G.

Pitcairn's MSS, III, 159, 1817-25. From the recitation of Widow Stevenson, aged seventy-three: "East Country."

1In the lands where Lord Beichan was born,Amang the stately steps of stane,He wore the goud at his left shoulder,But to the Holy Land he's gane.2He was na lang in the Holy Land,Amang the Prudents that was black,He was na lang in the Holy Land,Till the Prudent did Lord Beichan tak.3The gard him draw baith pleugh and harrow,And horse and oxen twa or three;They cast him in a dark dungeon,Whare he coud neither hear nor see.4The Prudent had a fair daughter,I wot they ca'd her Susy Pye,And all the keys in that cityHang at that lady by and bye.5It once fell out upon a dayThat into the prison she did gae,And whan she cam to the prison door,She kneeled low down on her knee.6'O hae ye ony lands, Beichan,Or hae ye ony castles hie,Whar ye wad tak a young thing to,If out of prison I wad let thee?'7'Fair London's mine, dear lady,' he said,'And other places twa or three,Whar I wad tak a young thing to,If out of prison ye wad let me.'8O she has opened the prison door,And other places twa or three,And gien him bread, and wine to drink,In her own chamber privately.9O then she built a bonny ship,And she has set it on the main,And she has built a bonny ship,It's for to tak Lord Beichan hame.10O she's gaen murning up and down,And she's gaen murnin to the sea,Then to her father she has gane in,Wha spak to her right angrily.11'O do ye mourn for the goud, daughter,Or do ye mourn for the whyte monie?Or do ye mourn for the English squire?I wat I will gar hang him hie.'12'I neither mourn for the goud, father,Nor do I for the whyte monie,Nor do I for the English squire;And I care na tho ye hang him hie.13'But I hae promised an errand to go,Seven lang miles ayont the sea,And blythe and merry I never will beUntill that errand you let me.'14'That errand, daughter, you may gang,Seven long miles beyond the sea,Since blythe and merry you'll neer beUntill that errand I'll let thee.'15O she has built a bonny ship,And she has set it in the sea,And she has built a bonny ship,It's all for to tak her a long journie.16And she's sailed a' the summer day,I wat the wind blew wondrous fair;In sight of fair London she has come,And till Lord Beichan's yett she walked.17Whan she cam till Lord Beichan's yett,She rappit loudly at the pin:'Is Beichan lord of this bonny place?I pray ye open and let me in.18'And O is this Lord Beichan's yett,And is the noble lord within?''O yes, it is Lord Beichan's yett,He's wi his bride and mony a ane.'19'If you'll gang up to Lord Beichan,Tell him the words that I tell thee;It will put him in mind of Susy Pye,And the Holy Land, whareer he be.20'Tell him to send one bite of bread,It's and a glass of his gude red wine,Nor to forget the lady's loveThat loosed him out of prison strong.'* * * * *21'I hae been porter at your yett,I'm sure this therty lang years and three,But the fairest lady stands thereatThat evir my twa eyes did see.22'On ilka finger she has a ring,And on the foremost she has three;As muckle goud is on her headAs wad buy an earldom of land to thee.23'She bids you send a bite of bread,It's and a glass of your gude red wine,Nor to forget the lady's loveThat let you out of prison strong.'24It's up and spak the bride's mother,A weight of goud hung at her chin:'There is no one so fair withoutBut there are, I wat, as fair within.'25It's up and spak the bride hersel,As she sat by the gude lord's knee:'Awa, awa, ye proud porter,This day ye might hae excepted me.'* * * * *26'Tak hence, tak hence your fair daughter,Tak hame your daughter fair frae me;For saving one kiss of her bonny lips,I'm sure of her body I am free.27'Awa, awa, ye proud mither,It's tak your daughter fair frae me;For I brought her home with chariots six,And I'll send her back wi coaches three.'28It's he's taen the table wi his fit,And syne he took it wi his knee;He gard the glasses and wine so red,He gard them all in flinders flee.29O he's gane down the steps of stairs,And a' the stately steps of stane,Until he cam to Susy Pye;I wat the tears blinded baith their eyne.30He led her up the steps of stairs,And a' the stately steps of stane,And changed her name from Susy Pye,And ca'd her lusty Lady Jane.31'O fye, gar cooks mak ready meat,O fye, gar cooks the pots supply,That it may be talked of in fair London,I've been twice married in ae day.'

1In the lands where Lord Beichan was born,Amang the stately steps of stane,He wore the goud at his left shoulder,But to the Holy Land he's gane.

2He was na lang in the Holy Land,Amang the Prudents that was black,He was na lang in the Holy Land,Till the Prudent did Lord Beichan tak.

3The gard him draw baith pleugh and harrow,And horse and oxen twa or three;They cast him in a dark dungeon,Whare he coud neither hear nor see.

4The Prudent had a fair daughter,I wot they ca'd her Susy Pye,And all the keys in that cityHang at that lady by and bye.

5It once fell out upon a dayThat into the prison she did gae,And whan she cam to the prison door,She kneeled low down on her knee.

6'O hae ye ony lands, Beichan,Or hae ye ony castles hie,Whar ye wad tak a young thing to,If out of prison I wad let thee?'

7'Fair London's mine, dear lady,' he said,'And other places twa or three,Whar I wad tak a young thing to,If out of prison ye wad let me.'

8O she has opened the prison door,And other places twa or three,And gien him bread, and wine to drink,In her own chamber privately.

9O then she built a bonny ship,And she has set it on the main,And she has built a bonny ship,It's for to tak Lord Beichan hame.

10O she's gaen murning up and down,And she's gaen murnin to the sea,Then to her father she has gane in,Wha spak to her right angrily.

11'O do ye mourn for the goud, daughter,Or do ye mourn for the whyte monie?Or do ye mourn for the English squire?I wat I will gar hang him hie.'

12'I neither mourn for the goud, father,Nor do I for the whyte monie,Nor do I for the English squire;And I care na tho ye hang him hie.

13'But I hae promised an errand to go,Seven lang miles ayont the sea,And blythe and merry I never will beUntill that errand you let me.'

