N

Motherwell's Minstrelsy, Appendix, p. xx, XXI.

It fell upon a Martinmas time,When the nobles were a' drinking wine,That Little Mushiegrove to the kirk he did go,For to see the ladies come in.

Communicated by Miss Margaret Reburn, as heard in County Meath, Ireland, about 1860.

1'How do you like my rug?' he said,'And how do you like my sheets?And how do you like my false ladie,That lies in your arms asleep?'2'Well I like your rug my lord,And well I like your sheets;But better than all your fair ladie,That lies in my arms asleep.'

1'How do you like my rug?' he said,'And how do you like my sheets?And how do you like my false ladie,That lies in your arms asleep?'

2'Well I like your rug my lord,And well I like your sheets;But better than all your fair ladie,That lies in my arms asleep.'

A. a.

32. in pale.62. geight.63. wilt wed.92. or sinn.173. thou fair.293. on upper.

32. in pale.

62. geight.

63. wilt wed.

92. or sinn.

173. thou fair.

293. on upper.

14. Their masses and mattins.22.omitsprivate.32. pale.34. among.44. I have.54. Yet word I never durst.62. daintily bedight.71. lady fair.72. you shew.74. will I.81. All this was heard by.83. Quo he, though I am my ladies page.84. my lord.92. Although I lose a limb.93. whereas.104. thy none.114.omitswill.143. when as the.144. Away, thou little Musgrave.153. Bernards horn.164. to fold.171. the perch.173. thy fair.182. lighted upon a stone.194. Doest find my lady so sweet.203. hunder'd pound.214. That I killed.253. not do.254. Though I.261.omitsThat: heart.272. ne're were.282. on a.

14. Their masses and mattins.

22.omitsprivate.

32. pale.

34. among.

44. I have.

54. Yet word I never durst.

62. daintily bedight.

71. lady fair.

72. you shew.

74. will I.

81. All this was heard by.

83. Quo he, though I am my ladies page.

84. my lord.

92. Although I lose a limb.

93. whereas.

104. thy none.

114.omitswill.

143. when as the.

144. Away, thou little Musgrave.

153. Bernards horn.

164. to fold.

171. the perch.

173. thy fair.

182. lighted upon a stone.

194. Doest find my lady so sweet.

203. hunder'd pound.

214. That I killed.

253. not do.

254. Though I.

261.omitsThat: heart.

272. ne're were.

282. on a.

54. Musgerue.6 is written in the MS. after 8, but a marginal note by the scribe directs this stanza to be put two higher than it is written.Furnivall.84. awaw.93. out 3.112.Between here and 123half a page is gone.134. all 3.

54. Musgerue.

6 is written in the MS. after 8, but a marginal note by the scribe directs this stanza to be put two higher than it is written.Furnivall.

84. awaw.

93. out 3.

112.Between here and 123half a page is gone.

134. all 3.

a.The lamentable Ditty of Little Mousgrove and the Lady Barnet... London, printed for H. Gosson.Stanzas of eight lines.b.London: printed for J. Clark, W. Thackeray, and T. Passenger.c.A Lamentable Ballad of the Little Musgrove and the Lady Barnet... London, printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, and J. Clarke.e.London: printed by and for W. O., and are to be sold by the Booksellers.

a.The lamentable Ditty of Little Mousgrove and the Lady Barnet... London, printed for H. Gosson.Stanzas of eight lines.

b.London: printed for J. Clark, W. Thackeray, and T. Passenger.

c.A Lamentable Ballad of the Little Musgrove and the Lady Barnet... London, printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, and J. Clarke.

e.London: printed by and for W. O., and are to be sold by the Booksellers.

153. might lay.After16: The second part.

153. might lay.

After16: The second part.

b., c.

Musgrovethroughout.11. lightwanting.12. more be.24. which did to the.32. some came.c.pale.33. The next: the lady.34.c.among.41. upon.43. well thou perceived.51. The: mostwanting.53.b.reply.63. that you please.72. my love.81.b.my life: my death.82. will lye.84.c.my love to thee.93. come.94. While: doewanting.103. So he: doewanting.111. he said.131. ran this.133.b.He then.133. his own.142.c.he did.144. bent his.152. to the.153.b.my say.c.may say.162. therewanting.c.did make.163. upon.164. doth.172. that thou.b.telst.172. towanting.182. aswanting.b.towanting.183. shall be set up.184. thou shalt.192. thou hearest of.c.And a.193. Never stay a pair of gallows to make.b.towanting.194. me on.201. Lord Barnet calld his merry men all.203. was so.211. he said.214.b.his deed.221. to make no noise.222. all... onwanting.223. horn.231.c.of them that.233. him notice: was come.234. wind the.241. did sound.243. if he.264. into the.273. awake: did espy.b.then he.274. the beds.282. cloathing.283.c.never shall.283. England fair.284. That I.291.b.Here is two swords.292.c.The choice: Musgrove shall.293. shall.301. goodwanting.301, 3. thatwanting.312. didwanting.313. And with: furious wise.324. she's the better skin:c.she is.332.b.grieved.c.grievd.333.c.death of these worthy.341.c.mischief.343.b.shun the.344. And fly from sin.

