B

Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 24.

1The young lords o the north countryHave all a wooing gone,To win the love of Lady Maisry,But o them she woud hae none.2O they hae courted Lady MaisryWi a' kin kind of things;An they hae sought her Lady MaisryWi brotches an wi' rings.3An they ha sought her Lady MaisryFrae father and frae mother;An they ha sought her Lady MaisryFrae sister an frae brother.4An they ha followd her Lady MaisryThro chamber an thro ha;But a' that they coud say to her,Her answer still was Na.5'O had your tongues, young men,' she says,'An think nae mair o me;For I've gien my love to an English lord,An think nae mair o me.'6Her father's kitchy-boy heard that,An ill death may he dee!An he is on to her brother,As fast as gang coud he.7'O is my father an my mother well,But an my brothers three?Gin my sister Lady Maisry be well,There's naething can ail me.'8'Your father and your mother is well,But an your brothers three;Your sister Lady Maisry's well,So big wi bairn gangs she.'9'Gin this be true you tell to me,My mailison light on thee!But gin it be a lie you tell,You sal be hangit hie.'10He's done him to his sister's bowr,Wi meikle doole an care;An there he saw her Lady Maisry,Kembing her yallow hair.11'O wha is aught that bairn,' he says,'That ye sae big are wi?And gin ye winna own the truth,This moment ye sall dee.'12She turnd her right an roun about,An the kem fell frae her han;A trembling seizd her fair body,An her rosy cheek grew wan.13'O pardon me, my brother dear,An the truth I'll tell to thee;My bairn it is to Lord William,An he is betrothd to me.'14'O coud na ye gotten dukes, or lords,Intill your ain country,That ye draw up wi an English dog,To bring this shame on me?15'But ye maun gi up the English lord,Whan youre young babe is born;For, gin you keep by him an hour langer,Your life sall be forlorn.'16'I will gi up this English blood,Till my young babe be born;But the never a day nor hour langer,Tho my life should be forlorn.'17'O whare is a' my merry young men,Whom I gi meat and fee,To pu the thistle and the thorn,To burn this wile whore wi?'18'O whare will I get a bonny boy,To help me in my need,To rin wi hast to Lord William,And bid him come wi speed?'19O out it spake a bonny boy,Stood by her brother's side:'O I would rin your errand, lady,Oer a' the world wide.20'Aft have I run your errands, lady,Whan blawn baith win and weet;But now I'll rin your errand, lady,Wi sat tears on my cheek.'21O whan he came to broken briggs,He bent his bow and swam,An whan he came to the green grass growin,He slackd his shoone and ran.22O whan he came to Lord William's gates,He baed na to chap or ca,But set his bent bow till his breast,An lightly lap the wa;An, or the porter was at the gate,The boy was i the ha.23'O is my biggins broken, boy?Or is my towers won?Or is my lady lighter yet,Of a dear daughter or son?'24'Your biggin is na broken, sir,Nor is your towers won;But the fairest lady in a' the lanFor you this day maun burn.'25'O saddle me the black, the black,Or saddle me the brown;O saddle me the swiftest steedThat ever rade frae a town.'26Or he was near a mile awa,She heard his wild horse sneeze:'Mend up the fire, my false brother,It's na come to my knees.'27O whan he lighted at the gate,She heard his bridle ring:'Mend up the fire, my false brother,It's far yet frae my chin.28'Mend up the fire to me, brother,Mend up the fire to me;For I see him comin hard an fastWill soon men 't up to thee.29'O gin my hands had been loose, Willy,Sae hard as they are boun,I would have turnd me frae the gleed,And castin out your young son.'30'O I'll gar burn for you, Maisry,Your father an your mother;An I'll gar burn for you, Maisry,Your sister an your brother.31'An I'll gar burn for you, Maisry,The chief of a' your kin;An the last bonfire that I come to,Mysel I will cast in.'

1The young lords o the north countryHave all a wooing gone,To win the love of Lady Maisry,But o them she woud hae none.

2O they hae courted Lady MaisryWi a' kin kind of things;An they hae sought her Lady MaisryWi brotches an wi' rings.

3An they ha sought her Lady MaisryFrae father and frae mother;An they ha sought her Lady MaisryFrae sister an frae brother.

4An they ha followd her Lady MaisryThro chamber an thro ha;But a' that they coud say to her,Her answer still was Na.

5'O had your tongues, young men,' she says,'An think nae mair o me;For I've gien my love to an English lord,An think nae mair o me.'

6Her father's kitchy-boy heard that,An ill death may he dee!An he is on to her brother,As fast as gang coud he.

7'O is my father an my mother well,But an my brothers three?Gin my sister Lady Maisry be well,There's naething can ail me.'

8'Your father and your mother is well,But an your brothers three;Your sister Lady Maisry's well,So big wi bairn gangs she.'

9'Gin this be true you tell to me,My mailison light on thee!But gin it be a lie you tell,You sal be hangit hie.'

10He's done him to his sister's bowr,Wi meikle doole an care;An there he saw her Lady Maisry,Kembing her yallow hair.