14'That errand, daughter, you may gang,Seven long miles beyond the sea,Since blythe and merry you'll neer beUntill that errand I'll let thee.'

15O she has built a bonny ship,And she has set it in the sea,And she has built a bonny ship,It's all for to tak her a long journie.

16And she's sailed a' the summer day,I wat the wind blew wondrous fair;In sight of fair London she has come,And till Lord Beichan's yett she walked.

17Whan she cam till Lord Beichan's yett,She rappit loudly at the pin:'Is Beichan lord of this bonny place?I pray ye open and let me in.

18'And O is this Lord Beichan's yett,And is the noble lord within?''O yes, it is Lord Beichan's yett,He's wi his bride and mony a ane.'

19'If you'll gang up to Lord Beichan,Tell him the words that I tell thee;It will put him in mind of Susy Pye,And the Holy Land, whareer he be.

20'Tell him to send one bite of bread,It's and a glass of his gude red wine,Nor to forget the lady's loveThat loosed him out of prison strong.'

* * * * *

21'I hae been porter at your yett,I'm sure this therty lang years and three,But the fairest lady stands thereatThat evir my twa eyes did see.

22'On ilka finger she has a ring,And on the foremost she has three;As muckle goud is on her headAs wad buy an earldom of land to thee.

23'She bids you send a bite of bread,It's and a glass of your gude red wine,Nor to forget the lady's loveThat let you out of prison strong.'

24It's up and spak the bride's mother,A weight of goud hung at her chin:'There is no one so fair withoutBut there are, I wat, as fair within.'

25It's up and spak the bride hersel,As she sat by the gude lord's knee:'Awa, awa, ye proud porter,This day ye might hae excepted me.'

* * * * *

26'Tak hence, tak hence your fair daughter,Tak hame your daughter fair frae me;For saving one kiss of her bonny lips,I'm sure of her body I am free.

27'Awa, awa, ye proud mither,It's tak your daughter fair frae me;For I brought her home with chariots six,And I'll send her back wi coaches three.'

28It's he's taen the table wi his fit,And syne he took it wi his knee;He gard the glasses and wine so red,He gard them all in flinders flee.

29O he's gane down the steps of stairs,And a' the stately steps of stane,Until he cam to Susy Pye;I wat the tears blinded baith their eyne.

30He led her up the steps of stairs,And a' the stately steps of stane,And changed her name from Susy Pye,And ca'd her lusty Lady Jane.

31'O fye, gar cooks mak ready meat,O fye, gar cooks the pots supply,That it may be talked of in fair London,I've been twice married in ae day.'

Communicated by Mr Alexander Laing, of Newburg-on-Tay, as derived from the recitation of Miss Walker.

* * * * *1'O wha's aught a' yon flock o sheep,An wha's aught a' yon flock o kye?An wha's aught a' yon pretty castles,That you sae often do pass bye?'2'They're a' Lord Beekin's sheep,They're a' Lord Beekin's kye;They're a' Lord Beekin's castles,That you sae often do pass bye.'* * * * *3He's tane [the] table wi his feet,Made cups an candlesticks to flee:'I'll lay my life 't is Susy Pie,Come owr the seas to marry me.'

* * * * *

1'O wha's aught a' yon flock o sheep,An wha's aught a' yon flock o kye?An wha's aught a' yon pretty castles,That you sae often do pass bye?'

2'They're a' Lord Beekin's sheep,They're a' Lord Beekin's kye;They're a' Lord Beekin's castles,That you sae often do pass bye.'

* * * * *

3He's tane [the] table wi his feet,Made cups an candlesticks to flee:'I'll lay my life 't is Susy Pie,Come owr the seas to marry me.'

Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 260.

