"Hynd Horn fair, and Hynd Horn free,O where were you born, in what countrie?""In gude greenwood, there I was born,And all my forbears me beforn."O seven years I served the king,5And as for wages, I never gat nane;But ae sight o' his ae daughter,And that was thro' an augre bore."My love gae me a siller wand,'Twas to rule ower a' Scotland;10And she gae me a gay gowd ring,The virtue o't was above a' thing.""As lang's this ring it keeps the hue,Ye'll know I am a lover true;But when the ring turns pale and wan,15Ye'll know I love another man."He hoist up sails, and awa' sail'd he,And sail'd into a far countrie;And when he look'd upon his ring,He knew she loved another man.20He hoist up sails and home came he,Home unto his ain countrie;The first he met on his own land,It chanc'd to be a beggar man."What news, what news, my gude auld man?25What news, what news, hae ye to me?""Nae news, nae news," said the auld man,"The morn's our queen's wedding day.""Will ye lend me your begging weed,And I'll lend you my riding steed?"30"My begging weed will ill suit thee,And your riding steed will ill suit me."But part be right, and part be wrang,Frae the beggar man the cloak he wan;"Auld man, come tell to me your leed,35What news ye gie when ye beg your bread.""As ye walk up unto the hill,Your pike staff ye lend ye till;But whan ye come near by the yett,Straight to them ye will upstep.40"Take nane frae Peter, nor frae Paul,Nane frae high or low o' them all;And frae them all ye will take nane,Until it comes frae the bride's ain hand."He took nane frae Peter, nor frae Paul,45Nane frae the high nor low o' them all;And frae them all he would take nane,Until it came frae the bride's ain hand.The bride came tripping down the stair,The combs o' red gowd in her hair;50A cup o' red wine in her hand,And that she gae to the beggar man.Out o' the cup he drank the wine,And into the cup he dropt the ring;"O got ye't by sea, or got ye't by land,55Or got ye't on a drown'd man's hand?""I got it not by sea, nor got it by land,Nor got I it on a drown'd man's hand;But I got it at my wooing gay,And I'll gie't you on your wedding day."60"I'll take the red gowd frae my head,And follow you, and beg my bread;I'll take the red gowd frae my hair,And follow you for evermair."Atween the kitchen and the ha',65He loot his cloutie cloak down fa';And wi' red gowd shone ower them a',And frae the bridegroom the bride he sta'.
"Hynd Horn fair, and Hynd Horn free,O where were you born, in what countrie?""In gude greenwood, there I was born,And all my forbears me beforn.
"O seven years I served the king,5And as for wages, I never gat nane;But ae sight o' his ae daughter,And that was thro' an augre bore.
"My love gae me a siller wand,'Twas to rule ower a' Scotland;10And she gae me a gay gowd ring,The virtue o't was above a' thing."
"As lang's this ring it keeps the hue,Ye'll know I am a lover true;But when the ring turns pale and wan,15Ye'll know I love another man."
He hoist up sails, and awa' sail'd he,And sail'd into a far countrie;And when he look'd upon his ring,He knew she loved another man.20
He hoist up sails and home came he,Home unto his ain countrie;The first he met on his own land,It chanc'd to be a beggar man.
"What news, what news, my gude auld man?25What news, what news, hae ye to me?""Nae news, nae news," said the auld man,"The morn's our queen's wedding day."
"Will ye lend me your begging weed,And I'll lend you my riding steed?"30"My begging weed will ill suit thee,And your riding steed will ill suit me."
But part be right, and part be wrang,Frae the beggar man the cloak he wan;"Auld man, come tell to me your leed,35What news ye gie when ye beg your bread."
"As ye walk up unto the hill,Your pike staff ye lend ye till;But whan ye come near by the yett,Straight to them ye will upstep.40
"Take nane frae Peter, nor frae Paul,Nane frae high or low o' them all;And frae them all ye will take nane,Until it comes frae the bride's ain hand."
He took nane frae Peter, nor frae Paul,45Nane frae the high nor low o' them all;And frae them all he would take nane,Until it came frae the bride's ain hand.
The bride came tripping down the stair,The combs o' red gowd in her hair;50A cup o' red wine in her hand,And that she gae to the beggar man.
Out o' the cup he drank the wine,And into the cup he dropt the ring;"O got ye't by sea, or got ye't by land,55Or got ye't on a drown'd man's hand?"
"I got it not by sea, nor got it by land,Nor got I it on a drown'd man's hand;But I got it at my wooing gay,And I'll gie't you on your wedding day."60
"I'll take the red gowd frae my head,And follow you, and beg my bread;I'll take the red gowd frae my hair,And follow you for evermair."
Atween the kitchen and the ha',65He loot his cloutie cloak down fa';And wi' red gowd shone ower them a',And frae the bridegroom the bride he sta'.
A story similar to this occurs in various forms both in Scotland and the Scandinavian kingdoms. Scott inserted the ballad in his first edition under the title ofThe Laird of Laminton; the present copy is an improved one obtained by him from several recitations. (Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, iii. 122.) Other versions areMotherwell's, printed with this, Maidment's, in hisNorth Countrie Garland, p. 34, (Catharine Jaffery), and Buchan's, in hisGleanings, p. 74, (Loch-in-var.)Sweet William, in Motherwell's collection, (see Appendix,) is still another variety.
Jamieson has translated a Danish ballad which, though not cognate with these, exhibits nearly the same incidents, and we have inserted itin the Appendix.
It need hardly be remarked that the spirited ballad ofLochinvarinMarmionis founded on this ancient legend.