11'O wha is aught that bairn,' he says,'That ye sae big are wi?And gin ye winna own the truth,This moment ye sall dee.'

12She turnd her right an roun about,An the kem fell frae her han;A trembling seizd her fair body,An her rosy cheek grew wan.

13'O pardon me, my brother dear,An the truth I'll tell to thee;My bairn it is to Lord William,An he is betrothd to me.'

14'O coud na ye gotten dukes, or lords,Intill your ain country,That ye draw up wi an English dog,To bring this shame on me?

15'But ye maun gi up the English lord,Whan youre young babe is born;For, gin you keep by him an hour langer,Your life sall be forlorn.'

16'I will gi up this English blood,Till my young babe be born;But the never a day nor hour langer,Tho my life should be forlorn.'

17'O whare is a' my merry young men,Whom I gi meat and fee,To pu the thistle and the thorn,To burn this wile whore wi?'

18'O whare will I get a bonny boy,To help me in my need,To rin wi hast to Lord William,And bid him come wi speed?'

19O out it spake a bonny boy,Stood by her brother's side:'O I would rin your errand, lady,Oer a' the world wide.

20'Aft have I run your errands, lady,Whan blawn baith win and weet;But now I'll rin your errand, lady,Wi sat tears on my cheek.'

21O whan he came to broken briggs,He bent his bow and swam,An whan he came to the green grass growin,He slackd his shoone and ran.

22O whan he came to Lord William's gates,He baed na to chap or ca,But set his bent bow till his breast,An lightly lap the wa;An, or the porter was at the gate,The boy was i the ha.

23'O is my biggins broken, boy?Or is my towers won?Or is my lady lighter yet,Of a dear daughter or son?'

24'Your biggin is na broken, sir,Nor is your towers won;But the fairest lady in a' the lanFor you this day maun burn.'

25'O saddle me the black, the black,Or saddle me the brown;O saddle me the swiftest steedThat ever rade frae a town.'

26Or he was near a mile awa,She heard his wild horse sneeze:'Mend up the fire, my false brother,It's na come to my knees.'

27O whan he lighted at the gate,She heard his bridle ring:'Mend up the fire, my false brother,It's far yet frae my chin.

28'Mend up the fire to me, brother,Mend up the fire to me;For I see him comin hard an fastWill soon men 't up to thee.

29'O gin my hands had been loose, Willy,Sae hard as they are boun,I would have turnd me frae the gleed,And castin out your young son.'

30'O I'll gar burn for you, Maisry,Your father an your mother;An I'll gar burn for you, Maisry,Your sister an your brother.

31'An I'll gar burn for you, Maisry,The chief of a' your kin;An the last bonfire that I come to,Mysel I will cast in.'

Motherwell's MS., p. 422, communicated by Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe.

1In came her sister,Stepping on the floor;Says, It's telling me, my sister Janet,That you're become a whore.2'A whore, sister, a whore, sister?That's what I'll never be;I'm no so great a whore, sister,As liars does on me lee.'3In came her brother,Stepping on the floor;Says, It's telling me, my sister Janet,That you're become a whore.'4'A whore, brother, a whore, brother?A whore I'll never be;I'm no so bad a woman, brother,As liars does on me lee.'5In came her mother,Stepping on the floor:'They are telling me, my daughter,That you're so soon become a whore.'6'A whore, mother, a whore, mother?A whore I'll never be;I'm only with child to an English lord,Who promised to marry me.'7In came her father,Stepping on the floor;Says, They tell me, my daughter Janet,That you are become a whore.'8'A whore, father, a whore, father?A whore I'll never be;I'm but with child to an English lord,Who promisd to marry me.'9Then in it came an old woman,The lady's nurse was she,And ere she could get out a wordThe tear blinded her ee.10'Your father's to the fire, Janet,Your brother's to the whin;All for to kindle a bold bonfire,To burn your body in.'11'Where will I get a boy,' she said,'Will gain gold for his fee,That would run unto fair EnglandFor my good lord to me?'12'O I have here a boy,' she said,'Will gain gold to his fee,For he will run to fair EnglandFor thy good lord to thee.'13Now when he found a bridge broken,He bent his bow and swam,And when he got where grass did grow,He slacked it and ran.14And when he came to that lord's gate,Stopt not to knock or call,But set his bent bow to his breastAnd lightly leapt the wall;And ere the porter could open the gate,The boy was in the hall,15In presence of that noble lord,And fell down on his knee:'What is it, my boy,' he cried,'Have you brought unto me?16'Is my building broke into?Or is my towers won?Or is my true-love deliveredOf daughter or of son?'17'Your building is not broke,' he cried,'Nor is your towers won,Nor is your true-love deliveredOf daughter nor of son;But if you do not come in haste,Be sure she will be gone.18'Her father is gone to the fire,Her brother to the whin,To kindle up a bold bonfire,To burn her body in.'19'Go saddle to me the black,' he cried,'And do it very soon;Get unto me the swiftest horseThat ever rade from the town.'20The first horse that he rade upon,For he was raven black,He bore him far, and very far,But failed in a slack.21The next horse that he rode upon,He was a bonny brown;He bore him far, and very far,But did at last fall down.22The next horse that he rode upon,He as the milk was white;Fair fall the mare that foaled that foalTook him to Janet's sight!23And boots and spurs, all as he was,Into the fire he lap,Got one kiss of her comely mouth,While her body gave a crack.24'O who has been so bold,' he says,'This bonfire to set on?Or who has been so bold,' he says,'Her body for to burn?'25'O here are we,' her brother said,'This bonfire who set on;And we have been so bold,' he said,'Her body for to burn.'26'O I'll cause burn for you, Janet,Your father and your mother;And I'll cause die for you, Janet,Your sister and your brother.27'And I'll cause mony back be bare,And mony shed be thin,And mony wife be made a widow,And mony ane want their son.'