Musgrovethroughout.

11. lightwanting.

12. more be.

24. which did to the.

32. some came.c.pale.

33. The next: the lady.

34.c.among.

41. upon.

43. well thou perceived.

51. The: mostwanting.

53.b.reply.

63. that you please.

72. my love.

81.b.my life: my death.

82. will lye.

84.c.my love to thee.

93. come.

94. While: doewanting.

103. So he: doewanting.

111. he said.

131. ran this.

133.b.He then.

133. his own.

142.c.he did.

144. bent his.

152. to the.

153.b.my say.c.may say.

162. therewanting.c.did make.

163. upon.

164. doth.

172. that thou.b.telst.

172. towanting.

182. aswanting.b.towanting.

183. shall be set up.

184. thou shalt.

192. thou hearest of.c.And a.

193. Never stay a pair of gallows to make.b.towanting.

194. me on.

201. Lord Barnet calld his merry men all.

203. was so.

211. he said.

214.b.his deed.

221. to make no noise.

222. all... onwanting.

223. horn.

231.c.of them that.

233. him notice: was come.

234. wind the.

241. did sound.

243. if he.

264. into the.

273. awake: did espy.b.then he.

274. the beds.

282. cloathing.

283.c.never shall.

283. England fair.

284. That I.

291.b.Here is two swords.

292.c.The choice: Musgrove shall.

293. shall.

301. goodwanting.

301, 3. thatwanting.

312. didwanting.

313. And with: furious wise.

324. she's the better skin:c.she is.

332.b.grieved.c.grievd.

333.c.death of these worthy.

341.c.mischief.

343.b.shun the.

344. And fly from sin.

11. a high.91. with this.113. counsel, Madam.212. my milk-white.234. wind his bugle horn clear.333. these three lovely.

11. a high.

91. with this.

113. counsel, Madam.

212. my milk-white.

234. wind his bugle horn clear.

333. these three lovely.

11. a high.13. Littlewanting.33. Then next.81. my life: my death.133. He then.153. might tell to.192. thatwanting.264. unto the.282. anforon.291. Here is two.292. Musgrove thy choice now make.313. mostwanting.343. shun the.

11. a high.

13. Littlewanting.

33. Then next.

81. my life: my death.

133. He then.

153. might tell to.

192. thatwanting.

264. unto the.

282. anforon.

291. Here is two.

292. Musgrove thy choice now make.

313. mostwanting.

343. shun the.

101. this tidings.123. Banburry.153. It neer.182. struck her.194. wud: (with it)in margin.

101. this tidings.

123. Banburry.

153. It neer.

182. struck her.

194. wud: (with it)in margin.

101. (cam) to the green wood cam.

131. Oh.

93. old word.

21.Corrupt: cf.A4,C4,D2,etc.132. lay slain.

21.Corrupt: cf.A4,C4,D2,etc.

132. lay slain.

94On.481. decks.

94On.

481. decks.

FOOTNOTES:[136]C awas most obligingly copied, andC bcollated, for me by Professor Skeat with his own hand.[137]L, one of two copies in Buchan's MSS, would certainly have been but the slightest loss if omitted, as another, MSS II, 152, being a broadside made over for the stalls, has been.[138]Pagani appellati interdum infantes quorum certis ex causis differebatur baptismus; Ducange, s. v. Pagani, who cites, Infans infirmus et paganus commendatus presbytero, etc. Ethnicus was used in the same way.

[136]C awas most obligingly copied, andC bcollated, for me by Professor Skeat with his own hand.

[137]L, one of two copies in Buchan's MSS, would certainly have been but the slightest loss if omitted, as another, MSS II, 152, being a broadside made over for the stalls, has been.

[138]Pagani appellati interdum infantes quorum certis ex causis differebatur baptismus; Ducange, s. v. Pagani, who cites, Infans infirmus et paganus commendatus presbytero, etc. Ethnicus was used in the same way.

Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 42; Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 162.

Jamieson, in printing this ballad, gave the husband the name Lord Randal, made many changes, and introduced several stanzas, "to fill up chasms." But the chasms, such as they are, are easily leapt by the imagination, and Jamieson's interpolations are mere bridges of carpenter's work. The admirably effective burden is taken into the story at stanza 11. As Jamieson remoulds the ballad, it is no burden, but a part of the dialogue throughout.

The main part of the action is the same as in 'Little Musgrave.' The superior lyrical quality of the Scottish ballad makes up for its inferiority as a story, so that on the whole it cannot be prized much lower than the noble English ballad.

Cunningham has rewritten the ballad in his own style, pretending, as often, to have known another recited copy: 'Sir Hugh,' Songs of Scotland, II, 130.

