BOTHWELL.

120, Cospatrick,Comes Patricius, was the designation of the Earl of Dunbar, in the days of Wallace and Bruce.—SCOTT.

As Bothwell was walking in the lowlands alane,Hey down, and a down,He met six ladies sae gallant and fine,Hey down, and a down.5He cast his lot amang them a',And on the youngest his lot did fa'.He's brought her frae her mother's bower,Unto his strongest castle and tower.But ay she cry'd and made great moan,10And ay the tear came trickling down."Come up, come up," said the foremost man,"I think our bride comes slowly on.""O lady, sits your saddle awry,Or is your steed for you owre high?"15"My saddle is not set awry,Nor carries me my steed owre high;"But I am weary of my life,Since I maun be Lord Bothwell's wife."He's blawn his horn sae sharp and shrill,20Up start the deer on every hill;He's blawn his horn sae lang and loud,Up start the deer in gude green wood.His lady mother lookit owre the castle wa',And she saw them riding ane and a'.25She's called upon her maids by seven,To mak his bed baith saft and even:She's called upon her cooks by nine,To make their dinner fair and fine.When day was gane and night was come,30"What ails my love on me to frown?"Or does the wind blow in your glove,Or runs your mind on another love?""Nor blows the wind within my glove,Nor runs my mind on another love;"35"But I not maid nor maiden am,For I'm wi' bairn to another man.""I thought I'd a maiden sae meek and sae mild,But I've nought but a woman wi' child."His mother's taen her up to a tower,40And lockit her in her secret bower:"Now doughter mine, come tell to me,Wha's bairn this is that you are wi'.""O mother dear, I canna learnWha is the father of my bairn.45"But as I walk'd in the lowlands my lane,I met a gentleman gallant and fine;"He keepit me there sae late and sae lang,Frae the ev'ning late till the morning dawn;"And a' that he gied me to my propine,50Was a pair of green gloves, and a gay gold ring,"Three lauchters of his yellow hair,In case that we shou'd meet nae mair."His lady mother went down the stair:"Now son, now son, come tell to me,55Where's the green gloves I gave to thee?""I gied to a lady sae fair and so fine,The green gloves and a gay gold ring:"But I wad gie my castles and towers,I had that lady within my bowers:60"But I wad gie my very life,I had that lady to be my wife.""Now keep, now keep your castles and towers,You have that lady within your bowers:"Now keep, now keep your very life,65You have that lady to be your wife.""O row my lady in sattin and silk,And wash my son in the morning milk."

As Bothwell was walking in the lowlands alane,Hey down, and a down,He met six ladies sae gallant and fine,Hey down, and a down.

5He cast his lot amang them a',And on the youngest his lot did fa'.

He's brought her frae her mother's bower,Unto his strongest castle and tower.

But ay she cry'd and made great moan,10And ay the tear came trickling down.

"Come up, come up," said the foremost man,"I think our bride comes slowly on."

"O lady, sits your saddle awry,Or is your steed for you owre high?"

15"My saddle is not set awry,Nor carries me my steed owre high;

"But I am weary of my life,Since I maun be Lord Bothwell's wife."

He's blawn his horn sae sharp and shrill,20Up start the deer on every hill;

He's blawn his horn sae lang and loud,Up start the deer in gude green wood.

His lady mother lookit owre the castle wa',And she saw them riding ane and a'.

25She's called upon her maids by seven,To mak his bed baith saft and even:

She's called upon her cooks by nine,To make their dinner fair and fine.

When day was gane and night was come,30"What ails my love on me to frown?

"Or does the wind blow in your glove,Or runs your mind on another love?"

"Nor blows the wind within my glove,Nor runs my mind on another love;"

35"But I not maid nor maiden am,For I'm wi' bairn to another man."

"I thought I'd a maiden sae meek and sae mild,But I've nought but a woman wi' child."

His mother's taen her up to a tower,40And lockit her in her secret bower:

"Now doughter mine, come tell to me,Wha's bairn this is that you are wi'."

"O mother dear, I canna learnWha is the father of my bairn.

45"But as I walk'd in the lowlands my lane,I met a gentleman gallant and fine;

"He keepit me there sae late and sae lang,Frae the ev'ning late till the morning dawn;

"And a' that he gied me to my propine,50Was a pair of green gloves, and a gay gold ring,

"Three lauchters of his yellow hair,In case that we shou'd meet nae mair."

His lady mother went down the stair:"Now son, now son, come tell to me,55Where's the green gloves I gave to thee?"

"I gied to a lady sae fair and so fine,The green gloves and a gay gold ring:

"But I wad gie my castles and towers,I had that lady within my bowers:

60"But I wad gie my very life,I had that lady to be my wife."

"Now keep, now keep your castles and towers,You have that lady within your bowers:

"Now keep, now keep your very life,65You have that lady to be your wife."

"O row my lady in sattin and silk,And wash my son in the morning milk."

Printed from Mrs. Brown's MS., in theBorder Minstrelsy, vol. iii. p. 170. Another copy is given in Jamieson'sPopular Ballads, (ii. 367,) and versions, enlarged and altered from the ancient, in the same work, (ii. 179,) and inTales of Wonder, No. 56. This ballad bears a striking resemblance toSir Stig and Lady Torelild, translated from the Danish by Jamieson,Illustrations of Northern Antiquities, p. 344. This is the eighth (marked H) of nine Danish ballads given by Grundtvig, under the titleHustru og Mands Moder, vol. ii. 404. Three Swedish versions have been printed: two in Arwidsson'sFornsånger, Liten Kerstins Förtrollning, ii. 252, and another (Grundtvig) in Cavallius and Stephens'sSvenska Folksagor.

