
To welcome her ain son back.

18
‘Ye’re welcome, welcome, Earl Bichet,
Ye’re dearly welcome hame to me!
And ye’re as welcome to Lady Jean,
For she has lang looked for thee.’

19
‘What haste, what haste, O mother dear,
To wale a wife for me?
For what will I do wi the bonny bride
That I hae left ayont the sea?’

20
When seven years were past and gone,
Seven years but and a day,
The Saracen lady took a crying in her sleep,
And she has cried sair till day.

21
‘O daughter, is it for a man o might?
Or is it for a man o mine?’
‘It’s neither for a man o might,
Nor is it for a man o thine.

22
‘Bat if ye’ll build me a ship, father,
And set it on the sea,
I will away to some other land,
To seek a true-love free.’

23
Then he built her a gallant ship,
And set it on the sea,
Wi a hunder and fifty mariners,
To bear her companie.

24
At every corner o the ship
A siller bell did hing,
And at ilka jawing o the faem
The siller bells did ring.

25
Then they saild east, and they saild wast,
Till they cam to Earl Bichet’s yett;
Nane was sae ready as the porter
To open and let her in thereat.

26
‘O is this Earl Bichet’s castle-yett?
Or is that noble knight within?
For I am weary, sad and wet,
And far I’ve come ayont the faem.’

27
‘He’s up the stair at supper set,
And mony a noble knight wi him;
He’s up the stair wi his bonny bride,
And mony a lady gay wi them.’

28
She’s put her hand into her purse
And taen out fifty merks and three:
‘If this be the Earl Bichet’s castle,
Tell him to speak three words wi me.

29
‘Tell him to send me a bit o his bread
But an a bottle o his wine,
And no forget the lady’s love
That freed him out o prison strong.’

30
The porter he gaed up the stair,
And mony bow and binge gae he;
‘What means, what means,’ cried Earl Bichet,
‘O what means a’ this courtesie?’

31
‘O I hae been porter at yere yett
These four-and-twenty years and three;
But the fairest lady now stands thereat
That ever my two eyes did see.

32
‘She has a ring on her foremost finger,
And on her middle-finger three;
She has as much gowd about her waist
As wad buy earldoms o land for thee.

33
‘She wants to speak three words wi thee,
And a little o yere bread and wine,
And not to forget the lady’s love
That freed ye out o prison strong.’

34
‘I’ll lay my life,’ cried Earl Bichet,
‘It’s my true love come oer the sea!’
Then up and spake the bride’s mother,
‘It’s a bonny time to speak wi thee!’

35
‘O your doughter came here on a horse’s back,
But I’ll set her hame in a chariot free;
For, except a kiss o her bonny mouth,
Of her fair body I am free.’

36
There war thirty cups on the table set,
He gard them a’ in flinders flee;
There war thirty steps into the stair,
And he has louped them a’ but three.

37
Then he took her saftly in his arms,
And kissed her right tenderlie:
‘Ye’re welcome here, my ain true love,
Sae dearly welcome ye’re to me!’

* * * * * *

* * * * *

7^3. doolfu: l _struck out_.

_At the end_: “Some verses are wanting at the conclusion.”

The following stanza, entered by Scott in the quarto volume “Scottish Songs,” 1795, fol. 29 back, Abbotsford library, N. 3, is much too good to be lost:

Young Bechin was in Scotland born,
He longed far countries for to see,
And he bound himself to a savage Moor,
Who used him but indifferently.

VOL. II.

55. The Carnal and the Crane.

P. 7, 509 b, III, 507 b. The Sower. Add: Legeay, Noëls Anciens, Première Série, 1875, ‘Saint Joseph avec Marie,’ No 34, p. 68; Daymard, Vieux Chants p. rec. en Quercy, ‘La Fuite en Egypte,’ p. 333; Soleville, Ch. p. du Bas-Quercy, ‘Lou Bouiaje,’ p. 126; La Tradition, IV, 139.

56. Dives and Lazarus.

P. 10, III, 507 b. ‘Le mauvais riche,’ Daymard, Vieux Chants p. rec. en Quercy, p. 282.

57. Brown Robyn’s Confession.

P. 13. #Swedish.# ‘Herr Päders Sjöresa,’ Lagus, Nyländska Folkvisor, I, 56, No 14, _a_, _b_.

#Danish.# ‘Jon Rimaardsens Sejlads,’ Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 296, No 73, #A-D#.

13 ff., II, 510, also No 20, I, 244. While Prince Lundarasena is on a voyage, a great hurricane arises. An offering of jewels is made to the sea, but does not quiet it. Lundarasena says: “It is through my demerits in former births that this day of doom has suddenly come upon you.” He flings himself into the water; the wind falls immediately and the sea becomes calm. (He is not drowned.) Kathá Sarit Ságara, Tawney’s translation, II, 375.

A ship stopped. Cf. the story told by Henry of Huntingdon, viii, 22, of one Reiner, a follower of Geoffrey Mandeville (Gaufridus de Magna Villa).

“Princeps autem peditum suorum, Reinerus nomine, cujus officium fuerat ecclesias frangere vel incendere, dum mare cum uxore sua transiret, ut multi perhibuerunt, navis immobilis facta est. Quod monstrum nautis stupentibus, sorte data rei causam inquirentibus, sors cecidit super Reinerum. Quod cum ille nimirum totis contradiceret nisibus, secundo et tertio sors jacta in eum devenit. Positus igitur in scapha est, et uxor ejus, et pecunia scelestissime adquisita, et statim navis cursu velocissimo ut prius fecerat pelagus sulcat, scapha vero cum nequissimis subita voragine circumducta in æternum absorpta est.” This was in the year 1144. Henrici Archidiaconi Huntendunensis Historia Anglorum, ed. Arnold, Rolls Series, 1879, p. 278. (G. L. K.)