There was a may, and a weel-far'd may,Lived high up in yon glen:Her name was Katharine Janfarie,She was courted by mony men.Up then came Lord Lauderdale,5Up frae the Lawland Border;And he has come to court this may,A' mounted in good order.He told na her father, he told na her mother,And he told na ane o' her kin;10But he whisper'd the bonnie lassie hersell,And has her favour won.But out then cam Lord Lochinvar,Out frae the English Border,All for to court this bonny may,15Weel mounted, and in order.He told her father, he told her mother,And a' the lave o' her kin;But he told na the bonnie may hersell,Till on her wedding e'en.20She sent to the Lord o' Lauderdale,Gin he wad come and see;And he has sent word back again,Weel answer'd she suld be.And he has sent a messenger,25Right quickly through the land,And raised mony an armed manTo be at his command.The bride looked out at a high window,Beheld baith dale and down,30And she was aware of her first true love,With riders mony a one.She scoffed him, and scorned him,Upon her wedding day;And said—it was the fairy court,35To see him in array!"O come ye here to fight, young lord,Or come ye here to play,Or come ye here to drink good wineUpon the wedding day?"40"I come na here to fight," he said,"I come na here to play;I'll but lead a dance wi' the bonny bride,And mount, and go my way."It is a glass of the blood-red wine45Was filled up them between,And aye she drank to Lauderdale,Wha her true love had been.He's ta'en her by the milk-white hand,And by the grass-green sleeve;50He's mounted her hie behind himsell,At her kinsmen speir'd na leave."Now take your bride, Lord Lochinvar,Now take her, if you may!But if you take your bride again,55We'll call it but foul play."There were four-and-twenty bonnie boys,A' clad in the Johnstone grey;They said they would take the bride again,By the strong hand, if they may.60Some o' them were right willing men,But they were na willing a';And four-and-twenty Leader ladsBid them mount and ride awa'.Then whingers flew frae gentles' sides,65And swords flew frae the shea's,And red and rosy was the bloodRan down the lily braes.The blood ran down by Caddon bank,And down by Caddon brae;70And, sighing, said the bonnie bride,"O wae's me for foul play!"My blessing on your heart, sweet thing,Wae to your wilfu' will!There's mony a gallant gentleman75Whae's bluid ye have garr'd to spill.Now a' you lords of fair England,And that dwell by the English Border,Come never here to seek a wife,For fear of sic disorder.80They'll haik ye up, and settle ye bye,Till on your wedding day,Then gie ye frogs instead of fish,And play ye foul foul play.
There was a may, and a weel-far'd may,Lived high up in yon glen:Her name was Katharine Janfarie,She was courted by mony men.
Up then came Lord Lauderdale,5Up frae the Lawland Border;And he has come to court this may,A' mounted in good order.
He told na her father, he told na her mother,And he told na ane o' her kin;10But he whisper'd the bonnie lassie hersell,And has her favour won.
But out then cam Lord Lochinvar,Out frae the English Border,All for to court this bonny may,15Weel mounted, and in order.
He told her father, he told her mother,And a' the lave o' her kin;But he told na the bonnie may hersell,Till on her wedding e'en.20
She sent to the Lord o' Lauderdale,Gin he wad come and see;And he has sent word back again,Weel answer'd she suld be.
And he has sent a messenger,25Right quickly through the land,And raised mony an armed manTo be at his command.
The bride looked out at a high window,Beheld baith dale and down,30And she was aware of her first true love,With riders mony a one.
She scoffed him, and scorned him,Upon her wedding day;And said—it was the fairy court,35To see him in array!
"O come ye here to fight, young lord,Or come ye here to play,Or come ye here to drink good wineUpon the wedding day?"40
"I come na here to fight," he said,"I come na here to play;I'll but lead a dance wi' the bonny bride,And mount, and go my way."
It is a glass of the blood-red wine45Was filled up them between,And aye she drank to Lauderdale,Wha her true love had been.
He's ta'en her by the milk-white hand,And by the grass-green sleeve;50He's mounted her hie behind himsell,At her kinsmen speir'd na leave.
"Now take your bride, Lord Lochinvar,Now take her, if you may!But if you take your bride again,55We'll call it but foul play."
There were four-and-twenty bonnie boys,A' clad in the Johnstone grey;They said they would take the bride again,By the strong hand, if they may.60
Some o' them were right willing men,But they were na willing a';And four-and-twenty Leader ladsBid them mount and ride awa'.
Then whingers flew frae gentles' sides,65And swords flew frae the shea's,And red and rosy was the bloodRan down the lily braes.
The blood ran down by Caddon bank,And down by Caddon brae;70And, sighing, said the bonnie bride,"O wae's me for foul play!"
My blessing on your heart, sweet thing,Wae to your wilfu' will!There's mony a gallant gentleman75Whae's bluid ye have garr'd to spill.
Now a' you lords of fair England,And that dwell by the English Border,Come never here to seek a wife,For fear of sic disorder.80
They'll haik ye up, and settle ye bye,Till on your wedding day,Then gie ye frogs instead of fish,And play ye foul foul play.
Obtained from recitation, in the West of Scotland. Motherwell'sMinstrelsy, p. 225.