1Young Beichan was in London born,He was a man of hie degree;He past thro monie kingdoms great,Until he cam unto Grand Turkie.2He viewd the fashions of that land,Their way of worship viewed he,But unto onie of their stocksHe wadna sae much as bow a knee:3Which made him to be taken straight,And brought afore their hie jurie;The savage Moor did speak upricht,And made him meikle ill to dree.4In ilka shoulder they've bord a hole,And in ilka hole they've put a tree;They've made him to draw carts and wains,Till he was sick and like to dee.5But Young Beichan was a Christian born,And still a Christian was he;Which made them put him in prison strang,And cauld and hunger sair to dree,And fed on nocht but bread and water,Until the day that he mot dee.6In this prison there grew a tree,And it was unco stout and strang,Where he was chained by the middle,Until his life was almaist gane.7The savage Moor had but ae dochter,And her name it was Susie Pye,And ilka day as she took the air,The prison door she passed bye.8But it fell ance upon a day,As she was walking, she heard him sing;She listend to his tale of woe,A happy day for Young Beichan!9'My hounds they all go masterless,My hawks they flee frae tree to tree,My youngest brother will heir my lands,My native land I'll never see.'10'O were I but the prison-keeper,As I'm a ladie o hie degree,I soon wad set this youth at large,And send him to his ain countrie.'11She went away into her chamber,All nicht she never closd her ee;And when the morning begoud to dawn,At the prison door alane was she.12She gied the keeper a piece of gowd,And monie pieces o white monie,To tak her thro the bolts and bars,The lord frae Scotland she langd to see;She saw young Beichan at the stake,Which made her weep maist bitterlie.13'O hae ye got onie lands,' she says,'Or castles in your ain countrie?It's what wad ye gie to the ladie fairWha out o prison wad set you free?'14'It's I hae houses, and I hae lands,Wi monie castles fair to see,And I wad gie a' to that ladie gay,Wha out o prison wad set me free.'15The keeper syne brak aff his chains,And set Lord Beichan at libertie;She filld his pockets baith wi gowd,To tak him till his ain countrie.16She took him frae her father's prison,And gied to him the best o wine,And a brave health she drank to him:'I wish, Lord Beichan, ye were mine!17'It's seven lang years I'll mak a vow,And seven lang years I'll keep it true;If ye'll wed wi na ither woman,It's I will wed na man but you.'18She's tane him to her father's port,And gien to him a ship o fame:'Farewell, farewell, my Scottish lord,I fear I'll neer see you again.'19Lord Beichan turnd him round about,And lowly, lowly loutit he:'Ere seven lang years come to an end,I'll tak you to mine ain countrie.'* * * * *20Then whan he cam to Glasgow town,A happy, happy man was he;The ladies a' around him thrangd,To see him come frae slaverie.21His mother she had died o sorrow,And a' his brothers were dead but he;His lands they a' were lying waste,In ruins were his castles free.22Na porter there stood at his yett,Na human creature he could see,Except the screeching owls and bats,Had he to bear him companie.23But gowd will gar the castles grow,And he had gowd and jewels free,And soon the pages around him thrangd,To serve him on their bended knee.24His hall was hung wi silk and satin,His table rung wi mirth and glee,He soon forgot the lady fairThat lowsd him out o slaverie.25Lord Beichan courted a lady gay,To heir wi him his lands sae free,Neer thinking that a lady fairWas on her way frae Grand Turkie.26For Susie Pye could get na rest,Nor day nor nicht could happy be,Still thinking on the Scottish lord,Till she was sick and like to dee.27But she has builded a bonnie ship,Weel mannd wi seamen o hie degree,And secretly she stept on board,And bid adieu to her ain countrie.28But whan she cam to the Scottish shore,The bells were ringing sae merrilie;It was Lord Beichan's wedding day,Wi a lady fair o hie degree.29But sic a vessel was never seen;The very masts were tappd wi gold,Her sails were made o the satin fine,Maist beautiful for to behold.30But whan the lady cam on shore,Attended wi her pages three,Her shoon were of the beaten gowd,And she a lady of great beautie.31Then to the skipper she did say,'Can ye this answer gie to me?Where are Lord Beichan's lands sae braid?He surely lives in this countrie.'32Then up bespak the skipper bold,For he could speak the Turkish tongue:'Lord Beichan lives not far away;This is the day of his wedding.'33'If ye will guide me to Beichan's yetts,I will ye well reward,' said she;Then she and all her pages went,A very gallant companie.34When she cam to Lord Beichan's yetts,She tirld gently at the pin;Sae ready was the proud porterTo let the wedding guests come in.35'Is this Lord Beichan's house,' she says,'Or is that noble lord within?''Yes, he is gane into the hall,With his brave bride and monie ane.'36'Ye'll bid him send me a piece of bread,Bot and a cup of his best wine;And bid him mind the lady's loveThat ance did lowse him out o pyne.'37Then in and cam the porter bold,I wat he gae three shouts and three:'The fairest lady stands at your yettsThat ever my twa een did see.'38Then up bespak the bride's mither,I wat an angry woman was she:'You micht hae excepted our bonnie bride,Tho she'd been three times as fair as she.'39'My dame, your daughter's fair enough,And aye the fairer mot she be!But the fairest time that eer she was,She'll na compare wi this ladie.40'She has a gowd ring on ilka finger,And on her mid-finger she has three;She has as meikle gowd upon her headAs wad buy an earldom o land to thee.41'My lord, she begs some o your bread,Bot and a cup o your best wine,And bids you mind the lady's loveThat ance did lowse ye out o pyne.'42Then up and started Lord Beichan,I wat he made the table flee:'I wad gie a' my yearlie rent'T were Susie Pye come owre the sea.'43Syne up bespak the bride's mother,She was never heard to speak sae free:'Ye'll no forsake my ae dochter,Tho Susie Pye has crossd the sea?'44'Tak hame, tak hame, your dochter, madam,For she is neer the waur o me;She cam to me on horseback riding,And she sall gang hame in chariot free.'45He's tane Susie Pye by the milk-white hand,And led her thro his halls sae hie:'Ye're now Lord Beichan's lawful wife,And thrice ye're welcome unto me.'46Lord Beichan prepard for another wedding,Wi baith their hearts sae fu o glee;Says, 'I'll range na mair in foreign lands,Sin Susie Pye has crossd the sea.47'Fy! gar a' our cooks mak ready,And fy! gar a' our pipers play,And fy! gar trumpets gae thro the toun,That Lord Beichan's wedded twice in a day!'

1Young Beichan was in London born,He was a man of hie degree;He past thro monie kingdoms great,Until he cam unto Grand Turkie.

2He viewd the fashions of that land,Their way of worship viewed he,But unto onie of their stocksHe wadna sae much as bow a knee:

3Which made him to be taken straight,And brought afore their hie jurie;The savage Moor did speak upricht,And made him meikle ill to dree.

4In ilka shoulder they've bord a hole,And in ilka hole they've put a tree;They've made him to draw carts and wains,Till he was sick and like to dee.

5But Young Beichan was a Christian born,And still a Christian was he;Which made them put him in prison strang,And cauld and hunger sair to dree,And fed on nocht but bread and water,Until the day that he mot dee.

6In this prison there grew a tree,And it was unco stout and strang,Where he was chained by the middle,Until his life was almaist gane.

7The savage Moor had but ae dochter,And her name it was Susie Pye,And ilka day as she took the air,The prison door she passed bye.

8But it fell ance upon a day,As she was walking, she heard him sing;She listend to his tale of woe,A happy day for Young Beichan!

9'My hounds they all go masterless,My hawks they flee frae tree to tree,My youngest brother will heir my lands,My native land I'll never see.'

10'O were I but the prison-keeper,As I'm a ladie o hie degree,I soon wad set this youth at large,And send him to his ain countrie.'

11She went away into her chamber,All nicht she never closd her ee;And when the morning begoud to dawn,At the prison door alane was she.

12She gied the keeper a piece of gowd,And monie pieces o white monie,To tak her thro the bolts and bars,The lord frae Scotland she langd to see;She saw young Beichan at the stake,Which made her weep maist bitterlie.

13'O hae ye got onie lands,' she says,'Or castles in your ain countrie?It's what wad ye gie to the ladie fairWha out o prison wad set you free?'

14'It's I hae houses, and I hae lands,Wi monie castles fair to see,And I wad gie a' to that ladie gay,Wha out o prison wad set me free.'

15The keeper syne brak aff his chains,And set Lord Beichan at libertie;She filld his pockets baith wi gowd,To tak him till his ain countrie.