“Audivi a fratre Galtero de Leus quod, cum quedam mulier, mare transiens, pulcritudine sua omnes qui erant in navi ita attraxisset ut omnes qui erant ibi fere cum ea peccassent vel per actum aut consensum, et non evitaret patrem aut filium, sed indifferenter omnibus, licet occulte, se exponeret, facta in mari tempestate et navi periclitante, cepit clamare coram omnibus omnia peccata sua et confiteri ea, credens quod alii propter ea deberent periclitari. Tunc, aliis confitentibus, cessavit mare a furore suo. Facta tranquillitate, nullus potuit scire que esset illa mulier aut cognoscere eam.” Anecdotes historiques, Légendes et Apologues tirés du Recueil inédit d’Étienne de Bourbon, ed. Lecoy de la Marche, 1877, p. 160. (G. L. K.)

A merchant is making a voyage to Mount Athos with a cargo of wax and incense. St Nicolas freezes the ship in, and will not thaw it out until the master makes a vow to present the cargo to the monastery there. #Bulgarian#, Miladinof, p. 56, No 50. A ship in which Milica is captive is stopped by her tears and plaints until she and her brother are released. #Servian#, Karadžić, I, 556, No 729. (W. W.)

16. ‘Captain Glen.’ Christie’s Traditional Ballad Airs, I, 241, from recitation. As Christie remarks, some verses of the ballad are introduced into Scott’s Pirate, ch. 36.

59. Sir Aldingar.

P. 33 f. The child champion in #A#. (Compare also the notes to No 90, II, 513 b, III, 515 b.) Children who distinguish themselves by valorous exploits, and even get the better of heroes, are especially common in Bulgarian epos. A child of three days kills a monster that stops the way of a marriage-train, and then requires the guests to come to its baptism: Miladinof, p. 79, No 59. Marko Kraljević is vanquished by one of these, seven years old: Miladinof, p. 173, No 121; Kačanofskij, pp. 341–55, Nos 151–55. In Kačanofskij, p. 355, No 156, the child is but seven months old. More of this extravagance in Miladinof, p. 266, No 173; Sbornik of the Ministry of Instruction, I, 59, No 4. (W. W.)

35, note. In The Order of Combats for Life in Scotland, Spalding Club Misc., II, 387 (of uncertain date), the second oath to be proposed to the parties is, that they have not brought into the lists other armor or weapons than was allowed, neither any engine, charm, herb, or enchantment, etc.

60. King Estmere.

P. 50 b, the last paragraph. It might have been remarked that ‘King Estmere’ resembles in a general way a series of German poems of adventure, in which a young king (or his guardians) is nice about a wife, and the princess proposed to him is won only with great difficulty: König Rother (ed. Rückert, v. 13 ff.); Ortnit (Ortnit und die Wolfdietriche, ed. Amelung und Jänicke, I, 4, st. 8 ff.); Hugdietrich (the same, p. 168, st. 9 ff.); Oswald (Sant Oswaldes Leben, ed. Ettmüller, p. 6, v. 140 ff); Orendel (ed. Berger, p. 8, v. 192 ff.); Dietwart (Dietrichs Flucht, ed. Martin, Heldenbuch, II^r Teil, p. 68, v. 785 ff.). To which may be added Fore, in Salman und Marolf (ed. Vogt, p. 5, str. 24 ff.), and Tsar Vasily, in Russian _byliny_ (see Vogt, p. XLII).

61. Sir Cawline.

P. 60, III, 508 b. Cucúlin pulls liver and lights out of the throats of two lions: Curtin, Myths and Folk-Lore of Ireland, p. 317.

62. Fair Annie.

P. 65 a. #Swedish.# ‘Skön Anna,’ ‘Skön Anna och Herr Peder,’ Lagus, Nyländska Folkvisor, I, 13, No 4, _a, b_. The bride throws down one half of a gold ring, Fair Annie the other; the parts run together: _a_ 23, _b_ 16.

67. The romance of Galerent follows the story of Marie’s _lai_, and is thought to be founded on it: Le Roman de Galerent, Comte de Bretagne, par le trouvère Renaut, A. Boucherie, 1888. (G. L. K.)

68, note. The story is in Coryat’s Crudities, 1611, p. 646 f.; III, 81 f., of the ed. of 1776. (G. L. K.)

63. Child Waters.

P. 84 b, III, 508 b. Add: Skattegraveren, 1888, II, 135, Nos 408–11.

64. Fair Janet.

P. 101 b. #Danish.# ‘Kong Valdemar og hans Søster,’ Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 75, 378, No 23.

102 b. #Breton# ballad. After Luzel, II, 6–15, add 558, the page of the third ballad.

Quellien, Chansons et Danses des Bretons, p. 73, is a fourth version. This ballad, says Quellien, is widely spread, and has various titles, one of which is ‘Le Comte de Poitou.’

103 ff. “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” Abbotsford, No 25. In the handwriting of William Laidlaw; “from Jean Scott.”

1
Young Janet sits in her garden,
Makin a heavie maen,
Whan by cam her father dear,
Walkin himself alane.

2
‘It’s telld me in my bower, Janet,
It’s telld me in my bed,
That ye’re in love wi Sweet Willie;
But a French lord ye maun wed.’

3
‘In it be telld ye in yer bower, father,
In it be telld ye in your bed,
That me an Willie bears a love,
Yet a French lord I maun wed,
But here I mak a leel, leel vow
He’s neer come in my bed.

4
‘An for to please my father dear
A French lord I will wed;
But I hae sworn a solemn oth
He’s neer come in my bed.’

5
Y_oung_ Janet’s away to her bower-door,
As fast as she can hie,
An Willie he has followd her,
He’s followd speedilie.

6
An whan he cam to her bowr-door
He tirlt at the pin:
‘O open, open, Janet love,
Open an let me in.’

7
‘It was never my mother’s custm, Willie,
It never sal be mine,
For a man to come the bower within
When a woman’s travelin.

8
‘Gae yer ways to my sisters’ bower,
Crie, Meg, Marion an Jean,
Ye maun come to yer sister Janet,
For fear that she be gane.’

9
Sae he gaed to her sisters’ bower,
Cry’d, Meg, Marion an Jean,
Ye maun come to yer sister Janet,
For fear that she be gane.

10
Some drew to their silk stokins,
An some drew to their shoon,
An some drew to their silk cleadin,
For fear she had been gane.

11
When they cam to her bower-door
They tirlt at the pin;
For as sick a woman as she was,
She raise an loot them in.

12
They had na the babie weel buskit,
Nor her laid in her bed,
Untill her cruel father cam,
Cried, Fye, gar busk the bride!