1In came her sister,Stepping on the floor;Says, It's telling me, my sister Janet,That you're become a whore.

2'A whore, sister, a whore, sister?That's what I'll never be;I'm no so great a whore, sister,As liars does on me lee.'

3In came her brother,Stepping on the floor;Says, It's telling me, my sister Janet,That you're become a whore.'

4'A whore, brother, a whore, brother?A whore I'll never be;I'm no so bad a woman, brother,As liars does on me lee.'

5In came her mother,Stepping on the floor:'They are telling me, my daughter,That you're so soon become a whore.'

6'A whore, mother, a whore, mother?A whore I'll never be;I'm only with child to an English lord,Who promised to marry me.'

7In came her father,Stepping on the floor;Says, They tell me, my daughter Janet,That you are become a whore.'

8'A whore, father, a whore, father?A whore I'll never be;I'm but with child to an English lord,Who promisd to marry me.'

9Then in it came an old woman,The lady's nurse was she,And ere she could get out a wordThe tear blinded her ee.

10'Your father's to the fire, Janet,Your brother's to the whin;All for to kindle a bold bonfire,To burn your body in.'

11'Where will I get a boy,' she said,'Will gain gold for his fee,That would run unto fair EnglandFor my good lord to me?'

12'O I have here a boy,' she said,'Will gain gold to his fee,For he will run to fair EnglandFor thy good lord to thee.'

13Now when he found a bridge broken,He bent his bow and swam,And when he got where grass did grow,He slacked it and ran.

14And when he came to that lord's gate,Stopt not to knock or call,But set his bent bow to his breastAnd lightly leapt the wall;And ere the porter could open the gate,The boy was in the hall,

15In presence of that noble lord,And fell down on his knee:'What is it, my boy,' he cried,'Have you brought unto me?

16'Is my building broke into?Or is my towers won?Or is my true-love deliveredOf daughter or of son?'

17'Your building is not broke,' he cried,'Nor is your towers won,Nor is your true-love deliveredOf daughter nor of son;But if you do not come in haste,Be sure she will be gone.

18'Her father is gone to the fire,Her brother to the whin,To kindle up a bold bonfire,To burn her body in.'

19'Go saddle to me the black,' he cried,'And do it very soon;Get unto me the swiftest horseThat ever rade from the town.'

20The first horse that he rade upon,For he was raven black,He bore him far, and very far,But failed in a slack.

21The next horse that he rode upon,He was a bonny brown;He bore him far, and very far,But did at last fall down.

22The next horse that he rode upon,He as the milk was white;Fair fall the mare that foaled that foalTook him to Janet's sight!

23And boots and spurs, all as he was,Into the fire he lap,Got one kiss of her comely mouth,While her body gave a crack.

24'O who has been so bold,' he says,'This bonfire to set on?Or who has been so bold,' he says,'Her body for to burn?'

25'O here are we,' her brother said,'This bonfire who set on;And we have been so bold,' he said,'Her body for to burn.'

26'O I'll cause burn for you, Janet,Your father and your mother;And I'll cause die for you, Janet,Your sister and your brother.

27'And I'll cause mony back be bare,And mony shed be thin,And mony wife be made a widow,And mony ane want their son.'

Motherwell's MS., p. 472.

