C

Motherwell's MS., p. 357, from the recitation of Agnes Lyle, Kilbarchan.

1'If you do love me weel, Willie,Ye'll shew to me truelie;Ye'll build to me a bonnie ship,And set her on the sea.'2He did love her very weel,He shewed to her trulie;He builded her a bonnie ship,And set her on the sea.3They had not sailed one league, one league,One league but only three,Till sharp, sharp showers fair Janet took,She grew sick and like to die.4'If you do love me weel, Willie,Ye'll shew to me trulye;Ye'll tak me to my mother's bower,Whare I was wont to be.'5He did love her very weel,He shewed to her trulye;He took her to her mother's bower,Whare she was wont to be.6'It's ye'll stand up at my richt side,You will on tiptaes stand,Until you hear your auld son weep,But an your Janet mourn.7'Come take your auld son in your arms,He is both large and lang;Come take your auld son in your arms,And for a nourice gang.'8He is to his mother's bowers,An hour or it struck nine:'I have a babe into my arms,He'll die for nouricing.'9'Goe home, go home, my son,' she says,'And mak thy Jenny blythe;If ae nurse winna sere her son,It's I'll provide him five.'10Fair Janet was nae weel lichter,Nor weel doun on her side,Till ben and cam her father dear,Saying, Wha will busk our bride?11Ben and cam her brethren dear,Saying, Wha will busk our bride?And wha will saddle our bride's horse?Whom ahint will she ride?12'Hold your tongue, my brethren dear,And let your folly be,For I'm sae fair and full of hairSma busking will serve me.13'Hold your tongue, my brethren dear,And let your folly be,For I will ride behint William,He will best wait on me.14'Willie, lay the saddle saft,And lead the bridle soun,And when we come to Mary's Kirk,Ye'll set me hooly down.'15Supper scarslie was owre,Nor musick weel fa'n to,Till ben and cam the bride's brethren,Saying, Bride, ye'll dance wi me:'Awa, awa, my brethren dear,For dancing's no for me.'16Ben and came her ain bridegroom,Saying, Bride, ye'll dance wi me;She says, Awa, awa, ye southland dog,Your face I downa see.17Ben and cam then Sweet Willie,Saying, Bride, ye'll dance wi me:'Oh I will dance the floor once owre,Tho my heart should break in three.'18'Oh no, oh no,' said Sweet William,'Let no such things eer be;But I will cut my glove in two,And I'll dance for thee and me.'19She hadna danced the floor once owre,I'm sure she hadna thrice,Till she fell in a deadly swound,And from it neer did rise.20Out and spak her ain bridegroom,And an angry man was he:'This day she has gien me the geeks,Yet she must bear the scorn;There's not a bell in merry LinkumShall ring for her the morn.'21Out and spoke then Sweet William,And a sorry man was he:'Altho she has gien you the gecks,She will not bear the scorn;There's not a bell in merry LinkumBut shall ring for her the morn.'22There was not a bell in merry LinkumBut they tinkled and they rang,And a' the birds that flew above,They changed their notes and sang.

1'If you do love me weel, Willie,Ye'll shew to me truelie;Ye'll build to me a bonnie ship,And set her on the sea.'

2He did love her very weel,He shewed to her trulie;He builded her a bonnie ship,And set her on the sea.

3They had not sailed one league, one league,One league but only three,Till sharp, sharp showers fair Janet took,She grew sick and like to die.

4'If you do love me weel, Willie,Ye'll shew to me trulye;Ye'll tak me to my mother's bower,Whare I was wont to be.'

5He did love her very weel,He shewed to her trulye;He took her to her mother's bower,Whare she was wont to be.

6'It's ye'll stand up at my richt side,You will on tiptaes stand,Until you hear your auld son weep,But an your Janet mourn.

7'Come take your auld son in your arms,He is both large and lang;Come take your auld son in your arms,And for a nourice gang.'

8He is to his mother's bowers,An hour or it struck nine:'I have a babe into my arms,He'll die for nouricing.'

9'Goe home, go home, my son,' she says,'And mak thy Jenny blythe;If ae nurse winna sere her son,It's I'll provide him five.'

10Fair Janet was nae weel lichter,Nor weel doun on her side,Till ben and cam her father dear,Saying, Wha will busk our bride?

11Ben and cam her brethren dear,Saying, Wha will busk our bride?And wha will saddle our bride's horse?Whom ahint will she ride?

12'Hold your tongue, my brethren dear,And let your folly be,For I'm sae fair and full of hairSma busking will serve me.

13'Hold your tongue, my brethren dear,And let your folly be,For I will ride behint William,He will best wait on me.

14'Willie, lay the saddle saft,And lead the bridle soun,And when we come to Mary's Kirk,Ye'll set me hooly down.'

15Supper scarslie was owre,Nor musick weel fa'n to,Till ben and cam the bride's brethren,Saying, Bride, ye'll dance wi me:'Awa, awa, my brethren dear,For dancing's no for me.'

16Ben and came her ain bridegroom,Saying, Bride, ye'll dance wi me;She says, Awa, awa, ye southland dog,Your face I downa see.

17Ben and cam then Sweet Willie,Saying, Bride, ye'll dance wi me:'Oh I will dance the floor once owre,Tho my heart should break in three.'