16She took him frae her father's prison,And gied to him the best o wine,And a brave health she drank to him:'I wish, Lord Beichan, ye were mine!

17'It's seven lang years I'll mak a vow,And seven lang years I'll keep it true;If ye'll wed wi na ither woman,It's I will wed na man but you.'

18She's tane him to her father's port,And gien to him a ship o fame:'Farewell, farewell, my Scottish lord,I fear I'll neer see you again.'

19Lord Beichan turnd him round about,And lowly, lowly loutit he:'Ere seven lang years come to an end,I'll tak you to mine ain countrie.'

* * * * *

20Then whan he cam to Glasgow town,A happy, happy man was he;The ladies a' around him thrangd,To see him come frae slaverie.

21His mother she had died o sorrow,And a' his brothers were dead but he;His lands they a' were lying waste,In ruins were his castles free.

22Na porter there stood at his yett,Na human creature he could see,Except the screeching owls and bats,Had he to bear him companie.

23But gowd will gar the castles grow,And he had gowd and jewels free,And soon the pages around him thrangd,To serve him on their bended knee.

24His hall was hung wi silk and satin,His table rung wi mirth and glee,He soon forgot the lady fairThat lowsd him out o slaverie.

25Lord Beichan courted a lady gay,To heir wi him his lands sae free,Neer thinking that a lady fairWas on her way frae Grand Turkie.

26For Susie Pye could get na rest,Nor day nor nicht could happy be,Still thinking on the Scottish lord,Till she was sick and like to dee.

27But she has builded a bonnie ship,Weel mannd wi seamen o hie degree,And secretly she stept on board,And bid adieu to her ain countrie.

28But whan she cam to the Scottish shore,The bells were ringing sae merrilie;It was Lord Beichan's wedding day,Wi a lady fair o hie degree.

29But sic a vessel was never seen;The very masts were tappd wi gold,Her sails were made o the satin fine,Maist beautiful for to behold.

30But whan the lady cam on shore,Attended wi her pages three,Her shoon were of the beaten gowd,And she a lady of great beautie.

31Then to the skipper she did say,'Can ye this answer gie to me?Where are Lord Beichan's lands sae braid?He surely lives in this countrie.'

32Then up bespak the skipper bold,For he could speak the Turkish tongue:'Lord Beichan lives not far away;This is the day of his wedding.'

33'If ye will guide me to Beichan's yetts,I will ye well reward,' said she;Then she and all her pages went,A very gallant companie.

34When she cam to Lord Beichan's yetts,She tirld gently at the pin;Sae ready was the proud porterTo let the wedding guests come in.

35'Is this Lord Beichan's house,' she says,'Or is that noble lord within?''Yes, he is gane into the hall,With his brave bride and monie ane.'

36'Ye'll bid him send me a piece of bread,Bot and a cup of his best wine;And bid him mind the lady's loveThat ance did lowse him out o pyne.'

37Then in and cam the porter bold,I wat he gae three shouts and three:'The fairest lady stands at your yettsThat ever my twa een did see.'

38Then up bespak the bride's mither,I wat an angry woman was she:'You micht hae excepted our bonnie bride,Tho she'd been three times as fair as she.'

39'My dame, your daughter's fair enough,And aye the fairer mot she be!But the fairest time that eer she was,She'll na compare wi this ladie.

40'She has a gowd ring on ilka finger,And on her mid-finger she has three;She has as meikle gowd upon her headAs wad buy an earldom o land to thee.

41'My lord, she begs some o your bread,Bot and a cup o your best wine,And bids you mind the lady's loveThat ance did lowse ye out o pyne.'

42Then up and started Lord Beichan,I wat he made the table flee:'I wad gie a' my yearlie rent'T were Susie Pye come owre the sea.'

43Syne up bespak the bride's mother,She was never heard to speak sae free:'Ye'll no forsake my ae dochter,Tho Susie Pye has crossd the sea?'

44'Tak hame, tak hame, your dochter, madam,For she is neer the waur o me;She cam to me on horseback riding,And she sall gang hame in chariot free.'

45He's tane Susie Pye by the milk-white hand,And led her thro his halls sae hie:'Ye're now Lord Beichan's lawful wife,And thrice ye're welcome unto me.'

46Lord Beichan prepard for another wedding,Wi baith their hearts sae fu o glee;Says, 'I'll range na mair in foreign lands,Sin Susie Pye has crossd the sea.

47'Fy! gar a' our cooks mak ready,And fy! gar a' our pipers play,And fy! gar trumpets gae thro the toun,That Lord Beichan's wedded twice in a day!'

Communicated by Mr David Louden, as recited by Mrs Dodds, Morham, Haddington, the reciter being above seventy in 1873.

1In London was Young Bechin born,Foreign nations he longed to see;He passed through many kingdoms great,At length he came unto Turkie.2He viewed the fashions of that land,The ways of worship viewed he,But unto any of their godsHe would not so much as bow the knee.3On every shoulder they made a bore,In every bore they put a tree,Then they made him the winepress tread,And all in spite of his fair bodie.4They put him into a deep dungeon,Where he could neither hear nor see,And for seven years they kept him there,Till for hunger he was like to die.5Stephen, their king, had a daughter fair,Yet never a man to her came nigh;And every day she took the air,Near to his prison she passed by.6One day she heard Young Bechin singA song that pleased her so well,No rest she got till she came to him,All in his lonely prison cell.7'I have a hall in London town,With other buildings two or three,And I'll give them all to the ladye fairThat from this dungeon shall set me free.'8She stole the keys from her dad's head,And if she oped one door ay she opened three,Till she Young Bechin could find out,He was locked up so curiouslie.* * * * *9'I've been a porter at your gateThis thirty years now, ay and three;There stands a ladye at your gate,The like of her I neer did see.10'On every finger she has a ring,On the mid-finger she has three;She's as much gold about her browAs would an earldom buy to me.'* * * * *11He's taen her by the milk-white hand,He gently led her through the green;He changed her name from Susie Pie,An he's called her lovely Ladye Jean.

1In London was Young Bechin born,Foreign nations he longed to see;He passed through many kingdoms great,At length he came unto Turkie.

