THE WEE WEE MAN.

130. SeeThomas of Ersseldoune, (p.107,) v. 225, 226.

V. 157-168, v. 208-214. The same process of disenchantment is found in the Danish balladNattergalen, st. 20-22, Grundtvig, No. 57 (alsoSvenska Folk-visor, No. 41). The comparison with the transformations of Proteus is curious.

ἀμφὶ δὲ χεῖραςβάλλομεν· οὐδ' ὁ γέρων δολίης ἐπελήθετο τέχνης·ἀλλ' ἤτοι πρώτιστα λέων γένετ' ἠϋγένειος,αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα δράκων καὶ πόρδαλις ἠδὲ μέγας σῦς·γίγνετο δ' ὑγρὸν ὕδωρ καὶ δένδρεον ὑψιπέτηλον.ἡμεῖς δ' ἀστεμφέως ἔχομεν τετληότι θυμῷ.

Odyssey, iv. 454-59.

Verum ubi correptum manibus vinclisque tenebis,Tum variæ eludent species atque ora ferarum:Fiet enim subito sus horridus atraque tigris,Squamosusque draco, et fulva cervice leæna,Aut acrem flammæ sonitum dabit, atque ita vinclisExcidet, aut in aquas tenues dilapsus abibit.Sed quanto ille magis formas se vertet in omnes,Tanto, nate, magis contende tenacia vincla.

Georgics, iv. 405-12.

This ballad will be found, in forms slightly varying, in Herd, (i. 156;) Caw'sPoetical Museum, (p. 348;) Motherwell'sMinstrelsy, (p. 343;) and Buchan'sAncient Ballads, (i. 263.) It bears some resemblance to the beginning of the remarkable poem,Als Y Yod on ay Mounday, (seeAppendix). The present version is from thePoetical Museum.

As I was walking by my lane,Atween a water and a wa,There sune I spied a wee wee man,He was the least that eir I saw.5His legs were scant a shathmont's length,And sma and limber was his thie;Atween his shoulders was ae span,About his middle war but three.He has tane up a meikle stane,10And flang't as far as I cold see;Ein thouch I had been Wallace wicht,I dought na lift it to my knie."O wee wee man, but ye be strang!Tell me whar may thy dwelling be?"15"I dwell beneth that bonnie bouir,O will ye gae wi me and see?"On we lap, and awa we rade,Till we cam to a bonny green;We lichted syne to bait our steid,20And out there cam a lady sheen;Wi four and twentie at her back,A' comely cled in glistering green;Thouch there the King of Scots had stude,The warst micht weil hae been his queen.25On syne we past wi wondering cheir,Till we cam to a bonny ha;The roof was o the beaten gowd,The flure was o the crystal a.When we cam there, wi wee wee knichts30War ladies dancing, jimp and sma;But in the twinkling of an eie,Baith green and ha war clein awa.

As I was walking by my lane,Atween a water and a wa,There sune I spied a wee wee man,He was the least that eir I saw.

5His legs were scant a shathmont's length,And sma and limber was his thie;Atween his shoulders was ae span,About his middle war but three.

He has tane up a meikle stane,10And flang't as far as I cold see;Ein thouch I had been Wallace wicht,I dought na lift it to my knie.

"O wee wee man, but ye be strang!Tell me whar may thy dwelling be?"15"I dwell beneth that bonnie bouir,O will ye gae wi me and see?"

On we lap, and awa we rade,Till we cam to a bonny green;We lichted syne to bait our steid,20And out there cam a lady sheen;

Wi four and twentie at her back,A' comely cled in glistering green;Thouch there the King of Scots had stude,The warst micht weil hae been his queen.

25On syne we past wi wondering cheir,Till we cam to a bonny ha;The roof was o the beaten gowd,The flure was o the crystal a.

When we cam there, wi wee wee knichts30War ladies dancing, jimp and sma;But in the twinkling of an eie,Baith green and ha war clein awa.

7. Much better in Motherwell.Between his een there was a spanBetwixt his shoulders there were ells three

29-32.There were pipers playing in every neuk,And ladies dancing, jimp and sma';And aye the owreturn o' their tuneWas, "Our wee wee man has been lang awa!"—Motherwell.

Reprinted fromA Collection of Curious Old Ballads and Miscellaneous Poetry, Edinburgh. David Webster, 1824.

Other versions are given in Motherwell'sMinstrelsy, (see theAppendixto this volume;) Kinloch'sAncient Scottish Ballads, (p.145;) Buchan'sAncient Ballads, (ii. 296.)

Similar collections of impossibilities inThe Trooper and Fair Maid, Buchan, i. 230;Robin's Tesment, id., i. 273, or Aytoun, 2d ed. ii. 197;As I was walking under a grove, Pills to purge Melancholy, v. 370. See alsopost, vol. ii. 224, 352, vol. iv. 132, 287; and in German,Von eitel unmöglichen Dingen, Erk'sLiederhort, p. 334-37; Uhland,Eitle Dinge, No. 4, A, B;Wunderhorn, ii. 410.