1Ben came to her father dear,Stepping upon the floor;Says, It's told me, my daughter Janet,That you're now become a whore.2'A whore, father, a whore, father?That's what I'll never be,Tho I am with bairn to an English lord,That first did marry me.'3Soon after spoke her bower-woman,And sorely did she cry:'Oh woe is me, my lady fair,That ever I saw this day!4'For your father's to the fire, Janet,Your brother's to the whin,Even to kindle a bold bonefire,To burn your body in.'5'Where will I get a bonnie boy,Will win gold to his fee,That will run on to fair EnglandFor my good lord to me?'6'Oh here am I, your waiting-boy,Would win gold to my fee,And will carry any message for you,By land or yet by sea.'7And when he fand the bridges broke,He bent his bow and swam,But when he fand the grass growing,He slacked it and ran.8And when he came to that lord's gate,Stopt not to knock nor call,But set his bent bow to his breast,And lightly lap the wall.9And ere the porter was at the gateThe boy was in the hall,And in that noble lord's presenceHe on his knee did fall.10'O is my biggins broken?' he said,'Or is my towers won?Or is my lady lighter yet,Of daughter or of son?'11'Your biggins are not broken,' he said,'Nor is your towers won,Nor is your lady lighter yet,Of daughter or of son;But if you stay a little timeHer life it will be gone.12'For her father's gone to the fire,Her brother to the whin,Even to kindle a bold bonfire,To burn her body in.'13'Go saddle for me in haste,' he cried,'A brace of horses soon;Go saddle for me the swiftest steedsThat ever rode to a town.'14The first steed that he rade on,For he was as jet black,He rode him far, and very far,But he fell down in a slack.15The next steed that he rode on,He was a berry brown;He bore him far, and very far,But at the last fell down.16The next steed that he rode on,He was as milk so white;Fair fall the mare that foaled the foalTook him to Janet's lyke!17But boots and spurs, all as he was,Into the fire he lap,Took ae kiss of her comely mouth,While her body gave a crack.18'O who has been so bold,' he said,'This bonfire to set on?Or who has been so bold,' he cried,'My true-love for to burn?'19Her father cried, I've been so boldThis bonefire to put on;Her brother cried, We've been so boldHer body for to burn.20'Oh I shall hang for you, Janet,Your father and your brother;And I shall burn for you, Janet,Your sister and your mother.21'Oh I shall make many bed empty,And many shed be thin,And many a wife to be a widow,And many one want their son.22'Then I shall take a cloak of cloth,A staff made of the wand,And the boy who did your errand runShall be heir of my land.'

1Ben came to her father dear,Stepping upon the floor;Says, It's told me, my daughter Janet,That you're now become a whore.

2'A whore, father, a whore, father?That's what I'll never be,Tho I am with bairn to an English lord,That first did marry me.'

3Soon after spoke her bower-woman,And sorely did she cry:'Oh woe is me, my lady fair,That ever I saw this day!

4'For your father's to the fire, Janet,Your brother's to the whin,Even to kindle a bold bonefire,To burn your body in.'

5'Where will I get a bonnie boy,Will win gold to his fee,That will run on to fair EnglandFor my good lord to me?'

6'Oh here am I, your waiting-boy,Would win gold to my fee,And will carry any message for you,By land or yet by sea.'

7And when he fand the bridges broke,He bent his bow and swam,But when he fand the grass growing,He slacked it and ran.

8And when he came to that lord's gate,Stopt not to knock nor call,But set his bent bow to his breast,And lightly lap the wall.

9And ere the porter was at the gateThe boy was in the hall,And in that noble lord's presenceHe on his knee did fall.

10'O is my biggins broken?' he said,'Or is my towers won?Or is my lady lighter yet,Of daughter or of son?'

11'Your biggins are not broken,' he said,'Nor is your towers won,Nor is your lady lighter yet,Of daughter or of son;But if you stay a little timeHer life it will be gone.

12'For her father's gone to the fire,Her brother to the whin,Even to kindle a bold bonfire,To burn her body in.'

13'Go saddle for me in haste,' he cried,'A brace of horses soon;Go saddle for me the swiftest steedsThat ever rode to a town.'

14The first steed that he rade on,For he was as jet black,He rode him far, and very far,But he fell down in a slack.

15The next steed that he rode on,He was a berry brown;He bore him far, and very far,But at the last fell down.

16The next steed that he rode on,He was as milk so white;Fair fall the mare that foaled the foalTook him to Janet's lyke!

17But boots and spurs, all as he was,Into the fire he lap,Took ae kiss of her comely mouth,While her body gave a crack.

18'O who has been so bold,' he said,'This bonfire to set on?Or who has been so bold,' he cried,'My true-love for to burn?'

19Her father cried, I've been so boldThis bonefire to put on;Her brother cried, We've been so boldHer body for to burn.

20'Oh I shall hang for you, Janet,Your father and your brother;And I shall burn for you, Janet,Your sister and your mother.

21'Oh I shall make many bed empty,And many shed be thin,And many a wife to be a widow,And many one want their son.

22'Then I shall take a cloak of cloth,A staff made of the wand,And the boy who did your errand runShall be heir of my land.'

Campbell MSS, II, 70.

