FOOTNOTES:

Printed at London for Thomas Lambert, at the signe of the Hors-shoo in Smithfield.

Percy's Reliques, III, 238, 1765.

1There was a knight was drunk with wineA riding along the way, sir,And there he met with a lady fine,Among the cocks of hay, sir.2'Shall you and I, O lady faire,Among the grass lye downe-a?And I will have a special careOf rumpling of your gowne-a.'3'Upon the grass there is a dewe,Will spoil my damaske gowne, sir;My gown and kirtle they are newe,And cost me many a crowne, sir.'4'I have a cloak of scarlet red,Upon the ground I'll throwe it;Then, lady faire, come lay thy head;We'll play, and none shall knowe it.'5'O yonder stands my steed so free,Among the cocks of hay, sir,And if the pinner should chance to see,He'll take my steed away, sir.'6'Upon my finger I have a ring,It's made of finest gold-a,And, lady, it thy steed shall bringOut of the pinner's fold-a.'7'O go with me to my father's hall;Fair chambers there are three, sir;And you shall have the best of all,And I'll your chamberlain bee, sir.'8He mounted himself on his steed so tall,And her on her dapple-grey, sir,And then they rode to her father's hall,Fast pricking along the way, sir.9To her father's hall they arrived strait;'T was moated round about-a;She slipped herself within the gate,And lockt the knight without-a.10'Here is a silver penny to spend,And take it for your pain, sir;And two of my father's men I'll send,To wait on you back again, sir.'11He from his scabbard drew his brand,And whet it upon his sleeve-a,And 'Cursed,' he said, 'be every manThat will a maid believe-a!'12She drew a bodkin from her haire,And whipd it upon her gown-a:'And curst be every maiden faireThat will with men lye down-a!13'A tree there is, that lowly grows,And some do call it rue, sir;The smallest dunghill cock that crowsWould make a capon of you, sir.14'A flower there is, that shineth bright,Some call it marygold-a;He that wold not when he might,He shall not when he wold-a.'15The knight was riding another day,With cloak and hat and feather;He met again with that lady gay,Who was angling in the river.16'Now, lady faire, I've met with you,You shall no more escape me;Remember how not long agoeYou falsely did intrap me.'17The lady blushed scarlet red,And trembled at the stranger:'How shall I guard my maidenheadFrom this approaching danger!'18He from his saddle down did light,In all his riche attyer,And cryed, As I am a noble knight,I do thy charms admyer.19He took the lady by the hand,Who seemingly consented,And would no more disputing stand;She had a plot invented.20'Looke yonder, good sir knight, I praye,Methinks I now discover,A riding upon his dapple-grey,My former constant lover.'21On tip-toe peering stood the knight,Fast by the river brink-a;The lady pusht with all her might:'Sir knight, now swim or sink-a!'22Oer head and ears he plunged in;The bottom faire he sounded;Then rising up he cried amain,Help, helpe, or else I'm drowned!23'Now fare you well, sir knight, adieu!You see what comes of fooling;That is the fittest place for you;Your courage wanted cooling.'24Ere many days, in her father's park,Just at the close of eve-a,Again she met with her angry sparke,Which made this lady grieve-a.25'False lady, here thou'rt in my powre,And no one now can hear thee;And thou shalt sorely rue the hourThat eer thou dar'dst to jeer me.'26'I pray, sir knight, be not so warmWith a young silly maid-a;I vow and swear I thought no harm;'Twas a gentle jest I playd-a.'27'A gentle jest in soothe,' he cry'd,'To tumble me in and leave me!What if I had in the river dy'd?That fetch will not deceive me.28'Once more I'll pardon thee this day,Tho injurd out of measure;But then prepare without delayTo yield thee to my pleasure.'29'Well then, if I must grant your suit,Yet think of your boots and spurs, sir;Let me pull off both spur and boot,Or else you cannot stir, sir.'30He set him down upon the grass,And begd her kind assistance;'Now,' smiling thought this lovely lass,'I'll make you keep your distance.'31Then pulling off his boots half-way,'Sir knight, now I'm your betters;You shall not make of me your prey;Sit there like a knave in fetters.'32The knight when she had served soe,He fretted, fum'd and grumbled;For he could neither stand nor goe,But like a cripple tumbled.33'Farewell, sir knight, the clock strikes ten,Yet do not move nor stir, sir;I'll send you my father's serving-men,To pull off your boots and spurs, sir.34'This merry jest you must excuse;You are but a stingless nettle;You 'd never have stood for boots or shoesHad you been a man of mettle.'35All night in grievous rage he lay,Rolling upon the plain-a;Next morning a shepherd past that way,Who set him right again-a.36Then mounting upon his steed so tall,By hill and dale he swore-a,'I'll ride at once to her father's hall;She shall escape no more-a.37'I'll take her father by the beard,I'll challenge all her kindred;Each dastard soul shall stand affeard;My wrath shall no more be hindred.'38He rode unto her father's house,Which every side was moated;The lady heard his furious vows,And all his vengeance noted.39Thought shee, sir knight, to quench your rageOnce more I will endeavor;This water shall your fury swage,Or else it shall burn forever.40Then, faining penitence and feare,She did invite a parley:'Sir knight, if you'll forgive me heare,Henceforth I'll love you dearly.41'My father he is now from home,And I am all alone, sir;Therefore across the water come,And I am all your own, sir.'42'False maid, thou canst no more deceive;I scorn the treacherous bait-a;If thou wouldst have me thee believe,Now open me the gate-a.'43'The bridge is drawn, the gate is barrd,My father has the keys, sir;But I have for my love prepar'dA shorter way and easier.44'Over the moate I've laid a plank,Full seventeen feet in measure;Then step across to the other bank,And there we'll take our pleasure.'45These words she had no sooner spoke,But strait he came tripping over;The plank was sawd, it snapping broke,And sousd the unhappy lover.