There was a lass, as I heard say,Liv'd low doun in a glen;Her name was Catherine Johnstone,Weel known to many men.Doun came the laird o' Lamington,5Doun from the South Countrie;And he is for this bonnie lass,Her bridegroom for to be.He's ask'd her father and mother,The chief of a' her kin;10And then he ask'd the bonnie lass,And did her favour win.Doun came an English gentleman,Doun from the English border;He is for this bonnie lass,15To keep his house in order.He ask'd her father and mother,As I do hear them say;But he never ask'd the lass hersell,Till on her wedding day.20But she has wrote a long letter,And sealed it with her hand;And sent it to Lord Lamington,To let him understand.The first line o' the letter he read,25He was baith glad and fain;But or he read the letter o'er,He was baith pale and wan.Then he has sent a messenger,And out through all his land;30And four-and-twenty armed menWas all at his command.But he has left his merry men all,Left them on the lee;And he's awa to the wedding house,35To see what he could see.But when he came to the wedding house,As I do understand,There were four-and-twenty belted knightsSat at a table round.40They rose all to honour him,For he was of high renown;They rose all for to welcome him,And bade him to sit down.O meikle was the good red wine45In silver cups did flow;But aye she drank to Lamington,For with him would she go.O meikle was the good red wineIn silver cups gaed round;50At length they began to whisper words,None could them understand."O came ye here for sport, young man,Or came ye here for play?Or came ye for our bonnie bride,55On this her wedding day?""I came not here for sport," he said,"Neither did I for play;But for one word o' your bonnie bride,I'll mount and go away."60They set her maids behind her,To hear what they would say;But the first question he ask'd at herWas always answered nay;The next question he ask'd at her65Was, "Mount and come away?"It's up the Couden bank,And doun the Couden brae;And aye she made the trumpet sound,It's a weel won play.70O meikle was the blood was shedUpon the Couden brae;And aye she made the trumpet sound,It's a' fair play.Come, a' ye English gentlemen,75That is of England born,Come na doun to Scotland,For fear ye get the scorn.They'll feed ye up wi' flattering words,And that's foul play;80And they'll dress you frogs instead of fish,Just on your wedding day.
There was a lass, as I heard say,Liv'd low doun in a glen;Her name was Catherine Johnstone,Weel known to many men.
Doun came the laird o' Lamington,5Doun from the South Countrie;And he is for this bonnie lass,Her bridegroom for to be.
He's ask'd her father and mother,The chief of a' her kin;10And then he ask'd the bonnie lass,And did her favour win.
Doun came an English gentleman,Doun from the English border;He is for this bonnie lass,15To keep his house in order.
He ask'd her father and mother,As I do hear them say;But he never ask'd the lass hersell,Till on her wedding day.20
But she has wrote a long letter,And sealed it with her hand;And sent it to Lord Lamington,To let him understand.
The first line o' the letter he read,25He was baith glad and fain;But or he read the letter o'er,He was baith pale and wan.
Then he has sent a messenger,And out through all his land;30And four-and-twenty armed menWas all at his command.
But he has left his merry men all,Left them on the lee;And he's awa to the wedding house,35To see what he could see.
But when he came to the wedding house,As I do understand,There were four-and-twenty belted knightsSat at a table round.40
They rose all to honour him,For he was of high renown;They rose all for to welcome him,And bade him to sit down.
O meikle was the good red wine45In silver cups did flow;But aye she drank to Lamington,For with him would she go.
O meikle was the good red wineIn silver cups gaed round;50At length they began to whisper words,None could them understand.
"O came ye here for sport, young man,Or came ye here for play?Or came ye for our bonnie bride,55On this her wedding day?"
"I came not here for sport," he said,"Neither did I for play;But for one word o' your bonnie bride,I'll mount and go away."60
They set her maids behind her,To hear what they would say;But the first question he ask'd at herWas always answered nay;The next question he ask'd at her65Was, "Mount and come away?"
It's up the Couden bank,And doun the Couden brae;And aye she made the trumpet sound,It's a weel won play.70
O meikle was the blood was shedUpon the Couden brae;And aye she made the trumpet sound,It's a' fair play.
Come, a' ye English gentlemen,75That is of England born,Come na doun to Scotland,For fear ye get the scorn.
They'll feed ye up wi' flattering words,And that's foul play;80And they'll dress you frogs instead of fish,Just on your wedding day.
Jamieson'sPopular Ballads, ii. 135, from Mrs. Brown's recitation.Barbara Livingston, a shorter piece, with a different catastrophe, is givenin the Appendix, from Motherwell's collection.
O bonny Baby LivingstoneGaed out to view the hay;And by it cam him Glenlyon,Staw bonny Baby away.And first he's taen her silken coat,5And neist her satten gown;Syne row'd her in his tartan plaid,And happ'd her round and roun'.He's mounted her upon a steed,And roundly rade away;10And ne'er loot her look back againThe lee-lang simmer day.He's carried her o'er yon hich hich hill,Intill a Highland glen,And there he met his brother John15Wi' twenty armed men.And there were cows, and there were ewes,And there were kids sae fair;But sad and wae was bonny Baby,Her heart was fu' o' care.20He's taen her in his arms twa,And kist her cheek and chin;"I wad gi'e a' my flocks and herds,Ae smile frae thee to win.""A smile frae me ye'se never win;25I'll ne'er look kind on thee;Ye've stown me awa frae a' my kin,Frae a' that's dear to me."Dundee, kind sir, Dundee, kind sir,Tak me to bonny Dundee;30For ye sall ne'er my favour winTill it ance mair I see.""Dundee, Baby! Dundee, Baby!Dundee ye ne'er shall see;But I will carry you to Glenlyon,35Where you my bride shall be."Or will ye stay at Achingour,And eat sweet milk and cheese;Or gang wi' me to Glenlyon,And