1Lady Margery was her mother's ain daughter,And her father's only heir,And she's away to Strawberry Castle,To learn some unco lair.2She hadna been in Strawberry CastleA year but only three,Till she has proved as big with child,As big as woman could be.3Word has to her father gone,As he pat on his shoon,That Lady Margery goes wi child,Unto some English loon.4Word has to her mother gane,As she pat on her gown,That Lady Margery goes wi child,Unto some English loon.5The father he likes her ill,The mother she likes her waur,But her father he wished her in a fire strang,To burn for ever mair.* * * * *6'Will ye hae this auld man, Lady Margery,To be yeer warldly make?Or will ye burn in fire strang,For your true lover's sake?'7'I wunna hae that old, old manTo be my worldly make,But I will burn in fire strang,For my true lover's sake.'8'O who will put of the pot?O who will put of the pan?And who will build a bale-fire,To burn her body in.'9The brother took of the pot,The sister took of the pan,And her mother builded a bold bale-fire,To burn her body in.10'O where will I get a bony boyThat will run my errand soon?That will run to Strawberry Castle,And tell my love to come soon?'11But then started up a little boy,Near to that lady's kin:'Often have I gane your errands, madam,But now it is time to rin.'12O when he came to Strawberry Castle,He tirled at the pin;There was nane sae ready as that lord himsellTo let the young body in.13'O is my towers broken?Or is my castle wone?Or is my lady Margery lighterOf a daughter or a son?'14'Your towers are not broken,Nor is your castle wone;But the fairest lady of a' the landFor thee this day does burn.'15'Go saddle for me the black, black horse,Go saddle to me the brown;Go saddle to me as swift a steedAs ever man rade on.'16They saddled to him the black horse,They saddled to him the brown;They've saddled to him as swift a steedAs ever man rade on.17He put his foot into the stirrup,He bounded for to ride;The silver buttons lap of his breast,And his nose began to bleed.18He bursted fifteen gude stout steeds,And four o them were dappled gray,And the little foot-page ran aye before,Crying, Mend it, an ye may!19When he came to the bale-fire,He lighted wi a glent,Wi black boots and clean spurs,And through the fire he went.20He laid ae arm about her neck,And the other beneath her chin;He thought to get a kiss o her,But her middle it gade in twain.21'But who has been so false,' he said,'And who has been sae cruel,To carry the timber from my ain woodTo burn my dearest jewel?22'But I'll burn for ye, Lady Margery,Yeer father and yeer mother;And I'll burn for ye, Lady Margery,Yeer sister and yeer brother.23'I'll do for ye, Lady Margery,What never was done for nane;I'll make many lady lemanless,And many a clothing thin.24'And I'll burn for yeer sake, Lady Margery,The town that yeer burnt in,And [make] many a baby fatherless,That's naething o the blame.'

1Lady Margery was her mother's ain daughter,And her father's only heir,And she's away to Strawberry Castle,To learn some unco lair.

2She hadna been in Strawberry CastleA year but only three,Till she has proved as big with child,As big as woman could be.

3Word has to her father gone,As he pat on his shoon,That Lady Margery goes wi child,Unto some English loon.

4Word has to her mother gane,As she pat on her gown,That Lady Margery goes wi child,Unto some English loon.

5The father he likes her ill,The mother she likes her waur,But her father he wished her in a fire strang,To burn for ever mair.

* * * * *

6'Will ye hae this auld man, Lady Margery,To be yeer warldly make?Or will ye burn in fire strang,For your true lover's sake?'

7'I wunna hae that old, old manTo be my worldly make,But I will burn in fire strang,For my true lover's sake.'

8'O who will put of the pot?O who will put of the pan?And who will build a bale-fire,To burn her body in.'

9The brother took of the pot,The sister took of the pan,And her mother builded a bold bale-fire,To burn her body in.

10'O where will I get a bony boyThat will run my errand soon?That will run to Strawberry Castle,And tell my love to come soon?'

11But then started up a little boy,Near to that lady's kin:'Often have I gane your errands, madam,But now it is time to rin.'

12O when he came to Strawberry Castle,He tirled at the pin;There was nane sae ready as that lord himsellTo let the young body in.

13'O is my towers broken?Or is my castle wone?Or is my lady Margery lighterOf a daughter or a son?'

14'Your towers are not broken,Nor is your castle wone;But the fairest lady of a' the landFor thee this day does burn.'

15'Go saddle for me the black, black horse,Go saddle to me the brown;Go saddle to me as swift a steedAs ever man rade on.'

16They saddled to him the black horse,They saddled to him the brown;They've saddled to him as swift a steedAs ever man rade on.

17He put his foot into the stirrup,He bounded for to ride;The silver buttons lap of his breast,And his nose began to bleed.

18He bursted fifteen gude stout steeds,And four o them were dappled gray,And the little foot-page ran aye before,Crying, Mend it, an ye may!

19When he came to the bale-fire,He lighted wi a glent,Wi black boots and clean spurs,And through the fire he went.

20He laid ae arm about her neck,And the other beneath her chin;He thought to get a kiss o her,But her middle it gade in twain.

21'But who has been so false,' he said,'And who has been sae cruel,To carry the timber from my ain woodTo burn my dearest jewel?

22'But I'll burn for ye, Lady Margery,Yeer father and yeer mother;And I'll burn for ye, Lady Margery,Yeer sister and yeer brother.

23'I'll do for ye, Lady Margery,What never was done for nane;I'll make many lady lemanless,And many a clothing thin.

24'And I'll burn for yeer sake, Lady Margery,The town that yeer burnt in,And [make] many a baby fatherless,That's naething o the blame.'

Motherwell's MS., p. 1, from the recitation of Mrs Thomson, Kilbarchan, February 25, 1825; Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 234.

