Lord Ingram and Childe Vyet,Were both born in ane bower,Had both their loves on one Lady,The less was their honour.Childe Vyet and Lord Ingram,5Were both born in one hall,Had both their loves on one LadyThe worse did them befall.Lord Ingram woo'd the Lady Maiserey,From father and from mother;10Lord Ingram woo'd the Lady Maiserey,From sister and from brother.Lord Ingram wooed the Lady Maiserey,With leave of all her kin;And every one gave full consent,15But she said no, to him.Lord Ingram wooed the Lady Maiserey,Into her father's ha';Childe Vyet wooed the Lady Maiserey,Among the sheets so sma'.20Now it fell out upon a day,She was dressing her head,That ben did come her father dear,Wearing the gold so red."Get up now, Lady Maiserey,25Put on your wedding gown,For Lord Ingram will be here,Your wedding must be done!""I'd rather be Childe Vyet's wife,The white fish for to sell,30Before I were Lord Ingram's wife,To wear the silk so well!"I'd rather be Childe Vyet's wife,With him to beg my bread,Before I'd be Lord Ingram's wife,35To wear the gold so red."Where will I get a bonny boy,Will win gold to his fee,Will run unto Childe Vyet's ha',With this letter from me?"40"O here, I am the boy," says one,"Will win gold to my fee,And carry away any letter,To Childe Vyet from thee."And when he found the bridges broke,45He bent his bow and swam;And when he found the grass growing,He hasten'd and he ran.And when he came to Vyet's castle,He did not knock nor call,50But set his bent bow to his breast,And lightly leaped the wall;And ere the porter open'd the gate,The boy was in the hall.The first line that Childe Vyet read,55A grieved man was he;The next line that he looked on,A tear blinded his e'e."What ails my own brother," he says,"He'll not let my love be;60But I'll send to my brother's bridal;The woman shall be free."Take four and twenty bucks and ewes,And ten tun of the wine,And bid my love be blythe and glad,65And I will follow syne."There was not a groom about that castle,But got a gown of green;And a' was blythe, and a' was glad,But Lady Maisereywas wi' wean.70There was no cook about the kitchen,But got a gown of gray;And a' was blythe, and a' was glad,But Lady Maiserey was wae.'Tween Mary Kirk and that castle,75Was all spread o'er withgarl,To keep the lady and her maidens,From tramping on themarl.From Mary Kirk to that castle,Was spread a cloth of gold,80To keep the lady and her maidens,From treading on the mould.When mass was sung, and bells were rung,And all men bound for bed,Then Lord Ingram and Lady Maiserey,85In one bed they were laid.When they were laid upon their bed,It was baith soft and warm,He laid his hand over her side,Says he, "you are with bairn."90"I told you once, so did I twice,When ye came as my wooer,That Childe Vyet, your one brother,One night lay in my bower."I told you twice, so did I thrice,95Ere ye came me to wed,That Childe Vyet, your one brother,One night lay in my bed!""O will you father your bairn on me,And on no other man?100And I'll gie him to his dowry,Full fifty ploughs of land.""I will not father my bairn on you,Nor on no wrongous man,Tho' you'd gie him to his dowry,105Five thousand ploughs of land."Then up did start him Childe Vyet,Shed by his yellow hair,And gave Lord Ingram to the heart,A deep wound and a sair.110Then up did start him Lord Ingram,Shed by his yellow hair,And gave Childe Vyet to the heart,A deep wound and a sair.There was no pity for the two lords,115Where they were lying slain,All was for Lady Maiserey:In that bower she gaed brain!There was no pity for the two lords,When they were lying dead,120All was for Lady Maiserey:In that bower she went mad!"O get to me a cloak of cloth,A staff of good hard tree;If I have been an evil woman,125I shall beg till I die."For ae bit I'll beg for Childe Vyet,For Lord Ingram I'll beg three,All for the honourable marriage, thatAt Mary Kirk he gave me!"130
Lord Ingram and Childe Vyet,Were both born in ane bower,Had both their loves on one Lady,The less was their honour.
Childe Vyet and Lord Ingram,5Were both born in one hall,Had both their loves on one LadyThe worse did them befall.
Lord Ingram woo'd the Lady Maiserey,From father and from mother;10Lord Ingram woo'd the Lady Maiserey,From sister and from brother.
Lord Ingram wooed the Lady Maiserey,With leave of all her kin;And every one gave full consent,15But she said no, to him.
Lord Ingram wooed the Lady Maiserey,Into her father's ha';Childe Vyet wooed the Lady Maiserey,Among the sheets so sma'.20
Now it fell out upon a day,She was dressing her head,That ben did come her father dear,Wearing the gold so red.
"Get up now, Lady Maiserey,25Put on your wedding gown,For Lord Ingram will be here,Your wedding must be done!"