1There was a knight, in a summer's night,Was riding oer the lee, diddleAn there he saw a bonny birdy,Was singing upon a tree. diddleO wow for day! diddleAn dear gin it were day! diddleGin it were day, an gin I were away!For I ha na lang time to stay. diddle2'Make hast, make hast, ye gentle knight,What keeps you here so late?Gin ye kent what was doing at hame,I fear you woud look blate.'3'O what needs I toil day an night,My fair body to kill,Whan I hae knights at my comman,An ladys at my will?'4'Ye lee, ye lee, ye gentle knight,Sa loud's I hear you lee;Your lady's a knight in her arms twaThat she lees far better nor the.'5'Ye lee, you lee, you bonny birdy,How you lee upo my sweet!I will tak out my bonny bow,An in troth I will you sheet.'6'But afore ye hae your bow well bent,An a' your arrows yare,I will flee till another tree,Whare I can better fare.'7'O whare was you gotten, and whare was ye clecked?My bonny birdy, tell me:''O I was clecked in good green wood,Intill a holly tree;A gentleman my nest herryed,An ga me to his lady.8'Wi good white bread an farrow-cow milkHe bade her feed me aft,An ga her a little wee simmer-dale wanny,To ding me sindle and saft.9'Wi good white bread an farrow-cow milkI wot she fed me nought,But wi a little wee simmer-dale wannyShe dang me sair an aft:Gin she had deen as ye her bade,I woudna tell how she has wrought.'10The knight he rade, and the birdy flew,The live-lang simmer's night,Till he came till his lady's bowr-door,Then even down he did light:The birdy sat on the crap of a tree,An I wot it sang fu dight.11'O wow for day! diddleAn dear gin it were day! diddleGin it were day, an gin I were away!For I ha na lang time to stay.' diddle12'What needs ye lang for day, diddle.An wish that you were away? diddleIs no your hounds i my cellar,Eating white meal an gray?' diddleO wow, etc.13'Is nae your steed in my stable,Eating good corn an hay?An is nae your hawk i my perch-tree,Just perching for his prey?An is nae yoursel i my arms twa?Then how can ye lang for day?'14'O wow for day! diddleAn dear gin it were day! diddleFor he that's in bed wi anither man's wifeHas never lang time to stay.' diddle15Then out the knight has drawn his sword,An straiked it oer a strae,An thro and thro the fa'se knight's wasteHe gard cauld iron gae:An I hope ilk ane sal sae be servdThat treats ane honest man sae.

2'Make hast, make hast, ye gentle knight,What keeps you here so late?Gin ye kent what was doing at hame,I fear you woud look blate.'

3'O what needs I toil day an night,My fair body to kill,Whan I hae knights at my comman,An ladys at my will?'

4'Ye lee, ye lee, ye gentle knight,Sa loud's I hear you lee;Your lady's a knight in her arms twaThat she lees far better nor the.'

5'Ye lee, you lee, you bonny birdy,How you lee upo my sweet!I will tak out my bonny bow,An in troth I will you sheet.'

6'But afore ye hae your bow well bent,An a' your arrows yare,I will flee till another tree,Whare I can better fare.'

7'O whare was you gotten, and whare was ye clecked?My bonny birdy, tell me:''O I was clecked in good green wood,Intill a holly tree;A gentleman my nest herryed,An ga me to his lady.

8'Wi good white bread an farrow-cow milkHe bade her feed me aft,An ga her a little wee simmer-dale wanny,To ding me sindle and saft.

9'Wi good white bread an farrow-cow milkI wot she fed me nought,But wi a little wee simmer-dale wannyShe dang me sair an aft:Gin she had deen as ye her bade,I woudna tell how she has wrought.'

10The knight he rade, and the birdy flew,The live-lang simmer's night,Till he came till his lady's bowr-door,Then even down he did light:The birdy sat on the crap of a tree,An I wot it sang fu dight.

11'O wow for day! diddleAn dear gin it were day! diddleGin it were day, an gin I were away!For I ha na lang time to stay.' diddle

12'What needs ye lang for day, diddle.An wish that you were away? diddleIs no your hounds i my cellar,Eating white meal an gray?' diddleO wow, etc.

13'Is nae your steed in my stable,Eating good corn an hay?An is nae your hawk i my perch-tree,Just perching for his prey?An is nae yoursel i my arms twa?Then how can ye lang for day?'

14'O wow for day! diddleAn dear gin it were day! diddleFor he that's in bed wi anither man's wifeHas never lang time to stay.' diddle

15Then out the knight has drawn his sword,An straiked it oer a strae,An thro and thro the fa'se knight's wasteHe gard cauld iron gae:An I hope ilk ane sal sae be servdThat treats ane honest man sae.

The burden stands thus in the manuscript after the first stanza:

O wow for day, diddleAn dear gin it were day, diddleGin it were day, diddleI were away,For I ha na lang time to stay. diddle

131. nae you. (?)

A.'Childe Maurice,' Percy MS., p. 346; Hales and Furnivall, II, 502.B.'Child Noryce,' Motherwell's MS., p. 255; Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 282.C.'Bob Norice,' Motherwell's MS., p. 510.D.'Gill Morice,' Motherwell's MS., p. 480.E.'Chield Morice,' Motherwell's MS., p. 165; Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 269.F. a.'Gil Morrice,' Percy's Reliques, III, 93, 1765.b.Letter of T. Gray, June, 1757 (?).G.Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 18, three stanzas; Jamieson, in The Scots Magazine, 1803, LXV, 698, two stanzas.