1There was a knight was drunk with wineA riding along the way, sir,And there he met with a lady fine,Among the cocks of hay, sir.

2'Shall you and I, O lady faire,Among the grass lye downe-a?And I will have a special careOf rumpling of your gowne-a.'

3'Upon the grass there is a dewe,Will spoil my damaske gowne, sir;My gown and kirtle they are newe,And cost me many a crowne, sir.'

4'I have a cloak of scarlet red,Upon the ground I'll throwe it;Then, lady faire, come lay thy head;We'll play, and none shall knowe it.'

5'O yonder stands my steed so free,Among the cocks of hay, sir,And if the pinner should chance to see,He'll take my steed away, sir.'

6'Upon my finger I have a ring,It's made of finest gold-a,And, lady, it thy steed shall bringOut of the pinner's fold-a.'

7'O go with me to my father's hall;Fair chambers there are three, sir;And you shall have the best of all,And I'll your chamberlain bee, sir.'

8He mounted himself on his steed so tall,And her on her dapple-grey, sir,And then they rode to her father's hall,Fast pricking along the way, sir.

9To her father's hall they arrived strait;'T was moated round about-a;She slipped herself within the gate,And lockt the knight without-a.

10'Here is a silver penny to spend,And take it for your pain, sir;And two of my father's men I'll send,To wait on you back again, sir.'

11He from his scabbard drew his brand,And whet it upon his sleeve-a,And 'Cursed,' he said, 'be every manThat will a maid believe-a!'

12She drew a bodkin from her haire,And whipd it upon her gown-a:'And curst be every maiden faireThat will with men lye down-a!

13'A tree there is, that lowly grows,And some do call it rue, sir;The smallest dunghill cock that crowsWould make a capon of you, sir.

14'A flower there is, that shineth bright,Some call it marygold-a;He that wold not when he might,He shall not when he wold-a.'

15The knight was riding another day,With cloak and hat and feather;He met again with that lady gay,Who was angling in the river.

16'Now, lady faire, I've met with you,You shall no more escape me;Remember how not long agoeYou falsely did intrap me.'

17The lady blushed scarlet red,And trembled at the stranger:'How shall I guard my maidenheadFrom this approaching danger!'

18He from his saddle down did light,In all his riche attyer,And cryed, As I am a noble knight,I do thy charms admyer.

19He took the lady by the hand,Who seemingly consented,And would no more disputing stand;She had a plot invented.

20'Looke yonder, good sir knight, I praye,Methinks I now discover,A riding upon his dapple-grey,My former constant lover.'

21On tip-toe peering stood the knight,Fast by the river brink-a;The lady pusht with all her might:'Sir knight, now swim or sink-a!'

22Oer head and ears he plunged in;The bottom faire he sounded;Then rising up he cried amain,Help, helpe, or else I'm drowned!

23'Now fare you well, sir knight, adieu!You see what comes of fooling;That is the fittest place for you;Your courage wanted cooling.'

24Ere many days, in her father's park,Just at the close of eve-a,Again she met with her angry sparke,Which made this lady grieve-a.

25'False lady, here thou'rt in my powre,And no one now can hear thee;And thou shalt sorely rue the hourThat eer thou dar'dst to jeer me.'

26'I pray, sir knight, be not so warmWith a young silly maid-a;I vow and swear I thought no harm;'Twas a gentle jest I playd-a.'

27'A gentle jest in soothe,' he cry'd,'To tumble me in and leave me!What if I had in the river dy'd?That fetch will not deceive me.

28'Once more I'll pardon thee this day,Tho injurd out of measure;But then prepare without delayTo yield thee to my pleasure.'

29'Well then, if I must grant your suit,Yet think of your boots and spurs, sir;Let me pull off both spur and boot,Or else you cannot stir, sir.'

30He set him down upon the grass,And begd her kind assistance;'Now,' smiling thought this lovely lass,'I'll make you keep your distance.'

31Then pulling off his boots half-way,'Sir knight, now I'm your betters;You shall not make of me your prey;Sit there like a knave in fetters.'

32The knight when she had served soe,He fretted, fum'd and grumbled;For he could neither stand nor goe,But like a cripple tumbled.

33'Farewell, sir knight, the clock strikes ten,Yet do not move nor stir, sir;I'll send you my father's serving-men,To pull off your boots and spurs, sir.

34'This merry jest you must excuse;You are but a stingless nettle;You 'd never have stood for boots or shoesHad you been a man of mettle.'

35All night in grievous rage he lay,Rolling upon the plain-a;Next morning a shepherd past that way,Who set him right again-a.

36Then mounting upon his steed so tall,By hill and dale he swore-a,'I'll ride at once to her father's hall;She shall escape no more-a.