"I'd rather be Childe Vyet's wife,The white fish for to sell,30Before I were Lord Ingram's wife,To wear the silk so well!
"I'd rather be Childe Vyet's wife,With him to beg my bread,Before I'd be Lord Ingram's wife,35To wear the gold so red.
"Where will I get a bonny boy,Will win gold to his fee,Will run unto Childe Vyet's ha',With this letter from me?"40
"O here, I am the boy," says one,"Will win gold to my fee,And carry away any letter,To Childe Vyet from thee."
And when he found the bridges broke,45He bent his bow and swam;And when he found the grass growing,He hasten'd and he ran.
And when he came to Vyet's castle,He did not knock nor call,50But set his bent bow to his breast,And lightly leaped the wall;And ere the porter open'd the gate,The boy was in the hall.
The first line that Childe Vyet read,55A grieved man was he;The next line that he looked on,A tear blinded his e'e.
"What ails my own brother," he says,"He'll not let my love be;60But I'll send to my brother's bridal;The woman shall be free.
"Take four and twenty bucks and ewes,And ten tun of the wine,And bid my love be blythe and glad,65And I will follow syne."
There was not a groom about that castle,But got a gown of green;And a' was blythe, and a' was glad,But Lady Maisereywas wi' wean.70
There was no cook about the kitchen,But got a gown of gray;And a' was blythe, and a' was glad,But Lady Maiserey was wae.
'Tween Mary Kirk and that castle,75Was all spread o'er withgarl,To keep the lady and her maidens,From tramping on themarl.
From Mary Kirk to that castle,Was spread a cloth of gold,80To keep the lady and her maidens,From treading on the mould.
When mass was sung, and bells were rung,And all men bound for bed,Then Lord Ingram and Lady Maiserey,85In one bed they were laid.
When they were laid upon their bed,It was baith soft and warm,He laid his hand over her side,Says he, "you are with bairn."90
"I told you once, so did I twice,When ye came as my wooer,That Childe Vyet, your one brother,One night lay in my bower.
"I told you twice, so did I thrice,95Ere ye came me to wed,That Childe Vyet, your one brother,One night lay in my bed!"
"O will you father your bairn on me,And on no other man?100And I'll gie him to his dowry,Full fifty ploughs of land."
"I will not father my bairn on you,Nor on no wrongous man,Tho' you'd gie him to his dowry,105Five thousand ploughs of land."
Then up did start him Childe Vyet,Shed by his yellow hair,And gave Lord Ingram to the heart,A deep wound and a sair.110
Then up did start him Lord Ingram,Shed by his yellow hair,And gave Childe Vyet to the heart,A deep wound and a sair.
There was no pity for the two lords,115Where they were lying slain,All was for Lady Maiserey:In that bower she gaed brain!
There was no pity for the two lords,When they were lying dead,120All was for Lady Maiserey:In that bower she went mad!
"O get to me a cloak of cloth,A staff of good hard tree;If I have been an evil woman,125I shall beg till I die.
"For ae bit I'll beg for Childe Vyet,For Lord Ingram I'll beg three,All for the honourable marriage, thatAt Mary Kirk he gave me!"130
4. The less was their bonheur.Motherwell.70, she was neen. Motherwell.76, gold.78, mould. N. C. G.
4. The less was their bonheur.Motherwell.
70, she was neen. Motherwell.
76, gold.
78, mould. N. C. G.
This ballad, said to be very popular in Scotland, was taken down from recitation by Jamieson, and is extracted from his collection, vol. i. p. 73. A different copy, from Motherwell'sMinstrelsy, p. 234, is given in the Appendix. Another, styledYoung Prince James, may be seen in Buchan'sBallads, vol. i. 103.Bonnie Susie Cleland, Motherwell, p. 221, is still another version.
InLady Maisrywe seem to have the English form of a tragic story which, starting from Denmark, has spread over almost all the north of Europe, that ofKing Waldemar and his Sister. Grundtvig's collection gives seven copies of the Danish ballad upon this subject (Kong Valdemar og hans Söster, No. 126), the oldest from a manuscript of the beginning of the 17th century. Five Icelandic versions are known, one Norse, one Faroish, five Swedish (four of them in Arwidsson, No. 53,Liten Kerstin och Fru Sofia), and several in German, asGraf Hans von Holstein und seine Schwester Annchristine, Erk,Liederhort, p. 155;Der Grausame Bruder, Erk, p. 153, and Hoffmann,Schlesische Volkslieder, No. 27;Der Grobe Bruder,Wunderhorn, ii. 272;Der Pfalzgraf am Rhein,id.i. 259, etc.; also a fragment in Wendish. The relationship of the English ballad to the rest of the cycle can perhaps be easiest shown by comparison with the simplified and corrupted German versions.