The Elfin knight sits on yon hill,Ba, ba, ba, lillie ba.He blaws his horn baith loud and shrill.The wind hath blawn my plaid awa.He blaws it east, he blaws it west,He blaws it where he liketh best.5"I wish that horn were in my kist,Yea, and the knight in my arms niest."She had no sooner these words said,Than the knight came to her bed."Thou art o'er young a maid," quoth he,10"Married with me, that thou would'st be.""I have a sister, younger than I,And she was married yesterday.""Married with me if thou would'st be,A curtisie thou must do to me.15"It's ye maun mak a sark to me,Without any cut or seam," quoth he;"And ye maun shape it, knife-, sheerless,And also sew it needle-, threedless.""If that piece of courtisie I do to thee,20Another thou must do to me."I have an aiker of good ley land,Which lyeth low by yon sea strand;"It's ye maun till't wi' your touting horn,And ye maun saw't wi' the pepper corn;25"And ye maun harrow't wi' a thorn,And hae your wark done ere the morn;"And ye maun shear it wi' your knife,And no lose a stack o't for your life;"And ye maun stack it in a mouse hole,30And ye maun thrash it in your shoe sole;"And ye maun dight it in your loof,And also sack it in your glove;"Andye maunbring it over the sea,Fair, and clean, and dry to me;35"And when that ye have done your wark,Come back to me, and ye'll get your sark.""I'll not quite my plaid for my life;It haps my seven bairnes and my wife.""My maidenhead I'll then keep still,40Let the Elfin knight do what he will."My plaid awa, my plaid away,And owre the hills and far awa,And far awa to Norowa',My plaid shall not be blawn awa."

The Elfin knight sits on yon hill,Ba, ba, ba, lillie ba.He blaws his horn baith loud and shrill.The wind hath blawn my plaid awa.

He blaws it east, he blaws it west,He blaws it where he liketh best.

5"I wish that horn were in my kist,Yea, and the knight in my arms niest."

She had no sooner these words said,Than the knight came to her bed.

"Thou art o'er young a maid," quoth he,10"Married with me, that thou would'st be."

"I have a sister, younger than I,And she was married yesterday."

"Married with me if thou would'st be,A curtisie thou must do to me.

15"It's ye maun mak a sark to me,Without any cut or seam," quoth he;

"And ye maun shape it, knife-, sheerless,And also sew it needle-, threedless."

"If that piece of courtisie I do to thee,20Another thou must do to me.

"I have an aiker of good ley land,Which lyeth low by yon sea strand;

"It's ye maun till't wi' your touting horn,And ye maun saw't wi' the pepper corn;

25"And ye maun harrow't wi' a thorn,And hae your wark done ere the morn;

"And ye maun shear it wi' your knife,And no lose a stack o't for your life;

"And ye maun stack it in a mouse hole,30And ye maun thrash it in your shoe sole;

"And ye maun dight it in your loof,And also sack it in your glove;

"Andye maunbring it over the sea,Fair, and clean, and dry to me;

35"And when that ye have done your wark,Come back to me, and ye'll get your sark."

"I'll not quite my plaid for my life;It haps my seven bairnes and my wife."

"My maidenhead I'll then keep still,40Let the Elfin knight do what he will.

"My plaid awa, my plaid away,And owre the hills and far awa,And far awa to Norowa',My plaid shall not be blawn awa."

33, thou must.

A fragment of this ballad was printed in Herd's Collection, ("I'll wager, I'll wager," i. 226.) The present version is from theBorder Minstrelsy, (iii. 28,) and we have added another from Kinloch'sAncient Scottish Ballads. A somewhat longer copy is given in Buchan'sBallads, (ii. 291,) and a modernized English one, of no value, (The West Country Wager,) inAncient Poems, &c., Percy Society, vol. xvii. p. 116.

Brume, brume on hil, is mentioned in theComplaynt of Scotland, and formed part of Captain Cox's well-known collection.

A Danish ballad exhibits the same theme, though differently treated:Sövnerunerne, Grundtvig, No. 81.

There was a knight and a lady bright,Had a true tryst at the broom;The ane ga'ed early in the morning,The other in the afternoon.5And aye she sat in her mother's bower door,And aye she made her mane,"O whether should I gang to the Broomfield hill,Or should I stay at hame?"For if I gang to the Broomfield hill,10My maidenhead is gone;And if I chance to stay at hame,My love will ca' me mansworn."—Up then spake a witch woman,Aye from the room aboon;15"O, ye may gang to Broomfield hill,And yet come maiden hame."For when ye come to the Broomfield hill,Ye'll find your love asleep,With a silver belt about his head,20And a broom-cow at his feet."Take ye the blossom of the broom,The blossom it smells sweet,And strew it at your true love's head,And likewise at his feet.25"Take ye the rings off your fingers,Put them on his right hand,To let him know, when he doth awake,His love was at his command."—She pu'd the broom flower on Hive-hill,30And strew'd on's white hals bane,And that was to be wittering true,That maiden she had gane."O where were ye, my milk-white steed,That I hae coft sae dear,35That wadna watch and waken me,When there was maiden here?"—"I stamped wi' my foot, master,And gar'd my bridle ring;But nae kin' thing wald waken ye,40Till she was past and gane."—"And wae betide ye, my gay goss hawk,That I did love sae dear,That wadna watch and waken me,When there was maiden here."—45"I clapped wi' my wings, master,And aye my bells I rang,And aye cry'd, Waken, waken, master,Before the ladye gang."—"But haste and haste, my gude white steed,50To come the maiden till,Or a' the birds of gude green woodOf your flesh shall have their fill."—"Ye needna burst your gude white steed,Wi' racing o'er the howm;55Nae bird flies faster through the wood,Than she fled through the broom."

There was a knight and a lady bright,Had a true tryst at the broom;The ane ga'ed early in the morning,The other in the afternoon.

5And aye she sat in her mother's bower door,And aye she made her mane,"O whether should I gang to the Broomfield hill,Or should I stay at hame?

"For if I gang to the Broomfield hill,10My maidenhead is gone;And if I chance to stay at hame,My love will ca' me mansworn."—

Up then spake a witch woman,Aye from the room aboon;15"O, ye may gang to Broomfield hill,And yet come maiden hame.

"For when ye come to the Broomfield hill,Ye'll find your love asleep,With a silver belt about his head,20And a broom-cow at his feet.

"Take ye the blossom of the broom,The blossom it smells sweet,And strew it at your true love's head,And likewise at his feet.

25"Take ye the rings off your fingers,Put them on his right hand,To let him know, when he doth awake,His love was at his command."—

She pu'd the broom flower on Hive-hill,30And strew'd on's white hals bane,And that was to be wittering true,That maiden she had gane.