18'Oh no, oh no,' said Sweet William,'Let no such things eer be;But I will cut my glove in two,And I'll dance for thee and me.'

19She hadna danced the floor once owre,I'm sure she hadna thrice,Till she fell in a deadly swound,And from it neer did rise.

20Out and spak her ain bridegroom,And an angry man was he:'This day she has gien me the geeks,Yet she must bear the scorn;There's not a bell in merry LinkumShall ring for her the morn.'

21Out and spoke then Sweet William,And a sorry man was he:'Altho she has gien you the gecks,She will not bear the scorn;There's not a bell in merry LinkumBut shall ring for her the morn.'

22There was not a bell in merry LinkumBut they tinkled and they rang,And a' the birds that flew above,They changed their notes and sang.

Herd's Scots Songs, 1769, p. 303: I, 162, ed. 1776.

1Livd ance twa luvers in yon dale,And they luvd ither weel;Frae evning late to morning aireOf luving luvd their fill.2'Now, Willie, gif you luve me weel,As sae it seems to me,Gar build, gar build a bonny schip,Gar build it speedilie.3'And we will sail the sea sae green,Unto some far countrie,Or we'll sail to some bonie isle,Stands lanely midst the sea.'4But lang or ere the schip was built,Or deckd, or rigged out,Came sick a pain in Annet's backThat down she coud na lout.5'Now, Willie, gif ye luve me weel,As sae it seems to me,O haste, haste, bring me to my bowr,And my bowr-maidens three.'6He's taen her in his arms twa,And kissd her, cheik and chin;He's brocht her to her ain sweet bowr,But nae bowr-maid was in.7'Now leave my bower, Willie,' she said,'Now leave me to my lane;Was nevir man in a lady's bowerWhen she was travelling.'8He's stepped three steps down the stair,Upon the marble stane;Sae loud's he heard his young son's greet,But and his lady's mane!9'Now come, now come, Willie,' she said,'Tak your young son frae me,And hie him to your mother's bower,With speed and privacie.'10He's taen his young son in his arms,He's kissd him, cheik and chin;He's hied him to his mother's bower,By th' ae light of the moon.11And with him came the bold barone,And he spake up wi pride:'Gar seek, gar seek the bower-maidens,Gar busk, gar busk the bryde.'12'My maidens, easy with my back,And easy with my side;O set my saddle saft, Willie,I am a tender bryde.'13When she came to the burrow-town,They gied her a broch and ring,And when she came to...,They had a fair wedding.14O up then spake the norland lord,And blinkit wi his ee:'I trow this lady's born a bairn,'Then laucht loud lauchters three.15And up then spake the brisk bridegroom,And he spake up wi pryde:'Gin I should pawn my wedding-gloves,I will dance wi the bryde.'16'Now had your tongue, my lord,' she said,'Wi dancing let me be;I am sae thin in flesh and blude,Sma dancing will serve me.'17But she's taen Willie be the hand,The tear blinded her ee:'But I wad dance wi my true-luve,But bursts my heart in three.'18She's taen her bracelet frae her arm,Her garter frae her knee:'Gie that, gie that to my young son,He'll neer his mother see.'* * * * *19'Gar deal, gar deal the bread, mother,Gar deal, gar deal the wyne;This day hath seen my true-love's death,This nicht shall witness myne.'

1Livd ance twa luvers in yon dale,And they luvd ither weel;Frae evning late to morning aireOf luving luvd their fill.

2'Now, Willie, gif you luve me weel,As sae it seems to me,Gar build, gar build a bonny schip,Gar build it speedilie.

3'And we will sail the sea sae green,Unto some far countrie,Or we'll sail to some bonie isle,Stands lanely midst the sea.'

4But lang or ere the schip was built,Or deckd, or rigged out,Came sick a pain in Annet's backThat down she coud na lout.

5'Now, Willie, gif ye luve me weel,As sae it seems to me,O haste, haste, bring me to my bowr,And my bowr-maidens three.'

6He's taen her in his arms twa,And kissd her, cheik and chin;He's brocht her to her ain sweet bowr,But nae bowr-maid was in.

7'Now leave my bower, Willie,' she said,'Now leave me to my lane;Was nevir man in a lady's bowerWhen she was travelling.'

8He's stepped three steps down the stair,Upon the marble stane;Sae loud's he heard his young son's greet,But and his lady's mane!

9'Now come, now come, Willie,' she said,'Tak your young son frae me,And hie him to your mother's bower,With speed and privacie.'

10He's taen his young son in his arms,He's kissd him, cheik and chin;He's hied him to his mother's bower,By th' ae light of the moon.

11And with him came the bold barone,And he spake up wi pride:'Gar seek, gar seek the bower-maidens,Gar busk, gar busk the bryde.'

12'My maidens, easy with my back,And easy with my side;O set my saddle saft, Willie,I am a tender bryde.'

13When she came to the burrow-town,They gied her a broch and ring,And when she came to...,They had a fair wedding.

14O up then spake the norland lord,And blinkit wi his ee:'I trow this lady's born a bairn,'Then laucht loud lauchters three.

15And up then spake the brisk bridegroom,And he spake up wi pryde:'Gin I should pawn my wedding-gloves,I will dance wi the bryde.'

16'Now had your tongue, my lord,' she said,'Wi dancing let me be;I am sae thin in flesh and blude,Sma dancing will serve me.'