13
‘There a sair pain in my back, father,
There a sair pain in my head,
An sair, sair is my sidies to;
This day I downa ride.’

14
‘But I hae sorn a solemn oath,
Afore a companie,
That ye sal ride this day, Janet,
This day an ye soud die.

15
‘Whae’ll horse ye to the kirk, Janet?
An whae will horse ye best?’
‘Whae but Willie, my true-love?
He kens my mister best.’

16
‘Whae’ll horse ye to the kirk, Janet?
An whae will horse ye there?’
‘Whae but Willie, my true-love?
He neer will doo ‘d nae maer.

17
‘Ye may saddle a steed, Willie,
An see that ye saddle ‘t soft;
Ye may saddle a steed, Willie,
For ye winna saddle ‘t oft.

18
‘Ye may saddle a steed, Willie,
An see that ye saddle ‘t side;
Ye may saddle a steed, Willie;
But I thought to have been yer bride.’

19
When they war a’ on horse-back set,
On horse-back set sae hie,
Then up spak the bold bridegroom,
An he spak boustresslie.

20
Up then spak the bold bridegroom,
An he spak loud an thrawn;
‘I think the bride she be wi bairn,
She looks sae pale an wan.’

21
Then she took out her bible-book,
Swoor by her fingers five
That she was neither wi lad nor lass
To no man was alive.

22
Then she took out her bible-book,
Swoor by her fingers ten
An ever she had born a bairn in her days
She had born ‘d sin yestreen:
Then a’ the ladies round about
Said, That’s a loud leesin.

23
Atween the kitchin an the kirk
It was a weel-met mile;
It was a stra’d i the red roses,
But than the camomile.

24
When the war a’ at dener set,
Drinkin at the wine,
Janet could neither eat nor drink
But the water that ran so fine.

25
Up spak the bride’s father,
Said, Bride, will ye dance wi me?
‘Away, away, my cruel father!
There nae dancin wi me.’

26
Up then spak the bride’s mother,
Said, Bride, will ye dance wi me?
‘Away, away, my mother dear!
There nae dancin wi me.’

27
Up then spak the bride’s sisters, etc.

28
Up then spak the bride’s brother, etc.

29
Then up spak the bold bridegroom, [etc.]

30
Up then spak the Sweet Willie,
An he spak wi a vance;
‘An ye’ll draw of my boots, Janet,
I’ll gie a’ yer lassies a dance.’

31
‘I seen ‘t other ways, Willie,
An sae has mae than me,
When ye wad hae danced wi my fair body,
An leten a’ my maidens be.’

32
He took her by the milk-white hand,
An led her wi mickle care,
But she drapit down just at his feet,
And word spak little mair.

33
‘Ye may gae hire a nurse, Willie,
An take yer young son hame;
Ye may gae hire a nurse, Willie,
For bairn’s nurse I’ll be nane.’

34
She’s pu’d out the keys o her coffer,
Hung leugh down by her gair;
She said, Gie thae to my young son,
Thrae me he’ll neer get mair.’

35
Up then spak the bold bridegroom,
An he spak bousterouslie;
‘I’ve gien you the skaeth, Willie,
But ye’ve gien me the scorn;
Sae there’s no a bell i St Mary’s kirk
Sall ring for her the morn.’

36
‘Ye’ve gien me the skaeth, bridegroom,
But I’ll gee you the scorn;
For there’s no a bell i St Marie’s kirk
But sal ring for her the morn.

37
‘Gar deal, gar deal at my love’s burial
The wheat-bread an the wine,
For or the morn at ten o clock
Ye’ll deal ‘d as fast at mine.’

38
Then he’s drawn out a nut-brown sword,
Hang leugh down by his gair,
He’s thrust it in just at his heart,
An word spak never mair.

39
The taen was buried i St Mary’s kirk,
The tother i St Mary’s queer,
An throw the taen there sprang a birk,
Throw the tother a bonnie brier.

40
Thae twae met, an thae twae plaet,
An ay they knitit near,
An ilka ane that cam thereby
Said, There lies twa lovers dear.

41
Till by there came an ill French lord,
An ill death may he die!
For he pu’d up the bonnie brier,
. . . . . . . .

5^1. Away _struck out, and_ on _written over._

9^1. An _at the beginning struck out._

10^{1,2,3}. drew to them their? Cf. #A# 10.

11^4. _The fourth verse is written as the second_ (it _for_ in),
_but struck out_.

12^1. bukit.

13^3. _Changed, by striking out, to_ An sair, sair my side. An
sair, sair is my side _should probably be the second line._

_Cf._ #A# 17, #C# 12.

15^2. An whae I will.

16^4. He’ll neer will.

18^4. But _struck out._

23^4. But an?

30^1. he Sweet Willie?

34^2. Hang? Cf. 38^2.

39^2. _MS._ queer Choir.

40^4. twa _struck out._

65. Lady Maisry.

P. 112 b. #I.# “Mrs Baird says that this ballad was printed in the Saltmarket [Glasgow] by the Robertsons about seventy years ago.” Note by Motherwell in a copy of his Minstrelsy.

113, note §. ‘Galancina’ also in Munthe, Folkpoesi från Asturien, No 3, Upsala Universitets Årsskrift, 1887.

* * * * *

J

‘Lady Margery,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 71, MS. of Thomas Wilkie, p. 71, Abbotsford. “From the recitation of Janet Scott, Bowden, who sung a dysmal air, as she called it, to the words.”

This version resembles #D#. 12, 13, may be caught from ‘Lord Derwentwater:’ see No 208, #E# 8, 9, #F# 9, 10. Omens are not in place after the positive information given in 11.

1
Lady Margery was the king’s ae daughter,
But an the prince’s heir; O
She’s away to Strawberry Castle,
To learn some English lair. O

2
She had not been in Strawberry Castle
A twelvemonth and a day
Till she’s even as big wi child
As ever a lady could gae.

3
Her father’s to the cutting o the birks,
Her mother to the broom,
And a’ for to get a bundle o sticks
To burn that fair lady in.