"O where were ye, my milk-white steed,That I hae coft sae dear,35That wadna watch and waken me,When there was maiden here?"—

"I stamped wi' my foot, master,And gar'd my bridle ring;But nae kin' thing wald waken ye,40Till she was past and gane."—

"And wae betide ye, my gay goss hawk,That I did love sae dear,That wadna watch and waken me,When there was maiden here."—

45"I clapped wi' my wings, master,And aye my bells I rang,And aye cry'd, Waken, waken, master,Before the ladye gang."—

"But haste and haste, my gude white steed,50To come the maiden till,Or a' the birds of gude green woodOf your flesh shall have their fill."—

"Ye needna burst your gude white steed,Wi' racing o'er the howm;55Nae bird flies faster through the wood,Than she fled through the broom."

"I'll wager, I'll wager," says Lord John,"A hundred merks and ten,That ye winna gae to the bonnie broom-fields,And a maid return again."—5"But I'll lay a wager wi' you, Lord John,A' your merks oure again,That I'll gae alane to the bonnie broom-fields,And a maid return again."Then Lord John mounted his grey steed,10And his hound wi' his bells sae bricht,And swiftly he rade to the bonny broom-fields,Wi' his hawks, like a lord or knicht."Now rest, now rest, my bonnie grey steed,My lady will soon be here;15And I'll lay my head aneath this rose sae red,And the bonnie burn sae near."But sound, sound, was the sleep he took,For he slept till it was noon;And his lady cam at day, left a taiken and away,20Gaed as licht as a glint o' the moon.She strawed the roses on the ground,Threw her mantle on the brier,And the belt around her middle sae jimp,As a taiken that she'd been there.25The rustling leaves flew round his head,And rous'd him frae his dream;He saw by the roses, and mantle sae green,That his love had been there and was gane."O whare was ye, my gude grey steed,30That I coft ye sae dear;That ye didna waken your master,Whan ye ken'd that his love was here."—"I pautit wi' my foot, master,Garr'd a' my bridles ring;35And still I cried, Waken, gude master,For now is the hour and time."—"Then whare was ye, my bonnie grey hound,That I coft ye sae dear,That ye didna waken your master,40Whan ye kend that his love was here."—"I pautit wi' my foot, master,Garr'd a' my bells to ring;And still I cried, Waken, gude master,For now is the hour and time."—45"But whare was ye, my hawks, my hawks,That I coft ye sae dear,That ye didna waken your master,Whan ye ken'd that his love was here."—"O wyte na me, now, my master dear,50I garr'd a' my young hawks sing,And still I cried, Waken, gude master,For now is the hour and time."—"Then be it sae, my wager gane!'T will skaith frae meikle ill;55For gif I had found her in bonnie broom-fields,O' her heart's blude ye'd drunken your fill."

"I'll wager, I'll wager," says Lord John,"A hundred merks and ten,That ye winna gae to the bonnie broom-fields,And a maid return again."—

5"But I'll lay a wager wi' you, Lord John,A' your merks oure again,That I'll gae alane to the bonnie broom-fields,And a maid return again."

Then Lord John mounted his grey steed,10And his hound wi' his bells sae bricht,And swiftly he rade to the bonny broom-fields,Wi' his hawks, like a lord or knicht.

"Now rest, now rest, my bonnie grey steed,My lady will soon be here;15And I'll lay my head aneath this rose sae red,And the bonnie burn sae near."

But sound, sound, was the sleep he took,For he slept till it was noon;And his lady cam at day, left a taiken and away,20Gaed as licht as a glint o' the moon.

She strawed the roses on the ground,Threw her mantle on the brier,And the belt around her middle sae jimp,As a taiken that she'd been there.

25The rustling leaves flew round his head,And rous'd him frae his dream;He saw by the roses, and mantle sae green,That his love had been there and was gane.

"O whare was ye, my gude grey steed,30That I coft ye sae dear;That ye didna waken your master,Whan ye ken'd that his love was here."—

"I pautit wi' my foot, master,Garr'd a' my bridles ring;35And still I cried, Waken, gude master,For now is the hour and time."—

"Then whare was ye, my bonnie grey hound,That I coft ye sae dear,That ye didna waken your master,40Whan ye kend that his love was here."—

"I pautit wi' my foot, master,Garr'd a' my bells to ring;And still I cried, Waken, gude master,For now is the hour and time."—

45"But whare was ye, my hawks, my hawks,That I coft ye sae dear,That ye didna waken your master,Whan ye ken'd that his love was here."—

"O wyte na me, now, my master dear,50I garr'd a' my young hawks sing,And still I cried, Waken, gude master,For now is the hour and time."—

"Then be it sae, my wager gane!'T will skaith frae meikle ill;55For gif I had found her in bonnie broom-fields,O' her heart's blude ye'd drunken your fill."

The stanzas below are from an American version of this ballad calledThe Green Broomfield, printed in a cheap song-book. (Graham'sIllustrated Magazine, Sept. 1858.)

"Then when she went to the green broom field,Where her love was fast asleep,With a graygoose-hawk and a green laurel bough,And a green broom under his feet."And when he awoke from out his sleep,An angry man was he;He looked to the East, and he looked to the West,And he wept for his sweetheart to see."Oh! where was you, my graygoose-hawk,The hawk that I loved so dear,That you did not awake me from out my sleep,When my sweetheart was so near!"

"Then when she went to the green broom field,Where her love was fast asleep,With a graygoose-hawk and a green laurel bough,And a green broom under his feet.

"And when he awoke from out his sleep,An angry man was he;He looked to the East, and he looked to the West,And he wept for his sweetheart to see.

"Oh! where was you, my graygoose-hawk,The hawk that I loved so dear,That you did not awake me from out my sleep,When my sweetheart was so near!"