"Those who wish to know how an incantation, or charm, of the distressing nature here described, was performed in classic days, may consult the story of Galanthis's Metamorphosis, in Ovid, or the following passage in Apuleius: 'Eadem (saga, scilicet, quædam) amatoris uxorem, quod in eam dicacule probrum dixerat, jam in sarcinam prægnationis, obsepto utero, et repigrato fœtu, perpetua prægnatione damnavit. Et ut cuncti numerant, octo annorum onere, misella illa, velut elephantum paritura, distenditur.' APUL.Metam.lib. i.

"There is a curious tale about a Count of Westeravia, whom a deserted concubine bewitched upon his marriage, so as to preclude all hopes of his becoming a father. The spell continued to operate for three years, till one day, the Count happening to meet withhis former mistress, she maliciously asked him about the increase of his family. The Count, conceiving some suspicion from her manner, craftily answered, that God had blessed him with three fine children; on which she exclaimed, like Willie's mother in the ballad, "May heaven confound the old hag, by whose counsel I threw an enchanted pitcher into the draw-well of your palace!" The spell being found, and destroyed, the Count became the father of a numerous family.Hierarchie of the Blessed Angels, p. 474." SCOTT.

Willie's ta'en him o'er the faem,He's wooed a wife, and brought her hame;He's wooed her for her yellow hair,But his mother wrought her meikle care;5And meikle dolour gar'd her dree,For lighter she can never be;But in her bower she sits wi' pain,And Willie mourns o'er her in vain.And to his mother he has gane,10That vile rank witch, o' vilest kind!He says—"My ladie has a cup,Wi' gowd and silver set about;This gudely gift sall be your ain,And let her be lighter o' her young bairn."—15"Of her young bairn she's never be lighter,Nor in her bour to shine the brighter:But she sall die, and turn to clay,And you sall wed another may."—"Another may I'll never wed,20Another may I'll never bring hame:"—But, sighing, said that weary wight—"I wish my life were at an end!"Yet gae ye to your mother again,That vile rank witch, o' vilest kind!25And say, your ladye has a steed,The like o' him's no in the land o' Leed."For he is silver shod before,And he is gowden shod behind;At every tuft of that horse mane,30There's a golden chess, and a bell to ring.This gudely gift sall be her ain,And let me be lighter o' my young bairn."—"Of her young bairn she's ne'er be lighter,Nor in her bour to shine the brighter;35But she sall die, and turn to clay,And ye sall wed another may."—"Another may I'll never wed,Another may I'll never bring hame:"—But, sighing, said that weary wight—40"I wish my life were at an end!—"Yet gae ye to your mother again,That vile rank witch, o' rankest kind!And say your ladye has a girdle,It's a' red gowd to the middle;45"And aye, at ilka siller hemHang fifty siller bells and ten;This gudely gift sall be her ain,And let me be lighter o' my young bairn."—"Of her young bairn she's ne'er be lighter,50Nor in your bour to shine the brighter;For she sall die, and turn to clay,And thou sall wed another may."—"Another may I'll never wed,Another may I'll never bring hame;"—55But, sighing, said that weary wight—"I wish my days were at an end!"—Then out and spak the Billy Blind, (He spak aye in good time:)"Yet gae ye to the market-place,60And there do buy a loaf of wace;Do shape it bairn and bairnly like,And in it twa glassen een you'll put;"And bid her your boy's christening to,Then notice weel what she shall do;65And do you stand a little away,To notice weel what she may say."He did him to the market-place,And there he bought aloafo' wax;He shaped it bairn and bairnly like,70And in twa glazen een he pat;He did him till his mither then,And bade her to his boy's christnin;And he did stand a little forbye,And noticed well what she did say.75"O wha has loosed the nine witch knots,That were amang that ladye's locks?And wha's ta'en out the kaims o' care,That were amang that ladye's hair?"And wha has ta'en down that bush o' woodbine,80That hung between her bour and mine?And wha has kill'd the master kid, That ran beneath that ladye's bed?And wha has loosed her left foot shee,And let that ladye lighter be?"85Syne, Willy's loosed the nine witch knots,That were amang that ladye's locks;And Willie's ta'en out the kaims o' care,That were into that ladye's hair;And he's ta'en down the bush o' woodbine,90Hung atween her bour and the witch carline;And he has kill'd the master kid,That ran beneath that ladye's bed;And he has loosed her left foot shee,And latten that ladye lighter be;95And now he has gotten a bonny son,And meikle grace be him upon.

Willie's ta'en him o'er the faem,He's wooed a wife, and brought her hame;He's wooed her for her yellow hair,But his mother wrought her meikle care;

5And meikle dolour gar'd her dree,For lighter she can never be;But in her bower she sits wi' pain,And Willie mourns o'er her in vain.