4
‘O hold your hand now, father dear,
O hold a little while,
For if my true-love be yet alive
I’ll hear his bridle ring.

5
‘Where will I get a bonny boy,
That will win hoes and shoon,
That will run to Strawberry Castle
And tell my love to come?’

6
She’s called on her waiting-maid
To bring out bread and wine:
‘Now eat and drink, my bonny boy,
Ye’ll neer eat mair o mine.’

7
Away that bonny boy he’s gaen,
As fast as he could rin;
When he cam where grass grew green
Set down his feet and ran.

8
And when he cam where brigs were broken
He bent his bow and swam;
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .

9
When he came to Strawberry Castle,
He lighted on the green;
Who was so ready as the noble lord
To rise and let the boy in!

10
‘What news? what news, my pretty page?
What tydings do ye bring?
Is my lady lighter yet
Of a daughter or a son?’

11
‘Bad news, bad news, my noble lord,
Bad tydings have I brung;
The fairest lady in a’ Scotland
This day for you does burn.’

12
He has mounted a stately steed
And he was bound to ride;
The silver buttons flew off his coat
And his nose began to bleed.

13
The second steed that lord mounted
Stumbled at a stone;
‘Alass! alass!’ he cried with grief,
‘My lady will be gone.’

14
When he came from Strawberry Castle
He lighted boots and a’;
He thought to have goten a kiss from her,
But her body fell in twa.

15
For the sake o Lady Margery
He’s cursed her father and mother,
For the sake o Lady Margery
He’s cursed her sister and brother.

16
And for the sake o Lady Margery
He’s cursed all her kin;
He cried, Scotland is the ae warst place
That ever my fit was in!

O, _added in singing to the second and fourth lines of each
stanza, is sometimes not written in the MS._

9 _is written as the third and fourth lines of_ 8.

15 _and_ 16 _are written as one stanza of four long lines_.

* * * * *

K

“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 22 f; in the
handwriting of William Laidlaw. “From Jean Scott.” This version
resembles #E#.

1
Marjorie was her father’s dear,
Her mother’s only heir,
An she’s away to Strawberry Castle,
To learn some unco lear.

2
She had na been i Strawberry Castle
A year but barely three
Till Marjorie turnd big wi child,
As big as big could be.

* * * * * *

3
‘Will ye hae that old, old man
To be yer daily mate,
Or will ye burn in fire strong
For your true lover’s sake?’

4
‘I winna marry that old, old man
To be my daily mate;
I’ll rather burn i fire strong
For my true lover’s sake.

* * * * * *

5
‘O where will I get a bonnie boy
That will win hose an shoon
An will gae rin to Strawberry Castle,
To gar my good lord come soon?’

6
‘Here am I, a bonnie boy
That will win hose an shoon,
An I’ll gae rin to Strawberry Castle,
And gar your lord come soon.’

7
‘Should ye come to a brocken brig,
Than bend your bow an swim;
An whan ye com to garse growin
Set down yer feet an rin.’

8
When eer he came to brigs broken,
He bent his bow an swam,
And whan he cam to grass growin
He set down his feet an ran.

7
When eer he cam to Strawberry Castle
He tirlt at the pin;
There was nane sae ready as that young lord
To open an let him in.

8
‘Is there ony o my brigs broken?
Or ony o my castles win?
Or is my lady brought to bed
Of a daughter or a son?’

9
‘There’s nane o a’ yer brigs broken,
Ther’s nane of your castles win;
But the fairest lady in a’ your land
This day for you will burn.’

10
‘Gar saddle me the black, black horse,
Gar saddle me the brown,
Gar saddle me the swiftest stead
That eer carried man to town.’

11
He’s burstit the black unto the slack,
The grey unto the brae,
An ay the page that ran afore
Cried, Ride, sir, an ye may.

12
Her father kindlet the bale-fire,
Her brother set the stake,
Her mother sat an saw her burn,
An never cried Alack!

13
‘Beet on, beet [on], my cruel father,
For you I cound nae friend;
But for fifteen well mete mile
I’ll hear my love’s bridle ring.’

14
When he cam to the bonnie Dundee,
He lightit wi a glent;
Wi jet-black boots an glittrin spurs
Through that bale-fire he went.

15
He thought his love wad hae datit him,
But she was dead an gane;
He was na sae wae for that lady
As he was for her yong son.

16
‘But I’ll gar burn for you, Marjorie,
Yer father an yer mother,
An I’ll gar burn for you, Marjorie,
Your sister an your brother.

17
‘An I will burn for you, Marjorie,
The town that ye’r brunt in,
An monie ane’s be fatherless
That has but little sin.’

4^3. But _at the beginning struck out._

10. grey _is written over brown in the second line (perhaps
because of_ grey _in 11^2), and_ to town _is struck out in the
fourth line, but nothing supplied._

67. Glasgerion.

P. 136. “Glen Kindy, or rather Glen Skeeny, I have heard, and there is a ballad in Percy’s collection that is very much the same.” Mrs Brown, in a letter to Jamieson, June 18, 1801, Jamieson-Brown MS., Appendix, p. x.

137 a, second paragraph. ‘Riddaren och torpar-drängen,’ Lagus, Nyländska Folkvisor, I, 133, No 43.

68. Young Hunting.

P. 142 b. The four additional stanzas in #J# first appeared in the second edition of the Minstrelsy, 1803, II, 44.

143 b, 512 a, III, 509 a. Discovery of drowned bodies. Add: La Tradition, IV, 236.

143 b, second paragraph. Many cases in Pitcairn’s Criminal Trials, III, 182–99.

69. Clerk Saunders.

P. 157 f. Scandinavian ballads. See Danmarks gamle Folkeviser, now edited by Axel Olrik, V, II, 210, No 304, ‘De hurtige Svar.’ There are two Färöe versions, #A a#, #A b#, #B#, now No 124 of the MS. Føroyjakvæði. Hammershaimb’s ballad is a compound of #A a#, #B#. There is a Norwegian copy, which I failed to note, in Danske Viser, IV, 363 f, and there are others in the hands of Professor Bugge. There are two Swedish unprinted copies in Arwidsson’s collection, and others are referred to by Afzelius. #Danish#, #A-D# : #A a# and #B c# are the copies referred to at p. 158, #C, D# were published in 1889, in Kristensen’s Jyske Folkeminder, X, 210 ff., No 51. For the Icelandic ballads see Olrik, No 294, p. 69 ff. A tendency to the comic is to be remarked in the Swedish and Danish group, in which (with one exception) a brother takes the place of the father.