This ballad was first printed in theBorder Minstrelsy, (vol. iii. p. 230,) "chiefly from Mrs. Brown's MS. with corrections from a recited fragment." Motherwell furnishes a different version, from recitation, (Minstrelsy, p. 374,) which is subjoined to the present, and the well-known ditty of theLaidley Worm of Spindleston-Heugh, upon the same theme, will be found in the Appendix to this volume.

"Such transformations as the song narrates," remarks Sir Walter Scott, "are common in the annals of chivalry. In the 25th and 26th cantos of the second book of theOrlando Inamorato, the Paladin, Brandimarte, after surmounting many obstacles, penetrates into the recesses of an enchanted palace. Here he finds a fair damsel, seated upon a tomb, who announces to him, that, in order to achieve her deliverance, he must raise the lid of the sepulchre, and kiss whatever being should issue forth. The knight, having pledged his faith, proceeds to open the tomb, out of which a monstrous snake issues forth, with a tremendous hiss. Brandimarte, with much reluctance, fulfils thebizarreconditions of the adventure; and the monster is instantly changed into a beautiful Fairy, who loads her deliverer with benefits."

Jomfruen i Ormeham, in Grundtvig'sDanmarks Gamle Folkeviser, ii. 177, is essentially the same ballad asKempion. The characteristic incident of the story (a maiden who has been transformed by her step-mother into a snake or other monster, being restored to her proper shape by the kiss of a knight) is as common in the popular fiction of the North as Scott asserts it to be in chivalrous romance. For instances, see Grundtvig, l.l., and under the closely relatedLindormen, ii. 211.

The nameKempionis itself a monument of the relation of our ballads to theKæmpeviser. Pollard of Pollard Hall, who slew "a venomous serpent which did much harm to man and beast," is called in the modern legend aChampionKnight.

"Cum heir, cum heir, ye freely feed,And lay your head low on my knee;The heaviest weird I will you read,That ever was read to gay ladye.5"O meikle dolour sall ye dree,And aye the salt seas o'er ye'se swim;And far mair dolour sall ye dreeOnEstmere crags, when ye them climb."I weird ye to a fiery beast,10And relieved sall ye never be,Till Kempion, the kingis son,Cum to the crag, and thrice kiss thee."—O meikle dolour did she dree,And aye the salt seas o'er she swam;15And far mair dolour did she dreeOn Estmere crag, when she them clamb.And aye she cried for Kempion,Gin he would but come to her hand:Now word has gane to Kempion,20That sicken a beast was in his land."Now, by my sooth," said Kempion,"This fiery beast I'll gang and see."—"And by my sooth," said Segramour,"My ae brother, I'll gang wi' thee."25Then bigged hae they a bonny boat,And they hae set her to the sea;But a mile before they reach'd the shore,Around them she gar'd the red fire flee."O Segramour, keep the boat afloat,30And let her na the land o'er near;For this wicked beast will sure gae mad,And set fire to a' the land and mair."—Syne has he bent an arblast bow,And aim'd an arrow at her head;35And swore if she didna quit the land,Wi' that same shaft to shoot her dead."O out of my stythe I winna rise,(And it is not for the awe o' thee,)Till Kempion, the kingis son,40Cum to the crag, and thrice kiss me."—He has louted him o'er the dizzy crag,And gien the monster kisses ane;Awa she gaed, and again she cam.The fieryest beast that ever was seen.45"O out o' my stythe I winna rise,(And not for a' thy bow nor thee,)Till Kempion, the kingis son,Cum to the crag, and thrice kiss me."—He's louted him o'er the Estmere crags,50And he has gi'en her kisses twa:Awa she gaed, and again she cam,The fieryest beast that ever you saw."O out of my den I winna rise,Nor flee it for the fear o' thee,55Till Kempion, that courteous knight,Cum to the crag, and thrice kiss me."—He's louted him o'er the lofty crag,And he has gi'en her kisses three:Awa she gaed, and again she cam,60The loveliest ladye e'er could be!"And by my sooth," says Kempion,"My ain true love, (for this is she,)They surely had a heart o' stane,Could put thee to such misery.65"O was it warwolf in the wood?Or was it mermaid in the sea?Or was it man or vile woman,My ain true love, that mis-shaped thee?"—"It wasna warwolf in the wood,70Nor was it mermaid in the sea:But it was my wicked step-mother,And wae and weary may she be!"—"O, a heavier weird shall light her on,Than ever fell on vile woman;75Her hair shall grow rough, and her teeth grow lang,And on her four feet shall she gang."None shall take pity her upon;In Wormeswood she aye shall won;And relieved shall she never be,80Till St. Mungo come over the sea."—And sighing said that weary wight,"I doubt that day I'll never see!"

"Cum heir, cum heir, ye freely feed,And lay your head low on my knee;The heaviest weird I will you read,That ever was read to gay ladye.

5"O meikle dolour sall ye dree,And aye the salt seas o'er ye'se swim;And far mair dolour sall ye dreeOnEstmere crags, when ye them climb.

"I weird ye to a fiery beast,10And relieved sall ye never be,Till Kempion, the kingis son,Cum to the crag, and thrice kiss thee."—

O meikle dolour did she dree,And aye the salt seas o'er she swam;15And far mair dolour did she dreeOn Estmere crag, when she them clamb.

And aye she cried for Kempion,Gin he would but come to her hand:Now word has gane to Kempion,20That sicken a beast was in his land.

"Now, by my sooth," said Kempion,"This fiery beast I'll gang and see."—"And by my sooth," said Segramour,"My ae brother, I'll gang wi' thee."

25Then bigged hae they a bonny boat,And they hae set her to the sea;But a mile before they reach'd the shore,Around them she gar'd the red fire flee.