37'I'll take her father by the beard,I'll challenge all her kindred;Each dastard soul shall stand affeard;My wrath shall no more be hindred.'

38He rode unto her father's house,Which every side was moated;The lady heard his furious vows,And all his vengeance noted.

39Thought shee, sir knight, to quench your rageOnce more I will endeavor;This water shall your fury swage,Or else it shall burn forever.

40Then, faining penitence and feare,She did invite a parley:'Sir knight, if you'll forgive me heare,Henceforth I'll love you dearly.

41'My father he is now from home,And I am all alone, sir;Therefore across the water come,And I am all your own, sir.'

42'False maid, thou canst no more deceive;I scorn the treacherous bait-a;If thou wouldst have me thee believe,Now open me the gate-a.'

43'The bridge is drawn, the gate is barrd,My father has the keys, sir;But I have for my love prepar'dA shorter way and easier.

44'Over the moate I've laid a plank,Full seventeen feet in measure;Then step across to the other bank,And there we'll take our pleasure.'

45These words she had no sooner spoke,But strait he came tripping over;The plank was sawd, it snapping broke,And sousd the unhappy lover.

FOOTNOTES:[180]Pepys, V, 169, No 162. An Excellent New Song, calld The Lady's Policy, or, The Baffled Knight. London, printed and sold by T. Moore, 1693. T. Moore printed 1689-93: Chappell.Pepys, V, 170, No 163. An Answer to The Baffld Knight, or, The beautiful Lady's Second piece of policy, by which she preserved her Virginity and left the brisk Knight in Pickle. Printed for C. Bate, next the Crown Tavern in West Smithfield. C. Bates printed 1690-1702: Chappell.Pepys, V, 171, No 164. The Third Part of the Baffld Knight, or, The Witty Lady's new Intreague, by which she left him fetterd in his Boots. Where he lay all Night in her Father's Park, Cursing his woful Misfortune. Printed for I. Deacon, at the Angel in Guilt Spur Street, without Newgate. Jonah Deacon printed 1684-95: Chappell.I do not know that the Fourth Part was ever separately printed.The Pepys copy is not at my disposal except for collation.[181]"Bishop Percy found the subject worthy of his best improvements," says Ritson, for once with French neatness: Ancient Songs, p. 159.[182]See, further on, the second Danish and the German ballad.[183]A,E,Fin Hardung's Romanceiro, I, 49-55,B,C,D, the same, pp. 59-67.[184]As in 'Don Bueso,' Duran, I, lxv, A. de los Rios, in Jahrbuch für romanische u. englische Literatur, III, 282, two copies.[185]"Curse women, and still more him that trusts them," says the knight at the end of PortugueseA, and so in EnglishA.[186]It has been contended thatmalatosignifies a peasant of low condition: see Braga, C. p. do Arch. açor., p. 399; but, on the other hand, Amador de los Rios, as above, VII, 433. Sense requires, if not the specific meaningleprous, at least something contagious, and sufficiently serious to make the knight tremble in his saddle, as he does in PortugueseA. Hardung aptly cites from SpanishB: "Fija soy de un malatoque tiene la malatia." Compare the French ballads.

[180]Pepys, V, 169, No 162. An Excellent New Song, calld The Lady's Policy, or, The Baffled Knight. London, printed and sold by T. Moore, 1693. T. Moore printed 1689-93: Chappell.Pepys, V, 170, No 163. An Answer to The Baffld Knight, or, The beautiful Lady's Second piece of policy, by which she preserved her Virginity and left the brisk Knight in Pickle. Printed for C. Bate, next the Crown Tavern in West Smithfield. C. Bates printed 1690-1702: Chappell.Pepys, V, 171, No 164. The Third Part of the Baffld Knight, or, The Witty Lady's new Intreague, by which she left him fetterd in his Boots. Where he lay all Night in her Father's Park, Cursing his woful Misfortune. Printed for I. Deacon, at the Angel in Guilt Spur Street, without Newgate. Jonah Deacon printed 1684-95: Chappell.I do not know that the Fourth Part was ever separately printed.The Pepys copy is not at my disposal except for collation.

[180]Pepys, V, 169, No 162. An Excellent New Song, calld The Lady's Policy, or, The Baffled Knight. London, printed and sold by T. Moore, 1693. T. Moore printed 1689-93: Chappell.

Pepys, V, 170, No 163. An Answer to The Baffld Knight, or, The beautiful Lady's Second piece of policy, by which she preserved her Virginity and left the brisk Knight in Pickle. Printed for C. Bate, next the Crown Tavern in West Smithfield. C. Bates printed 1690-1702: Chappell.

Pepys, V, 171, No 164. The Third Part of the Baffld Knight, or, The Witty Lady's new Intreague, by which she left him fetterd in his Boots. Where he lay all Night in her Father's Park, Cursing his woful Misfortune. Printed for I. Deacon, at the Angel in Guilt Spur Street, without Newgate. Jonah Deacon printed 1684-95: Chappell.

I do not know that the Fourth Part was ever separately printed.

The Pepys copy is not at my disposal except for collation.

[181]"Bishop Percy found the subject worthy of his best improvements," says Ritson, for once with French neatness: Ancient Songs, p. 159.

[182]See, further on, the second Danish and the German ballad.