A.'Childe Maurice,' Percy MS., p. 346; Hales and Furnivall, II, 502.

B.'Child Noryce,' Motherwell's MS., p. 255; Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 282.

C.'Bob Norice,' Motherwell's MS., p. 510.

D.'Gill Morice,' Motherwell's MS., p. 480.

E.'Chield Morice,' Motherwell's MS., p. 165; Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 269.

F. a.'Gil Morrice,' Percy's Reliques, III, 93, 1765.b.Letter of T. Gray, June, 1757 (?).

G.Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 18, three stanzas; Jamieson, in The Scots Magazine, 1803, LXV, 698, two stanzas.

Awas printed from the Percy manuscript by Jamieson, in his Popular Ballads, I, 8. OfBMotherwell says, 1827: "By testimony of a most unexceptionable description, but which it would be tedious here to detail, the editor can distinctly trace this ballad as existing in its present shape at least a century ago."

In his preface to the copy of the ballad in the Reliques of Ancient Poetry (F), Percy remarks: "The following piece has lately run through two editions in Scotland, the second printed at Glasgow in 1755, 8vo. Prefixed to them both is an advertisement, setting forth that the preservation of this poem was owing 'to a lady, who favored the printers with a copy as it was carefully collected from the mouths of old women and nurses;' and 'any reader that can render it more correct or complete' is desired to oblige the public with such improvements. In consequence of this advertisement sixteen additional verses have been produced and handed about in manuscript, which are here inserted in their proper places." The copy printed in 1755[139]and earlier had already "received very considerable modern improvements," as Percy goes on to say, the most noticeable of which is a conclusion of eight stanzas, in the taste of the middle of the last century. These, as also the four stanzas which had been handed about in manuscript, are omitted from this reprint.

Home's tragedy of Douglas, produced in Edinburgh in 1756, was founded upon the story of Gil Morice, and the popularity of the play seems to have given vogue to the ballad.[140]The sophisticated copy passed into recitation, and may very likely have more or less infected those which were repeated from earlier tradition. An old woman (Mrs Thomson, the reciter ofE), who was born about the time when the ballad was printed, told Motherwell that she had learned 'Chield Morice' in her infancy from her grandmother, but at a later period of her life committed to memory 'Gil Morice,' "which began, with young lasses like her, to be a greater favorite and more fashionable than the set which her grandmother and old folks used to sing."[141]

Gray writes to Mason, June, 1757 (?): "I have got the old Scotch ballad on which Douglas was founded; it is divine, and as long as from hence [Cambridge] to Aston."[142]He cites the first fifteen lines.

The copy in Smith's Scottish Minstrel, III, 106, is Herd's (Percy's), with omissions and changes. 'Child Nourice,' a fragment, in Buchan's MSS, I, 143, is of recent make.

The name of Barnard, a name, says Aytoun, quite foreign to Scotland, may have been adopted from 'Little Musgrave.' There is a marked similarity in the conclusion of the two ballads.

Aytoun, in his compilation, I, 147, 149, rejects the two stanzas,F13, 14, beginning, "And when he came to broken brigue," as taken from 'Lady Maisry.' These stanzas are the most favorite of all commonplaces, and belong as much to one ballad as another. They occur in one version or another of 'Lord Ingram,' 'Little Musgrave,' 'The Clerk's Twa Sons,' etc., and wearisomely often in the ballads in Buchan's collection.

The popularity of 'Gil Morice' since the middle of the last century has caused the story to be localized. The green wood, says Motherwell, was believed to be "the ancient forest of Dundaff, in Stirlingshire, and Lord Barnard's castle to have occupied a precipitous cliff overhanging the Water of Carron, on the lands of Halbertshire." Gil Morice, "according to the unvarying traditions of the country, was remarkable for the extreme length and loveliness of his yellow hair." Motherwell considers that the embellishments of the ballad may have been suggested by these traditions. But why should not these traditions have been derived from the embellished ballad? There had already been nearly fourscore years for them to grow up at the date of the publication of his Minstrelsy.

Bis translated by Wolff, Halle der Völker, I, 11, Hausschatz, p. 222;Fby Loève-Veimars, p. 316, with some retrenchment; Allingham's copy by Knortz, Lieder u. Romanzen Alt-Englands, No 31.

Percy MS., p. 346; Hales and Furnivall, II, 502.