158 a, III, 509 a. #Spanish#, add: ‘Mañanita, mañanita,’ El Folk-Lore Frexnense y Bético-Extremeño, Fregenal, 1883–84, p. 171.

158 ff. ‘Clerk Sandy,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 22 c; in the handwriting of Richard Heber.

1
Clerk Sandy an his true-love
Came oer the bent so brown,
There was never sic a word between them tua
Till the bells rang in the toun.

2
‘Ye maun take out your pocket-napkin
An put it on my een,
That safely I may say the morn
I saw na yow yestreen.

3
‘Take me on your back, lady,
An carry me to your bed,
That safely I may say the morn
Yere bouer’s floor I never tread.’

4
She’s taen him in her armeys tua,
An carried him to her bed,
That safely he may say the morn
Her bouer’s floor he never tread.

5
‘I have seven brethren,’ she says,
‘An bold young men they be;
If they see me an you thegether,
Yere butcher they will be.’

6
They had na sutten as lang, as lang
As other lovers when they meet,
Till Clerk Sandy an his true-love
They fell baith sound asleep.

7
In an came her seven brethren,
An bold young men they’ve been:
‘We have only ae sister in a’ the world,
An wi Clerk Sandy she’s lein.’

8
Out an spake her second brother:
‘I’m sure it’s nae injury;
If there was na another man in a’ the world.
His butcher I will be.’

9
He’s taen out a little pen-knife,
Hang low doun by his gaer,
An thro an thro Clerk Sandy’s middle;
A word spake he never mair.

10
They lay lang, an lang they lay,
Till the bird in its cage did sing;
She softly unto him did say,
I wonder ye sleep sae soun.

11
They lay lang, an lang they lay,
Till the sun shane on their feet;
She softly unto him did say,
Ye ly too sound asleep.

12
She softly turnd her round about,
An wondred he slept sae soun;
An she lookd ovr her left shoulder,
An the blood about them ran.

1^2. bents o Broun.

71. The Bent Sae Brown.

P. 170 a, III, 509 a, IV, 164 b. #Danish.# ‘Jomfruens Brødre,’ ‘Hr. Hjælm,’ Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 266, 269, No 65, #A, B#, No 66.

72. The Clerk’s Twa Sons o Owsenford.

P. 174, 512 a, III, 509 a. M. Gaston Paris has made it strongly probable that Pontoise, and not Toulouse, was originally the scene of the French-Catalan-Italian ballad. Three students had inadvertently trespassed on the hunting-grounds of Enguerrand de Couci; the baron had them arrested by his foresters and hanged from the battlements of his castle; for which St Louis made him pay a heavy fine, and with the money founded a hospital at Pontoise. Journal des Savants, Sept.-Nov., 1889, p. 614.

73. Lord Thomas and Fair Annet.

P. 180. Norse (1). ‘Peder och liten Stina,’ Lagus, Nyländska Folkvisor, I, 18, No 5. Stina hangs herself in the orchard. Peder runs on his spear.

181, III, 510 b. French ballads. ‘La Délaissée,’ Daymard, Vieux Chants p. rec. en Quercy, p. 50. ‘Le Rossignolet,’ Revue des Traditions pop., V, 144, 205.

* * * * *

I

P. 182 f. “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 22 h; in the handwriting of William Laidlaw. From Jean Scott.

1
Fair Annie an Sweet Willie
Sat a’ day on yon hill;
Whan day was gane an night was comd,
They hadna said their fill.

2
Willie spak but ae wrang word,
An Annie took it ill:
‘I’ll never marry a fair woman
Against my friends’s will.’

3
Annie spak but ae wrang word,
An Willy lookit down:
‘If I binna gude eneugh for yer wife,
I’m our-gude for yer loun.’

4
Willie’s turnd his horse’s head about,
He’s turnd it to the broom,
An he’s away to his father’s bower,
I the ae light o the moon.

5
Whan he cam to his father’s bower,
[He tirlt at the pin;
Nane was sae ready as his father
To rise an let him in.]

6
‘An askin, an askin, dear father,
An askin I’ll ask thee;’
‘Say on, say on, my son Willie,
Whatever your askin be.’

7
‘O sall I marry the nit-brown bride,
Has corn, caitle an kye,
Or sall I marry Fair Annie,
Has nought but fair beauty?’

8
‘Ye ma sit a gude sate, Willy,
Wi corn, caitle an kye;
But ye’ll but sit a silly sate
Wi nought but fair beauty.’

9
Up than spak his sister’s son,
Sat on the nurse’s knee,
Sun-bruist in his mother’s wame,
Sun-brunt on his nurse’s knee:

10
‘O yer hogs will die out i the field,
Yer kye ill die i the byre;
An than, whan a’ yer gear is gane,
A fusom fag by yer fire!
But a’ will thrive at is wi you
An ye get yer heart’s desire.’

11
Willie’s turnd his horse’s head about,
He’s away to his mother’s bour, etc.

12
‘O my hogs ill die out i the field,
My kye die i the byre,
An than, whan a’ my gear is gane,
A fusom fag bi my fire!
But a’ will thrive at is wi me
Gin I get my heart’s desire.’

13
Willie’s, etc.,
He’s awae to his brother’s bower, etc.

14
“ ” “ ” sister’s bower, etc.@

15
Than Willie has set his wadin-day
Within thirty days an three,
An he has sent to Fair Annie
His waddin to come an see.

16
The man that gade to Fair Annie
Sae weel his errant coud tell:
‘The morn it’s Willie’s wadin-day,
Ye maun be there yer sell.’

17
’Twas up an spak her aged father,
He spak wi muckle care;
‘An the morn be Willie’s wadin-day,
I wate she maun be there.

18
‘Gar take a steed to the smiddie,
Caw on o it four shoon;
Gar take her to a merchant’s shop,
Cut off for her a gown.’