[183]A,E,Fin Hardung's Romanceiro, I, 49-55,B,C,D, the same, pp. 59-67.

[184]As in 'Don Bueso,' Duran, I, lxv, A. de los Rios, in Jahrbuch für romanische u. englische Literatur, III, 282, two copies.

[185]"Curse women, and still more him that trusts them," says the knight at the end of PortugueseA, and so in EnglishA.

[186]It has been contended thatmalatosignifies a peasant of low condition: see Braga, C. p. do Arch. açor., p. 399; but, on the other hand, Amador de los Rios, as above, VII, 433. Sense requires, if not the specific meaningleprous, at least something contagious, and sufficiently serious to make the knight tremble in his saddle, as he does in PortugueseA. Hardung aptly cites from SpanishB: "Fija soy de un malatoque tiene la malatia." Compare the French ballads.

Proceedings of The Society of Antiquaries of Scotland, I, 86, 1852. Communicated by the late Captain F. W. L. Thomas, R. N.; written down by him from the dictation of a venerable lady of Snarra Voe, Shetland.

This Shetland ballad[187]was reprinted in Colburn's New Monthly Magazine, April, 1864, with spelling Scotticized, and two or three other uncalled-for changes.

"Finns," as they are for the most part called, denizens of a region below the depths of the ocean, are able to ascend to the land above by donning a seal-skin, which then they are wont to lay off, and, having divested themselves of it, they "act just like men and women." If this integument be taken away from them, they cannot pass through the sea again and return to their proper abode, and they become subject to the power of man, like the swan-maidens and mer-wives of Scandinavian and German tradition: Grimm's Mythologie, I, 354f. Female Finns, under these circumstances, have been fain to accept of human partners. The Great Selchie, or Big Seal, of Shul Skerry, had had commerce with a woman during an excursion to the upper world. See Hibbert's Description of the Shetland Islands, pp. 566-571, and Karl Blind in the Contemporary Review, XL, 404, 1881. A correspondent of Blind gives stanza 3 with a slight variation, thus:

I am a man, upo da land,I am a selkie i da sea;An whin I'm far fa every strandMy dwelling is in Shöol Skerry.

1An eartly nourris sits and sings,And aye she sings, Ba, lily wean!Little ken I my bairnis father,Far less the land that he staps in.2Then ane arose at her bed-fit,An a grumly guest I'm sure was he:'Here am I, thy bairnis father,Although that I be not comelie.3'I am a man, upo the lan,An I am a silkie in the sea;And when I'm far and far frae lan,My dwelling is in Sule Skerrie.'4'It was na weel,' quo the maiden fair,'It was na weel, indeed,' quo she,'That the Great Silkie of Sule SkerrieSuld hae come and aught a bairn to me.'5Now he has taen a purse of goud,And he has pat it upo her knee,Sayin, Gie to me my little young son,An tak thee up thy nourris-fee.6An it sall come to pass on a simmer's day,When the sin shines het on evera stane,That I will tak my little young son,An teach him for to swim the faem.7An thu sail marry a proud gunner,An a proud gunner I'm sure he'll be,An the very first schot that ere he schoots,He'll schoot baith my young son and me.

1An eartly nourris sits and sings,And aye she sings, Ba, lily wean!Little ken I my bairnis father,Far less the land that he staps in.

2Then ane arose at her bed-fit,An a grumly guest I'm sure was he:'Here am I, thy bairnis father,Although that I be not comelie.

3'I am a man, upo the lan,An I am a silkie in the sea;And when I'm far and far frae lan,My dwelling is in Sule Skerrie.'

4'It was na weel,' quo the maiden fair,'It was na weel, indeed,' quo she,'That the Great Silkie of Sule SkerrieSuld hae come and aught a bairn to me.'

5Now he has taen a purse of goud,And he has pat it upo her knee,Sayin, Gie to me my little young son,An tak thee up thy nourris-fee.

6An it sall come to pass on a simmer's day,When the sin shines het on evera stane,That I will tak my little young son,An teach him for to swim the faem.

7An thu sail marry a proud gunner,An a proud gunner I'm sure he'll be,An the very first schot that ere he schoots,He'll schoot baith my young son and me.

62. Quhen.

FOOTNOTES:[187]The ballad was pointed out to me by Mr Macmath, and would have followed No 40 had I known of it earlier.

[187]The ballad was pointed out to me by Mr Macmath, and would have followed No 40 had I known of it earlier.

I, 2 b. Russian riddle-songs: Trudy, III, 314, No 44; V, 1073, No 208, 1190, No 6.

The Russian riddle-ballad of the merchant's son. Add: Shein, Russkiya Narodnuiya Pyesni, Plyasovuiya, Dance Songs, Nos 88, 87, 89, p. 233 f.

P. 8 a, second paragraph. Russian ballad of Impossibilities propounded reciprocally by youth and maid (including a shirt): Shein, Russkiya N. P., Plyasovuiya, Nos 85, 86, p. 231 f.

13. Another Clever Wench, in Hurwitz's Hebrew Tales, New York, 1847, p. 154, Nos 61, 62; or Sagen der Hebräer aus dem Englischen, u. s. w., Leipzig, 1828, p. 129, Nos 56, 57.

14 a, line 16. The Rusalka ballad, also in Trudy, III, 190, No 7.