there we'll live at our ease?"40"I winna stay at Achingour;I care neither for milk nor cheese;Nor gang wi' thee to Glenlyon;For there I'll ne'er find ease."Then out it spak his brother John;45"If I were in your place,I'd send that lady hame again,For a' her bonny face."Commend me to the lass that's kind,Though nae sae gently born;50And, gin her heart I coudna win,To take her hand I'd scorn.""O haud your tongue, my brother John;Ye wisna what ye say;For I hae lued that bonny face55This mony a year and day."I've lued her lang, and lued her weel,But her love I ne'er could win;And what I canna fairly gain,To steal I think nae sin."60Whan they cam to Glenlyon castle,They lighted at the yett;And out they cam, his three sisters,Their brother for to greet.And they have taen her, bonny Baby,65And led her o'er the green;And ilka lady spak a word,But bonny Baby spake nane.Then out it spak her, bonny Jane,The youngest o' the three:70"O lady, why look ye sae sad?Come tell your grief to me.""O wharefore should I tell my grief,Since lax I canna find?I'm far frae a' my kin and friends,75And my love I left behind."But had I paper, pen, and ink,Afore that it were day,I yet might get a letter wrate,And sent to Johnie Hay.80"And gin I had a bonny boy,To help me in my need,That he might rin to bonny Dundee,And come again wi' speed!"And they hae gotten a bonny boy85Their errand for to gang;And bade him run to Bonny Dundee,And nae to tarry lang.The boy he ran o'er muir and dale,As fast as he could flee;90And e'er the sun was twa hours hight,The boy was at Dundee.Whan Johnie lookit the letter on,A hearty laugh leuch he;But ere he read it till an end,95The tear blinded his e'e."O wha is this, or wha is that,Has stown my love frae me?Although he were my ae brither,An ill dead sall he die.100"Gae, saddle to me the black," he says;"Gae, saddle to me the brown;Gae, saddle to me the swiftest steed,That ever rade frae the town."He's call'd upon his merry men a',105To follow him to the glen;And he's vow'd he'd neither eat nor sleepTill he got his love again.He's mounted him on a milk-white steed,And fast he rade away;110And he's come to Glenlyon's yett,About the close o' day.As Baby at her window stood,And the west-wind saft did blaw,She heard her Johnie's well-kent voice115Aneath the castle wa'."O Baby, haste, the window loup;I'll kep you in my arm;My merry men a' are at the yettTo rescue you frae harm."120She to the window fix'd her sheets,And slipped safely down;And Johnie catched her in his arms,Ne'er loot her touch the groun'.Glenlyon and his brother John125Were birling in the ha',When they heard Johnie's bridle ringAs fast he rade awa'."Rise, Jock; gang out and meet the priest;I hear his bridle ring;130My Baby now shall be my wife,Before the laverock sing.""O brother, this is nae the priest;I fear he'll come o'er late;For armed men wi' shining brands135Stand at the castle yett.""Haste, Donald, Duncan, Dugald, Hugh,Haste, tak your sword and spear;We'll gar these traytors rue the hourThat e'er they ventured here."140The Highlandmen drew their claymores,And gae a warlike shout;But Johnie's merry men kept the yett,Nae ane durst venture out.The lovers rade the lee-lang night,145And safe got on their way;And Bonny Baby LivingstoneHas gotten Johny Hay."Awa, Glenlyon! fy for shame!Gae hide you in some den;150You've latten your bride be stown frae you,For a' your armed men."
O bonny Baby LivingstoneGaed out to view the hay;And by it cam him Glenlyon,Staw bonny Baby away.
And first he's taen her silken coat,5And neist her satten gown;Syne row'd her in his tartan plaid,And happ'd her round and roun'.
He's mounted her upon a steed,And roundly rade away;10And ne'er loot her look back againThe lee-lang simmer day.
He's carried her o'er yon hich hich hill,Intill a Highland glen,And there he met his brother John15Wi' twenty armed men.
And there were cows, and there were ewes,And there were kids sae fair;But sad and wae was bonny Baby,Her heart was fu' o' care.20
He's taen her in his arms twa,And kist her cheek and chin;"I wad gi'e a' my flocks and herds,Ae smile frae thee to win."
"A smile frae me ye'se never win;25I'll ne'er look kind on thee;Ye've stown me awa frae a' my kin,Frae a' that's dear to me.
"Dundee, kind sir, Dundee, kind sir,Tak me to bonny Dundee;30For ye sall ne'er my favour winTill it ance mair I see."
"Dundee, Baby! Dundee, Baby!Dundee ye ne'er shall see;But I will carry you to Glenlyon,35Where you my bride shall be.
"Or will ye stay at Achingour,And eat sweet milk and cheese;Or gang wi' me to Glenlyon,And there we'll live at our ease?"40
"I winna stay at Achingour;I care neither for milk nor cheese;Nor gang wi' thee to Glenlyon;For there I'll ne'er find ease."
Then out it spak his brother John;45"If I were in your place,I'd send that lady hame again,For a' her bonny face.
"Commend me to the lass that's kind,Though nae sae gently born;50And, gin her heart I coudna win,To take her hand I'd scorn."
"O haud your tongue, my brother John;Ye wisna what ye say;For I hae lued that bonny face55This mony a year and day.
"I've lued her lang, and lued her weel,But her love I ne'er could win;And what I canna fairly gain,To steal I think nae sin."60
Whan they cam to Glenlyon castle,They lighted at the yett;And out they cam, his three sisters,Their brother for to greet.
And they have taen her, bonny Baby,65And led her o'er the green;And ilka lady spak a word,But bonny Baby spake nane.
Then out it spak her, bonny Jane,The youngest o' the three:70"O lady, why look ye sae sad?Come tell your grief to me."
"O wharefore should I tell my grief,Since lax I canna find?I'm far frae a' my kin and friends,75And my love I left behind.
"But had I paper, pen, and ink,Afore that it were day,I yet might get a letter wrate,And sent to Johnie Hay.80
"And gin I had a bonny boy,To help me in my need,That he might rin to bonny Dundee,And come again wi' speed!"
And they hae gotten a bonny boy85Their errand for to gang;And bade him run to Bonny Dundee,And nae to tarry lang.
The boy he ran o'er muir and dale,As fast as he could flee;90And e'er the sun was twa hours hight,The boy was at Dundee.