19
She wadna ha’t o the red sae red,
Nor yet o the grey sae grey,
But she wad ha’t o the sky couler
That she woor ilka day.

* * * * * *

20
There war four-an-twontie gray goss-hawks
A flaffin their wings sae wide,
To flaff the stour thra off the road
That Fair Annie did ride.

21
The[re] war four-a-twontie milk-white dows
A fleein aboon her head,
An four-an-twontie milk-white swans
Her out the gate to lead.

22
Whan she cam to St Marie’s kirk,
She lightit on a stane;
The beauty o that fair creature
Shone oer mony ane.

23
’Twas than out cam the nit-brown bride,
She spak wi muckle spite;
‘O where gat ye the water, Annie,
That washes you sae white?’

24
‘I gat my beauty
Where ye was no to see;
I gat it i my father’s garden,
Aneath an apple tree.

25
‘Ye ma wash i dubs,’ she said,
‘An ye ma wash i syke,
But an ye wad wash till doomsday
Ye neer will be as white.

26
‘Ye ma wash i dubs,’ she said,
‘An ye ma wash i the sea,
But an ye soud wash till doomsday
Ye’ll neer be as white as me.

27
‘For I gat a’ this fair beauty
Where ye gat never none,
For I gat a’ this fair beauty
Or ever I was born.’

28
It was than out cam Willie,
Wi hats o silks and flowers;
He said, Keep ye thae, my Fair Annie,
An brook them weel for yours.’

29
‘Na, keep ye thae, Willie,’ she said,
‘Gie them to yer nit-brown bride;
Bid her wear them wi mukle care,
For woman has na born a son
Sal mak my heart as sair.’

30
Annie’s luppen on her steed
An she has ridden hame,
Than Annie’s luppen of her steed
An her bed she has taen.

31
When mass was sung, an bells war rung,
An a’ man bound to bed,
An Willie an his nit-brown bride
I their chamber war laid.

32
They war na weel laid in their bed,
Nor yet weel faen asleep,
Till up an startit Fair Annie,
Just up at Willie’s feet.

33
‘How like ye yer bed, Willie?
An how like ye yer sheets?
An how like ye yer nut-brown bride,
Lies in yer arms an sleeps?’

34
‘Weel eneugh I like my bed, Annie,
Weel eneugh I like my sheets;
But wae be to the nit-brown bride
Lies in my arms an sleeps!’

35
Willie’s ca’d on his merry men a’
To rise an pit on their shoon;
‘An we’ll awae to Annie’s bower,
Wi the ae light o the moon.’

36
An whan he cam to Annie’s bower,
He tirlt at the pin;
Nane was sae ready as her father
To rise an let him in.

37
There was her father a[n] her se’en brethren
A makin to her a bier,
Wi ae stamp o the melten goud,
Another o siller clear.

38
When he cam to the chamber-door
Where that the dead lay in,
There was her mother an six sisters
A makin to her a sheet,
Wi ae drap o . . . .
Another o silk sae white.

39
‘Stand by, stand by now, ladies a’,
Let me look on the dead;
The last time that I kiss[t] her lips
They war mair bonny red.’

40
‘Stand by, stand by now, Willie,’ they said,
‘An let ye her alane;
Gin ye had done as ye soud done,
She wad na there ha lien.’

41
‘Gar deal, gar deal at Annie’s burrial
The wheat bread an the wine,
For or the morn at ten o clock
Ye’s deal’d as fast at mine.’

5. Whan he cam to his father’s bower, etc. _Completed from 36._

7^2. caitle _written under_ cattle.

8^4. Annie _written over_ nought.

11. _4–8 are intended to be repeated, with mother substituted for_
father.

13, 14. 4–8, 12, _are intended to be repeated, with the proper
substitutions for_ brother, sister.

_After 19_: Something about her sadle and steed.

20^2, 37^2, 38^4. A’; _which may be intended_.

29. _Compare #E# 30: but I am unable to suggest a satisfactory
restoration of the stanza._

_After 41_: etc. See Sweet Willie an Janet. _What should follow is
probably_, Sweet Willie was buried, _etc._

There are six stanzas of ‘Lord Thomas and Fair Elenor,’ from Mrs Gammell’s recitation, in Pitcairn’s MSS, III, 35. They are of no value.

75. Lord Lovel.

P. 204 f., note †, 512 b. Add: Hruschka u. Toischer, Deutsche V. l. aus Böhmen, p. 108, No 20, #a-f#.

205 a, note, III, 510 b. For ‘Stolten Hellelille, see Danmarks gamle Folkeviser, V, II, 352, No 312, ‘Gøde og Hillelille.’ Add: ‘Greven og lille Lise,’ Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 319, No 79, #A-E#.

205 b, III, 510 b. ‘Den elskedes Død:’ the same volume of Kristensen, ‘Herr Peders Kjæreste,’ p. 327, No 80.

206, 512 b, III, 510 b. ‘Lou Fil del Rey et sa Mio morto,’ Daymard, Vieux Chants p. rec. en Quercy, p. 82.

There is a similar ballad, ending with admonition from the dead mistress, in Luzel, Soniou, I, 324, 25, ‘Cloaregic ar Stanc.’

76. The Lass of Roch Royal.

213 a. Title of #B#. Not Lochroyan in Herd, I, 144, but, both in title and text, Lochvoyan. In Herd, II, 60, the title has Lochroyan; the word does not occur in so much of the text as remains. Printed Lochroyan by Herd, and probably Lochroyan was intended in I, 144, as the alternative, though the last letter but one is indistinctly written, and may be read _e_. #B# came to Herd “by post from a lady in Ayrshire (?), name unknown.” Also, No 38, #A a#, No 51, #A a#; No 161, #B a#; No 220, #A#. Note (in pencil, and indistinct as to the place), Herd’s MSS, I, 143.

215 a. A part of this ballad is introduced into two versions of ‘The Mother’s Malison,’ No 216; see IV, 186. See also ‘Fair Janet,’ No 64, #A# 13, #D# 5, #G# 5.

217. #B.# Lochvoyan everywhere, not Lochroyan.

221. #E# 2^2. Finlay, in a letter to Scott, March 27, 1803 (Letters, I, No 87), says, “in a copy which I have seen, with the music, it is a birchen, instead of a silver, kame.”