1Childe Maurice hunted ithe siluer wood,He hunted itt round about,And noebodyethat he ffound therin,Nor none there was with-out.2. . . . . . .. . . . . . .And he tooke his siluer combe in his hand,To kembe his yellow lockes.3He sayes, Come hither, thou litle ffoot-page,That runneth lowlye by my knee,Ffor thou shalt goe to Iohn Stewards wiffeAnd pray her speake with mee.4' . . . . . . .. . . . . . .I, and greete thou doethat ladye well,Euer soe well ffroe mee.5'And, as itt ffalls, as many timesAs knotts beene knitt on a kell,Or marchant men gone to leeue London,Either to buy ware or sell.6'And, as itt ffalles, as many timesAs any hart can thinke,Or schoole-masters are in any schoole-house,Writting with pen and inke:Ffor if I might, as well as shee may,This night I wold with her speake.7'And heere I send her a mantle of greene,As greene as any grasse,And bidd her come to the siluer wood,To hunt with Child Maurice.8'And there I send her a ring of gold,A ring of precyous stone,And bidd her come to the siluer wood,Let ffor no kind of man.'9One while this litle boy he yode,Another while he ran,Vntill he came to Iohn Stewards hall,I-wis he neuer blan.10And of nurture the child had good,Hee ran vp hall and bower ffree,And when he came to this lady ffaire,Sayes, God you saue and see!11'I am come ffrom Ch[i]ld Maurice,A message vnto thee;And Child Maurice, he greetes you well,And euer soe well ffrom mee.12'And, as itt ffalls, as oftentimesAs knotts beene knitt on a kell,Or marchant-men gone to leeue London,Either ffor to buy ware or sell.13'And as oftentimes he greetes you wellAs any hart can thinke,Or schoolemasters [are] in any schoole,Wryting with pen and inke.14'And heere he sends a mantle of greene,As greene as any grasse,And he bidds you come to the siluer wood,To hunt with Child Maurice.15'And heere he sends you a ring of gold,A ring of the precyous stone;He prayes you to come to the siluer wood,Let ffor no kind of man.'16'Now peace, now peace, thou litle ffoot-page,Ffor Christes sake, I pray thee!Ffor if my lordheare one of these words,Thou must be hanged hye!'17Iohn Steward stood vnder the castle-wall,And he wrote the words euerye one,. . . . . . .. . . . . . .18And he called vnto his hors-keeper,'Make readye you my steede!'I, and soe hee did to his chamberlaine,'Make readye thou my weede!'19And he cast a lease vpon his backe,And he rode to the siluer wood,And there he sought all about,About the siluer wood.20And there he ffound him Child MauriceSitting vpon a blocke,With a siluer combe in his hand,Kembing his yellow locke[s.]* * * * *21But then stood vp him Child Maurice,And sayd these words trulye:'I doe not know your ladye,' he said,'Ifthat I doe her see.'22He sayes, How now, how now, Child Maurice?Alacke, how may this bee?Ffor thou hast sent her loue-tokens,More now then two or three.23'Ffor thou hast sent her a mantle of greene,As greene as any grasse,And bade her come to the siluer woode,To hunt with Child Maurice.24'And thou [hast] sent her a ring of gold,A ring of precyous stone,And bade her come to the siluer wood,Let ffor noe kind of man.25'And by my ffaith, now, Child Maurice,The tone of vs shall dye!''Now be my troth,' sayd Child Maurice,'Andthat shall not be I.'26But hee pulled forth a bright browne sword,And dryed itt on the grasse,And soe ffast he smote att Iohn Steward,I-wisse he neuer [did] rest.27Then hee pulled fforth his bright browne sword,And dryed itt on his sleeue,And the ffirst good stroke Iohn Stewart stroke,Child Maurice head he did cleeue.28And he pricked itt on his swords poynt,Went singing there beside,And he rode till he came tothat ladye ffaire,Wheras this ladye lyed.29And sayes, Dost thou know Child Maurice head,Ifthat thou dost itt see?And lapp itt soft, and kisse itt offt,Ffor thou louedst him better than mee.'30But when shee looked on Child Maurice head,Shee neuer spake words but three:'I neuer beare no child but one,And you haue slaine him trulye.'31Sayes, Wicked be my merrymen all,I gaue meate, drinke, and clothe!But cold they not haue holden meWhen I was in allthat wrath!32'Ffor I haue slaine one of the curteousest knightsThat euer bestrode a steed,Soe haue I done one [of] the fairest ladyesThat euer ware womans weede!'

1Childe Maurice hunted ithe siluer wood,He hunted itt round about,And noebodyethat he ffound therin,Nor none there was with-out.

2. . . . . . .. . . . . . .And he tooke his siluer combe in his hand,To kembe his yellow lockes.

3He sayes, Come hither, thou litle ffoot-page,That runneth lowlye by my knee,Ffor thou shalt goe to Iohn Stewards wiffeAnd pray her speake with mee.

4' . . . . . . .. . . . . . .I, and greete thou doethat ladye well,Euer soe well ffroe mee.

5'And, as itt ffalls, as many timesAs knotts beene knitt on a kell,Or marchant men gone to leeue London,Either to buy ware or sell.

6'And, as itt ffalles, as many timesAs any hart can thinke,Or schoole-masters are in any schoole-house,Writting with pen and inke:Ffor if I might, as well as shee may,This night I wold with her speake.