Whan Johnie lookit the letter on,A hearty laugh leuch he;But ere he read it till an end,95The tear blinded his e'e.
"O wha is this, or wha is that,Has stown my love frae me?Although he were my ae brither,An ill dead sall he die.100
"Gae, saddle to me the black," he says;"Gae, saddle to me the brown;Gae, saddle to me the swiftest steed,That ever rade frae the town."
He's call'd upon his merry men a',105To follow him to the glen;And he's vow'd he'd neither eat nor sleepTill he got his love again.
He's mounted him on a milk-white steed,And fast he rade away;110And he's come to Glenlyon's yett,About the close o' day.
As Baby at her window stood,And the west-wind saft did blaw,She heard her Johnie's well-kent voice115Aneath the castle wa'.
"O Baby, haste, the window loup;I'll kep you in my arm;My merry men a' are at the yettTo rescue you frae harm."120
She to the window fix'd her sheets,And slipped safely down;And Johnie catched her in his arms,Ne'er loot her touch the groun'.
Glenlyon and his brother John125Were birling in the ha',When they heard Johnie's bridle ringAs fast he rade awa'.
"Rise, Jock; gang out and meet the priest;I hear his bridle ring;130My Baby now shall be my wife,Before the laverock sing."
"O brother, this is nae the priest;I fear he'll come o'er late;For armed men wi' shining brands135Stand at the castle yett."
"Haste, Donald, Duncan, Dugald, Hugh,Haste, tak your sword and spear;We'll gar these traytors rue the hourThat e'er they ventured here."140
The Highlandmen drew their claymores,And gae a warlike shout;But Johnie's merry men kept the yett,Nae ane durst venture out.
The lovers rade the lee-lang night,145And safe got on their way;And Bonny Baby LivingstoneHas gotten Johny Hay.
"Awa, Glenlyon! fy for shame!Gae hide you in some den;150You've latten your bride be stown frae you,For a' your armed men."
Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, iii. 37. For other versions, seeBonny May, Herd'sScottish Songs, i. 159, and Johnson'sMuseum, p. 113;Broom o' the Cowdenknowes, Buchan, i. 172;Laird of Ochiltree, Kinloch, 160;Laird of Lochnie, Kinloch, 167.
O the broom, and the bonny bonny broom,And the broom of the Cowdenknows!And aye sae sweet as the lassie sang,I' the bought, milking the ewes.The hills were high on ilka side,5An' the bought i' the lirk o' the hill,And aye, as she sang, her voice it rang,Out o'er the head o' yon hill.There was a troup o' gentlemenCame riding merrilie by,10And one of them has rode out o' the way,To the bought to the bonny may."Weel may ye save an' see, bonny lass,An' weel may ye save an' see."—"An' sae wi' you, ye weel-bred knight,15And what's your will wi' me?"—"The night is misty and mirk, fair may,And I have ridden astray,And will you be so kind, fair may,As come out and point my way?"—20"Ride out, ride out, ye ramp rider!Your steed's baith stout and strang;For out of the bought I dare na come,For fear 'at ye do me wrang."—"O winna ye pity me, bonny lass,25O winna ye pity me?An' winna ye pity my poor steed,Stands trembling at yon tree?"—"I wadna pity your poor steed,Though it were tied to a thorn;30For if ye wad gain my love the night,Ye wad slight me ere the morn."For I ken you by your weel-busket hat,And your merrie twinkling ee,That ye're the Laird o' the Oakland hills,35An' ye may weel seem for to be."—"But I am not the Laird o' the Oakland hills,Ye're far mista'en o' me;But I'm ane o' the men about his house,An' right aft in his companie."—40He's ta'en her by the middle jimp,And by the grass-green sleeve;He's lifted her over the fauld-dyke,And speer'd at her sma' leave.O he's ta'en out a purse o' gowd,45And streek'd her yellow hair;"Now, take ye that, my bonny may,Of me till you hear mair."—O he's leapt on his berry-brown steed,An' soon he's o'erta'en his men;50And ane and a' cried out to him,"O master, ye've tarry'd lang!"—"O I hae been east, and I hae been west,An' I hae been far o'er the knowes,But the bonniest lass that ever I saw55Is i' the bought, milking the ewes."—She set the cog upon her head,An' she's gane singing hame;"O where hae ye been, my ae daughter?Ye hae na been your lane."—60"O naebody was wi' me, father,O naebody has been wi' me;The night is misty and mirk, father,Yee may gang to the door and see."But wae be to your ewe-herd, father,65And an ill deed may he die;He bug the bought at the back o' the knowe,And a tod has frighted me."There came a tod to the bought door,The like I never saw;70And ere he had ta'en the lamb he did,I had lourd he had ta'en them a'."—O whan fifteen weeks was come and gane,Fifteen weeks and three,That lassie began to look thin and pale,75An' to long for his merry-twinkling ee.It fell on a day, on a het simmer day,She was ca'ing out her father's kye,Bye came a troop o' gentlemen,A' merrilie riding bye.80"Weel may ye save an' see, bonny may,Weel may ye save and see!Weel I wat, ye be a very bonny may,But whae's aught that babe ye are wi'?"—Never a word could that lassie say,85For never a ane could she blame,An' never a word could the lassie say,But "I have a gudeman at hame."—"Ye lied, ye lied, my very bonny may,Sae loud as I hear you lie;90For dinna ye mind that misty nightI was i' the bought wi' thee?"I ken you by your middle sae jimp,An' your merry-twinkling ee,That ye're the bonny lass i' the Cowdenknow,95An' ye may weel seem for to be."—Then he's leapt off his berry-brown steed,An' he's set that fair may on—"Ca' out your kye, gude father, yoursell,For she's never ca' them out again.100"I am the Laird of the Oakland hills,I hae thirty plows and three;An' I hae gotten the bonniest lassThat's in a' the south countrie."