"O Segramour, keep the boat afloat,30And let her na the land o'er near;For this wicked beast will sure gae mad,And set fire to a' the land and mair."—

Syne has he bent an arblast bow,And aim'd an arrow at her head;35And swore if she didna quit the land,Wi' that same shaft to shoot her dead.

"O out of my stythe I winna rise,(And it is not for the awe o' thee,)Till Kempion, the kingis son,40Cum to the crag, and thrice kiss me."—

He has louted him o'er the dizzy crag,And gien the monster kisses ane;Awa she gaed, and again she cam.The fieryest beast that ever was seen.

45"O out o' my stythe I winna rise,(And not for a' thy bow nor thee,)Till Kempion, the kingis son,Cum to the crag, and thrice kiss me."—

He's louted him o'er the Estmere crags,50And he has gi'en her kisses twa:Awa she gaed, and again she cam,The fieryest beast that ever you saw.

"O out of my den I winna rise,Nor flee it for the fear o' thee,55Till Kempion, that courteous knight,Cum to the crag, and thrice kiss me."—

He's louted him o'er the lofty crag,And he has gi'en her kisses three:Awa she gaed, and again she cam,60The loveliest ladye e'er could be!

"And by my sooth," says Kempion,"My ain true love, (for this is she,)They surely had a heart o' stane,Could put thee to such misery.

65"O was it warwolf in the wood?Or was it mermaid in the sea?Or was it man or vile woman,My ain true love, that mis-shaped thee?"—

"It wasna warwolf in the wood,70Nor was it mermaid in the sea:But it was my wicked step-mother,And wae and weary may she be!"—

"O, a heavier weird shall light her on,Than ever fell on vile woman;75Her hair shall grow rough, and her teeth grow lang,And on her four feet shall she gang."None shall take pity her upon;In Wormeswood she aye shall won;And relieved shall she never be,80Till St. Mungo come over the sea."—And sighing said that weary wight,"I doubt that day I'll never see!"

8. If by Estmere Crags we are to understand the rocky cliffs of Northumberland, in opposition to Westmoreland, we may bring our scene of action near Bamborough, and thereby almost identify the tale ofKempionwith that of theLaidley Worm of Spindleston, to which it bears so strong a resemblance.—SCOTT. But why should we seek to do this?

Kemp Owyne, says Motherwell, "was, no doubt, the same Ewein or Owain, ap Urien the king of Reged, who is celebrated by the bards, Taliessin and Llywarch-Hen, as well as in the Welsh historical Triads. In a poem of Gruffyd Llwyd, A.D. 1400, addressed to Owain Glyndwr, is the following allusion to this warrior. 'Thou hast travelled by land and by sea in the conduct of thine affairs, like Owain ap Urien in days of yore, when with activity he encountered the black knight of the water.'[3]His mistress had a ring esteemed one of the thirteen rarities of Britain, which, (like the wondrous ring of Gyges) would render the wearer invisible."Minstrelsy, p. lxxxiii.

[3]"On sea, on land, thou still didst braveThe dangerous cliff and rapid wave;LikeUrien, who subdued the knight,And the fell dragon put to flight,Yon moss-grown fount beside;The grim, black warrior of the flood,The dragon, gorged with human blood,The waters' scaly pride."Jones'sWelsh Bards, i. 41.

The copy of Kemp Owyne printed in Buchan'sAncient Ballads, (ii. 78,) is the same as the following.

Her mother died when she was young,Which gave her cause to make great moan;Her father married the warst womanThat ever lived in Christendom.5She served her with foot and hand,In every thing that she could dee;Till once, in an unlucky time,She threw her in ower Craigy's sea.Says, "Lie you there, dove Isabel,10And all my sorrows lie with thee;Till Kemp Owyne come ower the sea,And borrow you with kisses three,Let all the warld do what they will,Oh borrowed shall you never be."15Her breath grew strang, her hair grew lang,And twisted thrice about the tree,And all the people, far and near,Thought that a savage beast was she;This news did come to Kemp Owyne,20Where he lived far beyond the sea.He hasted him to Craigy's sea,And on the savage beast look'd he;Her breath was strang, her hair was lang,And twisted was about the tree,25And with a swing she came about:"Come to Craigy's sea, and kiss with me."Here is a royal belt," she cried,"That I have found in the green sea;And while your body it is on,30Drawn shall your blood never be;But if you touch me, tail or fin,I vow my belt your death shall be."He stepped in, gave her a kiss,The royal belt he brought him wi';35Her breath was strang, her hair was lang,And twisted twice about the tree,And with a swing she came about:"Come to Craigy's sea, and kiss with me."Here is a royal ring," she said,40"That I have found in the green sea;And while your finger it is on,Drawn shall your blood never be;But if you touch me, tail or fin,I swear my ring your death shall be."45He stepped in, gave her a kiss,The royal ring he brought him wi';Her breath was strang, her hair was lang,And twisted ance around the tree,And with a swing she came about:50"Come to Craigy's sea, and kiss with me."Here is a royal brand," she said,"That I have found in the green sea;And while your body it is on,Drawn shall your blood never be;55But if you touch me, tail or fin,I swear my brand your death shall be."He stepped in, gave her a kiss,The royal brand he brought him wi';Her breath was sweet, her hair grew short,60And twisted nane about the tree;0And smilingly she came about,As fair a woman as fair could be.

Her mother died when she was young,Which gave her cause to make great moan;Her father married the warst womanThat ever lived in Christendom.

5She served her with foot and hand,In every thing that she could dee;Till once, in an unlucky time,She threw her in ower Craigy's sea.

Says, "Lie you there, dove Isabel,10And all my sorrows lie with thee;Till Kemp Owyne come ower the sea,And borrow you with kisses three,Let all the warld do what they will,Oh borrowed shall you never be."

15Her breath grew strang, her hair grew lang,And twisted thrice about the tree,And all the people, far and near,Thought that a savage beast was she;This news did come to Kemp Owyne,20Where he lived far beyond the sea.