7'And heere I send her a mantle of greene,As greene as any grasse,And bidd her come to the siluer wood,To hunt with Child Maurice.

8'And there I send her a ring of gold,A ring of precyous stone,And bidd her come to the siluer wood,Let ffor no kind of man.'

9One while this litle boy he yode,Another while he ran,Vntill he came to Iohn Stewards hall,I-wis he neuer blan.

10And of nurture the child had good,Hee ran vp hall and bower ffree,And when he came to this lady ffaire,Sayes, God you saue and see!

11'I am come ffrom Ch[i]ld Maurice,A message vnto thee;And Child Maurice, he greetes you well,And euer soe well ffrom mee.

12'And, as itt ffalls, as oftentimesAs knotts beene knitt on a kell,Or marchant-men gone to leeue London,Either ffor to buy ware or sell.

13'And as oftentimes he greetes you wellAs any hart can thinke,Or schoolemasters [are] in any schoole,Wryting with pen and inke.

14'And heere he sends a mantle of greene,As greene as any grasse,And he bidds you come to the siluer wood,To hunt with Child Maurice.

15'And heere he sends you a ring of gold,A ring of the precyous stone;He prayes you to come to the siluer wood,Let ffor no kind of man.'

16'Now peace, now peace, thou litle ffoot-page,Ffor Christes sake, I pray thee!Ffor if my lordheare one of these words,Thou must be hanged hye!'

17Iohn Steward stood vnder the castle-wall,And he wrote the words euerye one,. . . . . . .. . . . . . .

18And he called vnto his hors-keeper,'Make readye you my steede!'I, and soe hee did to his chamberlaine,'Make readye thou my weede!'

19And he cast a lease vpon his backe,And he rode to the siluer wood,And there he sought all about,About the siluer wood.

20And there he ffound him Child MauriceSitting vpon a blocke,With a siluer combe in his hand,Kembing his yellow locke[s.]

* * * * *

21But then stood vp him Child Maurice,And sayd these words trulye:'I doe not know your ladye,' he said,'Ifthat I doe her see.'

22He sayes, How now, how now, Child Maurice?Alacke, how may this bee?Ffor thou hast sent her loue-tokens,More now then two or three.

23'Ffor thou hast sent her a mantle of greene,As greene as any grasse,And bade her come to the siluer woode,To hunt with Child Maurice.

24'And thou [hast] sent her a ring of gold,A ring of precyous stone,And bade her come to the siluer wood,Let ffor noe kind of man.

25'And by my ffaith, now, Child Maurice,The tone of vs shall dye!''Now be my troth,' sayd Child Maurice,'Andthat shall not be I.'

26But hee pulled forth a bright browne sword,And dryed itt on the grasse,And soe ffast he smote att Iohn Steward,I-wisse he neuer [did] rest.

27Then hee pulled fforth his bright browne sword,And dryed itt on his sleeue,And the ffirst good stroke Iohn Stewart stroke,Child Maurice head he did cleeue.

28And he pricked itt on his swords poynt,Went singing there beside,And he rode till he came tothat ladye ffaire,Wheras this ladye lyed.

29And sayes, Dost thou know Child Maurice head,Ifthat thou dost itt see?And lapp itt soft, and kisse itt offt,Ffor thou louedst him better than mee.'

30But when shee looked on Child Maurice head,Shee neuer spake words but three:'I neuer beare no child but one,And you haue slaine him trulye.'

31Sayes, Wicked be my merrymen all,I gaue meate, drinke, and clothe!But cold they not haue holden meWhen I was in allthat wrath!

32'Ffor I haue slaine one of the curteousest knightsThat euer bestrode a steed,Soe haue I done one [of] the fairest ladyesThat euer ware womans weede!'

Motherwell's MS., p. 255; Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 282. From the singing of Widow McCormick, Paisley, January 19, 1825. Learned by her of an old woman in Dumbarton: Motherwell's Note Book, fol. 4.

1Child Noryce is a clever young man,He wavers wi the wind;His horse was silver-shod before,With the beaten gold behind.2He called to his little man John,Saying, You don't see what I see;For O yonder I see the very first womanThat ever loved me.3'Here is a glove, a glove,' he said,'Lined with the silver grey;You may tell her to come to the merry green-wood,To speak to Child Nory.4'Here is a ring, a ring,' he says,'It's all gold but the stane;You may tell her to come to the merry green-wood,And ask the leave o nane.'5'So well do I love your errand, my master,But far better do I love my life;O would ye have me go to Lord Barnard's castle,To betray away his wife?'6'O don't I give you meat,' he says,'And don't I pay you fee?How dare you stop my errand?' he says;'My orders you must obey.'7O when he came to Lord Bernard's castle,He tinkled at the ring;Who was as ready as Lord Barnard himselfTo let this little boy in?8'Here is a glove, a glove,' he says,'Lined with the silver grey;You are bidden to come to the merry green-wood,To speak to Child Nory.9'Here is a ring, a ring,' he says,'It's all gold but the stane;You are bidden to come to the merry green-wood,And ask the leave o nane.'10Lord Barnard he was standing by,And an angry man was he:'O little did I think there was a lord in the worldMy lady loved but me!'11O he dressed himself in the holland smock,And garments that was gay,And he is away to the merry green-wood,To speak to Child Nory.12Child Noryce sits on yonder tree,He whistles and he sings:'O wae be to me,' says Child Noryce,'Yonder my mother comes!'13Child Noryce he came off the tree,His mother to take off the horse:'Och alace, alace,' says Child Noryce,'My mother was neer so gross!'14Lord Barnard he had a little small sword,That hung low down by his knee;He cut the head off Child Noryce,And put the body on a tree.15And when he came home to his castell,And to his ladie's hall,He threw the head into her lap,Saying, Lady, there's a ball!16She turned up the bloody head,She kissed it frae cheek to chin:'Far better do I love this bloody headThan all my royal kin.17'When I was in my father's castel,In my virginity,There came a lord into the North,Gat Child Noryce with me.'18'O wae be to thee, Lady Margaret,' he sayd,'And an ill death may you die;For if you had told me he was your son,He had neer been slain by me.'