14 a, the first paragraph. In the third or "Forest" book of the Mahā-bhārata, chapters 311-313, is a story that bears marks of being an ancient part of the compilation. Yudhishthira and his four younger brothers are distressed with thirst. The eldest sends these one after another in quest of water. Each reaches a lake and hears a voice of a sprite in the air, "I have the first claim on this lake. Do not drink till you have answered my questions," drinks notwithstanding, and falls as if dead. At last Yudhishthira goes himself, answers the questions, and is offered boons by the sprite. He is very modest, and asks the life of one of his two half-brothers only, not that of either of his full brothers. Whereupon the sprite rewards his virtue by bringing all four to life.

The riddles and questions are spun out at great length, and many are palpable interpolations. A few examples may be given. What is weightier (more reverend) than the earth? One's mother. What is loftier than the heavens? One's father. What is fleeter than the wind? The mind. What are more numerous than the blades of grass? Thoughts. What does not close its eyes while asleep? A fish. What is that which does not move after birth? An egg. What is that which is without heart? A stone. And so on. A paraphrase of parts of these chapters is given by Ed. Arnold, Indian Idylls, Boston, 1883, pp. 212-235.

Similarly, in the Kathā-sarit-sāgara, chapter v, a man escapes death by resolving an ogre's riddle. See Tawney's translation, I, 26, and especially the note, where Benfey is cited as comparing Mahā-bhārata, XIII, 5883 ff.

14 b. Legend of St Andrew: Horstmann, Altenglische Legenden, Neue Folge, 1881, p. 8.

18. A variety ofF,G, Bruce and Stokoe, Northumbrian Minstrelsy, p. 79. 'Whittingham Fair,' popular in the north and west of the county of Northumberland; usually sung as a nursery-ballad.

1'Are you going to Whittingham fair?Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thymeRemember me to one who lives there;For once she was a true-love of mine.2'Tell her to make me a cambric shirt,Without any seam or needlework.3'Tell her to wash it in yonder well,Where never spring-water nor rain ever fell.4'Tell her to dry it on yonder thorn,Which never bore blossom since Adam was born.'5'Now he has asked me questions three,Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thymeI hope he will answer as many for me;For once he was a true-love of mine.6'Tell him to find me an acre of landBetwixt the salt water and the sea-sand.7'Tell him to plough it with a ram's horn,And sow it all over with one pepper-corn.8'Tell him to reap it with a sickle of leather,And bind it up with a peacock's feather.9'When he has done, and finished his work,O tell him to come, and he 'll have his shirt.'

1'Are you going to Whittingham fair?Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thymeRemember me to one who lives there;For once she was a true-love of mine.

2'Tell her to make me a cambric shirt,Without any seam or needlework.

3'Tell her to wash it in yonder well,Where never spring-water nor rain ever fell.

4'Tell her to dry it on yonder thorn,Which never bore blossom since Adam was born.'

5'Now he has asked me questions three,Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thymeI hope he will answer as many for me;For once he was a true-love of mine.

6'Tell him to find me an acre of landBetwixt the salt water and the sea-sand.

7'Tell him to plough it with a ram's horn,And sow it all over with one pepper-corn.

8'Tell him to reap it with a sickle of leather,And bind it up with a peacock's feather.

9'When he has done, and finished his work,O tell him to come, and he 'll have his shirt.'

Another variety ofF,G, communicated by Mr Frank Kidson, Leeds, 1884; from tradition.

1'Oh where are you going?' 'To Scarbro fair.'Savoury, sage, rosemary and thyme'Remember me to a lass who lives there;For once she was a true lover of mine.2'And tell her to make me a cambric shirt,Without a needle or thread or ought else;And then she shall be a true lover of mine.3'And tell her to wash it in yonder well,Where water neer sprung nor a drop of rain fell;And then, etc.4'And tell her to hang it on yonder stone,Where moss never grew since Adam was born.5'And when she has finished and done, her I'll repay,She can come unto me and married we'll be.'6'Oh where are you going?' 'To Scarbro fair.''Remember me to a lad who lives there;For once he was a true lover of mine.7'And tell him to buy me an acre of landBetween the wide ocean and the sea-sand;And then he, etc.8'And tell him to plough it with a ram's horn,And sow it all over with one pepper-corn.9'And tell him to reap't with a sickle of leather,And bind it up with a peacock's feather.10'And when he has finished, and done his work,He can come unto me for his cambric shirt.'

1'Oh where are you going?' 'To Scarbro fair.'Savoury, sage, rosemary and thyme'Remember me to a lass who lives there;For once she was a true lover of mine.

2'And tell her to make me a cambric shirt,Without a needle or thread or ought else;And then she shall be a true lover of mine.

3'And tell her to wash it in yonder well,Where water neer sprung nor a drop of rain fell;And then, etc.

4'And tell her to hang it on yonder stone,Where moss never grew since Adam was born.

5'And when she has finished and done, her I'll repay,She can come unto me and married we'll be.'

6'Oh where are you going?' 'To Scarbro fair.''Remember me to a lad who lives there;For once he was a true lover of mine.

7'And tell him to buy me an acre of landBetween the wide ocean and the sea-sand;And then he, etc.

8'And tell him to plough it with a ram's horn,And sow it all over with one pepper-corn.