2He viewed the fashions of that land,The ways of worship viewed he,But unto any of their godsHe would not so much as bow the knee.

3On every shoulder they made a bore,In every bore they put a tree,Then they made him the winepress tread,And all in spite of his fair bodie.

4They put him into a deep dungeon,Where he could neither hear nor see,And for seven years they kept him there,Till for hunger he was like to die.

5Stephen, their king, had a daughter fair,Yet never a man to her came nigh;And every day she took the air,Near to his prison she passed by.

6One day she heard Young Bechin singA song that pleased her so well,No rest she got till she came to him,All in his lonely prison cell.

7'I have a hall in London town,With other buildings two or three,And I'll give them all to the ladye fairThat from this dungeon shall set me free.'

8She stole the keys from her dad's head,And if she oped one door ay she opened three,Till she Young Bechin could find out,He was locked up so curiouslie.

* * * * *

9'I've been a porter at your gateThis thirty years now, ay and three;There stands a ladye at your gate,The like of her I neer did see.

10'On every finger she has a ring,On the mid-finger she has three;She's as much gold about her browAs would an earldom buy to me.'

* * * * *

11He's taen her by the milk-white hand,He gently led her through the green;He changed her name from Susie Pie,An he's called her lovely Ladye Jean.

Dr Joseph Robertson's Note-Book, "Adversaria," p. 85. From tradition.

* * * * *1She's taen the keys frae her fadder's coffer,Tho he keeps them most sacredlie,And she has opend the prison strong,And set Young Beichan at libertie.* * * * *2. . . . . . .. . . . . . .'Gae up the countrie, my chile,' she says,'Till your fadder's wrath be turned from thee.'* * * * *3She's put her han intill her purse,And gave the porter guineas three;Says, 'Tak ye that, ye proud porter,And tell your master to speak wi me.4'Ye'll bid him bring a shower o his best love,But and a bottle o his wine,And do to me as I did to him in time past,And brought him out o muckle pine.'5He's taen the table wi his foot,And he has keppit it wi his knee:'I'll wager my life and a' my lan,It's Susan Pie come ower the sea.6'Rise up, rise up, my bonnie bride,Ye're neither better nor waur for me;Ye cam to me on a horse and saddle,But ye may gang back in a coach and three.'

* * * * *

1She's taen the keys frae her fadder's coffer,Tho he keeps them most sacredlie,And she has opend the prison strong,And set Young Beichan at libertie.

* * * * *

2. . . . . . .. . . . . . .'Gae up the countrie, my chile,' she says,'Till your fadder's wrath be turned from thee.'

* * * * *

3She's put her han intill her purse,And gave the porter guineas three;Says, 'Tak ye that, ye proud porter,And tell your master to speak wi me.

4'Ye'll bid him bring a shower o his best love,But and a bottle o his wine,And do to me as I did to him in time past,And brought him out o muckle pine.'

5He's taen the table wi his foot,And he has keppit it wi his knee:'I'll wager my life and a' my lan,It's Susan Pie come ower the sea.

6'Rise up, rise up, my bonnie bride,Ye're neither better nor waur for me;Ye cam to me on a horse and saddle,But ye may gang back in a coach and three.'

Communicated by Mr David Louden, as obtained from Mrs Dickson, Rentonhall.

* * * * *1'There is a marriage in yonder hall,Has lasted thirty days and three;The bridegroom winna bed the bride,For the sake of one that's owre the sea.'* * * * *2'What news, what news, my brave young porter?What news, what news have ye for me?''As beautiful a ladye stands at your gateAs eer my two eyes yet did see.'3'A slice of bread to her get ready,And a bottle of the best of wine;Not to forget that fair young ladyeWho did release thee out of close confine.'4Lord Bechin in a passion flew,And rent himself like a sword in three,Saying, 'I would give all my father's richesIf my Sophia was 'cross the sea.'5Up spoke the young bride's mother,Who never was heard to speak so free,Saying, 'I hope you'll not forget my only daughter,Though your Sophia be 'cross the sea.'6'I own a bride I've wed your daughter,She's nothing else the worse of me;She came to me on a horse and saddle,She may go back in a coach and three.'

* * * * *

1'There is a marriage in yonder hall,Has lasted thirty days and three;The bridegroom winna bed the bride,For the sake of one that's owre the sea.'

* * * * *

2'What news, what news, my brave young porter?What news, what news have ye for me?''As beautiful a ladye stands at your gateAs eer my two eyes yet did see.'

3'A slice of bread to her get ready,And a bottle of the best of wine;Not to forget that fair young ladyeWho did release thee out of close confine.'

4Lord Bechin in a passion flew,And rent himself like a sword in three,Saying, 'I would give all my father's richesIf my Sophia was 'cross the sea.'

5Up spoke the young bride's mother,Who never was heard to speak so free,Saying, 'I hope you'll not forget my only daughter,Though your Sophia be 'cross the sea.'

6'I own a bride I've wed your daughter,She's nothing else the worse of me;She came to me on a horse and saddle,She may go back in a coach and three.'

The Loving Ballad of Lord Bateman. Illustrated by George Cruikshank. 1839.