And to his mother he has gane,10That vile rank witch, o' vilest kind!He says—"My ladie has a cup,Wi' gowd and silver set about;This gudely gift sall be your ain,And let her be lighter o' her young bairn."—

15"Of her young bairn she's never be lighter,Nor in her bour to shine the brighter:But she sall die, and turn to clay,And you sall wed another may."—

"Another may I'll never wed,20Another may I'll never bring hame:"—But, sighing, said that weary wight—"I wish my life were at an end!

"Yet gae ye to your mother again,That vile rank witch, o' vilest kind!25And say, your ladye has a steed,The like o' him's no in the land o' Leed.

"For he is silver shod before,And he is gowden shod behind;At every tuft of that horse mane,30There's a golden chess, and a bell to ring.This gudely gift sall be her ain,And let me be lighter o' my young bairn."—

"Of her young bairn she's ne'er be lighter,Nor in her bour to shine the brighter;35But she sall die, and turn to clay,And ye sall wed another may."—

"Another may I'll never wed,Another may I'll never bring hame:"—But, sighing, said that weary wight—40"I wish my life were at an end!—

"Yet gae ye to your mother again,That vile rank witch, o' rankest kind!And say your ladye has a girdle,It's a' red gowd to the middle;

45"And aye, at ilka siller hemHang fifty siller bells and ten;This gudely gift sall be her ain,And let me be lighter o' my young bairn."—

"Of her young bairn she's ne'er be lighter,50Nor in your bour to shine the brighter;For she sall die, and turn to clay,And thou sall wed another may."—

"Another may I'll never wed,Another may I'll never bring hame;"—55But, sighing, said that weary wight—"I wish my days were at an end!"—

Then out and spak the Billy Blind, (He spak aye in good time:)"Yet gae ye to the market-place,60And there do buy a loaf of wace;Do shape it bairn and bairnly like,And in it twa glassen een you'll put;

"And bid her your boy's christening to,Then notice weel what she shall do;65And do you stand a little away,To notice weel what she may say."

He did him to the market-place,And there he bought aloafo' wax;He shaped it bairn and bairnly like,70And in twa glazen een he pat;

He did him till his mither then,And bade her to his boy's christnin;And he did stand a little forbye,And noticed well what she did say.

75"O wha has loosed the nine witch knots,That were amang that ladye's locks?And wha's ta'en out the kaims o' care,That were amang that ladye's hair?

"And wha has ta'en down that bush o' woodbine,80That hung between her bour and mine?And wha has kill'd the master kid, That ran beneath that ladye's bed?And wha has loosed her left foot shee,And let that ladye lighter be?"

85Syne, Willy's loosed the nine witch knots,That were amang that ladye's locks;And Willie's ta'en out the kaims o' care,That were into that ladye's hair;

And he's ta'en down the bush o' woodbine,90Hung atween her bour and the witch carline;And he has kill'd the master kid,That ran beneath that ladye's bed;

And he has loosed her left foot shee,And latten that ladye lighter be;95And now he has gotten a bonny son,And meikle grace be him upon.

57.Billy Blind—A familiar genius, or propitious spirit, somewhat similar to theBrownie.

67-74. Inserted from Jamieson's copy.

68,leaf, Jamieson.

81. The witch's chief familiar, placed in the chamber of the sick woman in the form of a kid.

The beginning is to be compared withLindormen, the whole ballad withJomfruen i Ormeham, Grundtvig'sFolkeviser, ii. 213, 177.

O Alison Gross, that lives in yon tower,The ugliest witch in the north countrie,Has trysted me ae day up till her bower,And mony fair speech she made to me.5She straiked my head, and she kembed my hair,And she set me down saftly on her knee,Says,—"Gin ye will be my lemman sae true,Sae mony braw things as I would you gi'e."She shaw'd me a mantle o' red scarlet,10Wi' gouden flowers and fringes fine,Says "Gin ye will be my lemman sae true,This goodly gift it sall be thine.""Awa, awa, ye ugly witch,Haud far awa, and lat me be;15I never will be your lemman sae true,And I wish I were out of your company."She neist brocht a sark o' the saftest silk,Weel wrought wi' pearls about the band;Says,—"Gin ye will be my ain true love,20This goodly gift ye sall command."She shaw'd me a cup o' the good red goud,Weel set wi' jewels sae fair to see;Says,—"Gin ye will be my lemman sae true,This goodly gift I will you gie."25"Awa, awa, ye ugly witch!Haud far awa, and lat me be;For I wadna ance kiss your ugly mouthFor a' the gifts that ye cou'd gie."She's turned her richt and round about,30And thrice she blew on a grass-green horn;And she sware by the moon and the stars aboon,That she'd gar me rue the day I was born.Then out has she ta'en a silver wand,And she's turned her three times round and round;35She's mutter'd sic words, that my strength it fail'd,And I fell down senseless on the ground.She's turn'd me into an ugly worm,And gar'd me toddle about the tree;And ay, on ilka Saturday's night,40My sister Maisry came to me,Wi' silver bason, and silver kemb,To kemb my headie upon her knee;But or I had kiss'd her ugly mouth,I'd rather hae toddled about the tree.45But as it fell out on last Hallowe'en,When theSeely Courtwas ridin' by,The queen lighted down on a gowan bank,Nae far frae the tree whare I wont to lye.She took me up in her milk-white hand,50And she straiked me three times o'er her knee;She changed me again to my ain proper shape,And I nae mair maun toddle about the tree.