9'And tell him to reap't with a sickle of leather,And bind it up with a peacock's feather.

10'And when he has finished, and done his work,He can come unto me for his cambric shirt.'

Variations in a fragment of the same, remembered by another person: F. Kidson.

11Oh are you going to...7Tell her ...Sow it all over with sand.9Reap it with ...And tie it ...And then she shall be ...3(after 9):And tell her to wash it in yonder dry well,Where no water sprung nor a drop of rain fell,And tell her to wash it in yonder dry well,Or never be a true lover of mine.

11Oh are you going to...

7Tell her ...Sow it all over with sand.

9Reap it with ...And tie it ...And then she shall be ...

3(after 9):

And tell her to wash it in yonder dry well,Where no water sprung nor a drop of rain fell,And tell her to wash it in yonder dry well,Or never be a true lover of mine.

P. 21, note, and p. 485. "Die Windsbraut soil man brav schelten, sich selber aber bekreuzigen, dann weicht sie. Sie ist des Teufels Braut. Wo eine Windsbraut auffährt, ist eine Hexe aufgesprungen." Birlinger u. Buck, Volksthümliches aus Schwaben, I, 192, No 304. G. L. K.

21. Finnur is a trold in a corresponding Icelandic story, Árnason, Íslenzkar Þjóðsögur, I, 58. G. L. K.

See, for Finn and Finns, Karl Blind in The Contemporary Review, XL, 402ff., 1881; also, 'The Great Silkie of Sule Skerry,' No 113, II, 494.

P. 24. May Colvin in Ireland. According to a Connemara story given briefly in Once a Week, II, 53 f, July 2, 1864, one Captain Webb was wont to ill-use young women, and then strip them and throw them into the Murthering Hole, not far from Maarn. At last a girl induced him to turn his back, and then thrust him into the Hole. P. Z. Round.

24 b. The Flemish ballad is given by Fétis, Histoire Générale de la Musique, V, 59, "d'après un texte ancien qui a deux strophes de plus que celui de Willems." G. L. K.

28 b. 'Ásu kvaeði' in Íslenzk fornkvæði, II, 226, No 60,A-M: this copyD(E-M). Published in 1885.

41, and p. 487 f. Russian form, corrupted.

On the oaken bridge stood Galya, there Galya stood and drew water, she drew water and spoke with Marko. "O Marko mine, what dost thou say to me? Come wander with me, youth; let us wander on foot through the dark night." One field traversed, a second they crossed, and in the third lay down on the grass to sleep. The rain began to sprinkle, the fierce rain to fall, and Marko began to slumber. "O Marko mine, sleep not while with me; bare your sword and fight with me." Young Galya vanquished Marko; she conquered Marko, and rode, she mounted and rode over the level field. Galya arrives at the new gate; there stands Marko's mother, more beautiful than gold. "Young Galya, what can I say? Have you seen Marko near my house?" "Oh, hush, mother; weep not, mourn not. Thy Marko has married in the field; he has taken to himself a fine young lady, a grave in the meadow." Trudy, V, 425, No 816.

A man beguiles a girl with tales of a land where the rivers are of honey, where pears grow on willows, and maidens are clothed in gold. Trudy, V, 335, No 660.

In one version of this ballad a cuckoo flies up andbids the maid not listen to the Cossack's tales: "I have flown all over the world, and I have never seen golden mountains, nor eaten pears from willow-trees, nor beheld maidens clad in gold."

41 a, and 487 a. A maid going to the ford for water meets Marko, and suggests that he should propose for her; if her mother will not consent, they will roam. They cross one field and two, and lie down on the grass in a third. He is falling asleep, when she wakes him with a cry that they are pursued. Marko is overtaken and his head cut off. Trudy, V, 226, No 454. No 548, p. 278, is nearly the same. No 690, p. 352, resembles in part No 454, and partly Golovatsky, I, 116.

42 a and 488 a,A. A lover takes his love by her white hands, leads her to the Danube, seizes her by the white sides, and flings her in. She asks whether she is ugly, or whether it is her ill fate. Trudy, V, 166, No 339.

In Poésies pop. de la France, MS., VI, 278, Poésies pop. de la Corrèze, a ballad called 'Chanson du brave Altizar' is mentioned as a variant of 'Dion et la Fille du Roi,' and, fol. 321 of the same volume, a version from Mortain, Basse Normandie, is said to have been communicated, which, however, I have not found. These may both belong with the French ballads at II, 356.

43 a.E. Another copy in Guillon, Chansons pop. de l'Ain, p. 85.

AddI: 'Monsieur de Savigna,' Decombe, Chansons pop. d'Ille-et-Vilaine, p. 264, No 92. The ballad begins likeA,B, but the conclusion is inverted. The fair one is thrown into a pond; M. Savigna cuts away with his sword the plant she seizes when she comes up from the bottom the fourth time; she asks, If you ever go back, where will you say you left me? and he answers, In the big wood full of robbers.

59.F.In the catalogue of the British Museum, "London? 1710?"

60.

British Museum, MS. Addit. 20094. 'The Knight and the Chief's Daughter,' communicated to Mr T. Crofton Croker in 1829, as remembered by Mr W. Pigott Rogers, and believed by Mr Rogers to have been learned by him from an Irish nursery-maid.