17But she's taen Willie be the hand,The tear blinded her ee:'But I wad dance wi my true-luve,But bursts my heart in three.'

18She's taen her bracelet frae her arm,Her garter frae her knee:'Gie that, gie that to my young son,He'll neer his mother see.'

* * * * *

19'Gar deal, gar deal the bread, mother,Gar deal, gar deal the wyne;This day hath seen my true-love's death,This nicht shall witness myne.'

Motherwell's MS., p. 271, "from Margery Johnston, who had it of her grand-aunt, a very old woman."

* * * * *1'It never was my mother's fashion,As little will 't be mine,For to hae gay lords within my roomWhen ladies are travailing.'2Lord William was scarsely down the stair,A step but only ane,Till he heard his auld son gie a cry,And his lady a heavy maen.3'Turn back, turn back, Lord William,' she says,'Take thy auld son in thy coat-neuk,And see and reach thy mother's bowersTwa hours before day comes.'4He's awa wi his auld son in his coat-neuk,As fast as he can run,And there he's reached his mother's bowers,Twa hours before day came.5'O rise, O rise, my mother dear,O rise and let me in,For I've my auld son in my coat-neuk,And he shivers at the chin.'6'Ye're welcome hame to me, Lord William,And so is thy auld son;It's where ye had but ae nourice,Thy auld son he'll hae four.'7His lady was scarsely in her bed,Nor well faln owre asleep,When four and twenty knights and lordsCame for the bride at last.8They dressed her up, they dressed her down,They dressed her wondrous fine,And just before her ain bedsideShe lost her colour clean.9'Be hooly wi my head, maidens,Be hooly wi my hair,For it was washen late last night,And now it's very sair.'10Out then spoke a southern lord,And oh but he spak bauld:'She is the likest that bore a childThat eer my eyes did see.'11Up then spak her auld, auld father,And oh he spoke in time:'She neer bore a child since her birthExcept it was yestreen.'12Out then spoke a northern lord:'It's bride, will ye dance wi me?''Oh no, oh no, you northland lord,It's dancing's no for me.'13Out then spoke a southland lord:'It's bride, will ye dance wi me?''Oh no, oh no, you southland lord,I would as lief chuse to die.'14Out then spoke her ain bridegroom:'O bride, will ye dance wi me?''Oh no, oh no, my ain bridegroom,It's dancing's no for me.'15Out then spoke her ain Willy,And oh he spoke fu fine:'O bride, O bride, will ye dance wi me,'. . . . . . .16'Oh yes, oh yes, Willie,' she said,'It's I will dance with thee;Oh yes, I'll dance, dear Willie,' she said,'Tho my back it gaes in three.'17She leaned her head on Willie's breast,And her back unto the wa:'O there's the key of my coffer,And pay weel the nouriss fee,And aye when ye look on your auld son,Ye may aye think on me.'

* * * * *

1'It never was my mother's fashion,As little will 't be mine,For to hae gay lords within my roomWhen ladies are travailing.'

2Lord William was scarsely down the stair,A step but only ane,Till he heard his auld son gie a cry,And his lady a heavy maen.

3'Turn back, turn back, Lord William,' she says,'Take thy auld son in thy coat-neuk,And see and reach thy mother's bowersTwa hours before day comes.'

4He's awa wi his auld son in his coat-neuk,As fast as he can run,And there he's reached his mother's bowers,Twa hours before day came.

5'O rise, O rise, my mother dear,O rise and let me in,For I've my auld son in my coat-neuk,And he shivers at the chin.'

6'Ye're welcome hame to me, Lord William,And so is thy auld son;It's where ye had but ae nourice,Thy auld son he'll hae four.'

7His lady was scarsely in her bed,Nor well faln owre asleep,When four and twenty knights and lordsCame for the bride at last.

8They dressed her up, they dressed her down,They dressed her wondrous fine,And just before her ain bedsideShe lost her colour clean.

9'Be hooly wi my head, maidens,Be hooly wi my hair,For it was washen late last night,And now it's very sair.'

10Out then spoke a southern lord,And oh but he spak bauld:'She is the likest that bore a childThat eer my eyes did see.'

11Up then spak her auld, auld father,And oh he spoke in time:'She neer bore a child since her birthExcept it was yestreen.'

12Out then spoke a northern lord:'It's bride, will ye dance wi me?''Oh no, oh no, you northland lord,It's dancing's no for me.'

13Out then spoke a southland lord:'It's bride, will ye dance wi me?''Oh no, oh no, you southland lord,I would as lief chuse to die.'

14Out then spoke her ain bridegroom:'O bride, will ye dance wi me?''Oh no, oh no, my ain bridegroom,It's dancing's no for me.'

15Out then spoke her ain Willy,And oh he spoke fu fine:'O bride, O bride, will ye dance wi me,'. . . . . . .

16'Oh yes, oh yes, Willie,' she said,'It's I will dance with thee;Oh yes, I'll dance, dear Willie,' she said,'Tho my back it gaes in three.'

17She leaned her head on Willie's breast,And her back unto the wa:'O there's the key of my coffer,And pay weel the nouriss fee,And aye when ye look on your auld son,Ye may aye think on me.'

Kinloch MSS, V, 283, II, 41, from Mary Barr, Clydesdale.