1Lady Marjory was her mother's only daughter.Her father's only heir, OAnd she is awa to Strawberry Castle,To get some unco lair. O2She had na been in Strawberry CastleA twelve month and a day,Till Lady Marjory she gaes wi child,As big as she can gae.3Word is to her father gone,Before he got on his shoon,That Lady Marjory she gaes wi child,And it is to an Irish groom.4But word is to her mother gane,Before that she gat on her gown,That Lady Marjorie she goes wi child,To a lord of high renown.5'O wha will put on the pot?' they said,'Or wha will put on the pan?Or wha will put on a bauld, bauld fire,To burn Lady Marjorie in?'6Her father he put on the pot,Her sister put on the pan,And her brother he put on a bauld, bauld fire,To burn Lady Marjorie in;And her mother she sat in a golden chair,To see her daughter burn.7'But where will I get a pretty little boy,That will win hose and shoon,That will go quickly to Strawberry CastleAnd bid my lord come doun?'8'O here am I a pretty boy,That'll win hose and shoon,That will rin quickly to Strawberry Castle,And bid thy lord come doun.'9O when he came to broken brigs,He bent his bow and swam,And when he came to good dry land,He let down his foot and ran.10When he came to Strawberry Castle,He tirled at the pin;None was so ready as the gay lord himsellTo open and let him in.11'O is there any of my towers burnt?Or any of my castles broken?Or is Lady Marjorie brought to bed,Of a daughter or a son?'12'O there is nane of thy towers burnt,Nor nane of thy castles broken,But Lady Marjorie is condemned to die,To be burnt in a fire of oaken.'13'O gar saddle to me the black,' he said,'Gar saddle to me the brown;Gar saddle to me the swiftest steedThat eer carried a man from town.'14He left the black into the slap,The brown into the brae,But fair fa that bonny apple-grayThat carried this gay lord away!15He took a little horn out of his pocket,And he blew't both loud and shrill,And the little life that was in her,She hearkend to it full weel.16'Beet on, beet on, my brother dear,I value you not one straw,For yonder comes my own true-love,I hear his horn blaw.17'Beet on, beet on, my father dear,I value you not a pin,For yonder comes my own true-love,I hear his bridle ring.'18But when he came into the place,He lap unto the wa;He thought to get a kiss o her bonny lips,But her body fell in twa.19'Oh vow, oh vow, oh vow,' he said,'Oh vow but ye've been cruel!Ye've taken the timber out of my own woodAnd burnt my ain dear jewel.20'Now for thy sake, Lady Marjorie,I'll burn both father and mother;And for thy sake, Lady Marjorie,I'll burn both sister and brother.21'And for thy sake, Lady Marjorie,I'll burn both kith and kin;But I will remember the pretty little boyThat did thy errand rin.'

1Lady Marjory was her mother's only daughter.Her father's only heir, OAnd she is awa to Strawberry Castle,To get some unco lair. O

2She had na been in Strawberry CastleA twelve month and a day,Till Lady Marjory she gaes wi child,As big as she can gae.

3Word is to her father gone,Before he got on his shoon,That Lady Marjory she gaes wi child,And it is to an Irish groom.

4But word is to her mother gane,Before that she gat on her gown,That Lady Marjorie she goes wi child,To a lord of high renown.

5'O wha will put on the pot?' they said,'Or wha will put on the pan?Or wha will put on a bauld, bauld fire,To burn Lady Marjorie in?'

6Her father he put on the pot,Her sister put on the pan,And her brother he put on a bauld, bauld fire,To burn Lady Marjorie in;And her mother she sat in a golden chair,To see her daughter burn.

7'But where will I get a pretty little boy,That will win hose and shoon,That will go quickly to Strawberry CastleAnd bid my lord come doun?'

8'O here am I a pretty boy,That'll win hose and shoon,That will rin quickly to Strawberry Castle,And bid thy lord come doun.'

9O when he came to broken brigs,He bent his bow and swam,And when he came to good dry land,He let down his foot and ran.

10When he came to Strawberry Castle,He tirled at the pin;None was so ready as the gay lord himsellTo open and let him in.

11'O is there any of my towers burnt?Or any of my castles broken?Or is Lady Marjorie brought to bed,Of a daughter or a son?'

12'O there is nane of thy towers burnt,Nor nane of thy castles broken,But Lady Marjorie is condemned to die,To be burnt in a fire of oaken.'

13'O gar saddle to me the black,' he said,'Gar saddle to me the brown;Gar saddle to me the swiftest steedThat eer carried a man from town.'

14He left the black into the slap,The brown into the brae,But fair fa that bonny apple-grayThat carried this gay lord away!

15He took a little horn out of his pocket,And he blew't both loud and shrill,And the little life that was in her,She hearkend to it full weel.

16'Beet on, beet on, my brother dear,I value you not one straw,For yonder comes my own true-love,I hear his horn blaw.

17'Beet on, beet on, my father dear,I value you not a pin,For yonder comes my own true-love,I hear his bridle ring.'

18But when he came into the place,He lap unto the wa;He thought to get a kiss o her bonny lips,But her body fell in twa.