O Alison Gross, that lives in yon tower,The ugliest witch in the north countrie,Has trysted me ae day up till her bower,And mony fair speech she made to me.

5She straiked my head, and she kembed my hair,And she set me down saftly on her knee,Says,—"Gin ye will be my lemman sae true,Sae mony braw things as I would you gi'e."

She shaw'd me a mantle o' red scarlet,10Wi' gouden flowers and fringes fine,Says "Gin ye will be my lemman sae true,This goodly gift it sall be thine."

"Awa, awa, ye ugly witch,Haud far awa, and lat me be;15I never will be your lemman sae true,And I wish I were out of your company."

She neist brocht a sark o' the saftest silk,Weel wrought wi' pearls about the band;Says,—"Gin ye will be my ain true love,20This goodly gift ye sall command."

She shaw'd me a cup o' the good red goud,Weel set wi' jewels sae fair to see;Says,—"Gin ye will be my lemman sae true,This goodly gift I will you gie."

25"Awa, awa, ye ugly witch!Haud far awa, and lat me be;For I wadna ance kiss your ugly mouthFor a' the gifts that ye cou'd gie."

She's turned her richt and round about,30And thrice she blew on a grass-green horn;And she sware by the moon and the stars aboon,That she'd gar me rue the day I was born.

Then out has she ta'en a silver wand,And she's turned her three times round and round;35She's mutter'd sic words, that my strength it fail'd,And I fell down senseless on the ground.

She's turn'd me into an ugly worm,And gar'd me toddle about the tree;And ay, on ilka Saturday's night,40My sister Maisry came to me,

Wi' silver bason, and silver kemb,To kemb my headie upon her knee;But or I had kiss'd her ugly mouth,I'd rather hae toddled about the tree.

45But as it fell out on last Hallowe'en,When theSeely Courtwas ridin' by,The queen lighted down on a gowan bank,Nae far frae the tree whare I wont to lye.

She took me up in her milk-white hand,50And she straiked me three times o'er her knee;She changed me again to my ain proper shape,And I nae mair maun toddle about the tree.

46.Seely Court, i.e. "pleasant or happy court," or "court of the pleasant and happy people." This agrees with the ancient and more legitimate idea of Fairies. JAMIESON. Seep. 120, v. 131,et seq.

It is much to be regretted that this piece has not come down to us in a purer and more ancient form. Similar ballads are found in Danish, Swedish, and Faroish. Several forms of the Danish are given by Grundtvig (Ridderen i Fugleham, No. 68), who also cites many popular tales which have the same basis, e.g. the Countess d'Aulnoy's fairy story ofThe Blue Bird.

It was intill a pleasant time,Upon a simmer's day;The noble Earl of Mar's daughterWent forth to sport and play.5As thus she did amuse hersell,Below a green aik tree,There she saw a sprightly dooSet on a tower sae hie."O Cow-me-doo, my love sae true,10If ye'll come down to me,Ye'se hae a cage o' guid red gowdInstead o' simple tree:"I'll put gowd hingers roun' your cage,And siller roun' your wa';15I'll gar ye shine as fair a birdAs ony o' them a'."But she had nae these words well spoke,Nor yet these words well said,Till Cow-me-doo flew frae the tower,20And lighted on her head.Then she has brought this pretty birdHame to her bowers and ha';And made him shine as fair a birdAs ony o' them a'.25When day was gane, and night was come,About the evening tide,This lady spied a sprightly youthStand straight up by her side."From whence came ye, young man?" she said,30"That does surprise me sair;My door was bolted right secure;What way ha'e ye come here?""O had your tongue, ye lady fair,Lat a' your folly be;35Mind ye not on your turtle dooLast day ye brought wi' thee?""O tell me mair, young man," she said,"This does surprise me now;What country ha'e ye come frae?40What pedigree are you?""My mither lives on foreign isles,She has nae mair but me;She is a queen o' wealth and state,And birth and high degree;45"Likewise well skill'd in magic spells,As ye may plainly see;And she transform'd me to yon shape,To charm such maids as thee."I am a doo the live lang day,50A sprightly youth at night;This aye gars me appear mair fairIn a fair maiden's sight."And it was but this verra dayThat I came ower the sea;55Your lovely face did me enchant,—I'll live and dee wi' thee.""O Cow-me-doo, my luve sae true,Nae mair frae me ye'se gae.""That's never my intent, my luve,60As ye said, it shall be sae.""O Cow-me-doo, my luve sae true,It's time to gae to bed.""Wi' a' my heart, my dear marrow,It's be as ye ha'e said."65Then he has staid in bower wi' herFor sax lang years and ane,Till sax young sons to him she bare,And the seventh she's brought hame.But aye as ever a child was born,70He carried them away,And brought them to his mither's care,As fast as he cou'd fly.Thus he has staid in bower wi' herFor twenty years and three;75There came a lord o' high renownTo court this fair ladie.But still his proffer she refused,And a' his presents too;Says, "I'm content to live alane80Wi' my bird, Cow-me-doo."Her father sware a solemn oathAmang the nobles all,"The morn, or ere I eat or drink,This bird I will gar kill."85The bird was sitting in his cage,And heard what they did say;And when he found they were dismist,Says, "Waes me for this day!"Before that I do langer stay,90And thus to be forlorn,I'll gang unto my mither's bower,Where I was bred and born."Then Cow-me-doo took flight and flewBeyond the raging sea;95And lighted near his mither's castleOn a tower o' gowd sae hie.As his mither was wauking out,To see what she coud see,And there she saw her little son100Set on the tower sae hie."Get dancer here to dance," she said,"And minstrells for to play;For here's my young son, Florentine,Come here wi' me to stay."105"Get nae dancers to dance, mither,Nor minstrells for to play;For the mither o' my seven sons,The morn's her wedding-day.""O tell me, tell me, Florentine,110Tell me, and tell me true,Tell me this day without a flaw,What I will do for you.""Instead of dancers to dance, mither,Or minstrells for to play,115Turn four-and-twenty wall-wight men,Like storks, in feathers gray;"My seven sons in seven swans,Aboon their heads to flee;And I, mysell, a gay gos-hawk,120A bird o' high degree."Then sichin' said the queen hersell,"That thing's too high for me;"But she applied to an auld woman,Who had mair skill than she.125Instead o' dancers to dance a dance,Or minstrells for to play,Four-and-twenty wall-wight menTurn'd birds o' feathers gray;Her seven sons in seven swans,130Aboon their heads to flee;And he, himsell, a gay gos-hawk,A bird o' high degree.This flock o' birds took flight and flewBeyond the raging sea;135And landed near the Earl Mar's castle,Took shelter in every tree.They were a flock o' pretty birds,Right comely to be seen;The people view'd them wi' surprise,140As they danc'd on the green.These birds ascended frae the tree,And lighted on the ha';And at the last wi' force did fleeAmong the nobles a'.145The storks there seized some o' the men,They cou'd neither fight nor flee;The swans they bound the bride's best man,Below a green aik tree.They lighted next on maidens fair,150Then on the bride's own head;And wi' the twinkling o' an e'e,The bride and them were fled.There's ancient men at weddings been,For sixty years or more;155But sic a curious wedding-dayThey never saw before.For naething cou'd the companie do,Nor naething cou'd they say;But they saw a flock o' pretty birds160That took their bride away.When that Earl Mar he came to knowWhere his dochter did stay,He sign'd a bond o' unity,And visits now they pay.