1Willie and Fair JanetSat a' day on yon hill;And Janet she took sair pains,And O but she grew ill.2'Fetch a woman to me, Willie,O fetch a woman to me,For without the help of woman, Willie,Surely I will dee.'3'O tie a napkin on my face,That naething I may see,And what can a woman do, Janet,But I will do for thee?'* * * * *4She was na scarcely brought to bed,Nor yet laid on her side,Till in and cam her father there,Crying, Fy, gae busk the bride.5'A wearyed bride am I, father,A wearyed bride am I;Must I gae wed that southlan lord,And let Sweet Willie abe?'* * * * *6'Now chuse, now chuse now, Fair Janet,What shall your cleeding be;Now chuse, now chuse now, Fair Janet,And I will gie it to thee.7'Whether will you hae it of the berry brown,Or of the holland green;Or will you hae it of the crimson red,Most lovely to be seen?'8'I will not hae't of the berry brown,Nor yet o the holly green;But I will hae't of the crimson red,Most lovely to be seen.'9'Now chuse, now chuse now, Fair Janet,What man you'll ride behind:''O wha sae fitting as Sweet Willie?He'll fit my saddle fine.'10O they rode on, and they rode on,Till they cam to Merrytown green;But Sweet Willie and Fair JanetCam aye hoolie ahin.11O whan they cam to Merrytown,And lighted on the green,Monie a bluidy aith was swornThat our bride was wi bairn.12Out and spake the bonny bride,And she swore by her fingers ten:'If eer I was wi bairn in my life,I was lighter sin yestreen.'13Up and raise he the bridegroom,Says, Bride, will ye dance wi me?'Dance on, dance on, bridegroom,' she says,'For I'll dance nane wi thee.'14Up and raise her father then,Says, Bride, will ye dance wi me?'Dance on, my father,' she replied,'I pray thee let me be.'15Then up and raise he Sweet Willie,And he had meikle pride:'I'll lay my gloves in the bride's han,And I'll dance for the bride.'16'O no, O no, O Sweet Willie,O no, that shall na be;For I will dance wi thee, Willie,Tho my back should fa in three.'17She had na run a reel, a reel,A reel but barely three,Till pale and wan grew Fair Janet,And her head took Willie's knee.18Out and spake then the bridegroom,And he spake wi great scorn:'There's not a bell in Merrytown kirkShall ring for her the morn.'19Out and spak he Sweet Willie,And his heart was almost gane:''Tis a the bells in Merrytown kirkShall ring for her the morn.'20Willie was buried in Mary's kirk,etc., etc., etc.

1Willie and Fair JanetSat a' day on yon hill;And Janet she took sair pains,And O but she grew ill.

2'Fetch a woman to me, Willie,O fetch a woman to me,For without the help of woman, Willie,Surely I will dee.'

3'O tie a napkin on my face,That naething I may see,And what can a woman do, Janet,But I will do for thee?'

* * * * *

4She was na scarcely brought to bed,Nor yet laid on her side,Till in and cam her father there,Crying, Fy, gae busk the bride.

5'A wearyed bride am I, father,A wearyed bride am I;Must I gae wed that southlan lord,And let Sweet Willie abe?'

* * * * *

6'Now chuse, now chuse now, Fair Janet,What shall your cleeding be;Now chuse, now chuse now, Fair Janet,And I will gie it to thee.

7'Whether will you hae it of the berry brown,Or of the holland green;Or will you hae it of the crimson red,Most lovely to be seen?'

8'I will not hae't of the berry brown,Nor yet o the holly green;But I will hae't of the crimson red,Most lovely to be seen.'

9'Now chuse, now chuse now, Fair Janet,What man you'll ride behind:''O wha sae fitting as Sweet Willie?He'll fit my saddle fine.'

10O they rode on, and they rode on,Till they cam to Merrytown green;But Sweet Willie and Fair JanetCam aye hoolie ahin.

11O whan they cam to Merrytown,And lighted on the green,Monie a bluidy aith was swornThat our bride was wi bairn.

12Out and spake the bonny bride,And she swore by her fingers ten:'If eer I was wi bairn in my life,I was lighter sin yestreen.'

13Up and raise he the bridegroom,Says, Bride, will ye dance wi me?'Dance on, dance on, bridegroom,' she says,'For I'll dance nane wi thee.'

14Up and raise her father then,Says, Bride, will ye dance wi me?'Dance on, my father,' she replied,'I pray thee let me be.'

15Then up and raise he Sweet Willie,And he had meikle pride:'I'll lay my gloves in the bride's han,And I'll dance for the bride.'

16'O no, O no, O Sweet Willie,O no, that shall na be;For I will dance wi thee, Willie,Tho my back should fa in three.'

17She had na run a reel, a reel,A reel but barely three,Till pale and wan grew Fair Janet,And her head took Willie's knee.

18Out and spake then the bridegroom,And he spake wi great scorn:'There's not a bell in Merrytown kirkShall ring for her the morn.'

19Out and spak he Sweet Willie,And his heart was almost gane:''Tis a the bells in Merrytown kirkShall ring for her the morn.'

20Willie was buried in Mary's kirk,etc., etc., etc.

Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 97; Motherwell's MS., p. 606.