19'Oh vow, oh vow, oh vow,' he said,'Oh vow but ye've been cruel!Ye've taken the timber out of my own woodAnd burnt my ain dear jewel.

20'Now for thy sake, Lady Marjorie,I'll burn both father and mother;And for thy sake, Lady Marjorie,I'll burn both sister and brother.

21'And for thy sake, Lady Marjorie,I'll burn both kith and kin;But I will remember the pretty little boyThat did thy errand rin.'

The Scots [Edinburgh] Magazine, 1822, LXXXIX, 734, communicated by W. W.

1Fair Marjory's gaen into the school,Between six and seven,An she's come back richt big wi bairn,Between twalve and eleven.2It's out then sprung her mither dear,Stood stately on the flure:'Ye're welcum back, young Marjory,But ye're sune becum a hure.'3'I'm not a hure, mither,' she said,'Nor ever intend to be;But I'm wi child to a gentleman,An he swears he'll marry me.'4[It's out then sprung her father dear,Stood stately on the flure:'Ye're welcum back, young Marjory,But ye're sune becum a hure.'5'I'm not a hure, father,' she said,'Nor ever intend to be;But I'm wi child to a gentleman,An he swears he will marry me.'6It's out then sprung her brother dear,Stood stately on the flure:'Ye're welcum back, young Marjory,But ye're sune becum a hure.'7'I'm not a hure, brother,' she said,'Nor ever intend to be;But I'm wi child to a gentleman,An he swears he will marry me.'8It's out then sprung her sister dear,Stood stately on the flure:'Ye're welcum back, young Marjory,But ye're sune becum a hure.'9'I'm not a hure, sister,' she said,'Nor ever intend to be;]Ye're but a young woman, sister,An ye shuld speak sparinlie.'10Her father's to the grene-wude gaen,Her brither's to the brume;An her mither sits in her gowden chair,To see her dochter burn.* * * * *11. . . . . . .. . . . . . .The sister she culd do naething,And she sat down to greet.12'Oh whare will I get a bonny boy,That wull win hose an shoon,That wull rin to Strawberry Castle for me,And bid my true-love come?'13It's out than spak a bonny boy,That stude richt at her knee:'It's I wull rin your errand, ladie,Wi the saut tear i my ee.'14It's whan he cam to broken brigg,He bent his bow an swam,An whan he cam whare green grass grew,Set doon his feet an ran.15An whan he cam to Strawberry Castle,He thirled at the pin,An aye sae ready as the porter wasTo rise and let him in.* * * * *16'Gae saddle to me the black,' he says,'Gae saddle to me the broun;Gae saddle to me the swiftest steedThat eer set fute on grun.'17It's first he burst the bonny black,An syne the bonny broun,But the dapple-gray rade still away,Till he cam to the toun.18An aye he rade, an aye he rade,An aye away he flew,Till the siller buttons flew off his coat;He took out his horn an blew.19An aye he blew, an aye he blew,He blew baith loud an shrill,An the little life that Marjory had,She heard his horn blaw weel.20'Beik on, beik on, cruel mither,' she said,'For I value you not a straw;For if ever I heard my love in my life,He's comin here awa.'* * * * *21When he cam unto the flamesHe jamp in, butes and a';He thocht to hae kissd her red rosy lips,But her body broke in twa.* * * * *22I'll burn for thy sake, Marjory,The toun that thou lies in;An I'll mak the baby fatherless,For I'll throw mysel therein.

1Fair Marjory's gaen into the school,Between six and seven,An she's come back richt big wi bairn,Between twalve and eleven.

2It's out then sprung her mither dear,Stood stately on the flure:'Ye're welcum back, young Marjory,But ye're sune becum a hure.'

3'I'm not a hure, mither,' she said,'Nor ever intend to be;But I'm wi child to a gentleman,An he swears he'll marry me.'

4[It's out then sprung her father dear,Stood stately on the flure:'Ye're welcum back, young Marjory,But ye're sune becum a hure.'

5'I'm not a hure, father,' she said,'Nor ever intend to be;But I'm wi child to a gentleman,An he swears he will marry me.'

6It's out then sprung her brother dear,Stood stately on the flure:'Ye're welcum back, young Marjory,But ye're sune becum a hure.'

7'I'm not a hure, brother,' she said,'Nor ever intend to be;But I'm wi child to a gentleman,An he swears he will marry me.'

8It's out then sprung her sister dear,Stood stately on the flure:'Ye're welcum back, young Marjory,But ye're sune becum a hure.'

9'I'm not a hure, sister,' she said,'Nor ever intend to be;]Ye're but a young woman, sister,An ye shuld speak sparinlie.'

10Her father's to the grene-wude gaen,Her brither's to the brume;An her mither sits in her gowden chair,To see her dochter burn.

* * * * *

11. . . . . . .. . . . . . .The sister she culd do naething,And she sat down to greet.

12'Oh whare will I get a bonny boy,That wull win hose an shoon,That wull rin to Strawberry Castle for me,And bid my true-love come?'