It was intill a pleasant time,Upon a simmer's day;The noble Earl of Mar's daughterWent forth to sport and play.

5As thus she did amuse hersell,Below a green aik tree,There she saw a sprightly dooSet on a tower sae hie.

"O Cow-me-doo, my love sae true,10If ye'll come down to me,Ye'se hae a cage o' guid red gowdInstead o' simple tree:

"I'll put gowd hingers roun' your cage,And siller roun' your wa';15I'll gar ye shine as fair a birdAs ony o' them a'."

But she had nae these words well spoke,Nor yet these words well said,Till Cow-me-doo flew frae the tower,20And lighted on her head.

Then she has brought this pretty birdHame to her bowers and ha';And made him shine as fair a birdAs ony o' them a'.

25When day was gane, and night was come,About the evening tide,This lady spied a sprightly youthStand straight up by her side.

"From whence came ye, young man?" she said,30"That does surprise me sair;My door was bolted right secure;What way ha'e ye come here?"

"O had your tongue, ye lady fair,Lat a' your folly be;35Mind ye not on your turtle dooLast day ye brought wi' thee?"

"O tell me mair, young man," she said,"This does surprise me now;What country ha'e ye come frae?40What pedigree are you?"

"My mither lives on foreign isles,She has nae mair but me;She is a queen o' wealth and state,And birth and high degree;

45"Likewise well skill'd in magic spells,As ye may plainly see;And she transform'd me to yon shape,To charm such maids as thee.

"I am a doo the live lang day,50A sprightly youth at night;This aye gars me appear mair fairIn a fair maiden's sight.

"And it was but this verra dayThat I came ower the sea;55Your lovely face did me enchant,—I'll live and dee wi' thee."

"O Cow-me-doo, my luve sae true,Nae mair frae me ye'se gae.""That's never my intent, my luve,60As ye said, it shall be sae."

"O Cow-me-doo, my luve sae true,It's time to gae to bed.""Wi' a' my heart, my dear marrow,It's be as ye ha'e said."

65Then he has staid in bower wi' herFor sax lang years and ane,Till sax young sons to him she bare,And the seventh she's brought hame.

But aye as ever a child was born,70He carried them away,And brought them to his mither's care,As fast as he cou'd fly.

Thus he has staid in bower wi' herFor twenty years and three;75There came a lord o' high renownTo court this fair ladie.

But still his proffer she refused,And a' his presents too;Says, "I'm content to live alane80Wi' my bird, Cow-me-doo."

Her father sware a solemn oathAmang the nobles all,"The morn, or ere I eat or drink,This bird I will gar kill."

85The bird was sitting in his cage,And heard what they did say;And when he found they were dismist,Says, "Waes me for this day!

"Before that I do langer stay,90And thus to be forlorn,I'll gang unto my mither's bower,Where I was bred and born."

Then Cow-me-doo took flight and flewBeyond the raging sea;95And lighted near his mither's castleOn a tower o' gowd sae hie.

As his mither was wauking out,To see what she coud see,And there she saw her little son100Set on the tower sae hie.

"Get dancer here to dance," she said,"And minstrells for to play;For here's my young son, Florentine,Come here wi' me to stay."