1Hey, love Willie, and how, love Willie,And Willie my love shall be;They're thinking to sinder our lang love, Willie;It's mair than man can dee.2'Ye'll mount me quickly on a steed,A milk-white steed or gray,And carry me on to gude greenwood,Before that it be day.'3He mounted her upon a steed,He chose a steed o gray;He had her on to gude greenwood,Before that it was day.4'O will ye gang to the cards, Meggie?Or will ye gang wi me?Or will ye hae a bower-woman,To stay ere it be day?'5'I winna gang to the cards,' she said,'Nor will I gae wi thee,Nor will I hae a bower-woman,To spoil my modestie.6'Ye'll gie me a lady at my back,An a lady me beforn,An a midwife at my twa sides,Till your young son be born.7'Ye'll do me up, and further up,To the top o yon greenwood tree;For every pain myself shall hae,The same pain ye maun drie.'8The first pain that did strike Sweet Willie,It was into the side;Then sighing sair said Sweet Willie,These pains are ill to bide!9The nextan pain that strake Sweet Willie,It was into the back;Then sighing sair said Sweet Willie,These pains are women's wreck!10The nextan pain that strake Sweet Willie,It was into the head;Then sighing sair said Sweet Willie,I fear my lady's dead!11Then he's gane on, and further on,At the foot o yon greenwood tree;There he got his lady lighter,Wi his young son on her knee.12Then he's taen up his little young son,And kissd him, cheek and chin,And he is on to his mother,As fast as he could gang.13'Ye will take in my son, mother,Gie him to nurses nine;Three to wauk, and three to sleep,And three to gang between.'14Then he has left his mother's house,And frae her he has gane,And he is back to his lady,And safely brought her hame.15Then in it came her father dear,Was belted in a brand:'It's nae time for brides to lye in bed,When the bridegroom 's send 's in town.16'There are four-and-twenty noble lordsA' lighted on the green;The fairest knight amang them a',He must be your bridegroom.'17'O wha will shoe my foot, my foot?And wha will glove my hand?And wha will prin my sma middle,Wi the short prin and the lang?'18Now out it speaks him Sweet Willie,Who knew her troubles best:'It is my duty for to serve,As I'm come here as guest.19'Now I will shoe your foot, Maisry,And I will glove your hand,And I will prin your sma middle,Wi the sma prin and the lang.'20'Wha will saddle my steed,' she says,'And gar my bridle ring?And wha will hae me to gude church-door,This day I'm ill abound?'21'I will saddle your steed, Maisry,And gar your bridle ring,And I'll hae you to gude church-door,And safely set you down.'22'O healy, healy take me up,And healy set me down,And set my back until a wa,My foot to yird-fast stane.'23He healy took her frae her horse,And healy set her down,And set her back until a wa,Her foot to yird-fast stane.24When they had eaten and well drunken,And a' had thornd fine,The bride's father he took the cup,For to serve out the wine.25Out it speaks the bridegroom's brother,An ill death mat he die!'I fear our bride she's born a bairn,Or else has it a dee.'26She's taen out a Bible braid,And deeply has she sworn;'If I hae born a bairn,' she says,'Sin yesterday at morn,27'Or if I've born a bairn,' she says,'Sin yesterday at noon,There's nae a lady amang you a'That woud been here sae soon.'28Then out it spake the bridegroom's man,Mischance come ower his heel!'Win up, win up, now bride,' he says,'And dance a shamefu reel.'29Then out it speaks the bride hersell,And a sorry heart had she:'Is there nae ane amang you a'Will dance this dance for me?'30Then out it speaks him Sweet Willie,And he spake aye thro pride:'O draw my boots for me, bridegroom,Or I dance for your bride.'31Then out it spake the bride hersell:O na, this maunna be;For I will dance this dance mysell,Tho my back shoud gang in three.32She hadna well gane thro the reel,Nor yet well on the green,Till she fell down at Willie's feetAs cauld as ony stane.33He's taen her in his arms twa,And haed her up the stair;Then up it came her jolly bridegroom,Says, What's your business there?34Then Willie lifted up his foot,And dang him down the stair,And brake three ribs o the bridegroom's side,And a word he spake nae mair.35Nae meen was made for that lady,When she was lying dead;But a' was for him Sweet Willie,On the fields for he ran mad.

1Hey, love Willie, and how, love Willie,And Willie my love shall be;They're thinking to sinder our lang love, Willie;It's mair than man can dee.

2'Ye'll mount me quickly on a steed,A milk-white steed or gray,And carry me on to gude greenwood,Before that it be day.'

3He mounted her upon a steed,He chose a steed o gray;He had her on to gude greenwood,Before that it was day.

4'O will ye gang to the cards, Meggie?Or will ye gang wi me?Or will ye hae a bower-woman,To stay ere it be day?'

5'I winna gang to the cards,' she said,'Nor will I gae wi thee,Nor will I hae a bower-woman,To spoil my modestie.

6'Ye'll gie me a lady at my back,An a lady me beforn,An a midwife at my twa sides,Till your young son be born.

7'Ye'll do me up, and further up,To the top o yon greenwood tree;For every pain myself shall hae,The same pain ye maun drie.'

8The first pain that did strike Sweet Willie,It was into the side;Then sighing sair said Sweet Willie,These pains are ill to bide!

9The nextan pain that strake Sweet Willie,It was into the back;Then sighing sair said Sweet Willie,These pains are women's wreck!