O the broom, and the bonny bonny broom,And the broom of the Cowdenknows!And aye sae sweet as the lassie sang,I' the bought, milking the ewes.
The hills were high on ilka side,5An' the bought i' the lirk o' the hill,And aye, as she sang, her voice it rang,Out o'er the head o' yon hill.
There was a troup o' gentlemenCame riding merrilie by,10And one of them has rode out o' the way,To the bought to the bonny may.
"Weel may ye save an' see, bonny lass,An' weel may ye save an' see."—"An' sae wi' you, ye weel-bred knight,15And what's your will wi' me?"—
"The night is misty and mirk, fair may,And I have ridden astray,And will you be so kind, fair may,As come out and point my way?"—20
"Ride out, ride out, ye ramp rider!Your steed's baith stout and strang;For out of the bought I dare na come,For fear 'at ye do me wrang."—
"O winna ye pity me, bonny lass,25O winna ye pity me?An' winna ye pity my poor steed,Stands trembling at yon tree?"—
"I wadna pity your poor steed,Though it were tied to a thorn;30For if ye wad gain my love the night,Ye wad slight me ere the morn.
"For I ken you by your weel-busket hat,And your merrie twinkling ee,That ye're the Laird o' the Oakland hills,35An' ye may weel seem for to be."—
"But I am not the Laird o' the Oakland hills,Ye're far mista'en o' me;But I'm ane o' the men about his house,An' right aft in his companie."—40
He's ta'en her by the middle jimp,And by the grass-green sleeve;He's lifted her over the fauld-dyke,And speer'd at her sma' leave.
O he's ta'en out a purse o' gowd,45And streek'd her yellow hair;"Now, take ye that, my bonny may,Of me till you hear mair."—
O he's leapt on his berry-brown steed,An' soon he's o'erta'en his men;50And ane and a' cried out to him,"O master, ye've tarry'd lang!"—
"O I hae been east, and I hae been west,An' I hae been far o'er the knowes,But the bonniest lass that ever I saw55Is i' the bought, milking the ewes."—
She set the cog upon her head,An' she's gane singing hame;"O where hae ye been, my ae daughter?Ye hae na been your lane."—60
"O naebody was wi' me, father,O naebody has been wi' me;The night is misty and mirk, father,Yee may gang to the door and see.
"But wae be to your ewe-herd, father,65And an ill deed may he die;He bug the bought at the back o' the knowe,And a tod has frighted me.
"There came a tod to the bought door,The like I never saw;70And ere he had ta'en the lamb he did,I had lourd he had ta'en them a'."—
O whan fifteen weeks was come and gane,Fifteen weeks and three,That lassie began to look thin and pale,75An' to long for his merry-twinkling ee.
It fell on a day, on a het simmer day,She was ca'ing out her father's kye,Bye came a troop o' gentlemen,A' merrilie riding bye.80
"Weel may ye save an' see, bonny may,Weel may ye save and see!Weel I wat, ye be a very bonny may,But whae's aught that babe ye are wi'?"—
Never a word could that lassie say,85For never a ane could she blame,An' never a word could the lassie say,But "I have a gudeman at hame."—
"Ye lied, ye lied, my very bonny may,Sae loud as I hear you lie;90For dinna ye mind that misty nightI was i' the bought wi' thee?
"I ken you by your middle sae jimp,An' your merry-twinkling ee,That ye're the bonny lass i' the Cowdenknow,95An' ye may weel seem for to be."—
Then he's leapt off his berry-brown steed,An' he's set that fair may on—"Ca' out your kye, gude father, yoursell,For she's never ca' them out again.100
"I am the Laird of the Oakland hills,I hae thirty plows and three;An' I hae gotten the bonniest lassThat's in a' the south countrie."
The edition of this ballad here printed was prepared by Motherwell from three copies obtained from recitation, (Minstrelsy, p. 204.) Other versions have been published in Kinloch'sAncient Scottish Ballads, p. 78, Buchan'sBallads of the North of Scotland, i. 248, and hisGleanings, p. 122. The proper names which occur in the course of the piece vary considerably in the different copies. In two of Motherwell's, the hero's designation was Johnie Scot, in a third, Johnie M'Nauchton. In one of Buchan's he is styled Love John, in the other, Lang Johnny Moir. In Kinloch's copy, "Buneftan is his name," and he is also called "Jack that little Scot," which seems to have been the title of the ballad in an unpublished collection quoted by Ritson in hisDissertation on Scottish Song, p. lxxxi. In like manner, for the King of Aulsberry, (v. 111,) we have the various readings, Duke of Marlborough, Duke of Mulberry, Duke of York, and Duke of Winesberrie, and in the following verse, James the Scottish King, for the King of Spain.
The following passage, illustrative of the feat of arms accomplished by Johnie Scot, was pointed out to Motherwell by Mr. Sharpe:—James Macgill, of Lindores, having killed Sir Robert Balfour, of Denmiln, in a duel, "immediately went up to London in order to procure his pardon, which, it seems, the King (Charles the Second) offered to grant him, upon condition of his fighting an Italian gladiator, or bravo, or, as he was called, a bully, which, it is said, none could be found to do. Accordingly, a large stage was erected for the exhibition before the King and court. Sir James, it is said, stood on the defensive till the bully had spent himself a little; being a taller man than Sir James, in his mighty gasconading and bravadoing, he actually leapt over the knight as if he would swallow him alive; but, in attempting to do this a second time, Sir James ran his sword up through him, and then called out, 'I have spitted him, let them roast him who will.' This not only procured his pardon, but he was also knighted on the spot."—Small'sAccount of Roman Antiquities recently discovered in Fife, p. 217.