105"Get nae dancers to dance, mither,Nor minstrells for to play;For the mither o' my seven sons,The morn's her wedding-day."

"O tell me, tell me, Florentine,110Tell me, and tell me true,Tell me this day without a flaw,What I will do for you."

"Instead of dancers to dance, mither,Or minstrells for to play,115Turn four-and-twenty wall-wight men,Like storks, in feathers gray;

"My seven sons in seven swans,Aboon their heads to flee;And I, mysell, a gay gos-hawk,120A bird o' high degree."

Then sichin' said the queen hersell,"That thing's too high for me;"But she applied to an auld woman,Who had mair skill than she.

125Instead o' dancers to dance a dance,Or minstrells for to play,Four-and-twenty wall-wight menTurn'd birds o' feathers gray;

Her seven sons in seven swans,130Aboon their heads to flee;And he, himsell, a gay gos-hawk,A bird o' high degree.

This flock o' birds took flight and flewBeyond the raging sea;135And landed near the Earl Mar's castle,Took shelter in every tree.

They were a flock o' pretty birds,Right comely to be seen;The people view'd them wi' surprise,140As they danc'd on the green.

These birds ascended frae the tree,And lighted on the ha';And at the last wi' force did fleeAmong the nobles a'.

145The storks there seized some o' the men,They cou'd neither fight nor flee;The swans they bound the bride's best man,Below a green aik tree.

They lighted next on maidens fair,150Then on the bride's own head;And wi' the twinkling o' an e'e,The bride and them were fled.

There's ancient men at weddings been,For sixty years or more;155But sic a curious wedding-dayThey never saw before.

For naething cou'd the companie do,Nor naething cou'd they say;But they saw a flock o' pretty birds160That took their bride away.

When that Earl Mar he came to knowWhere his dochter did stay,He sign'd a bond o' unity,And visits now they pay.

Mr. Kinloch printed a fragment of this ballad under the title ofHynde Etin. (SeeAppendix.) The story was afterwards given complete by Buchan, (Ballads of the North of Scotland, i. 6,) as here follows. Buchan had previously communicated to Motherwell a modernized version of the same tale, in which the Etin is changed to a Groom. (Seepost.)

This ancient ballad has suffered severely in the course of its transmission to our times. Still there can be no doubt that it was originally the same asThe Maid and the Dwarf King, which is still sung in Denmark, Norway, Sweden, and the Faroe Islands. Numerous copies of the Scandinavian ballad have been given to the world: seven Danish versions, more or less complete, four Norse, nine Swedish, one Faroish, and some other fragments (Grundtvig, ii. 37, and note, p. 655). One of the Swedish ballads (Bergkonungen, Afzelius, No. 35) is translated in Keightley'sFairy Mythology, 103, under the title ofProud Margaret. Closely related isAgnete og Havmanden, Grundtvig, ii. 48, 656, which is found in several forms in German (e.g.Die schöne Hannelein Hoffmann von Fallersleben'sSchlesische Volkslieder, No. 1), and two in Slavic.