10The nextan pain that strake Sweet Willie,It was into the head;Then sighing sair said Sweet Willie,I fear my lady's dead!

11Then he's gane on, and further on,At the foot o yon greenwood tree;There he got his lady lighter,Wi his young son on her knee.

12Then he's taen up his little young son,And kissd him, cheek and chin,And he is on to his mother,As fast as he could gang.

13'Ye will take in my son, mother,Gie him to nurses nine;Three to wauk, and three to sleep,And three to gang between.'

14Then he has left his mother's house,And frae her he has gane,And he is back to his lady,And safely brought her hame.

15Then in it came her father dear,Was belted in a brand:'It's nae time for brides to lye in bed,When the bridegroom 's send 's in town.

16'There are four-and-twenty noble lordsA' lighted on the green;The fairest knight amang them a',He must be your bridegroom.'

17'O wha will shoe my foot, my foot?And wha will glove my hand?And wha will prin my sma middle,Wi the short prin and the lang?'

18Now out it speaks him Sweet Willie,Who knew her troubles best:'It is my duty for to serve,As I'm come here as guest.

19'Now I will shoe your foot, Maisry,And I will glove your hand,And I will prin your sma middle,Wi the sma prin and the lang.'

20'Wha will saddle my steed,' she says,'And gar my bridle ring?And wha will hae me to gude church-door,This day I'm ill abound?'

21'I will saddle your steed, Maisry,And gar your bridle ring,And I'll hae you to gude church-door,And safely set you down.'

22'O healy, healy take me up,And healy set me down,And set my back until a wa,My foot to yird-fast stane.'

23He healy took her frae her horse,And healy set her down,And set her back until a wa,Her foot to yird-fast stane.

24When they had eaten and well drunken,And a' had thornd fine,The bride's father he took the cup,For to serve out the wine.

25Out it speaks the bridegroom's brother,An ill death mat he die!'I fear our bride she's born a bairn,Or else has it a dee.'

26She's taen out a Bible braid,And deeply has she sworn;'If I hae born a bairn,' she says,'Sin yesterday at morn,

27'Or if I've born a bairn,' she says,'Sin yesterday at noon,There's nae a lady amang you a'That woud been here sae soon.'

28Then out it spake the bridegroom's man,Mischance come ower his heel!'Win up, win up, now bride,' he says,'And dance a shamefu reel.'

29Then out it speaks the bride hersell,And a sorry heart had she:'Is there nae ane amang you a'Will dance this dance for me?'

30Then out it speaks him Sweet Willie,And he spake aye thro pride:'O draw my boots for me, bridegroom,Or I dance for your bride.'

31Then out it spake the bride hersell:O na, this maunna be;For I will dance this dance mysell,Tho my back shoud gang in three.

32She hadna well gane thro the reel,Nor yet well on the green,Till she fell down at Willie's feetAs cauld as ony stane.

33He's taen her in his arms twa,And haed her up the stair;Then up it came her jolly bridegroom,Says, What's your business there?

34Then Willie lifted up his foot,And dang him down the stair,And brake three ribs o the bridegroom's side,And a word he spake nae mair.

35Nae meen was made for that lady,When she was lying dead;But a' was for him Sweet Willie,On the fields for he ran mad.

Finlay's Scottish Ballads, II, 61.

1'Will you marry the southland lord,A queen of fair England to be?Or will you burn for Sweet Willie,The morn upon yon lea?'2'I will marry the southland lord,Father, sen it is your will;But I'd rather it were my burial-day,For my grave I'm going till.3'O go, O go now, my bower-wife,O go now hastilie,O go now to Sweet Willie's bower,And bid him cum speak to me.'* * * * *4And he is to his mother's bower,As fast as he could rin:'Open, open, my mother dear,Open, and let me in.5'For the rain rains on my yellow hair,The dew stands on my chin,And I have something in my lap,And I wad fain be in.'6'O go, O go now, Sweet Willie,And make your lady blithe,For wherever you had ae nourice,Your young son shall hae five.'7Out spak Annet's mother dear,An she spak a word o' pride;Says, Whare is a' our bride's maidens,They're no busking the bride?8'O haud your tongue, my mother dear,Your speaking let it be,For I'm sae fair and full o fleshLittle busking will serve me.'9Out an spak the bride's maidens,They spak a word o pride;Says, Whare is a' the fine cleiding?It's we maun busk the bride.10'Deal hooly wi my head, maidens,Deal hooly wi my hair;For it was washen late yestreen,And it is wonder sair.'* * * * *11And Willie swore a great, great oath,And he swore by the thorn,That she was as free o a child that nightAs the night that she was born.12'Ye hae gien me the gowk, Annet,But I'll gie you the scorn;For there's no a bell in a' the townShall ring for you the morn.'13Out and spak then Sweet Willie:Sae loud's I hear you lie!There's no a bell in a' the townBut shall ring for Annet and me.* * * * *

1'Will you marry the southland lord,A queen of fair England to be?Or will you burn for Sweet Willie,The morn upon yon lea?'

2'I will marry the southland lord,Father, sen it is your will;But I'd rather it were my burial-day,For my grave I'm going till.

3'O go, O go now, my bower-wife,O go now hastilie,O go now to Sweet Willie's bower,And bid him cum speak to me.'