He hasted him to Craigy's sea,And on the savage beast look'd he;Her breath was strang, her hair was lang,And twisted was about the tree,25And with a swing she came about:"Come to Craigy's sea, and kiss with me.

"Here is a royal belt," she cried,"That I have found in the green sea;And while your body it is on,30Drawn shall your blood never be;But if you touch me, tail or fin,I vow my belt your death shall be."

He stepped in, gave her a kiss,The royal belt he brought him wi';35Her breath was strang, her hair was lang,And twisted twice about the tree,And with a swing she came about:"Come to Craigy's sea, and kiss with me.

"Here is a royal ring," she said,40"That I have found in the green sea;And while your finger it is on,Drawn shall your blood never be;But if you touch me, tail or fin,I swear my ring your death shall be."

45He stepped in, gave her a kiss,The royal ring he brought him wi';Her breath was strang, her hair was lang,And twisted ance around the tree,And with a swing she came about:50"Come to Craigy's sea, and kiss with me.

"Here is a royal brand," she said,"That I have found in the green sea;And while your body it is on,Drawn shall your blood never be;55But if you touch me, tail or fin,I swear my brand your death shall be."

He stepped in, gave her a kiss,The royal brand he brought him wi';Her breath was sweet, her hair grew short,60And twisted nane about the tree;0And smilingly she came about,As fair a woman as fair could be.

A modernized copy of King Henry was published in theTales of Wonder, (No 57,) under the title ofCourteous King Jamie. It first appeared in an ancient dress in theBorder Minstrelsy, (iii. 274,} but a version preferable in some respects was given by Jamieson in hisPopular Ballads, (ii. 194,) which is here printed, without the editor's interpolations. For a notice of similar legends, see theMarriage of Sir Gawaine, atpage 28of this volume.

Lat never a man a wooing wend,That lacketh thingis three;A routh o' gould, an open heart,Ay fu' o' charity.5As this I speak of King Henry,For he lay burd-alane;And he's doen him to a jelly hunt's ha',Was far frae ony town.He chas'd the deer now him before,10And the roe down by the den,Till the fattest buck in a' the flockKing Henry he has slain.O he has doen him to his ha',To mak him bierly cheer;15And in it cam a grisly ghost,Staed stappin' i' the fleer.Her head hat the roof-tree o' the house,Her middle ye mat weel span;—He's thrown to her his gay mantle;20Says,—"Ladie, hap your lingcan."Her teeth was a' like leather stakes,Her nose like club or mell;And I ken nae thing she 'pear'd to be,But the fiend that wons in hell.25"Some meat, some meat, ye King Henry;Some meat ye gie to me.""And what meat's in this house, Ladie?And what ha'e I to gi'e?""Its ye do kill your berry-brown steed,30And ye bring him here to me."O whan he slew his berry-brown steed,Wow but his heart was sair!She ate him a' up, flesh and bane,Left naething but hide and hair.35"Mair meat, mair meat, ye King Henry,Mair meat ye bring to me.""And what meat's in this house, Ladie?And what hae I to gi'e?""O ye do kill your good grey hounds,40And ye bring them in to me."O whan he killed his good grey hounds,Wow but his heart was sair!She ate them a' up, flesh and bane,Left naething but hide and hair.45"Mair meat, mair meat, ye King Henry,Mair meat ye bring to me.""And what meat's in this house, Ladie?And what hae I to gi'e?""O ye do kill your gay goss hawks,50And ye bring them here to me."O whan he kill'd his gay goss hawks,Wow but his heart was sair!She ate them a' up, skin and bane,Left naething but feathers bare.55"Some drink, some drink, now, King Henry;Some drink ye bring to me.""O what drink's in this house, Ladie,That ye're nae welcome tee?""O ye sew up your horse's hide,60And bring in a drink to me."And he's sew'd up the bloody hide,A puncheon o' wine put in;She drank it a' up at a waught,Left na ae drap ahin'.65"A bed, a bed, now, King Henry,A bed ye mak to me;For ye maun pu' the heather green,And mak a bed to me."And pu'd has he the heather green,70And made to her a bed;And up he's ta'en his gay mantle,And o'er it has he spread."Tak aff your claiths, now, King Henry,And lye down by my side;"75"O God forbid," says King Henry,"That ever the like betide;That ever the fiend that wons in hell,Should streek down by my side."Whan nicht was gane, and day was come,80And the sun shone thro' the ha',The fairest lady that ever was seenLay atween him and the wa'."O weel is me!" says King Henry;"How lang'll this last wi' me?"85Then out it spake that fair lady,—"E'en till the day you die."For I've met wi' mony a gentle knicht,That gae me sic a fill;But never before wi' a curteis knicht,90That gae me a' my will."

Lat never a man a wooing wend,That lacketh thingis three;A routh o' gould, an open heart,Ay fu' o' charity.

5As this I speak of King Henry,For he lay burd-alane;And he's doen him to a jelly hunt's ha',Was far frae ony town.

He chas'd the deer now him before,10And the roe down by the den,Till the fattest buck in a' the flockKing Henry he has slain.

O he has doen him to his ha',To mak him bierly cheer;15And in it cam a grisly ghost,Staed stappin' i' the fleer.

Her head hat the roof-tree o' the house,Her middle ye mat weel span;—He's thrown to her his gay mantle;20Says,—"Ladie, hap your lingcan."

Her teeth was a' like leather stakes,Her nose like club or mell;And I ken nae thing she 'pear'd to be,But the fiend that wons in hell.

25"Some meat, some meat, ye King Henry;Some meat ye gie to me.""And what meat's in this house, Ladie?And what ha'e I to gi'e?""Its ye do kill your berry-brown steed,30And ye bring him here to me."