From Buchan'sLang Johnny Moir,printed in the Appendix, it will be seen that the title of Little Scot is not to be taken literally, but that the doughty champion was a man of huge stature.
O Johnie Scot 's to the hunting gane,Unto the woods sae wild;And Earl Percy's ae daughterTo him goes big wi' child.O word is to the kitchen gane,5And word is to the ha',And word is to the highest towers,Among the nobles a'."If she be wi' child," her father said,"As woe forbid it be!10I'll put her into a prison strang,And try the veritie.""But if she be wi' child," her mother said,"As woe forbid it be!I'll put her intill a dungeon dark,15And hunger her till she die."O Johnie 's called his waiting man,His name was Germanie:"It 's thou must to fair England gae,Bring me that gay ladie.20"And here it is a silken sark,Her ain hand sewed the sleeve;Bid her come to the merry green wood,To Johnie her true love."He rode till he came to Earl Percy's gate,25He tirled at the pin:"O wha is there?" said the proud porter;"But I daurna let thee in."It's he rode up, and he rode down,He rode the castle about,30Until he spied a fair ladieAt a window looking out."Here is a silken sark," he said,"Thy ain hand sewed the sleeve;And ye must gae to the merry green woods,35To Johnie Scot thy love.""The castle it is high, my boy,And walled round about;My feet are in the fetters strong,And how can I get out?40"My garters are o' the gude black iron,And O but they be cold;My breast-plate's o' the sturdy steel,Instead of beaten gold."But had I paper, pen, and ink,45Wi' candle at my command,It's I would write a lang letterTo John in fair Scotland."Then she has written a braid letter,And sealed it wi' her hand,50And sent it to the merry green wood,Wi' her own boy at command.The first line of the letter Johnie read,A loud, loud lauch leuch he;But he had not read ae line but twa,55Till the saut tears did blind his ee."O I must up to England go,Whatever me betide,For to relieve mine own fair ladie,That lay last by my side."60Then up and spak Johnie's auld mither,A weel spoke woman was she:"If you do go to England, Johnie,I may take fareweel o' thee."And out and spak his father then,65And he spak well in time:"If thou unto fair England go,I fear ye'll ne'er come hame."But out and spak his uncle then,And he spak bitterlie:70"Five hundred of my good life-guardsShall bear him companie."When they were all on saddle set,They were comely to behold;The hair that hung owre Johnie's neck shined75Like the links o' yellow gold.When they were all marching away,Most pleasant for to see,There was not so much as a married manIn Johnie's companie.80Johnie Scot himsell was the foremost manIn the company that did ride;His uncle was the second man,Wi' his rapier by his side.The first gude town that Johnie came to,85He made the bells be rung;And when he rode the town all owre,He made the psalms be sung.The next gude town that Johnie came to,He made the drums beat round;90And the third gude town that he came to,He made the trumpets sound,Till King Henry and all his merry menA-marvelled at the sound.And when they came to Earl Percy's yates,95They rode them round about;And who saw he but his own true loveAt a window looking out?"O the doors are bolted with iron and steel,So are the windows about;100And my feet they are in fetters strong;And how can I get out?"My garters they are of the lead,And O but they be cold;My breast-plate's of the hard, hard steel,105Instead of beaten gold."But when they came to Earl Percy's yett,They tirled at the pin;None was so ready as Earl Percy himsellTo open and let them in.110"Art thou the King of Aulsberry,Or art thou the King of Spain?Or art thou one of our gay Scots lords,M'Nachton be thy name?""I'm not the King of Aulsberry,115Nor yet the King of Spain;But am one of our gay Scots lords,Johnie Scot I am called by name."When Johnie came before the king,He fell low down on his knee:120"If Johnie Scot be thy name," he said,"As I trew weel it be,Then the brawest lady in a' my courtGaes big wi' child to thee.""If she be with child," fair Johnie said,125"As I trew weel she be,I'll make it heir owre a' my land,And her my gay ladie.""But if she be wi' child," her father said,"As I trew weel she be,130To-morrow again eight o'clock,High hanged thou shalt be."Out and spoke Johnie's uncle then,And he spak bitterlie:"Before that we see fair Johnie hanged,135We'll a' fight till we die.""But is there ever anItalianabout your court,That will fight duels three?For before that I be hanged," Johnie said,"On theItalian'ssword I'll die."140"Say on, say on," said then the king,"It is weel spoken of thee;For there is anItalianin my courtShall fight you three by three."O some is to the good green wood,145And some is to the plain,The queen with all her ladies fair,The king with his merry men,Either to see fair Johnie flee,Or else to see him slain.150They fought on, and Johnie fought on,Wi' swords o' temper'd steel,Until the draps o' red, red bloodRan trinkling down the field.They fought on, and Johnie fought on,155They fought right manfullie;Till they left not alive, in a' the king's court,A man only but three.And they begoud at eight of the morn,And they fought on till three;160When theItalian, like a swallow swift,Owre Johnie's head did flee:But Johnie being a clever young boy,He wheeled him round about;And on the point of Johnie's broad-sword,165TheItalianhe slew out."A priest, a priest," fair Johnie cried,"To wed my love and me;""A clerk, a clerk," her father cried,"To sum her tocher free."170"I'll hae none of your gold," fair Johnie cried,"Nor none of your other gear;But I will have my own fair bride,For this day I've won her dear."He's ta'en his true love by the hand,175He led her up the plain:"Have you any more of your English dogsYou want for to have slain?"He put a little horn to his mouth,He blew 't baith loud and shill;180And honour is into Scotland gone,In spite of England's skill.He put his little horn to his mouth,He blew it owre again;And aye the sound the horn cryed185Was "Johnie and his men!"