* * * * *

4And he is to his mother's bower,As fast as he could rin:'Open, open, my mother dear,Open, and let me in.

5'For the rain rains on my yellow hair,The dew stands on my chin,And I have something in my lap,And I wad fain be in.'

6'O go, O go now, Sweet Willie,And make your lady blithe,For wherever you had ae nourice,Your young son shall hae five.'

7Out spak Annet's mother dear,An she spak a word o' pride;Says, Whare is a' our bride's maidens,They're no busking the bride?

8'O haud your tongue, my mother dear,Your speaking let it be,For I'm sae fair and full o fleshLittle busking will serve me.'

9Out an spak the bride's maidens,They spak a word o pride;Says, Whare is a' the fine cleiding?It's we maun busk the bride.

10'Deal hooly wi my head, maidens,Deal hooly wi my hair;For it was washen late yestreen,And it is wonder sair.'

* * * * *

11And Willie swore a great, great oath,And he swore by the thorn,That she was as free o a child that nightAs the night that she was born.

12'Ye hae gien me the gowk, Annet,But I'll gie you the scorn;For there's no a bell in a' the townShall ring for you the morn.'

13Out and spak then Sweet Willie:Sae loud's I hear you lie!There's no a bell in a' the townBut shall ring for Annet and me.

* * * * *

The copy in Kinloch MSS, II, 41, has been revised by Mr Kinloch. His more important changes are as follows:11. Sweet Willie.13. took in labor-pains.21. Gae fetch.23. For but.24. It's surely.33. And what a woman can do, Janet.34. That I.44. Says, Fy.61, 3. now chuse thee, Fair Janet.72, 82. hollin.102, 111, 183, 193. Marytoun.104. Cam riding.121. Then out.144. ye let me abee.181. the bridegroom then.191. But out.192. His heart.

The copy in Kinloch MSS, II, 41, has been revised by Mr Kinloch. His more important changes are as follows:

11. Sweet Willie.

13. took in labor-pains.

21. Gae fetch.

23. For but.

24. It's surely.

33. And what a woman can do, Janet.

34. That I.

44. Says, Fy.

61, 3. now chuse thee, Fair Janet.

72, 82. hollin.

102, 111, 183, 193. Marytoun.

104. Cam riding.

121. Then out.

144. ye let me abee.

181. the bridegroom then.

191. But out.

192. His heart.

20.Fair Janet was buried in Mary's kirk,Sweet Willie in Mary's quier,And out o the tane there sprang a rose,Out o the tither a brier.21.And aye they grew, and aye they threw,Till thae twa they did meet,That ilka ane might plainly seeThey war twa lovers sweet.

20.Fair Janet was buried in Mary's kirk,Sweet Willie in Mary's quier,And out o the tane there sprang a rose,Out o the tither a brier.

21.And aye they grew, and aye they threw,Till thae twa they did meet,That ilka ane might plainly seeThey war twa lovers sweet.

13.Var.mourn for.11, in Finlay, follows 13. Fourteen stanzas, taken fromC, have been omitted.

FOOTNOTES:[84]She bids Willie leave her bower while she is in travail,C7; in default of bower-woman, Willie offers to bandage his eyes and do a woman's part,E3, after which a stanza is doubtless lost, in which man's aid would be rejected: cf. No 15, I, 182.Fhas a strange passage, 6-10 (belonging, perhaps, to 'Leesome Brand'), in which the lady, after asking that she may have the attendance of three women, selects the top of a tree for her labor, and informs Willie that he will have to drie every pain that she herself has, which experience duly follows.[85]DanishEis translated by Prior, II, 99.[86]La Fidanzata Infedele, Nigra, Rivista Contemporanea, XXXI, 21, and 'L'adultera,' Ferraro, Canti p. monferrini, p. 5, are the same ballad as the Breton, but the dance is not proposed in these.

[84]She bids Willie leave her bower while she is in travail,C7; in default of bower-woman, Willie offers to bandage his eyes and do a woman's part,E3, after which a stanza is doubtless lost, in which man's aid would be rejected: cf. No 15, I, 182.Fhas a strange passage, 6-10 (belonging, perhaps, to 'Leesome Brand'), in which the lady, after asking that she may have the attendance of three women, selects the top of a tree for her labor, and informs Willie that he will have to drie every pain that she herself has, which experience duly follows.

[85]DanishEis translated by Prior, II, 99.

[86]La Fidanzata Infedele, Nigra, Rivista Contemporanea, XXXI, 21, and 'L'adultera,' Ferraro, Canti p. monferrini, p. 5, are the same ballad as the Breton, but the dance is not proposed in these.

A.'Lady Maisry,' Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 24; Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 73.B.Motherwell's MS., p. 422, communicated by Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe.C.'Janet,' Motherwell's MS., p. 472.D.'Lady Margery,' Campbell MSS, II, 70.E.'Lady Marjory,' Motherwell's MS., p. 1; Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 234.F.The Scots [Edinburgh] Magazine, 1822, LXXXIX 734.G.Notes and Queries, Second Series, IX, 193.H.'Young Prince James,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 103.I. a.'Bonnie Susie Cleland,' Motherwell's MS., p. 235, Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 221.b.'Susie Cleland,' Motherwell's MS., p. 179.c.'Susie Cleland,' Motherwell's MS., p. 181.

A.'Lady Maisry,' Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 24; Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 73.