The story appears to be founded on facts which occurred during the reign and in the family of the Danish king, Waldemar the First, sometime between 1157 and 1167. Waldemar is described as being, with all his greatness, of a relentless and cruel disposition (in ira pertinax;in suos tantum plus justo crudelior). Tradition, however, has imputed to him a brutal ferocity beyond belief. In the ballad before us, Lady Maisry suffers for her weakness by being burned at the stake, but in the Danish, Swedish, and German ballads, the king's sister is beaten to death with leathern whips, by her brother's own hand.
"Er schlug sie so sehre, er schlug sie so lang,Bis Lung und Leber aus dem Leib ihr sprang!"
"Er schlug sie so sehre, er schlug sie so lang,Bis Lung und Leber aus dem Leib ihr sprang!"
The Icelandic and Faroe ballads have nothing of this horrible ferocity, but contain a story which is much nearer to probability, if not to historical truth. While King Waldemar is absent on an expedition against the Wends, his sister Kristín is drawn into aliaisonwith her second-cousin, the result of which is the birth of two children. Sofía, the Queen, maliciously makes the state of things known to the king the moment he returns (which is on the very day of Kristín's lying in, according to the Danish ballad), but he will not believe the story,—all the more because the accused parties are within prohibited degrees ofconsanguinity. Kristín is summoned to come instantly to her brother, and obeys the message, though she is weak with childbirth, and knows that the journey will cost her her life. She goes to the court on horseback (in the Danish ballads falling from the saddle once or twice on the way), and on her arrival is put to various tests to ascertain her condition, concluding with a long dance with the king, to which, having held out for a considerable time, she at last succumbs, and falls dead in her brother's arms.
The incidents of the journey on horseback, and the cruel probation by the dance, are found in the ballad which follows the present (Fair Janet), and these coincidences Grundtvig considers sufficient to establish its derivation from the Danish. Thegeneralsimilarity ofLady MaisrytoKing Waldemar and his Sisteris, however, much more striking. For our part, we are inclined to believe thatboththe English ballads had this origin, but the difference in their actual form is so great, that, notwithstanding this conviction, we have not felt warranted in putting them together.
The young lords o' the north countryHave all a-wooing gane,To win the love of lady Maisry,But o' them she wou'd hae nane.O thae hae sought her, lady Maisry,5Wi' broaches, and wi' rings;And they hae courted her, lady Maisry,Wi' a' kin kind of things.And they hae sought her, lady Maisry,Frae father and frae mither;10And they hae sought her, lady Maisry,Frae sister and frae brither.And they hae follow'd her, lady Maisry,Thro' chamber, and through ha';But a' that they could say to her,15Her answer still was "Na.""O haud your tongues, young men," she said,"And think nae mair on me;For I've gi'en my love to an English lord,Sae think nae mair on me."20Her father's kitchey-boy heard that,(An ill death mot he die!)And he is in to her brother,As fast as gang cou'd he."O is my father and my mother weel,25But and my brothers three?Gin my sister lady Maisry be weel,There's naething can ail me.""Your father and your mother is weel,But and your brothers three;30Your sister, lady Maisry's, weel,Sae big wi' bairn is she.""A malison light on the tongue,Sic tidings tells to me!—But gin it be a lie you tell,35You shall be hanged hie."He's doen him to his sister's bower,Wi' mickle dool and care;And there he saw her, lady Maisry,Kembing her yellow hair.40"O wha is aucht that bairn," he says,"That ye sae big are wi'?And gin ye winna own the truth,This moment ye sall die."She's turned her richt and round about,45And the kembe fell frae her han';A trembling seized her fair bodie,And her rosy cheek grew wan."O pardon me, my brother dear,And the truth I'll tell to thee;50My bairn it is to Lord William,And he is betrothed to me.""O cou'dna ye gotten dukes, or lords,Intill your ain countrie,That ye drew up wi' an English dog,55To bring this shame on me?"But ye maun gi'e up your English lord,Whan your young babe is born;For, gin ye keep by him an hour langer,Your life shall be forlorn."60"I will gi'e up this English lord,Till my young babe be born;But the never a day nor hour langer,Though my life should be forlorn.""O whare is a' my merry young men,65Wham I gi'e meat and fee,To pu' the bracken and the thorn,To burn this vile whore wi'?""O whare will I get a bonny boy,To help me in my need,70To rin wi' haste to Lord William,And bid him come wi' speed?"O out it spak a bonny boy,Stood by her brother's side;"It's I wad rin your errand, lady,75O'er a' the warld wide."Aft ha'e I run your errands, lady,When blawin baith wind and weet;But now I'll rin your errand, lady,With saut tears on my cheek."80O whan he came to broken briggs,He bent his bow and swam;And whan he came to the green grass growin',He slack'd his shoon and ran.And when he came to Lord William's yeats,85He badena to chap or ca';But set his bent bow to his breast,And lightly lap the wa';And, or the porter was at the yeat,The boy was in the ha'.90"O is my biggins broken, boy?Or is my towers won?Or is my lady lighter yet,O' a dear daughter or son?""Your biggin isna broken, sir,95Nor is your towers won;But the fairest lady in a' the landThis day for you maun burn.""O saddle to me the black, the black,Or saddle to me the brown;100Or saddle to me the swiftest steedThat ever rade frae a town."Or he was near a mile awa',She heard his weir-horse sneeze;"Mend up the fire, my fause brother,105It's nae come to my knees."O whan he lighted at the yeat,She heard his bridle ring:"Mend up the fire, my fause brother;It's far yet frae my chin.110"Mend up the fire to me, brother,Mend up the fire to me;For I see him comin' hard and fast,Will soon men't up for thee."O gin my hands had been loose, Willy,115Sae hard as they are boun',I wadd hae turn'd me frae the gleed,And casten out your young son.""O I'll gar burn for you, Maisry,Your father and your mother;120And I'll gar burn for you, Maisry,Your sister and your brother;"And I'll gar burn for you, Maisry,The chief o' a' your kin;And the last bonfire that I come to,125Mysell I will cast in."