O Johnie Scot 's to the hunting gane,Unto the woods sae wild;And Earl Percy's ae daughterTo him goes big wi' child.
O word is to the kitchen gane,5And word is to the ha',And word is to the highest towers,Among the nobles a'.
"If she be wi' child," her father said,"As woe forbid it be!10I'll put her into a prison strang,And try the veritie."
"But if she be wi' child," her mother said,"As woe forbid it be!I'll put her intill a dungeon dark,15And hunger her till she die."
O Johnie 's called his waiting man,His name was Germanie:"It 's thou must to fair England gae,Bring me that gay ladie.20
"And here it is a silken sark,Her ain hand sewed the sleeve;Bid her come to the merry green wood,To Johnie her true love."
He rode till he came to Earl Percy's gate,25He tirled at the pin:"O wha is there?" said the proud porter;"But I daurna let thee in."
It's he rode up, and he rode down,He rode the castle about,30Until he spied a fair ladieAt a window looking out.
"Here is a silken sark," he said,"Thy ain hand sewed the sleeve;And ye must gae to the merry green woods,35To Johnie Scot thy love."
"The castle it is high, my boy,And walled round about;My feet are in the fetters strong,And how can I get out?40
"My garters are o' the gude black iron,And O but they be cold;My breast-plate's o' the sturdy steel,Instead of beaten gold.
"But had I paper, pen, and ink,45Wi' candle at my command,It's I would write a lang letterTo John in fair Scotland."
Then she has written a braid letter,And sealed it wi' her hand,50And sent it to the merry green wood,Wi' her own boy at command.
The first line of the letter Johnie read,A loud, loud lauch leuch he;But he had not read ae line but twa,55Till the saut tears did blind his ee.
"O I must up to England go,Whatever me betide,For to relieve mine own fair ladie,That lay last by my side."60
Then up and spak Johnie's auld mither,A weel spoke woman was she:"If you do go to England, Johnie,I may take fareweel o' thee."
And out and spak his father then,65And he spak well in time:"If thou unto fair England go,I fear ye'll ne'er come hame."
But out and spak his uncle then,And he spak bitterlie:70"Five hundred of my good life-guardsShall bear him companie."
When they were all on saddle set,They were comely to behold;The hair that hung owre Johnie's neck shined75Like the links o' yellow gold.
When they were all marching away,Most pleasant for to see,There was not so much as a married manIn Johnie's companie.80
Johnie Scot himsell was the foremost manIn the company that did ride;His uncle was the second man,Wi' his rapier by his side.
The first gude town that Johnie came to,85He made the bells be rung;And when he rode the town all owre,He made the psalms be sung.
The next gude town that Johnie came to,He made the drums beat round;90And the third gude town that he came to,He made the trumpets sound,Till King Henry and all his merry menA-marvelled at the sound.
And when they came to Earl Percy's yates,95They rode them round about;And who saw he but his own true loveAt a window looking out?
"O the doors are bolted with iron and steel,So are the windows about;100And my feet they are in fetters strong;And how can I get out?
"My garters they are of the lead,And O but they be cold;My breast-plate's of the hard, hard steel,105Instead of beaten gold."
But when they came to Earl Percy's yett,They tirled at the pin;None was so ready as Earl Percy himsellTo open and let them in.110
"Art thou the King of Aulsberry,Or art thou the King of Spain?Or art thou one of our gay Scots lords,M'Nachton be thy name?"
"I'm not the King of Aulsberry,115Nor yet the King of Spain;But am one of our gay Scots lords,Johnie Scot I am called by name."
When Johnie came before the king,He fell low down on his knee:120"If Johnie Scot be thy name," he said,"As I trew weel it be,Then the brawest lady in a' my courtGaes big wi' child to thee."
"If she be with child," fair Johnie said,125"As I trew weel she be,I'll make it heir owre a' my land,And her my gay ladie."
"But if she be wi' child," her father said,"As I trew weel she be,130To-morrow again eight o'clock,High hanged thou shalt be."
Out and spoke Johnie's uncle then,And he spak bitterlie:"Before that we see fair Johnie hanged,135We'll a' fight till we die."
"But is there ever anItalianabout your court,That will fight duels three?For before that I be hanged," Johnie said,"On theItalian'ssword I'll die."140
"Say on, say on," said then the king,"It is weel spoken of thee;For there is anItalianin my courtShall fight you three by three."
O some is to the good green wood,145And some is to the plain,The queen with all her ladies fair,The king with his merry men,Either to see fair Johnie flee,Or else to see him slain.150
They fought on, and Johnie fought on,Wi' swords o' temper'd steel,Until the draps o' red, red bloodRan trinkling down the field.
They fought on, and Johnie fought on,155They fought right manfullie;Till they left not alive, in a' the king's court,A man only but three.
And they begoud at eight of the morn,And they fought on till three;160When theItalian, like a swallow swift,Owre Johnie's head did flee:
But Johnie being a clever young boy,He wheeled him round about;And on the point of Johnie's broad-sword,165TheItalianhe slew out.
"A priest, a priest," fair Johnie cried,"To wed my love and me;""A clerk, a clerk," her father cried,"To sum her tocher free."170
"I'll hae none of your gold," fair Johnie cried,"Nor none of your other gear;But I will have my own fair bride,For this day I've won her dear."
He's ta'en his true love by the hand,175He led her up the plain:"Have you any more of your English dogsYou want for to have slain?"
He put a little horn to his mouth,He blew 't baith loud and shill;180And honour is into Scotland gone,In spite of England's skill.
He put his little horn to his mouth,He blew it owre again;And aye the sound the horn cryed185Was "Johnie and his men!"