1'Now steal me some of your father's gold,And some of your mother's fee,And steal the best steed in your father's stable,Where there lie thirty three.'2She stole him some of her father's gold,And some of her mother's fee,And she stole the best steed from her father's stable,Where there lay thirty three.3And she rode on the milk-white steed,And he on the barb so grey,Until they came to the green, green wood,Three hours before it was day.4'Alight, alight, my pretty colleen,Alight immediately,For six knight's daughters I drowned here,And thou the seventh shall be.'5'Oh hold your tongue, you false knight villain,Oh hold your tongue,' said she;''T was you that promised to marry me,For some of my father's fee.'6'Strip off, strip off your jewels so rare,And give them all to me;I think them too rich and too costly by farTo rot in the sand with thee.'7'Oh turn away, thou false knight villain,Oh turn away from me;Oh turn away, with your back to the cliff,And your face to the willow-tree.'8He turned about, with his back to the cliff,And his face to the willow-tree;So sudden she took him up in her arms,And threw him into the sea.9'Lie there, lie there, thou false knight villain,Lie there instead of me;'T was you that promised to marry me,For some of my father's fee.'10'Oh take me by the arm, my dear,And hold me by the hand,And you shall be my gay lady,And the queen of all Scotland.'11'I'll not take you by the arm, my dear,Nor hold you by the hand;And I won't be your gay lady,And the queen of all Scotland.'12And she rode on the milk-white steed,And led the barb so grey,Until she came back to her father's castle,One hour before it was day.13And out then spoke her parrot so green,From the cage wherein she lay:Where have you now been, my pretty colleen,This long, long summer's day?14'Oh hold your tongue, my favourite bird,And tell no tales on me;Your cage I will make of the beaten gold,And hang in the willow-tree.'15Out then spoke her father dear,From the chamber where he lay:Oh what hath befallen my favourite bird,That she calls so loud for day?16'T is nothing at all, good lord,' she said,''T is nothing at all indeed;It was only the cat came to my cage-door,And I called my pretty colleen.'

1'Now steal me some of your father's gold,And some of your mother's fee,And steal the best steed in your father's stable,Where there lie thirty three.'

2She stole him some of her father's gold,And some of her mother's fee,And she stole the best steed from her father's stable,Where there lay thirty three.

3And she rode on the milk-white steed,And he on the barb so grey,Until they came to the green, green wood,Three hours before it was day.

4'Alight, alight, my pretty colleen,Alight immediately,For six knight's daughters I drowned here,And thou the seventh shall be.'

5'Oh hold your tongue, you false knight villain,Oh hold your tongue,' said she;''T was you that promised to marry me,For some of my father's fee.'

6'Strip off, strip off your jewels so rare,And give them all to me;I think them too rich and too costly by farTo rot in the sand with thee.'

7'Oh turn away, thou false knight villain,Oh turn away from me;Oh turn away, with your back to the cliff,And your face to the willow-tree.'

8He turned about, with his back to the cliff,And his face to the willow-tree;So sudden she took him up in her arms,And threw him into the sea.

9'Lie there, lie there, thou false knight villain,Lie there instead of me;'T was you that promised to marry me,For some of my father's fee.'

10'Oh take me by the arm, my dear,And hold me by the hand,And you shall be my gay lady,And the queen of all Scotland.'

11'I'll not take you by the arm, my dear,Nor hold you by the hand;And I won't be your gay lady,And the queen of all Scotland.'

12And she rode on the milk-white steed,And led the barb so grey,Until she came back to her father's castle,One hour before it was day.

13And out then spoke her parrot so green,From the cage wherein she lay:Where have you now been, my pretty colleen,This long, long summer's day?

14'Oh hold your tongue, my favourite bird,And tell no tales on me;Your cage I will make of the beaten gold,And hang in the willow-tree.'

15Out then spoke her father dear,From the chamber where he lay:Oh what hath befallen my favourite bird,That she calls so loud for day?

16'T is nothing at all, good lord,' she said,''T is nothing at all indeed;It was only the cat came to my cage-door,And I called my pretty colleen.'

P. 67 a, line 14. Add the Icelandic versions of 'Torkild Trundesøn' recently printed: Íslenzk fornkvæði, II, 281, No 62,A42 f,B42,C29.

P. 85 b, the third paragraph. "Bei der Entbindung... muss man alle Schlösser im Hause an Thüren und Kisten aufmachen: so gebiert die Frau leichter." Wuttke, Der deutsche Volksaberglaube, p. 355, No 574, ed. 1869. G. L. K.

P. 96 b, line 1. In England the north side of the burial-ground is appropriated to unbaptized children, suicides, etc. Brand's Antiquities, ed. Hazlitt, II, 214-218.

97 b. Add:Portuguese.Roméro, Cantos pop. do Brazil, No 4, 'D. Duarte e Donzilha,' I, 9: sicupira and collar.

Romaic.Chasiotis, p. 169, No 5, lemon and cypress; Aravandinos, p. 284 f, Nos 471, 472, cypress and reed.

97 b, and 489 b.Russian.Bezsonof, Kalyeki Perekhozhie, I, 697-700, Nos 167, 168 (Ruibnikof): Vasily is laid on the right, Sophia on the left; golden willow and cypress. The hostile mother pulls up, breaks down, the willow; cuts down, pulls up, the cypress.