The young lords o' the north countryHave all a-wooing gane,To win the love of lady Maisry,But o' them she wou'd hae nane.
O thae hae sought her, lady Maisry,5Wi' broaches, and wi' rings;And they hae courted her, lady Maisry,Wi' a' kin kind of things.
And they hae sought her, lady Maisry,Frae father and frae mither;10And they hae sought her, lady Maisry,Frae sister and frae brither.
And they hae follow'd her, lady Maisry,Thro' chamber, and through ha';But a' that they could say to her,15Her answer still was "Na."
"O haud your tongues, young men," she said,"And think nae mair on me;For I've gi'en my love to an English lord,Sae think nae mair on me."20
Her father's kitchey-boy heard that,(An ill death mot he die!)And he is in to her brother,As fast as gang cou'd he.
"O is my father and my mother weel,25But and my brothers three?Gin my sister lady Maisry be weel,There's naething can ail me."
"Your father and your mother is weel,But and your brothers three;30Your sister, lady Maisry's, weel,Sae big wi' bairn is she."
"A malison light on the tongue,Sic tidings tells to me!—But gin it be a lie you tell,35You shall be hanged hie."
He's doen him to his sister's bower,Wi' mickle dool and care;And there he saw her, lady Maisry,Kembing her yellow hair.40
"O wha is aucht that bairn," he says,"That ye sae big are wi'?And gin ye winna own the truth,This moment ye sall die."
She's turned her richt and round about,45And the kembe fell frae her han';A trembling seized her fair bodie,And her rosy cheek grew wan.
"O pardon me, my brother dear,And the truth I'll tell to thee;50My bairn it is to Lord William,And he is betrothed to me."
"O cou'dna ye gotten dukes, or lords,Intill your ain countrie,That ye drew up wi' an English dog,55To bring this shame on me?
"But ye maun gi'e up your English lord,Whan your young babe is born;For, gin ye keep by him an hour langer,Your life shall be forlorn."60
"I will gi'e up this English lord,Till my young babe be born;But the never a day nor hour langer,Though my life should be forlorn."
"O whare is a' my merry young men,65Wham I gi'e meat and fee,To pu' the bracken and the thorn,To burn this vile whore wi'?"
"O whare will I get a bonny boy,To help me in my need,70To rin wi' haste to Lord William,And bid him come wi' speed?"
O out it spak a bonny boy,Stood by her brother's side;"It's I wad rin your errand, lady,75O'er a' the warld wide.
"Aft ha'e I run your errands, lady,When blawin baith wind and weet;But now I'll rin your errand, lady,With saut tears on my cheek."80
O whan he came to broken briggs,He bent his bow and swam;And whan he came to the green grass growin',He slack'd his shoon and ran.
And when he came to Lord William's yeats,85He badena to chap or ca';But set his bent bow to his breast,And lightly lap the wa';And, or the porter was at the yeat,The boy was in the ha'.90
"O is my biggins broken, boy?Or is my towers won?Or is my lady lighter yet,O' a dear daughter or son?"
"Your biggin isna broken, sir,95Nor is your towers won;But the fairest lady in a' the landThis day for you maun burn."
"O saddle to me the black, the black,Or saddle to me the brown;100Or saddle to me the swiftest steedThat ever rade frae a town."
Or he was near a mile awa',She heard his weir-horse sneeze;"Mend up the fire, my fause brother,105It's nae come to my knees."
O whan he lighted at the yeat,She heard his bridle ring:"Mend up the fire, my fause brother;It's far yet frae my chin.110
"Mend up the fire to me, brother,Mend up the fire to me;For I see him comin' hard and fast,Will soon men't up for thee.