Lady Margaret sits in her bower door,Sewing at her silken seam;She heard a note in Elmond's-wood,And wish'd she there had been.5She loot the seam fa' frae her side,And the needle to her tae;And she is on to Elmond-woodAs fast as she coud gae.She hadna pu'd a nut, a nut,10Nor broken a branch but ane,Till by it came a young hind chiel,Says, "Lady, lat alane."O why pu' ye the nut, the nut,Or why brake ye the tree?15For I am forester o' this wood:Ye shou'd spier leave at me.""I'll ask leave at no living man,Nor yet will I at thee;My father is king o'er a' this realm,20This wood belongs to me."She hadna pu'd a nut, a nut,Nor broken a branch but three,Till by it came him Young Akin,And gar'd her lat them be.25The highest tree in Elmond's-wood,He's pu'd it by the reet;And he has built for her a bowerNear by a hallow seat.He's built a bower, made it secure30Wi' carbuncle and stane;Tho' travellers were never sae nigh,Appearance it had nane.He's kept her there in Elmond's-wood,For six lang years and one;35Till six pretty sons to him she bear,And the seventh she's brought home.It fell ance upon a day,This guid lord went from home;And he is to the hunting gane,40Took wi' him his eldest son.And when they were on a guid way,Wi' slowly pace did walk,The boy's heart being something wae,He thus began to talk:—45"A question I wou'd ask, father,Gin ye wou'dna angry be?""Say on, say on, my bonny boy,Ye'se nae be quarrell'd by me.""I see my mither's cheeks aye weet,50I never can see them dry;And I wonder what aileth my mither,To mourn continually.""Your mither was a king's daughter,Sprung frae a high degree;55And she might hae wed some worthy prince,Had she nae been stown by me."I was her father's cup-bearer,Just at that fatal time;I catch'd her on a misty night,60Whan summer was in prime."My luve to her was most sincere,Her luve was great for me;But when she hardships doth endure,Her folly she does see."65"I'll shoot the buntin' o' the bush,The linnet o' the tree,And bring them to my dear mither,See if she'll merrier be."It fell upo' another day,70This guid lord he thought lang,And he is to the hunting gane,Took wi' him his dog and gun.Wi' bow and arrow by his side,He's aff, single, alane;75And left his seven children to stayWi' their mither at hame."O, I will tell to you, mither,Gin ye wadna angry be:""Speak on, speak on, my little wee boy,80Ye'se nae be quarrell'd by me.""As we came frae the hynd hunting,We heard fine music ring:""My blessings on you, my bonny boy,I wish I'd been there my lane."85He's ta'en his mither by the hand,His six brithers also,And they are on thro' Elmond's-wood,As fast as they coud go.They wistna weel where they were gaen,90Wi' the stratlins o' their feet;They wistna weel where they were gaen,Till at her father's yate."I hae nae money in my pocket,But royal rings hae three;95I'll gie them you, my little young son,And ye'll walk there for me."Ye'll gi'e the first to theproud porter,And he will lat you in;Ye'll gi'e the next to the butler boy,100And he will show you ben;"Ye'll gi'e the third to the minstrelThat plays before the king;He'll play success to the bonny boyCame thro' the wood him lane."105He ga'e the first to the proud porter,And he open'd an' let him in;He ga'e the next to the butler boy,And he has shown him ben;He ga'e the third to the minstrel110That play'd before the king;And he play'd success to the bonny boyCame thro' the wood him lane.Now when he came before the king,Fell low down on his knee:115The king he turned round about,And the saut tear blinded his ee."Win up, win up, my bonny boy,Gang frae my companie;Ye look sae like my dear daughter,120My heart will birst in three.""If I look like your dear daughter,A wonder it is none;If I look like your dear daughter,I am her eldest son."125"Will ye tell me, ye little wee boy,Where may my Margaret be?""She's just now standing at your yates,And my six brithers her wi'.""O where are all my porter boys130That I pay meat and fee,To open my yates baith wide and braid?Let her come in to me."When she came in before the king,Fell low down on her knee:135"Win up, win up, my daughter dear,This day ye'll dine wi me.""Ae bit I canno' eat, father,Nor ae drop can I drink,Till I see my mither and sister dear,140For lang for them I think."When she came before the queen,Fell low down on her knee:"Win up, win up, my daughter dear,This day ye'se dine wi' me."145"Ae bit I canno' eat, mither,Nor ae drop can I drink,Until I see my dear sister,For lang for her I think.""When that these two sisters met,150She hail'd her courteouslie:"Come ben, come ben, my sister dear,This day ye'se dine wi' me.""Ae bit I canno' eat, sister,Nor ae drop can I drink,155Until I see my dear husband,For lang for him I think.""O where are all my rangers boldThat I pay meat and fee,To search the forest far an' wide,160And bring Akin to me?"Out it speaks the wee little boy,—"Na, na, this maunna be;Without ye grant a free pardon,I hope ye'll nae him see."165"O here I grant a free pardon,Well seal'd by my own han';Ye may make search for young Akin,As soon as ever you can."They search'd the country wide and braid,170The forests far and near,And found him into Elmond's-wood,Tearing his yellow hair."Win up, win up, now young Akin.Win up, and boun wi' me;175We're messengers come from the court;The king wants you to see.""O lat him take frae me my head,Or hang me on a tree;For since I've lost my dear lady,180Life's no pleasure to me.""Your head will nae be touch'd, Akin,Nor hang'd upon a tree:Your lady's in her father's court,And all he wants is thee."185When he came in before the king,Fell low down on his knee:"Win up, win up now, young Akin,This day ye'se dine wi' me."But as they were at dinner set,190The boy asked a boun;"I wish we were in the good church,For to get christendoun."We ha'e lived in guid green woodThis seven years and ane;195But a' this time since e'er I mind,Was never a church within.""Your asking 's nae sae great, my boy,But granted it shall be;This day to guid church ye shall gang,200And your mither shall gang you wi'."When unto the guid church she came,She at the door did stan';She was sae sair sunk down wi' shame,She coudna come farer ben.205Then out it speaks the parish priest,And a sweet smile gae he;—-"Come ben, come ben, my lily flower,Present your babes to me."Charles, Vincent, Sam, and Dick,210And likewise James and John;They call'd the eldest Young Akin,Which was his father's name.Then they staid in the royal court,And liv'd wi' mirth and glee;215And when her father was deceas'd,Heir of the crown was she.

Lady Margaret sits in her bower door,Sewing at her silken seam;She heard a note in Elmond's-wood,And wish'd she there had been.

5She loot the seam fa' frae her side,And the needle to her tae;And she is on to Elmond-woodAs fast as she coud gae.

She hadna pu'd a nut, a nut,10Nor broken a branch but ane,Till by it came a young hind chiel,Says, "Lady, lat alane.

"O why pu' ye the nut, the nut,Or why brake ye the tree?15For I am forester o' this wood:Ye shou'd spier leave at me."

"I'll ask leave at no living man,Nor yet will I at thee;My father is king o'er a' this realm,20This wood belongs to me."

She hadna pu'd a nut, a nut,Nor broken a branch but three,Till by it came him Young Akin,And gar'd her lat them be.

25The highest tree in Elmond's-wood,He's pu'd it by the reet;And he has built for her a bowerNear by a hallow seat.

He's built a bower, made it secure30Wi' carbuncle and stane;Tho' travellers were never sae nigh,Appearance it had nane.

He's kept her there in Elmond's-wood,For six lang years and one;35Till six pretty sons to him she bear,And the seventh she's brought home.

It fell ance upon a day,This guid lord went from home;And he is to the hunting gane,40Took wi' him his eldest son.