‘The Lass of Lochroyan,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border
Minstrelsy,” No 82, Abbotsford. Communicated to Scott by Major Henry
Hutton, Royal Artillery, 24th December, 1802 (Letters I, No 77), as
recollected by his father and the family.

Some ten stanzas of this version (16–19, 25–27, 30, 32, 34) appear
to have been used by Scott in compiling the copy printed in his
Minstrelsy, #E b#. (The note on #E b#, p. 226, requires correction.)
There is much in common with #B#, #E a#, #F#.

1
‘O wha will shoe my bonny foot?
And wha will glove my hand?
And wha will bind my middle jimp
Wi a lang, lang linen band?

2
‘O wha will kame my yellow hair,
With a haw bayberry kame?
And wha will be my babe’s father
Till Gregory come hame?’

3
‘Thy father, he will shoe thy foot,
Thy brother will glove thy hand,
Thy mither will bind thy middle jimp
Wi a lang, lang linen band.

4
‘Thy sister will kame thy yellow hair,
Wi a haw bayberry kame;
The Almighty will be thy babe’s father
Till Gregory come hame.’

5
‘And wha will build a bonny ship,
And set it on the sea?
For I will go to seek my love,
My ain love Gregory.’

6
Up then spak her father dear,
A wafu man was he;
‘And I will build a bonny ship,
And set her on the sea.

7
‘And I will build a bonny ship,
And set her on the sea,
And ye sal gae and seek your love,
Your ain love Gregory.’

8
Then he’s gard build a bonny ship,
And set it on the sea,
Wi four-and-twenty mariners,
To bear her company.

9
O he’s gart build a bonny ship,
To sail on the salt sea;
The mast was o the beaten gold,
The sails [o] cramoisie.

10
The sides were o the gude stout aik,
The deck o mountain pine,
The anchor o the silver shene,
The ropes o silken twine.

11
She had na saild but twenty leagues,
But twenty leagues and three,
When she met wi a rank rever,
And a’ his companie.

12
‘Now are ye queen of heaven hie,
Come to pardon a’ our sin?
Or are ye Mary Magdalane,
Was born at Bethlam?’

13
‘I’m no the queen of heaven hie,
Come to pardon ye your sin,
Nor am I Mary Magdalane,
Was born in Bethlam.

14
‘But I’m the lass of Lochroyan,
That’s sailing on the sea
To see if I can find my love,
My ain love Gregory.’

15
‘O see na ye yon bonny bower?
It’s a’ covered oer wi tin;
When thou hast saild it round about,
Lord Gregory is within.’

16
And when she saw the stately tower,
Shining both clear and bright,
Whilk stood aboon the jawing wave,
Built on a rock of height,

17
Says, Row the boat, my mariners,
And bring me to the land,
For yonder I see my love’s castle,
Close by the salt sea strand.

18
She saild it round, and saild it round,
And loud and loud cried she
‘Now break, now break your fairy charms,
And set my true-love free.’

19
She’s taen her young son in her arms
And to the door she’s gane,
And long she knockd, and sair she ca’d,
But answer got she nane.

20
‘O open, open, Gregory!
O open! if ye be within;
For here’s the lass of Lochroyan,
Come far fra kith and kin.

21
‘O open the door, Lord Gregory!
O open and let me in!
The wind blows loud and cauld, Gregory,
The rain drops fra my chin.

22
‘The shoe is frozen to my foot,
The glove unto my hand,
The wet drops fra my yellow hair,
Na langer dow I stand.’

23
O up then spak his ill mither,
An ill death may she die!
‘Y’re no the lass of Lochroyan,
She’s far out-our the sea.

24
‘Awa, awa, ye ill woman,
Ye’re no come here for gude;
Ye’re but some witch or wil warlock,
Or mermaid o the flood.’

25
‘I am neither witch nor wil warlock,
Nor mermaid o the sea,
But I am Annie of Lochroyan,
O open the door to me!’

26
‘Gin ye be Annie of Lochroyan,
As I trow thou binna she,
Now tell me of some love-tokens
That past tween thee and me.’

27
‘O dinna ye mind, love Gregory,
As we sat at the wine,
We chang’d the rings frae our fingers?
And I can shew thee thine.

28
‘O yours was gude, and gude enough,
But ay the best was mine,
For yours was o the gude red gowd,
But mine o the diamond fine.

29
‘Yours was o the gude red gowd,
Mine o the diamond fine;
Mine was o the purest troth,
But thine was false within.’

30
‘If ye be the lass of Lochroyan,
As I kenna thou be,
Tell me some mair o the love-tokens
Past between thee and me.’

31
‘And dinna ye mind, love Gregory,
As we sat on the hill,
Thou twin’d me o my maidenheid,
Right sair against my will?

32
‘Now open the door, love Gregory!
Open the door! I pray;
For thy young son is in my arms,
And will be dead ere day.’

33
‘Ye lie, ye lie, ye ill woman,
So loud I hear ye lie;
For Annie of the Lochroyan
Is far out-our the sea.’

34
Fair Annie turnd her round about:
‘Weel, sine that it be sae,
May neer woman that has borne a son
Hae a heart sae fu o wae!

35
‘Take down, take down that mast o gowd,
Set up a mast of tree;
It disna become a forsaken lady
To sail sae royallie.’

36
When the cock had crawn, and the day did dawn,
And the sun began to peep,
Up then raise Lord Gregory,
And sair, sair did he weep.

37
‘O I hae dreamd a dream, mither,
I wish it may bring good!
That the bonny lass of Lochroyan
At my bower-window stood.

38
‘O I hae dreamd a dream, mither,
The thought o’t gars me greet!
That fair Annie of Lochroyan
Lay dead at my bed-feet.’

39
‘Gin it be for Annie of Lochroyan
That ye make a’ this main,
She stood last night at your bower-door,
But I hae sent her hame.’

40
‘O wae betide ye, ill woman,
An ill death may ye die!
That wadna open the door yoursell
Nor yet wad waken me.’