"O gin my hands had been loose, Willy,115Sae hard as they are boun',I wadd hae turn'd me frae the gleed,And casten out your young son."
"O I'll gar burn for you, Maisry,Your father and your mother;120And I'll gar burn for you, Maisry,Your sister and your brother;
"And I'll gar burn for you, Maisry,The chief o' a' your kin;And the last bonfire that I come to,125Mysell I will cast in."
v.41. See preface toClerk Saunders, p. 319.
v.41. See preface toClerk Saunders, p. 319.
From Sharpe'sBallad Book, p. 1.
"This ballad, the subject of which appears to have been very popular, is printed as it was sung by an old woman in Perthshire. The air is extremely beautiful."
Herd gave an imperfect version of this ballad under the title ofWillie and Annet, in hisScottish Songs, i. 219; repeated after him in Ritson'sScottish Songs, and in Johnson'sMuseum. Finlay's copy, improved, but made up of fragments, follows the present, and in the Appendix isSweet Willie and Fair Maisry, from Buchan's collection. We have followed Motherwell by inserting (in brackets) three stanzas fromWillie and AnnetandSweet Willie, which contribute slightly to complete Sharpe's copy. None of these ballads is satisfactory, though Sharpe's is the best. Touching the relation ofFair Janetto the Danish ballad ofKing Waldemar and his Sister, the reader will please look at the preface to the preceding ballad.
"Ye maun gang to your father, Janet,Ye maun gang to him soon;Ye maun gang to your father, Janet,In case that his days are dune!"Janet's awa' to her father,5As fast as she could hie;"O what's your will wi' me, father?O what's your will wi' me?""My will wi' you, Fair Janet," he said,"It is both bed and board;10Some say that ye lo'e Sweet Willie,But ye maun wed a French lord.""A French lord maun I wed, father?A French lord maun I wed?Then, by my sooth," quo' Fair Janet,15"He's ne'er enter my bed."Janet's awa' to her chamber,As fast as she could go;Wha's the first ane that tapped there,But Sweet Willie her jo!20"O we maun part this love, Willie,That has been lang between;There's a French lord coming o'er the seaTo wed me wi' a ring;There 's a French lord coming o'er the sea,25To wed and tak me hame.""If we maun part this love, Janet,It causeth mickle woe;If we maun part this love, Janet,It makes me into mourning go."30"But ye maun gang to your three sisters,Meg, Marion, and Jean;Tell them to come to Fair Janet,In case that her days are dune."Willie's awa' to his three sisters,35Meg, Marion, and Jean;"O haste, and gang to Fair Janet,I fear that her days are dune."Some drew to them their silken hose,Some drew to them their shoon,40Some drew to them their silk manteils,Their coverings to put on;And they're awa' to Fair Janet,By the hie light o' the moon.* * * * * * *"O I have born this babe, Willie,45Wi' mickle toil and pain;Take hame, take hame, your babe, Willie,For nurse I dare be nane."He's tane his young son in his arms,And kist him cheek and chin,—50And he's awa' to his mother's bower,By the hie light o' the moon."O open, open, mother," he says,"O open, and let me in;The rain rains on my yellow hair,55And the dew drops o'er my chin,—And I hae my young son in my arms,I fear that his days are dune."With her fingers lang and sma'She lifted up the pin;60And with her arms lang and sma'Received the baby in."Gae back, gae back now, Sweet Willie,And comfort your fair lady;For where ye had but ae nourice,65Your young son shall hae three."Willie he was scarce awa',And the lady put to bed,When in and came her father dear:"Make haste, and busk the bride."70"There's a sair pain in my head, father,There's a sair pain in my side;And ill, O ill, am I, father,This day for to be a bride.""O ye maun busk this bonny bride,75And put a gay mantle on;For she shall wed this auld French lord,Gin she should die the morn."Some put on the gay green robes,And some put on the brown;80But Janet put on the scarlet robes,To shine foremost through the town.And some they mounted the black steed,And some mounted the brown;But Janet mounted the milk-white steed,85To ride foremost through the town."O wha will guide your horse, Janet?O wha will guide him best?""O wha but Willie, my true love,He kens I lo'e him best!"90And when they cam to Marie's kirk,To tye the haly ban,Fair Janet's cheek looked pale and wan,And her colour gaed and cam.When dinner it was past and done,95And dancing to begin,"O we'll go take the bride's maidens,And we'll go fill the ring."O ben than cam the auld French lord,Saying, "Bride, will ye dance with me?""Awa', awa', ye auld French Lord,100Your face I downa see."O ben than cam now Sweet Willie,He cam with ane advance:"O I'll go tak the bride's maidens,105And we'll go tak a dance.""I've seen ither days wi' you, Willie,And so has mony mae;Ye would hae danced wi' me mysel',Let a' my maidens gae."110O ben than cam now Sweet Willie,Saying, "Bride, will ye dance wi' me?""Aye, by my sooth, and that I will,Gin my back should break in three."[And she's ta'en Willie by the hand,115The tear blinded her e'e;"O I wad dance wi' my true love,Tho' bursts my heart in three!"]She hadna turned her throw the dance,Throw the dance but thrice,120Whan she fell doun at Willie's feet,And up did never rise![She's ta'en her bracelet frae her arm,Her garter frae her knee:"Gie that, gie that, to my young son;125He'll ne'er his mother see."]Willie's ta'en the key of his coffer,And gi'en it to his man;"Gae hame, and tell my mother dear,My horse he has me slain;130Bid her be kind to my young son,For father he has nane."["Gar deal, gar deal the bread," he cried,"Gar deal, gar deal the wine;This day has seen my true love's death,135This night shall witness mine."]The tane was buried in Marie's kirk,And the tither in Marie's quire:Out of the tane there grew a birk,And the tither a bonny brier.140
"Ye maun gang to your father, Janet,Ye maun gang to him soon;Ye maun gang to your father, Janet,In case that his days are dune!"