1Lord Bateman was a noble lord,A noble lord of high degree;He shipped himself all aboard of a ship,Some foreign country for to see.2He sailed east, he sailed west,Until he came to famed Turkey,Where he was taken and put to prison,Until his life was quite weary.3All in this prison there grew a tree,O there it grew so stout and strong!Where he was chained all by the middle,Until his life was almost gone.4This Turk he had one only daughter,The fairest my two eyes eer see;She steel the keys of her father's prison,And swore Lord Bateman she would let go free.5O she took him to her father's cellar,And gave to him the best of wine;And every health she drank unto himWas, 'I wish, Lord Bateman, as you was mine.'6'O have you got houses, have you got land,And does Northumberland belong to thee?And what would you give to the fair young ladyAs out of prison would let you go free?'7'O I've got houses and I've got land,And half Northumberland belongs to me;And I will give it all to the fair young ladyAs out of prison would let me go free.'8'O in seven long years, I'll make a vowFor seven long years, and keep it strong,That if you'll wed no other woman,O I will wed no other man.'9O she took him to her father's harbor,And gave to him a ship of fame,Saying, Farewell, farewell to you, Lord Bateman,I fear I never shall see you again.10Now seven long years is gone and past,And fourteen days, well known to me;She packed up all her gay clothing,And swore Lord Bateman she would go see.11O when she arrived at Lord Bateman's castle,How boldly then she rang the bell!'Who's there? who's there?' cries the proud young porter,'O come unto me pray quickly tell.'12'O is this here Lord Bateman's castle,And is his lordship here within?''O yes, O yes,' cries the proud young porter,'He's just now taking his young bride in.'13'O bid him to send me a slice of bread,And a bottle of the very best wine,And not forgetting the fair young ladyAs did release him when close confine.'14O away and away went this proud young porter,O away and away and away went he,Until he come to Lord Bateman's chamber,When he went down on his bended knee.15'What news, what news, my proud young porter?What news, what news? Come tell to me:''O there is the fairest young ladyAs ever my two eyes did see.16'She has got rings on every finger,And on one finger she has got three;With as much gay gold about her middleAs would buy half Northumberlee.17'O she bids you to send her a slice of bread,And a bottle of the very best wine,And not forgetting the fair young ladyAs did release you when close confine.'18Lord Bateman then in passion flew,And broke his sword in splinters three,Saying, I will give half of my father's land,If so be as Sophia has crossed the sea.19Then up and spoke this young bride's mother,Who never was heard to speak so free;Saying, You'll not forget my only daughter,If so be as Sophia has crossed the sea.20'O it's true I made a bride of your daughter,But she's neither the better nor the worse for me;She came to me with a horse and saddle,But she may go home in a coach and three.'21Lord Bateman then prepared another marriage,With both their hearts so full of glee,Saying, I will roam no more to foreign countries,Now that Sophia has crossed the sea.

1Lord Bateman was a noble lord,A noble lord of high degree;He shipped himself all aboard of a ship,Some foreign country for to see.

2He sailed east, he sailed west,Until he came to famed Turkey,Where he was taken and put to prison,Until his life was quite weary.

3All in this prison there grew a tree,O there it grew so stout and strong!Where he was chained all by the middle,Until his life was almost gone.

4This Turk he had one only daughter,The fairest my two eyes eer see;She steel the keys of her father's prison,And swore Lord Bateman she would let go free.

5O she took him to her father's cellar,And gave to him the best of wine;And every health she drank unto himWas, 'I wish, Lord Bateman, as you was mine.'

6'O have you got houses, have you got land,And does Northumberland belong to thee?And what would you give to the fair young ladyAs out of prison would let you go free?'

7'O I've got houses and I've got land,And half Northumberland belongs to me;And I will give it all to the fair young ladyAs out of prison would let me go free.'

8'O in seven long years, I'll make a vowFor seven long years, and keep it strong,That if you'll wed no other woman,O I will wed no other man.'

9O she took him to her father's harbor,And gave to him a ship of fame,Saying, Farewell, farewell to you, Lord Bateman,I fear I never shall see you again.

10Now seven long years is gone and past,And fourteen days, well known to me;She packed up all her gay clothing,And swore Lord Bateman she would go see.

11O when she arrived at Lord Bateman's castle,How boldly then she rang the bell!'Who's there? who's there?' cries the proud young porter,'O come unto me pray quickly tell.'

12'O is this here Lord Bateman's castle,And is his lordship here within?''O yes, O yes,' cries the proud young porter,'He's just now taking his young bride in.'

13'O bid him to send me a slice of bread,And a bottle of the very best wine,And not forgetting the fair young ladyAs did release him when close confine.'

14O away and away went this proud young porter,O away and away and away went he,Until he come to Lord Bateman's chamber,When he went down on his bended knee.

15'What news, what news, my proud young porter?What news, what news? Come tell to me:''O there is the fairest young ladyAs ever my two eyes did see.

16'She has got rings on every finger,And on one finger she has got three;With as much gay gold about her middleAs would buy half Northumberlee.

17'O she bids you to send her a slice of bread,And a bottle of the very best wine,And not forgetting the fair young ladyAs did release you when close confine.'

18Lord Bateman then in passion flew,And broke his sword in splinters three,Saying, I will give half of my father's land,If so be as Sophia has crossed the sea.

19Then up and spoke this young bride's mother,Who never was heard to speak so free;Saying, You'll not forget my only daughter,If so be as Sophia has crossed the sea.

20'O it's true I made a bride of your daughter,But she's neither the better nor the worse for me;She came to me with a horse and saddle,But she may go home in a coach and three.'

21Lord Bateman then prepared another marriage,With both their hearts so full of glee,Saying, I will roam no more to foreign countries,Now that Sophia has crossed the sea.

Buchan's MSS, I, 18. J.H. Dixon, Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads, p. 1.