1Child Noryce is a clever young man,He wavers wi the wind;His horse was silver-shod before,With the beaten gold behind.

2He called to his little man John,Saying, You don't see what I see;For O yonder I see the very first womanThat ever loved me.

3'Here is a glove, a glove,' he said,'Lined with the silver grey;You may tell her to come to the merry green-wood,To speak to Child Nory.

4'Here is a ring, a ring,' he says,'It's all gold but the stane;You may tell her to come to the merry green-wood,And ask the leave o nane.'

5'So well do I love your errand, my master,But far better do I love my life;O would ye have me go to Lord Barnard's castle,To betray away his wife?'

6'O don't I give you meat,' he says,'And don't I pay you fee?How dare you stop my errand?' he says;'My orders you must obey.'

7O when he came to Lord Bernard's castle,He tinkled at the ring;Who was as ready as Lord Barnard himselfTo let this little boy in?

8'Here is a glove, a glove,' he says,'Lined with the silver grey;You are bidden to come to the merry green-wood,To speak to Child Nory.

9'Here is a ring, a ring,' he says,'It's all gold but the stane;You are bidden to come to the merry green-wood,And ask the leave o nane.'

10Lord Barnard he was standing by,And an angry man was he:'O little did I think there was a lord in the worldMy lady loved but me!'

11O he dressed himself in the holland smock,And garments that was gay,And he is away to the merry green-wood,To speak to Child Nory.

12Child Noryce sits on yonder tree,He whistles and he sings:'O wae be to me,' says Child Noryce,'Yonder my mother comes!'

13Child Noryce he came off the tree,His mother to take off the horse:'Och alace, alace,' says Child Noryce,'My mother was neer so gross!'

14Lord Barnard he had a little small sword,That hung low down by his knee;He cut the head off Child Noryce,And put the body on a tree.

15And when he came home to his castell,And to his ladie's hall,He threw the head into her lap,Saying, Lady, there's a ball!

16She turned up the bloody head,She kissed it frae cheek to chin:'Far better do I love this bloody headThan all my royal kin.

17'When I was in my father's castel,In my virginity,There came a lord into the North,Gat Child Noryce with me.'

18'O wae be to thee, Lady Margaret,' he sayd,'And an ill death may you die;For if you had told me he was your son,He had neer been slain by me.'

Motherwell's MS., p. 510, from the singing of Mrs Storie, wife of William Storie, laborer, Lochwinnoch. A song of Mrs Storie's grandmother.