Janet's awa' to her father,5As fast as she could hie;"O what's your will wi' me, father?O what's your will wi' me?"
"My will wi' you, Fair Janet," he said,"It is both bed and board;10Some say that ye lo'e Sweet Willie,But ye maun wed a French lord."
"A French lord maun I wed, father?A French lord maun I wed?Then, by my sooth," quo' Fair Janet,15"He's ne'er enter my bed."
Janet's awa' to her chamber,As fast as she could go;Wha's the first ane that tapped there,But Sweet Willie her jo!20
"O we maun part this love, Willie,That has been lang between;There's a French lord coming o'er the seaTo wed me wi' a ring;There 's a French lord coming o'er the sea,25To wed and tak me hame."
"If we maun part this love, Janet,It causeth mickle woe;If we maun part this love, Janet,It makes me into mourning go."30
"But ye maun gang to your three sisters,Meg, Marion, and Jean;Tell them to come to Fair Janet,In case that her days are dune."
Willie's awa' to his three sisters,35Meg, Marion, and Jean;"O haste, and gang to Fair Janet,I fear that her days are dune."
Some drew to them their silken hose,Some drew to them their shoon,40Some drew to them their silk manteils,Their coverings to put on;And they're awa' to Fair Janet,By the hie light o' the moon.
* * * * * * *
"O I have born this babe, Willie,45Wi' mickle toil and pain;Take hame, take hame, your babe, Willie,For nurse I dare be nane."
He's tane his young son in his arms,And kist him cheek and chin,—50And he's awa' to his mother's bower,By the hie light o' the moon.
"O open, open, mother," he says,"O open, and let me in;The rain rains on my yellow hair,55And the dew drops o'er my chin,—And I hae my young son in my arms,I fear that his days are dune."
With her fingers lang and sma'She lifted up the pin;60And with her arms lang and sma'Received the baby in.
"Gae back, gae back now, Sweet Willie,And comfort your fair lady;For where ye had but ae nourice,65Your young son shall hae three."
Willie he was scarce awa',And the lady put to bed,When in and came her father dear:"Make haste, and busk the bride."70
"There's a sair pain in my head, father,There's a sair pain in my side;And ill, O ill, am I, father,This day for to be a bride."
"O ye maun busk this bonny bride,75And put a gay mantle on;For she shall wed this auld French lord,Gin she should die the morn."
Some put on the gay green robes,And some put on the brown;80But Janet put on the scarlet robes,To shine foremost through the town.
And some they mounted the black steed,And some mounted the brown;But Janet mounted the milk-white steed,85To ride foremost through the town.
"O wha will guide your horse, Janet?O wha will guide him best?""O wha but Willie, my true love,He kens I lo'e him best!"90
And when they cam to Marie's kirk,To tye the haly ban,Fair Janet's cheek looked pale and wan,And her colour gaed and cam.
When dinner it was past and done,95And dancing to begin,"O we'll go take the bride's maidens,And we'll go fill the ring."
O ben than cam the auld French lord,Saying, "Bride, will ye dance with me?""Awa', awa', ye auld French Lord,100Your face I downa see."
O ben than cam now Sweet Willie,He cam with ane advance:"O I'll go tak the bride's maidens,105And we'll go tak a dance."
"I've seen ither days wi' you, Willie,And so has mony mae;Ye would hae danced wi' me mysel',Let a' my maidens gae."110
O ben than cam now Sweet Willie,Saying, "Bride, will ye dance wi' me?""Aye, by my sooth, and that I will,Gin my back should break in three."