41
O he’s gane down to yon shore-side,
As fast as he coud dree,
And there he saw fair Annie’s bark
A rowing our the sea.

42
‘O Annie, Annie,’ loud he cried,
‘O Annie, O Annie, bide!’
But ay the mair he cried Annie
The braider grew the tide.

43
‘O Annie, Annie, dear Annie,
Dear Annie, speak to me!’
But ay the louder he gan call
The louder roard the sea.

44
The wind blew loud, the waves rose hie
And dashd the boat on shore;
Fair Annie’s corpse was in the feume,
The babe rose never more.

45
Lord Gregory tore his gowden locks
And made a wafu moan;
Fair Annie’s corpse lay at his feet,
His bonny son was gone.

46
‘O cherry, cherry was her cheek,
And gowden was her hair,
And coral, coral was her lips,
Nane might with her compare.’

47
Then first he kissd her pale, pale cheek,
And syne he kissd her chin,
And syne he kissd her wane, wane lips,
There was na breath within.

48
‘O wae betide my ill mither,
An ill death may she die!
She turnd my true-love frae my door,
Who came so far to me.

49
‘O wae betide my ill mither,
An ill death may she die!
She has no been the deid o ane,
But she’s been the deid of three.’

50
Then he’s taen out a little dart,
Hung low down by his gore,
He thrust it through and through his heart,
And words spak never more.

1^1, 43^1. Oh.

77. Sweet William’s Ghost.

P. 233. #G.# These three stanzas, which Scott annexed to ‘Clerk Saunders’ in the second edition of the Minstrelsy, 1803, II, 41, were contributed by the Ettrick Shepherd, who writes, not quite lucidly: “Altho this ballad [Clerk Saunders] is mixed with another, according to my mother’s edition, in favour of whose originality I am strongly prepossessed, yet, as the one does in no sense disgrace the other in their present form, according to her it ends thus.”

“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 141, Abbotsford; in the handwriting of James Hogg.

1
‘But plett a wand o bonnie birk
An lay it on my breast,
An drap a tear upon my grave,
An wiss my saul gude rest.

2
‘But fair Marget, an rare Marget,
An Marget, o verity,
If eer ye loe another man,
Neer loe him as ye did me.’

3
But up then crew the milk-white cock,
An up then crew the grey;
Her lover vanishd in the air,
An she gaed weepin away.

78. The Unquiet Grave.

P. 236 b. Add: Waldau’s Böhmische Granaten, II, 121, No 176.

236 f., III, 512 f. The Rev. S. Baring-Gould has recovered several copies of ‘The Unquiet Grave’ in the West Country. It will be observed that the variations in this ballad do not take a wide range. The verses are not always sung in the same order; there is not story enough to keep them in place. Mr Baring-Gould informs me that there is a Devon popular tale which is very similar (possibly a prose version of the ballad). In this, a bramble-leaf comes between the lips of the maiden and her dead lover, and her life is saved thereby. This tale is utilized in the ballad as printed in Songs of the West, No 6, ‘Cold blows the wind, sweetheart!’

* * * * *

H

#a.# Sent Rev. S. Baring-Gould by Mrs Gibbons, daughter of the late Sir W. L. Trelawney, as she remembered it sung by her nurse, Elizabeth Doidge, a woman of the neighborhood of Brentor, about 1828. #b.# Obtained by the same from John Woodrich, blacksmith, parish of Thrustleton, as heard from his grandmother about 1848. #c.# By the same, from Anne Roberts, Scobbeter.

1
‘Cold blows the wind tonight, sweet-heart,
Cold are the drops of rain;
The very first love that ever I had
In greenwood he was slain.

2
‘I’ll do as much for my sweet-heart
As any young woman may;
I’ll sit and mourn on his grave-side
A twelve-month and a day.’

3
A twelve-month and a day being up,
The ghost began to speak:
‘Why sit you here by my grave-side
And will not let me sleep?

4
‘What is it that you want of me,
Or what of me would have?’
‘A kiss from off your lily-white lips,
And that is all I crave!’

5
‘Cold are my lips in death, sweet-heart,
My breath is earthy strong;
To gain a kiss of my cold lips,
Your time would not be long.

6
‘If you were not my own sweet-heart,
As now I know you be,
I’d tear you as the withered leaves
That grew on yonder tree.’

7
‘O don’t you mind the garden, love,
Where you and I did walk?
The fairest flower that blossomd there
Is withered on the stalk.

* * * * * *

8
‘And now I’ve mourned upon his grave
A twelvemonth and a day,
We’ll set our sails before the wind
And so we’ll sail away.’

b.

1
Cold blows the wind to-night, my love,
Cold are the drops of rain;
The very first love that ever I had
In greenwood he was slain.

2
‘I’ll do as much for my true-love
As any young woman may;
I’ll sit and mourn upon his grave
A twelve-month and a day.’

3
When a twelve-month and a day were up,
His body straight arose:
‘What brings you weeping oer my grave
That I get no repose?’

4
‘O think upon the garden, love,
Where you and I did walk;
The fairest flower that blossomd there
Is withered on the stalk.

5
‘The stalk will bear no leaves, sweet-heart.
The flower will neer return,
And my true-love is dead, is dead,
And I do naught but mourn.’

6
‘What is it that you want of me
And will not let me sleep?
Your salten tears they trickle down
And wet my winding-sheet.’

7
‘What is it that I want of thee,
O what of thee in grave?
A kiss from off your lily-white lips,
And that is all I crave.’

8
‘Cold are my lips in death, sweet-heart,
My breath is earthy strong;
If you do touch my clay-cold lips,
Your time will not be long.’

9
‘Cold though your lips in death, sweet-heart,
One kiss is all I crave;
I care not, if I kiss but thee,
That I should share thy grave.’

10
‘Go fetch me a light from dungeon deep,
Wring water from a stone,
And likewise milk from a maiden’s breast
That never maid hath none. (_Read_ babe had.)

* * * * * *

11
‘Now if you were not true in word,
As now I know you be,
I’d tear you as the withered leaves
Are torn from off the tree.’

c.

1
‘It’s for to meet the falling drops,
Cold fall the drops of rain;
The last true-love, _etc._

2
‘I’ll do as much for my fair love
As any,’ _etc._

_The rest “almost exactly” as #b#._