And when they were on a guid way,Wi' slowly pace did walk,The boy's heart being something wae,He thus began to talk:—

45"A question I wou'd ask, father,Gin ye wou'dna angry be?""Say on, say on, my bonny boy,Ye'se nae be quarrell'd by me."

"I see my mither's cheeks aye weet,50I never can see them dry;And I wonder what aileth my mither,To mourn continually."

"Your mither was a king's daughter,Sprung frae a high degree;55And she might hae wed some worthy prince,Had she nae been stown by me.

"I was her father's cup-bearer,Just at that fatal time;I catch'd her on a misty night,60Whan summer was in prime.

"My luve to her was most sincere,Her luve was great for me;But when she hardships doth endure,Her folly she does see."

65"I'll shoot the buntin' o' the bush,The linnet o' the tree,And bring them to my dear mither,See if she'll merrier be."

It fell upo' another day,70This guid lord he thought lang,And he is to the hunting gane,Took wi' him his dog and gun.

Wi' bow and arrow by his side,He's aff, single, alane;75And left his seven children to stayWi' their mither at hame.

"O, I will tell to you, mither,Gin ye wadna angry be:""Speak on, speak on, my little wee boy,80Ye'se nae be quarrell'd by me."

"As we came frae the hynd hunting,We heard fine music ring:""My blessings on you, my bonny boy,I wish I'd been there my lane."

85He's ta'en his mither by the hand,His six brithers also,And they are on thro' Elmond's-wood,As fast as they coud go.

They wistna weel where they were gaen,90Wi' the stratlins o' their feet;They wistna weel where they were gaen,Till at her father's yate.

"I hae nae money in my pocket,But royal rings hae three;95I'll gie them you, my little young son,And ye'll walk there for me.

"Ye'll gi'e the first to theproud porter,And he will lat you in;Ye'll gi'e the next to the butler boy,100And he will show you ben;

"Ye'll gi'e the third to the minstrelThat plays before the king;He'll play success to the bonny boyCame thro' the wood him lane."

105He ga'e the first to the proud porter,And he open'd an' let him in;He ga'e the next to the butler boy,And he has shown him ben;

He ga'e the third to the minstrel110That play'd before the king;And he play'd success to the bonny boyCame thro' the wood him lane.

Now when he came before the king,Fell low down on his knee:115The king he turned round about,And the saut tear blinded his ee.

"Win up, win up, my bonny boy,Gang frae my companie;Ye look sae like my dear daughter,120My heart will birst in three."

"If I look like your dear daughter,A wonder it is none;If I look like your dear daughter,I am her eldest son."

125"Will ye tell me, ye little wee boy,Where may my Margaret be?""She's just now standing at your yates,And my six brithers her wi'."

"O where are all my porter boys130That I pay meat and fee,To open my yates baith wide and braid?Let her come in to me."

When she came in before the king,Fell low down on her knee:135"Win up, win up, my daughter dear,This day ye'll dine wi me."

"Ae bit I canno' eat, father,Nor ae drop can I drink,Till I see my mither and sister dear,140For lang for them I think."

When she came before the queen,Fell low down on her knee:"Win up, win up, my daughter dear,This day ye'se dine wi' me."

145"Ae bit I canno' eat, mither,Nor ae drop can I drink,Until I see my dear sister,For lang for her I think."

"When that these two sisters met,150She hail'd her courteouslie:"Come ben, come ben, my sister dear,This day ye'se dine wi' me."

"Ae bit I canno' eat, sister,Nor ae drop can I drink,155Until I see my dear husband,For lang for him I think."

"O where are all my rangers boldThat I pay meat and fee,To search the forest far an' wide,160And bring Akin to me?"

Out it speaks the wee little boy,—"Na, na, this maunna be;Without ye grant a free pardon,I hope ye'll nae him see."

165"O here I grant a free pardon,Well seal'd by my own han';Ye may make search for young Akin,As soon as ever you can."

They search'd the country wide and braid,170The forests far and near,And found him into Elmond's-wood,Tearing his yellow hair.

"Win up, win up, now young Akin.Win up, and boun wi' me;175We're messengers come from the court;The king wants you to see."

"O lat him take frae me my head,Or hang me on a tree;For since I've lost my dear lady,180Life's no pleasure to me."

"Your head will nae be touch'd, Akin,Nor hang'd upon a tree:Your lady's in her father's court,And all he wants is thee."

185When he came in before the king,Fell low down on his knee:"Win up, win up now, young Akin,This day ye'se dine wi' me."

But as they were at dinner set,190The boy asked a boun;"I wish we were in the good church,For to get christendoun.

"We ha'e lived in guid green woodThis seven years and ane;195But a' this time since e'er I mind,Was never a church within."

"Your asking 's nae sae great, my boy,But granted it shall be;This day to guid church ye shall gang,200And your mither shall gang you wi'."

When unto the guid church she came,She at the door did stan';She was sae sair sunk down wi' shame,She coudna come farer ben.

205Then out it speaks the parish priest,And a sweet smile gae he;—-"Come ben, come ben, my lily flower,Present your babes to me."

Charles, Vincent, Sam, and Dick,210And likewise James and John;They call'd the eldest Young Akin,Which was his father's name.

Then they staid in the royal court,And liv'd wi' mirth and glee;215And when her father was deceas'd,Heir of the crown was she.

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