[And she's ta'en Willie by the hand,115The tear blinded her e'e;"O I wad dance wi' my true love,Tho' bursts my heart in three!"]
She hadna turned her throw the dance,Throw the dance but thrice,120Whan she fell doun at Willie's feet,And up did never rise!
[She's ta'en her bracelet frae her arm,Her garter frae her knee:"Gie that, gie that, to my young son;125He'll ne'er his mother see."]
Willie's ta'en the key of his coffer,And gi'en it to his man;"Gae hame, and tell my mother dear,My horse he has me slain;130Bid her be kind to my young son,For father he has nane."
["Gar deal, gar deal the bread," he cried,"Gar deal, gar deal the wine;This day has seen my true love's death,135This night shall witness mine."]
The tane was buried in Marie's kirk,And the tither in Marie's quire:Out of the tane there grew a birk,And the tither a bonny brier.140
"This ballad has had the misfortune, in common with many others, of being much mutilated by reciters. I have endeavoured, by the assistance of some fragments, to make it as complete as possible; and have even taken the liberty of altering the arrangement of some of the stanzas of a lately-procured copy, that they might the better cohere with those already printed."Finlay'sScottish Ballads, ii. 61.
"Will you marry the southland lord,A queen o' fair England to be?Or will you mourn for sweet Willie,The morn upon yon lea?""I will marry the southland lord,5Father, sen it is your will;But I'd rather it were my burial day,For my grave I'm going till."O go, O go now my bower wife,O go now hastilie,10O go now to sweet Willie's bower,And bid him cum speak to me.—"Now, Willie, gif ye love me weel,As sae it seems to me,Gar build, gar build a bonny ship,15Gar build it speedilie!"And we will sail the sea sae greenUnto some far countrie;Or we'll sail to some bonny isle,Stands lanely midst the sea."20But lang or e'er the ship was built,Or deck'd or rigged out,Cam sic a pain in Annet's back,That down she cou'dna lout."Now, Willie, gin ye love me weel,25As sae it seems to me,O haste, haste, bring me to my bower,And my bower maidens three."He's ta'en her in his arms twa,And kiss'd her cheek and chin,30He's brocht her to her ain sweet bower,But nae bower maid was in."Now leave my bower, Willie," she said,"Now leave me to my lane;Was never man in a lady's bower35When she was travailing."He's stepped three steps down the stair,Upon the marble stane,Sae loud's he heard his young son greet,But and his lady mane.40"Now come, now come, Willie," she said,"Tak your young son frae me,And hie him to your mother's bower,With speed and privacie."And he is to his mother's bower,45As fast as he could rin;"Open, open, my mother dear,Open, and let me in;"For the rain rains on my yellow hair,The dew stands on my chin,50And I have something in my lap,And I wad fain be in.""O go, O go now, sweet Willie,And make your lady blithe,For wherever you had ae nourice,55Your young son shall hae five."—Out spak Annet's mother dear,An' she spak a word o' pride;Says, "Whare is a' our bride's maidens,They're no busking the bride?"60"O haud your tongue, my mother dear,Your speaking let it be,For I'm sae fair and full o' flesh,Little busking will serve me."Out an' spak the bride's maidens,65They spak a word o' pride;Says, "Whare is a' the fine cleiding?Its we maun busk the bride.""Deal hooly wi' my head, maidens,Deal hooly wi' my hair,70For it was washen late yestreen,And it is wonder sair."My maidens, easy wi' my back,And easy wi' my side;O set my saddle saft, Willie,75I am a tender bride."O up then spak the southland lord,And blinkit wi' his ee;"I trow this lady's born a bairn,"Then laucht loud lauchters three.80"Ye hae gi'en me the gowk, Annet,But I'll gie you the scorn;For there's no a bell in a' the townShall ring for you the morn."Out and spak then sweet Willie,85"Sae loud's I hear you lie,There's no a bell in a' the townBut shall ring for Annet and me."And Willie swore a great great oath,And he swore by the thorn,90That she was as free o' a child that night,As the night that she was born.O up an' spakthe brisk bridegroom,And he spak up wi' pride,"Gin I should lay my gloves in pawn,95I will dance wi' the bride.""Now haud your tongue,my lord," she said,"Wi' dancing let me be,I am sae thin in flesh and blude,Sma' dancing will serve me."100But she's ta'en Willie by the hand,The tear blinded her ee;"But I wad dance wi' my true love,But bursts my heart in three."She's ta'en her bracelet frae her arm,105Her garter frae her knee,"Gie that, gie that, to my young son;He'll ne'er his mother see."
"Will you marry the southland lord,A queen o' fair England to be?Or will you mourn for sweet Willie,The morn upon yon lea?"
"I will marry the southland lord,5Father, sen it is your will;But I'd rather it were my burial day,For my grave I'm going till.