13It's out than spak a bonny boy,That stude richt at her knee:'It's I wull rin your errand, ladie,Wi the saut tear i my ee.'

14It's whan he cam to broken brigg,He bent his bow an swam,An whan he cam whare green grass grew,Set doon his feet an ran.

15An whan he cam to Strawberry Castle,He thirled at the pin,An aye sae ready as the porter wasTo rise and let him in.

* * * * *

16'Gae saddle to me the black,' he says,'Gae saddle to me the broun;Gae saddle to me the swiftest steedThat eer set fute on grun.'

17It's first he burst the bonny black,An syne the bonny broun,But the dapple-gray rade still away,Till he cam to the toun.

18An aye he rade, an aye he rade,An aye away he flew,Till the siller buttons flew off his coat;He took out his horn an blew.

19An aye he blew, an aye he blew,He blew baith loud an shrill,An the little life that Marjory had,She heard his horn blaw weel.

20'Beik on, beik on, cruel mither,' she said,'For I value you not a straw;For if ever I heard my love in my life,He's comin here awa.'

* * * * *

21When he cam unto the flamesHe jamp in, butes and a';He thocht to hae kissd her red rosy lips,But her body broke in twa.

* * * * *

22I'll burn for thy sake, Marjory,The toun that thou lies in;An I'll mak the baby fatherless,For I'll throw mysel therein.

Notes and Queries, Second Series, IX, 193; communicated by A. J., Edinburgh, as learned by himself and an elder sister from an old washerwoman of East Dereham, Norfolk, in the early part of this century.

* * * * *1'My father was the first good manWho tied me to a stake;My mother was the first good womanWho did the fire make.2'My brother was the next good manWho did the fire fetch;My sister was the next good womanWho lighted it with a match.3'They blew the fire, they kindled the fire,Till it did reach my knee:"O mother, mother, quench the fire!The smoke will smother me."4'O had I but my little foot-page,My errand he would run;He would run unto gay London,And bid my lord come home.'5Then there stood by her sister's child,Her own dear sister's son:'O many an errand I've run for thee,And but this one I'll run.'6He ran, where the bridge was broken downHe bent his bow and swam;He swam till he came to the good green turf,He up on his feet and ran.7He ran till he came at his uncle's hall;His uncle sat at his meat:'Good mete, good mete, good uncle, I pray,O if you knew what I'd got to say,How little would you eat!'8'O is my castle broken down,Or is my tower won?Or is my gay lady brought o bed,Of a daughter or a son?'9'Your castle is not broken down,Your tower it is not won;Your gay lady is not brought to bed,Of a daughter or a son.10'But she has sent you a gay gold ring,With a posy round the rim,To know, if you have any love for her,You'll come to her burning.'11He called down his merry men all,By one, by two, by three;He mounted on his milk-white steed,To go to Margery.12They blew the fire, they kindled the fire,Till it did reach her head:'O mother, mother, quench the fire!For I am nearly dead.'13She turned her head on her left shoulder,Saw her girdle hang on the tree:'O God bless them that gave me that!They'll never give more to me.'14She turned her head on her right shoulder,Saw her lord come riding home:'O quench the fire, my dear mother!For I am nearly gone.'15He mounted off his milk-white steed,And into the fire he ran,Thinking to save his gay ladye,But he had staid too long.

* * * * *

1'My father was the first good manWho tied me to a stake;My mother was the first good womanWho did the fire make.

2'My brother was the next good manWho did the fire fetch;My sister was the next good womanWho lighted it with a match.

3'They blew the fire, they kindled the fire,Till it did reach my knee:"O mother, mother, quench the fire!The smoke will smother me."

4'O had I but my little foot-page,My errand he would run;He would run unto gay London,And bid my lord come home.'

5Then there stood by her sister's child,Her own dear sister's son:'O many an errand I've run for thee,And but this one I'll run.'

6He ran, where the bridge was broken downHe bent his bow and swam;He swam till he came to the good green turf,He up on his feet and ran.

7He ran till he came at his uncle's hall;His uncle sat at his meat:'Good mete, good mete, good uncle, I pray,O if you knew what I'd got to say,How little would you eat!'

8'O is my castle broken down,Or is my tower won?Or is my gay lady brought o bed,Of a daughter or a son?'

9'Your castle is not broken down,Your tower it is not won;Your gay lady is not brought to bed,Of a daughter or a son.

10'But she has sent you a gay gold ring,With a posy round the rim,To know, if you have any love for her,You'll come to her burning.'

11He called down his merry men all,By one, by two, by three;He mounted on his milk-white steed,To go to Margery.

12They blew the fire, they kindled the fire,Till it did reach her head:'O mother, mother, quench the fire!For I am nearly dead.'

13She turned her head on her left shoulder,Saw her girdle hang on the tree:'O God bless them that gave me that!They'll never give more to me.'

14She turned her head on her right shoulder,Saw her lord come riding home:'O quench the fire, my dear mother!For I am nearly gone.'

15He mounted off his milk-white steed,And into the fire he ran,Thinking to save his gay ladye,But he had staid too long.

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