O whan he slew his berry-brown steed,Wow but his heart was sair!She ate him a' up, flesh and bane,Left naething but hide and hair.

35"Mair meat, mair meat, ye King Henry,Mair meat ye bring to me.""And what meat's in this house, Ladie?And what hae I to gi'e?""O ye do kill your good grey hounds,40And ye bring them in to me."

O whan he killed his good grey hounds,Wow but his heart was sair!She ate them a' up, flesh and bane,Left naething but hide and hair.

45"Mair meat, mair meat, ye King Henry,Mair meat ye bring to me.""And what meat's in this house, Ladie?And what hae I to gi'e?""O ye do kill your gay goss hawks,50And ye bring them here to me."

O whan he kill'd his gay goss hawks,Wow but his heart was sair!She ate them a' up, skin and bane,Left naething but feathers bare.

55"Some drink, some drink, now, King Henry;Some drink ye bring to me.""O what drink's in this house, Ladie,That ye're nae welcome tee?""O ye sew up your horse's hide,60And bring in a drink to me."

And he's sew'd up the bloody hide,A puncheon o' wine put in;She drank it a' up at a waught,Left na ae drap ahin'.

65"A bed, a bed, now, King Henry,A bed ye mak to me;For ye maun pu' the heather green,And mak a bed to me."

And pu'd has he the heather green,70And made to her a bed;And up he's ta'en his gay mantle,And o'er it has he spread.

"Tak aff your claiths, now, King Henry,And lye down by my side;"75"O God forbid," says King Henry,"That ever the like betide;That ever the fiend that wons in hell,Should streek down by my side."

Whan nicht was gane, and day was come,80And the sun shone thro' the ha',The fairest lady that ever was seenLay atween him and the wa'.

"O weel is me!" says King Henry;"How lang'll this last wi' me?"85Then out it spake that fair lady,—"E'en till the day you die.

"For I've met wi' mony a gentle knicht,That gae me sic a fill;But never before wi' a curteis knicht,90That gae me a' my will."

This ballad, which is still very popular, is known under various other names, asBothwell, Child Brenton, Lord Dingwall, We were Sisters, We were Seven, &c. Scott's version was derived principally from recitation, but some of the concluding stanzas were taken from Herd's. Herd's copy, which must be regarded as a fragment, is given in connection with the present, and Buchan's in the Appendix to this volume. Another edition, of a suspicious character, may be seen in Cromek'sRemains of Nithsdale and Galloway Song, (p. 205.) All the principal incidents of the story are found inIngefred og Gudrune, Danske Viser, No. 194, translated by Jamieson,Illustrationsp. 340. More or less imperfect versions of the same areRiddar Olle, Svenska Folk-Visor, ii. p. 217, 59, 56, 215, andHerr Äster och Fröken Sissa, p. 50. The substitution of the maid-servant for the bride, occurs also inTorkild Trundesön, Danske V., No. 200, orThorkil Troneson, Arwidsson, No. 36. This idea was perhaps derived fromTristan and Isold: see Scott'sSir Tristrem, II. 54, 55.

Cospatrick has sent o'er the faem;Cospatrick brought his ladye hame;And fourscore ships have come her wi',The ladye by the grene-wood tree.5There were twal' and twal' wi' baken bread,And twal' and twal' wi' gowd sae reid,And twal' and twal' wi' bouted flour,And twal' and twal' wi' the paramour.Sweet Willy was a widow's son,10And at her stirrup he did run;And she was clad in the finest pall,But aye she let the tears down fall."O is your saddle set awrye?Or rides your steed for you ower high?15Or are you mourning, in your tide,That you suld be Cospatrick's bride?""I am not mourning, at this tide,That I suld be Cospatrick's bride;But I am sorrowing in my mood,29That I suld leave my mother good."But, gentle boy, come tell to me,What is the custom of thy countrie?"—"The custom thereof, my dame," he says,"Will ill a gentle laydye please.25"Seven king's daughters has our lord wedded,And seven king's daughters has our lord bedded;But he's cutted their breasts frae their breast-bane,And sent them mourning hame again."Yet, gin you're sure that you're a maid,30Ye may gae safely to his bed;But gif o' that ye be na sure,Then hire some damsell o' your bour."—The ladye's call'd her bour maiden,That waiting was into her train;35"Five thousand merks I'll gie to thee,To sleep this night with my lord for me."—When bells were rang, and mass was sayne,And a' men unto bed were gane,Cospatrick and the bonny maid,40Into a chamber they were laid."Now, speak to me, blankets, and speak to me, bed,And speak, thou sheet, enchanted web;And speak up, my bonny brown sword, that winna lie,Is this a true maiden that lies by me?"—45"It is not a maid that you hae wedded,But it is a maid that you hae bedded;It is a leal maiden that lies by thee,But not the maiden that it should be."—O wrathfully he left the bed,50And wrathfully his claes on did;And he has ta'en him through the ha',And on his mother he did ca'."I am the most unhappy man,That ever was in Christen land!55I courted a maiden, meik and mild,And I hae gotten naething but a woman wi' child."—"O stay, my son, into this ha',And sport ye wi' your merry men a';And I will to the secret bour,60To see how it fares wi' your paramour."—The carline she was stark and sture,She aff the hinges dang the dure;"O is your bairn to laird or loun,Or is it to your father's groom?"—65"O hear me, mother, on my knee,Till my sad story I tell to thee:O we were sisters, sisters seven,We were the fairest under heaven."It fell on a summer's afternoon,70When a' our toilsome task was done,We cast the kevils us amang,To see which suld to the grene-wood gang."Ohon! alas, for I was youngest,And aye my wierd it was the hardest!75The kevil it on me did fa',Whilk was the cause of a' my woe."For to the grene-wood I maun gae,To pu' the red rose and the slae;To pu' the red rose and the thyme,80To deck my mother's bour and mine."I hadna pu'd a flower but ane,When by there came a gallant hende,Wi' high-coll'd hose and laigh-coll'd shoon,And he seem'd to be sum kingis son.85"And be I a maid, or be I nae,He kept me there till the close o' day;And be I a maid, or be I nane,He kept me there till the day was done."He gae me a lock o' his yellow hair,90And bade me keep it ever mair;He gae me a carknet o' bonny beads,And bade me keep it against my needs."He gae to me a gay gold ring,And bade me keep it abune a' thing."—95"What did ye wi' the tokens rare,That ye gat frae that gallant there?"—"O bring that coffer unto me,And a' the tokens ye sall see."—"Now stay, daughter, your bour within,100While I gae parley wi' my son."—O she has ta'en her thro' the ha',And on her son began to ca';"What did ye wi' the bonny beadsI bade you keep against your needs?105"What did you wi' the gay gold ringI bade you keep abune a' thing?"—"I gae them to a ladye gay,I met on grene-wood on a day."But I wad gie a' my halls and tours,110I had that ladye within my bours;But I wad gie my very life,I had that ladye to my wife."—"Now keep, my son, your ha's and tours,Ye have the bright burd in your bours;115And keep, my son, your very life,Ye have that ladye to your wife."—Now, or a month was come and gane,The ladye bare a bonny son;And 'twas weel written on his breast-bane,120"Cospatrickis my father's name."120 "O row my lady in satin and silk,And wash my son in the morning milk."