Trudy, V, 711, No 309,A, man buried under church, wife under belfry; green maple and white birch.B-J, other copies with variations. V, 1208, No 50, a Cossack blossoms into a thorn, a maid into an elder; his mother goes to pull up the thorn, hers to pluck up the elder. "Lo, this is no thorn! it is my son!" "Lo, this is no elder! it is my daughter!"

489 b, eighth line from below, read, for laburnum, silver willow, and golden willow in the next line but one; and also for No 285.

98 a.Magyar.In Ungarische Revue, 1883, pp. 756-59, these three and one more.

Chinese.Hanpang has a young and pretty wife named Ho, whom he tenderly loves. The king, becoming enamored of her, puts her husband in prison, where he kills himself. Ho throws herself from a high place, leaving a letter to the king, in which she begs that she may be buried in the same tomb as her husband; but the king orders them to be put in separate graves. In the night cedars spring up from their tombs, which thrive so extraordinarily that in ten days their branches and their roots are interlocked. A. de Gubernatis, La Mythologie des Plantes, II, 53, from Schlegel, Uranographie chinoise, p. 679. (Already cited by Braga.)

P. 116 a,C51. Bed-head should certainly be bed-stock: cf.B31.

P. 119 b. Färöe versions. Seven are now known, and one is printed, from the manuscript collection of Färöe ballads made by Svend Grundtvig and Jørgen Bloch, in Hammershaimb, Færøsk Anthologi, No 7, p. 23, 'Harpu rima.'

124 b. Waldau, Böhmische Granaten, II, 97. R. Köhler. (I have never been able to get the second volume.)

125 a.

'Siffle, berger, de mon haleine!Mon frère m'a tué sous les bois d'Altumène,Pour la rose de ma mère, que j'avais trouvée,' etc.

Poésies pop. de la France, MS., VI, 193bis; popular in Champagne: Mélusine, I, col. 424.

125 b, second paragraph. (7), also in Rochholz, Schweizersagen aus dem Aargau, II, 126, No 353. Add to stories of this group, 'La Flute,' Bladé, Contes pop. de la Gascogne, II, 100-102. G. L. K.

The last paragraph. De Gubernatis, Zoölogical Mythology, I, 195, cites other similar stories: Afanasief, Skazki, V, 71, No 17, and two varieties, VI, 133, No 25; the twentieth story of Santo Stefano di Calcinaia, II, 325. G. L. K.

P. 143 b, line 27. AddD3, and the Swedish ballad at p. 203, stanzas 14-17.

P. 151 a. Lt.-Col. W. F. Prideaux, of Calcutta, has kindly informed me thatEwas printed in The Universal Magazine, 1804. It is there said to have been sung, to a very simple and very ancient Scotch tune,by a peasant-girl at the village of Randcallas, Perthshire. See, also, Notes and Queries, Sixth Series, XII, 134.

152 b. ItalianAis translated in the Countess Evelyn Martinengo-Cesaresco's Essays in the Study of Folk-Songs, p. 219.

156 b, at the end of the second paragraph. The Čelakovský and the Sakharof ballad are the same. Add: Trudy, V, 432, No 822; p. 915, No 481.

P. 168 b.Bis translated also in Seckendorf's Musenalmanach für das Jahr 1808, p. 7, and by Du Méril, Histoire de la Poésie scandinave, p. 467.

P. 172 b.Färöe.Four versions are known; Lyngbye's is repeated in Hammershaimb's Færøsk Anthologi, No 13, p. 45, 'Torkils døtur.'

173. 'La Fille d'un Cabaretier,' Guillon, Chansons pop. de l'Ain, p. 165, has some of the circumstances of No 14. A girl is stopped by three "libertins" in a wood. She gives them her ring and her chain, to ransom her person. They say they will have that too, and kill her when she resists. They then go for breakfast to her father's tavern, and while they are paying their scot the ring falls and is recognized by her mother. The youngest confesses, and they are taken to the forest and burned.

In a Russian ballad the only sister of nine [seven] brothers is given in marriage to a rich merchant, who lives at a distance from her home. After three years the married pair undertake a journey to her native place. On their way they are attacked by nine robbers, who kill her husband, throw her child into the sea, and act their pleasure with her. One of the nine, entering into talk with the woman, discovers that she is his sister. Sakharof, translated in Ralston's Songs of the Russian People, p. 49 f; Ruibnikof, Part III, p. 340, No 62, Part IV, p. 99, No 19; Hilferding, col. 149, No 28, col. 844, No 167, col. 1154, No 248, col. 1265, No 294; Trudy, V, 910, No 479,A-H.

P. 181 b, line 12. Montanus is Vincenz von Zuccalmaglio; the ballad-editor is Wilhelm.

French.AddC, Decombe, No 96, p. 275, 'Le fils du roi d'Espagne.'

182 a, second paragraph, line 6 ff. Say: No 102, 'Willie and Earl Richard's Daughter;' No 103, 'Rose the Red and White Lily;' No 64, 'Fair Janet','C7,D1; No 63, 'Child Waters,'J39; No 24, 'Bonnie Annie,'A10,B6, 7.

A man's help refused in travail. Add: Sir Beues of Hamtoun, p. 132, v. 3449 ff (Maitland Club).

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