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

C.'Janet,' Motherwell's MS., p. 472.

D.'Lady Margery,' Campbell MSS, II, 70.

E.'Lady Marjory,' Motherwell's MS., p. 1; Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 234.

F.The Scots [Edinburgh] Magazine, 1822, LXXXIX 734.

G.Notes and Queries, Second Series, IX, 193.

H.'Young Prince James,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 103.

I. a.'Bonnie Susie Cleland,' Motherwell's MS., p. 235, Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 221.b.'Susie Cleland,' Motherwell's MS., p. 179.c.'Susie Cleland,' Motherwell's MS., p. 181.

Awas No 12 in William Tytler's Brown manuscript, and stanzas 1, 21, 22, of that copy are cited by Anderson in his letter to Percy, Nichols's Illustrations, VII, 177. Jamieson, who made a few changes in printing from his manuscript, attributes, by an oversight, the ballad to Mrs Arrot: compare Popular Ballads, I, pp 66 and 59. His copy is repeated by Motherwell, p. 71.C, of which no account is given by Motherwell, is hardly more than a variety ofB. There is a copy in the Abbotsford manuscript, "Scottish Songs," which is more considerably tampered with, in the way of change, omission, and insertion.[87]

All the versions are in accord as to the material points of the story. Lady Maisry rejects the suit of all the lords in the north country,A; she has given her love to an English lord. Her lover's seat is Strawberry Castle,D,E,F; Adam's Tower,H; he lives at London,G. Maisry has been at Strawberry Castle for a time, and has there learned some unco lair,D,E.[88]It is discovered that Maisry goes with bairn. Her brother,A,H, father,I, informed to this effect, requires her to renounce her English lord, but she refuses; her father offers her the choice of marrying an auld man or burning,D. In the other versions the family set about preparations for burning her without attempting any arrangement. Maisry, warned of her approaching fate, calls for a boy to carry word to England, and a light-footed and heartily devoted young messenger takes her errand. The English lord asks if his biggins are broken, his towers won, or is his lady lighter, and is told that his lady is to be burnt for him that very day. Horses are instantly saddled: a black, a brown, are foundered, a milk-white [a dapple-gray], fair fall the mare that foaled that foal! holds out,B,C,E,F. InDfifteen stout steeds are burst, yet the little foot-page runs aye before, crying, Mend your pace an you may! Maisry, in the flames, hears her lover's horn, hears his bridle ring,A,E,F,H. "Beet on!" she cries; "I value you not one straw. Mend upthe fire, brother; I see him coming that will soon mend it up to thee."[89]InA,Hshe cries out, when her lover appears, that if her hands had been free she would have cast out his young son. He leaps into the fire for a last kiss; her body falls apart,B-G. He threatens an awful retaliation: he will burn father and mother, and the chief of all her kin (who, no doubt, had been concerned in this auto da fé). Vengeance glutted, he will throw himself into the flames,A,F; he will take the pilgrim's cloak and staff,C. The foot-page shall be heir of his land,C; he will remember the bonny boy that ran the errand,E.[90]

Maisry, Margery, is the heroine's name inA,D-H,J; Janet inB,C; Susie Cleland inI. The hero has a name only inA, Lord William, and inH, Prince James.

'Lady Maisry' has a limited, and perhaps quite accidental, resemblance to the Scandinavian-German ballad spoken of in the preface to 'Fair Janet.' The lapse of the heroine is visited with a fearful death at the hand of brother or father, and the lover who was partner to her trespass appears on the scene immediately after, and takes his revenge. A kitchey-boy is informant inA, as in some versions of the German story.

The regular penalty for incontinence in an unmarried woman, if we are to trust the authority of romances, is burning. This, according to the well-known passage in Ariosto, Orlando Furioso,IV, 58, 59, was l'aspra legge di Scozia, empia e severa, though it might be as difficult to point out a law to that effect in any European code as a corresponding patria potestas.[91]Some ballad cases are: Scandinavian (Danish, Swedish, Norwegian, Icelandic), 'Ildpröven' and 'Møen paa Baalet,' Grundtvig, Nos 108, 109, II, 577-590, III, 904 f, Eva Wigström, Folkdiktning, I, 30, No 13; Spanish and Portuguese, 'De la infanta y don Galvan,' Wolf and Hofmann, Primavera, No 159, II, 92; 'Conde Claros de Montalvan,' Primavera, No 191, II, 374; 'La infanta seducida,' Milá, Romancerillo Catalan, No 258,A-M, pp 249-54; 'L'infanta,' Briz, IV, 39; 'Dom Carlos de Montealbar,' etc., Braga, Romanceiro, p. 79 ff, Nos 31, 32, 33, Cantos pop. do Archipelago Açoriano, p. 246, No 25, Almeida-Garrett, II, 203; 'Dona Ausenda,' Almeida-Garrett, II, 177, 'Dona Aldonça,' Estacio da Veiga, p. 75; Hardung, Romanceiro Portuguez, I, 180-204. To these add the prose Merlin, ed. Wheatley, I, 16; L'Histoire plaisante du noble Siperis de Vinevaulx, etc., cited by Liebrecht, Dunlop, p. 467, note 117.[92]

Ais translated, after Jamieson, I, 73, by Grundtvig, Engelske og skotske Folkeviser, p. 38;I, a, the same, p. 322.

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