1Young Bonwell was a squire's ae son,And a squire's ae son was he;He went abroad to a foreign land,To serve for meat and fee.2He hadna been in that countryA twalmonth and a day,Till he was cast in prison strong,For the sake of a lovely may.3'O if my father get word of this,At hame in his ain country,He'll send red gowd for my relief,And a bag o white money.4'O gin an earl woud borrow me,At his bridle I woud rin;Or gin a widow woud borrow me,I'd swear to be her son.5'Or gin a may woud borrow me,I'd wed her wi a ring,Infeft her wi the ha's and bowersO the bonny towers o Linne.'6But it fell ance upon a dayDame Essels she thought lang,And she is to the jail-house door,To hear Young Bondwell's sang.7'Sing on, sing on, my bonny Bondwell,The sang ye sang just now:''I never sang the sang, lady,But I woud war 't on you.8'O gin my father get word o this,At hame in his ain country,He'll send red gowd for my relief,And a bag o white money.9'O gin an earl woud borrow me,At his bridle I woud rin;Or gin a widow would borrow me,I'd swear to be her son.10'Or gin a may woud borrow me,I woud wed her wi a ring,Infeft her wi the ha's and bowersO the bonny towers o Linne.'11She's stole the keys o the jail-house door,Where under the bed they lay;She's opend to him the jail-house door,And set Young Bondwell free.12She gae 'm a steed was swift in need,A saddle o royal ben,A hunder pund o pennies round,Bade him gae roav an spend.13A couple o hounds o ae litter,And Cain they ca'd the one;Twa gay gos-hawks she gae likeways,To keep him onthought lang.14When mony days were past and gane,Dame Essels thought fell lang,And she is to her lonely bower,To shorten her wi a sang.15The sang had such a melody,It lulld her fast asleep;Up starts a woman, clad in green,And stood at her bed-feet.16'Win up, win up, Dame Essels,' she says,'This day ye sleep ower lang;The morn is the squire's wedding day,In the bonny towers o Linne.17'Ye'll dress yoursell in the robes o green,Your maids in robes sae fair,And ye'll put girdles about their middles,Sae costly, rich and rare.18'Ye'll take your maries alang wi you,Till ye come to yon strand;There ye'll see a ship, wi sails all up,Come sailing to dry land.19'Ye'll take a wand into your hand,Ye'll stroke her round about,And ye'll take God your pilot to be,To drown ye'll take nae doubt.'20Then up it raise her Dame Essels,Sought water to wash her hands,But aye the faster that she washd,The tears they trickling ran.21Then in it came her father dear,And in the floor steps he:'What ails Dame Essels, my daughter dear,Ye weep sae bitterlie?22'Want ye a small fish frae the flood,Or turtle frae the sea?Or is there man in a' my realmThis day has offended thee?'23'I want nae small fish frae the flood,Nor turtle frae the sea;But Young Bondwell, your ain prisoner,This day has offended me.'24Her father turnd him round about,A solemn oath sware he:'If this be true ye tell me nowHigh hanged he shall be.25'To-morrow morning he shall beHung high upon a tree:'Dame Essels whisperd to hersel,'Father, ye've made a lie.'26She dressd hersel in robes o green,Her maids in robes sae fair,Wi gowden girdles round their middles,Sae costly, rich and rare.27She's taen her mantle her about,A maiden in every hand;They saw a ship, wi sails a' up,Come sailing to dry land.28She's taen a wand intill her hand,And stroked her round about,And she's taen God her pilot to be,To drown she took nae doubt.29So they saild on, and further on,Till to the water o Tay;There they spied a bonny little boy,Was watering his steeds sae gay.30'What news, what news, my little boy,What news hae ye to me?Are there any weddings in this place,Or any gaun to be?'31'There is a wedding in this place,A wedding very soon;The morn's the young squire's wedding day,In the bonny towers of Linne.'32O then she walked alang the wayTo see what coud be seen,And there she saw the proud porter,Drest in a mantle green.33'What news, what news, porter?' she said,'What news hae ye to me?Are there any weddings in this place,Or any gaun to be?'34'There is a wedding in this place,A wedding very soon;The morn is Young Bondwell's wedding day,The bonny squire o Linne.'35'Gae to your master, porter,' she said,'Gae ye right speedilie;Bid him come and speak wi a maidThat wishes his face to see.'36The porter's up to his master gane,Fell low down on his knee;'Win up, win up, my porter,' he said,'Why bow ye low to me?'37'I hae been porter at your yettsThese thirty years and three,But fairer maids than's at them nowMy eyes did never see.38'The foremost she is drest in green,The rest in fine attire,Wi gowden girdles round their middles,Well worth a sheriff's hire.'39Then out it speaks Bondwell's own bride,Was a' gowd to the chin;'They canno be fairer thereout,' she says,'Than we that are therein.'40'There is a difference, my dame,' he said,''Tween that ladye's colour and yours;As much difference as you were a stock,She o the lily flowers.'41Then out it speaks him Young Bondwell,An angry man was he:'Cast up the yetts baith wide an braid,These ladies I may see.'42Quickly up stairs Dame Essel's gane,Her maidens next her wi;Then said the bride, This lady's faceShows the porter's tauld nae lie.43The lady unto Bondwell spake,These words pronounced she:O hearken, hearken, fause Bondwell,These words that I tell thee.44Is this the way ye keep your vowsThat ye did make to me,When your feet were in iron fetters,Ae foot ye coudna flee?45I stole the keys o the jail-house doorFrae under the bed they lay,And opend up the jail-house door,Set you at liberty.46Gae you a steed was swift in need,A saddle o royal ben,A hunder pund o pennies round,Bade you gae rove an spend.47A couple o hounds o ae litter,Cain they ca'ed the ane,Twa gay gos-hawks as swift's eer flew,To keep you onthought lang.48But since this day ye've broke your vow,For which ye're sair to blame,And since nae mair I'll get o you,O Cain, will ye gae hame?49'O Cain! O Cain!' the lady cried,And Cain did her ken;They baith flappd round the lady's knee,Like a couple o armed men.50He's to his bride wi hat in hand,And haild her courteouslie:'Sit down by me, my bonny Bondwell,What makes this courtesie?'51'An asking, asking, fair lady,An asking ye'll grant me;''Ask on, ask on, my bonny Bondwell,What may your askings be?'52'Five hundred pounds to you I'll gie,Of gowd an white monie,If ye'll wed John, my ain cousin;He looks as fair as me.'53'Keep well your monie, Bondwell,' she said,'Nae monie I ask o thee;Your cousin John was my first love,My husband now he's be.'54Bondwell was married at morning ear,John in the afternoon;Dame Essels is lady ower a' the bowersAnd the high towers o Linne.

1Young Bonwell was a squire's ae son,And a squire's ae son was he;He went abroad to a foreign land,To serve for meat and fee.

2He hadna been in that countryA twalmonth and a day,Till he was cast in prison strong,For the sake of a lovely may.

3'O if my father get word of this,At hame in his ain country,He'll send red gowd for my relief,And a bag o white money.

4'O gin an earl woud borrow me,At his bridle I woud rin;Or gin a widow woud borrow me,I'd swear to be her son.

5'Or gin a may woud borrow me,I'd wed her wi a ring,Infeft her wi the ha's and bowersO the bonny towers o Linne.'

6But it fell ance upon a dayDame Essels she thought lang,And she is to the jail-house door,To hear Young Bondwell's sang.