"O go, O go now my bower wife,O go now hastilie,10O go now to sweet Willie's bower,And bid him cum speak to me.—
"Now, Willie, gif ye love me weel,As sae it seems to me,Gar build, gar build a bonny ship,15Gar build it speedilie!
"And we will sail the sea sae greenUnto some far countrie;Or we'll sail to some bonny isle,Stands lanely midst the sea."20
But lang or e'er the ship was built,Or deck'd or rigged out,Cam sic a pain in Annet's back,That down she cou'dna lout.
"Now, Willie, gin ye love me weel,25As sae it seems to me,O haste, haste, bring me to my bower,And my bower maidens three."
He's ta'en her in his arms twa,And kiss'd her cheek and chin,30He's brocht her to her ain sweet bower,But nae bower maid was in.
"Now leave my bower, Willie," she said,"Now leave me to my lane;Was never man in a lady's bower35When she was travailing."
He's stepped three steps down the stair,Upon the marble stane,Sae loud's he heard his young son greet,But and his lady mane.40
"Now come, now come, Willie," she said,"Tak your young son frae me,And hie him to your mother's bower,With speed and privacie."
And he is to his mother's bower,45As fast as he could rin;"Open, open, my mother dear,Open, and let me in;
"For the rain rains on my yellow hair,The dew stands on my chin,50And I have something in my lap,And I wad fain be in."
"O go, O go now, sweet Willie,And make your lady blithe,For wherever you had ae nourice,55Your young son shall hae five."—
Out spak Annet's mother dear,An' she spak a word o' pride;Says, "Whare is a' our bride's maidens,They're no busking the bride?"60
"O haud your tongue, my mother dear,Your speaking let it be,For I'm sae fair and full o' flesh,Little busking will serve me."
Out an' spak the bride's maidens,65They spak a word o' pride;Says, "Whare is a' the fine cleiding?Its we maun busk the bride."
"Deal hooly wi' my head, maidens,Deal hooly wi' my hair,70For it was washen late yestreen,And it is wonder sair.
"My maidens, easy wi' my back,And easy wi' my side;O set my saddle saft, Willie,75I am a tender bride."
O up then spak the southland lord,And blinkit wi' his ee;"I trow this lady's born a bairn,"Then laucht loud lauchters three.80
"Ye hae gi'en me the gowk, Annet,But I'll gie you the scorn;For there's no a bell in a' the townShall ring for you the morn."
Out and spak then sweet Willie,85"Sae loud's I hear you lie,There's no a bell in a' the townBut shall ring for Annet and me."
And Willie swore a great great oath,And he swore by the thorn,90That she was as free o' a child that night,As the night that she was born.
O up an' spakthe brisk bridegroom,And he spak up wi' pride,"Gin I should lay my gloves in pawn,95I will dance wi' the bride."
"Now haud your tongue,my lord," she said,"Wi' dancing let me be,I am sae thin in flesh and blude,Sma' dancing will serve me."100
But she's ta'en Willie by the hand,The tear blinded her ee;"But I wad dance wi' my true love,But bursts my heart in three."
She's ta'en her bracelet frae her arm,105Her garter frae her knee,"Gie that, gie that, to my young son;He'll ne'er his mother see."
93.SicHerd. Finlay, then sweet Willie.97.SicHerd. Finlay, Willie, she said.
93.SicHerd. Finlay, then sweet Willie.
97.SicHerd. Finlay, Willie, she said.
Of this beautiful piece a complete copy was first published by Scott, another afterwards by Jamieson. Both are here given, the latter, as in some respects preferable, having the precedence. The ballad is found almost entire in Herd'sScottish Songs, i. 206, a short fragment in Johnson'sMuseum, p. 5, and a more considerable one, calledLove Gregory, in Buchan's collection, ii. 199. This last has been unnecessarily repeated in a very indifferent publication of the Percy Society, vol. xvii. Dr. Wolcot, Burns, and Jamieson have written songs on the story of Fair Annie, and Cunningham has modernized Sir Walter Scott's version, after his fashion, in theSongs of Scotland, i. 298.
Of his text, Jamieson remarks, "it is givenverbatimfrom the large MS. collection, transmitted from Aberdeen, by my zealous and industrious friend, Professor Robert Scott of that university. I have every reason to believe, that no liberty whatever has been taken with the text, which is certainly more uniform thanany copy heretofore published. It was first written down many years ago, with no view towards being committed to the press; and is now given from the copy then taken, with the addition only of stanzas twenty-two and twenty-three, which the editor has inserted from memory."Popular Ballads, i. 36.
"Lochryan is a beautiful, though somewhat wild and secluded bay, which projects from the Irish Channel into Wigtonshire, having the little seaport of Stranraer situated at its bottom. Along its coast, which is in some places high and rocky, there are many ruins of such castles as that described in the ballad."Chambers.