1Bob Norice is to the grein-wud gane,He is awa wi the wind;His horse is siller-shod afore,In the shynand gowd ahind.2He said unto his wee boy John,I sie what ye dinna sie;I see the [first] woman that I eer luvit,Or ever luvit me.3'Gae tak to hir this pair o gluvis,They're o the siller-gray,And tell her to cum to the merrie grein-wudAn speik to Bob Norice.4'Gae tak to her this gay gowd ring,And it's aw gowd but the stane,And tell her to cum to the merrie grein-wud,And ask the leive o nane.5'Gae tak to her this braw manteil,It's a' silk but the sleive,And tell her to cum to the merrie green-wud,And ax nae bauld Barnet's leive.'6'I daurna gang to Lord Barnet's castel,I daurna gang for my lyfe;I daurna gang to Lord Barnet's castell,To twyne him o his wife.'7'Do I nae pay you gowd?' he said,'Do I nae pay you fee?How daur you stand my bidding, Sir,Whan I bid you to flee?'8'Gif I maun gang to Lord Barnet's castel,Sae sair agane my will,I vow a vow, and I do protest,It sall be dune for ill.'9But whan he came to Lord Barnet's castelHe tinklet at the ring;Tha war nane sae ready as Lord Barnet himsellTo let the wee calland in.10'What news, what news, my bonnie wee boy?What news hae ye to me?''Nae news, nae news, Lord Barnet,' he said,'But your ladie I fain would see.11'Here is a pair o gluves to her,Thay'r o the silver gray;And tell her to cum to the merrie green-wud,And speik to Bob Norice.12'Here is a gay gowd ring to her,It's aw gowd but the stane;And she maun cum to the merrie green-wud,And speir the leive o nane.13'Here is a gay manteil to her,It's aw silk but the sleive;And she maun cum to the merrie grein-wud,And ask not bauld Barnet's leive.'14Then out bespack the yellow nurse,Wi the babie on her knee,Sayand, Gif thay be cum frae Bob Norice,They are welcum to me.15'O haud your tung, ye yellow nurse,Aloud an I heir ye lie;For they're to Lord Barnet's lady,I trew that this be she.'16Lord Barnet's to a dressing-room,And buskt him in woman's array,And he's awa to the merrie green-wud,To speik to Bob Norrice.17Bob Norrice he sits on a tree,He is whissland and singand;Says, Merrie, merrie may my hert be,I see my mither cumand.18Bob Norice he cam doun frae the trie,To help his mother to licht fra her horss;'Och alace, alace,' says Bob Norice,'My mither was neer sae gross!'19Lord Barnet had a not-brown sword,That hung down by his knee,And he has cut Bob Norice heidAff frae his fair bodie.20He tuke the bluidy head in his hand,And he brocht it to the ha,And flang it into his lady's lap,Sayand, Lady, there is a ba!21She took the bluidy heid in her hand,And kisst it frae cheik to chin,Sayand, Better I lyke that well faurit faceNor aw my royal kin.22'Whan I was in my father's bour,A' in my dignity,An Englis lord a visit came,Gat Bob Norice wi me.'23Then out bespak Lord Barnet syne,And a wae, wae man was he,Sayand, Gif I had kent he was your son,He wuld neer been killit be me.

1Bob Norice is to the grein-wud gane,He is awa wi the wind;His horse is siller-shod afore,In the shynand gowd ahind.

2He said unto his wee boy John,I sie what ye dinna sie;I see the [first] woman that I eer luvit,Or ever luvit me.

3'Gae tak to hir this pair o gluvis,They're o the siller-gray,And tell her to cum to the merrie grein-wudAn speik to Bob Norice.

4'Gae tak to her this gay gowd ring,And it's aw gowd but the stane,And tell her to cum to the merrie grein-wud,And ask the leive o nane.

5'Gae tak to her this braw manteil,It's a' silk but the sleive,And tell her to cum to the merrie green-wud,And ax nae bauld Barnet's leive.'

6'I daurna gang to Lord Barnet's castel,I daurna gang for my lyfe;I daurna gang to Lord Barnet's castell,To twyne him o his wife.'

7'Do I nae pay you gowd?' he said,'Do I nae pay you fee?How daur you stand my bidding, Sir,Whan I bid you to flee?'

8'Gif I maun gang to Lord Barnet's castel,Sae sair agane my will,I vow a vow, and I do protest,It sall be dune for ill.'

9But whan he came to Lord Barnet's castelHe tinklet at the ring;Tha war nane sae ready as Lord Barnet himsellTo let the wee calland in.

10'What news, what news, my bonnie wee boy?What news hae ye to me?''Nae news, nae news, Lord Barnet,' he said,'But your ladie I fain would see.

11'Here is a pair o gluves to her,Thay'r o the silver gray;And tell her to cum to the merrie green-wud,And speik to Bob Norice.

12'Here is a gay gowd ring to her,It's aw gowd but the stane;And she maun cum to the merrie green-wud,And speir the leive o nane.

13'Here is a gay manteil to her,It's aw silk but the sleive;And she maun cum to the merrie grein-wud,And ask not bauld Barnet's leive.'

14Then out bespack the yellow nurse,Wi the babie on her knee,Sayand, Gif thay be cum frae Bob Norice,They are welcum to me.

15'O haud your tung, ye yellow nurse,Aloud an I heir ye lie;For they're to Lord Barnet's lady,I trew that this be she.'

16Lord Barnet's to a dressing-room,And buskt him in woman's array,And he's awa to the merrie green-wud,To speik to Bob Norrice.

17Bob Norrice he sits on a tree,He is whissland and singand;Says, Merrie, merrie may my hert be,I see my mither cumand.

18Bob Norice he cam doun frae the trie,To help his mother to licht fra her horss;'Och alace, alace,' says Bob Norice,'My mither was neer sae gross!'

19Lord Barnet had a not-brown sword,That hung down by his knee,And he has cut Bob Norice heidAff frae his fair bodie.

20He tuke the bluidy head in his hand,And he brocht it to the ha,And flang it into his lady's lap,Sayand, Lady, there is a ba!

21She took the bluidy heid in her hand,And kisst it frae cheik to chin,Sayand, Better I lyke that well faurit faceNor aw my royal kin.

22'Whan I was in my father's bour,A' in my dignity,An Englis lord a visit came,Gat Bob Norice wi me.'

23Then out bespak Lord Barnet syne,And a wae, wae man was he,Sayand, Gif I had kent he was your son,He wuld neer been killit be me.

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