7'Sing on, sing on, my bonny Bondwell,The sang ye sang just now:''I never sang the sang, lady,But I woud war 't on you.

8'O gin my father get word o this,At hame in his ain country,He'll send red gowd for my relief,And a bag o white money.

9'O gin an earl woud borrow me,At his bridle I woud rin;Or gin a widow would borrow me,I'd swear to be her son.

10'Or gin a may woud borrow me,I woud wed her wi a ring,Infeft her wi the ha's and bowersO the bonny towers o Linne.'

11She's stole the keys o the jail-house door,Where under the bed they lay;She's opend to him the jail-house door,And set Young Bondwell free.

12She gae 'm a steed was swift in need,A saddle o royal ben,A hunder pund o pennies round,Bade him gae roav an spend.

13A couple o hounds o ae litter,And Cain they ca'd the one;Twa gay gos-hawks she gae likeways,To keep him onthought lang.

14When mony days were past and gane,Dame Essels thought fell lang,And she is to her lonely bower,To shorten her wi a sang.

15The sang had such a melody,It lulld her fast asleep;Up starts a woman, clad in green,And stood at her bed-feet.

16'Win up, win up, Dame Essels,' she says,'This day ye sleep ower lang;The morn is the squire's wedding day,In the bonny towers o Linne.

17'Ye'll dress yoursell in the robes o green,Your maids in robes sae fair,And ye'll put girdles about their middles,Sae costly, rich and rare.

18'Ye'll take your maries alang wi you,Till ye come to yon strand;There ye'll see a ship, wi sails all up,Come sailing to dry land.

19'Ye'll take a wand into your hand,Ye'll stroke her round about,And ye'll take God your pilot to be,To drown ye'll take nae doubt.'

20Then up it raise her Dame Essels,Sought water to wash her hands,But aye the faster that she washd,The tears they trickling ran.

21Then in it came her father dear,And in the floor steps he:'What ails Dame Essels, my daughter dear,Ye weep sae bitterlie?

22'Want ye a small fish frae the flood,Or turtle frae the sea?Or is there man in a' my realmThis day has offended thee?'

23'I want nae small fish frae the flood,Nor turtle frae the sea;But Young Bondwell, your ain prisoner,This day has offended me.'

24Her father turnd him round about,A solemn oath sware he:'If this be true ye tell me nowHigh hanged he shall be.

25'To-morrow morning he shall beHung high upon a tree:'Dame Essels whisperd to hersel,'Father, ye've made a lie.'

26She dressd hersel in robes o green,Her maids in robes sae fair,Wi gowden girdles round their middles,Sae costly, rich and rare.

27She's taen her mantle her about,A maiden in every hand;They saw a ship, wi sails a' up,Come sailing to dry land.

28She's taen a wand intill her hand,And stroked her round about,And she's taen God her pilot to be,To drown she took nae doubt.

29So they saild on, and further on,Till to the water o Tay;There they spied a bonny little boy,Was watering his steeds sae gay.

30'What news, what news, my little boy,What news hae ye to me?Are there any weddings in this place,Or any gaun to be?'

31'There is a wedding in this place,A wedding very soon;The morn's the young squire's wedding day,In the bonny towers of Linne.'

32O then she walked alang the wayTo see what coud be seen,And there she saw the proud porter,Drest in a mantle green.

33'What news, what news, porter?' she said,'What news hae ye to me?Are there any weddings in this place,Or any gaun to be?'

34'There is a wedding in this place,A wedding very soon;The morn is Young Bondwell's wedding day,The bonny squire o Linne.'

35'Gae to your master, porter,' she said,'Gae ye right speedilie;Bid him come and speak wi a maidThat wishes his face to see.'

36The porter's up to his master gane,Fell low down on his knee;'Win up, win up, my porter,' he said,'Why bow ye low to me?'

37'I hae been porter at your yettsThese thirty years and three,But fairer maids than's at them nowMy eyes did never see.

38'The foremost she is drest in green,The rest in fine attire,Wi gowden girdles round their middles,Well worth a sheriff's hire.'

39Then out it speaks Bondwell's own bride,Was a' gowd to the chin;'They canno be fairer thereout,' she says,'Than we that are therein.'

40'There is a difference, my dame,' he said,''Tween that ladye's colour and yours;As much difference as you were a stock,She o the lily flowers.'

41Then out it speaks him Young Bondwell,An angry man was he:'Cast up the yetts baith wide an braid,These ladies I may see.'

42Quickly up stairs Dame Essel's gane,Her maidens next her wi;Then said the bride, This lady's faceShows the porter's tauld nae lie.

43The lady unto Bondwell spake,These words pronounced she:O hearken, hearken, fause Bondwell,These words that I tell thee.

44Is this the way ye keep your vowsThat ye did make to me,When your feet were in iron fetters,Ae foot ye coudna flee?

45I stole the keys o the jail-house doorFrae under the bed they lay,And opend up the jail-house door,Set you at liberty.

46Gae you a steed was swift in need,A saddle o royal ben,A hunder pund o pennies round,Bade you gae rove an spend.

47A couple o hounds o ae litter,Cain they ca'ed the ane,Twa gay gos-hawks as swift's eer flew,To keep you onthought lang.

48But since this day ye've broke your vow,For which ye're sair to blame,And since nae mair I'll get o you,O Cain, will ye gae hame?

49'O Cain! O Cain!' the lady cried,And Cain did her ken;They baith flappd round the lady's knee,Like a couple o armed men.

50He's to his bride wi hat in hand,And haild her courteouslie:'Sit down by me, my bonny Bondwell,What makes this courtesie?'

51'An asking, asking, fair lady,An asking ye'll grant me;''Ask on, ask on, my bonny Bondwell,What may your askings be?'

52'Five hundred pounds to you I'll gie,Of gowd an white monie,If ye'll wed John, my ain cousin;He looks as fair as me.'

53'Keep well your monie, Bondwell,' she said,'Nae monie I ask o thee;Your cousin John was my first love,My husband now he's be.'

54Bondwell was married at morning ear,John in the afternoon;Dame Essels is lady ower a' the bowersAnd the high towers o Linne.

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