Cospatrick has sent o'er the faem;Cospatrick brought his ladye hame;And fourscore ships have come her wi',The ladye by the grene-wood tree.

5There were twal' and twal' wi' baken bread,And twal' and twal' wi' gowd sae reid,And twal' and twal' wi' bouted flour,And twal' and twal' wi' the paramour.

Sweet Willy was a widow's son,10And at her stirrup he did run;And she was clad in the finest pall,But aye she let the tears down fall.

"O is your saddle set awrye?Or rides your steed for you ower high?15Or are you mourning, in your tide,That you suld be Cospatrick's bride?"

"I am not mourning, at this tide,That I suld be Cospatrick's bride;But I am sorrowing in my mood,29That I suld leave my mother good.

"But, gentle boy, come tell to me,What is the custom of thy countrie?"—"The custom thereof, my dame," he says,"Will ill a gentle laydye please.

25"Seven king's daughters has our lord wedded,And seven king's daughters has our lord bedded;But he's cutted their breasts frae their breast-bane,And sent them mourning hame again.

"Yet, gin you're sure that you're a maid,30Ye may gae safely to his bed;But gif o' that ye be na sure,Then hire some damsell o' your bour."—

The ladye's call'd her bour maiden,That waiting was into her train;35"Five thousand merks I'll gie to thee,To sleep this night with my lord for me."—

When bells were rang, and mass was sayne,And a' men unto bed were gane,Cospatrick and the bonny maid,40Into a chamber they were laid.

"Now, speak to me, blankets, and speak to me, bed,And speak, thou sheet, enchanted web;And speak up, my bonny brown sword, that winna lie,Is this a true maiden that lies by me?"—

45"It is not a maid that you hae wedded,But it is a maid that you hae bedded;It is a leal maiden that lies by thee,But not the maiden that it should be."—

O wrathfully he left the bed,50And wrathfully his claes on did;And he has ta'en him through the ha',And on his mother he did ca'.

"I am the most unhappy man,That ever was in Christen land!55I courted a maiden, meik and mild,And I hae gotten naething but a woman wi' child."—

"O stay, my son, into this ha',And sport ye wi' your merry men a';And I will to the secret bour,60To see how it fares wi' your paramour."—

The carline she was stark and sture,She aff the hinges dang the dure;"O is your bairn to laird or loun,Or is it to your father's groom?"—

65"O hear me, mother, on my knee,Till my sad story I tell to thee:O we were sisters, sisters seven,We were the fairest under heaven.

"It fell on a summer's afternoon,70When a' our toilsome task was done,We cast the kevils us amang,To see which suld to the grene-wood gang.

"Ohon! alas, for I was youngest,And aye my wierd it was the hardest!75The kevil it on me did fa',Whilk was the cause of a' my woe.

"For to the grene-wood I maun gae,To pu' the red rose and the slae;To pu' the red rose and the thyme,80To deck my mother's bour and mine.

"I hadna pu'd a flower but ane,When by there came a gallant hende,Wi' high-coll'd hose and laigh-coll'd shoon,And he seem'd to be sum kingis son.

85"And be I a maid, or be I nae,He kept me there till the close o' day;And be I a maid, or be I nane,He kept me there till the day was done.

"He gae me a lock o' his yellow hair,90And bade me keep it ever mair;He gae me a carknet o' bonny beads,And bade me keep it against my needs.

"He gae to me a gay gold ring,And bade me keep it abune a' thing."—95"What did ye wi' the tokens rare,That ye gat frae that gallant there?"—

"O bring that coffer unto me,And a' the tokens ye sall see."—"Now stay, daughter, your bour within,100While I gae parley wi' my son."—

O she has ta'en her thro' the ha',And on her son began to ca';"What did ye wi' the bonny beadsI bade you keep against your needs?

105"What did you wi' the gay gold ringI bade you keep abune a' thing?"—"I gae them to a ladye gay,I met on grene-wood on a day.

"But I wad gie a' my halls and tours,110I had that ladye within my bours;But I wad gie my very life,I had that ladye to my wife."—

"Now keep, my son, your ha's and tours,Ye have the bright burd in your bours;115And keep, my son, your very life,Ye have that ladye to your wife."—

Now, or a month was come and gane,The ladye bare a bonny son;And 'twas weel written on his breast-bane,120"Cospatrickis my father's name."120 "O row my lady in satin and silk,And wash my son in the morning milk."

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