262LORD LIVINGSTON

‘Lord Livingston,’ Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 39.

As far as can be made out, Livingston and Seaton engage themselves to play against one another at some game, the victor expecting to stand the better in the eyes of a lady. They then proceed to Edinburgh castle, where a lady, whose ‘gowns seem like green,’ marshals the company in pairs, and chooses Livingston for her own partner. This preference enrages Seaton, who challenges Livingston to fight with him the next day. Up to this point the pairing may have been for a dance, or what not, but now we are told that Livingston and the fair dame are laid in the same bed, and further on that they were wedded that same night. In the morning Livingston arms himself for his fight; he declines to let his lady dress herself in man’s clothes and fight in his stead. On his way ‘to plain fields’ a witch warns him that she has had the dream which Sweet William dreams in No 74, and others elsewhere. Livingston is ‘slain,’ but for all that stands presently bleeding by his lady’s knee: see No 73,B34,D17. She begs him to hold out but half an hour, and every leech in Edinburgh shall come to him: see No 88,A12, etc. He orders his lands to be dealt to the auld that may not, the young that cannot, etc.: see No 92,A10,B15. The lady declares that it was known from her birth that she was to marry a knight and lose him the next day. She will now do for his sake what other ladies would not be equal to (and which nevertheless many other ballad-ladies have undertaken, as in No 69 and elsewhere).When seven years are near an end her heart breaks.

This ballad, or something like it, was known at the end of the last century. The story has a faint resemblance to that of ‘Armstrong and Musgrave,’ a broadside printed in the last quarter of the seventeenth century: Crawford Ballads, No 123, Old Ballads, 1723, I, 175; Evans, Old Ballads, 1777, II, 70. Pinkerton acknowledges that he composed the ‘Lord Livingston’ of his Tragic Ballads, 1781, p. 69, but he says that he had “small lines from tradition.” (Ancient Scotish Poems, 1786, I, cxxxi.) Pinkerton’s ballad is the one which Buchan refers to, II, 308. It is translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og skotske Folkeviser, p. 139, No 21.

1It fell about the Lammas time,When wightsmen won their hay,A’ the squires in merry LinkumWent a’ forth till a play.2They playd until the evening tide,The sun was gaeing down;A lady thro plain fields was bound,A lily leesome thing.3Two squires that for this lady pledged,In hopes for a renown,The one was calld the proud Seaton,The other Livingston.4‘When will ye, Michaell o Livingston,Wad for this lady gay?’‘To-morrow, to-morrow,’ said Livingston,‘To-morrow, if you may.’5Then they hae wadded their wagers,And laid their pledges down;To the high castle o EdinbroThey made them ready boun.6The chamber that they did gang in,There it was daily dight;The kipples were like the gude red gowd,As they stood up in hight,And the roof-tree like the siller white,And shin’d like candles bright.7The lady fair into that haWas comely to be seen;Her kirtle was made o the pa,Her gowns seemd o the green.8Her gowns seemd like green, like green,Her kirtle o the pa;A siller wand intill her hand,She marshalld ower them a’.9She gae every knight a lady bright,And every squire a may;Her own sell chose him Livingston,They were a comely tway.10Then Seaton started till his foot,The fierce flame in his ee:‘On the next day, wi sword in hand,On plain fields meet ye me.’11When bells were rung, and mass was sung,And a’ man bound for bed,Lord Livingston and his fair dameIn bed were sweetly laid.12The bed, the bed where they lay inWas coverd wi the pa;A covering o the gude red gowdLay nightly ower the twa.13So they lay there, till on the mornThe sun shone on their feet;Then up it raise him LivingstonTo draw to him a weed.14The first an weed that he drew onWas o the linen clear;The next an weed that he drew on,It was a weed o weir.15The niest an weed that he drew onWas gude iron and steel;Twa gloves o plate, a gowden helmet,Became that hind chiel weel.16Then out it speaks that lady gay—A little forbye stood she—‘I’ll dress mysell in men’s array,Gae to the fields for thee.’17‘O God forbid,’ said Livingston,‘That eer I dree the shame;My lady slain in plain fields,And I coward knight at hame!’18He scarcely travelled frae the townA mile but barely twaTill he met wi a witch-woman,I pray to send her wae!19‘This is too gude a day, my lord,To gang sae far frae town;This is too gude a day, my lord,On field to make you boun.20‘I dreamd a dream concerning thee,O read ill dreams to guid!Your bower was full o milk-white swans,Your bride’s bed full o bluid.’21‘O bluid is gude,’ said Livingston,‘To bide it whoso may;If I be frae yon plain fields,Nane knew the plight I lay.’22Then he rade on to plain fieldsAs swift’s his horse coud hie,And there he met the proud Seaton,Come boldly ower the lee.23‘Come on to me now, Livingston,Or then take foot and flee;This is the day that we must tryWho gains the victorie.’24Then they fought with sword in handTill they were bluidy men;But on the point o Seaton’s swordBrave Livingston was slain.25His lady lay ower castle-wa,Beholding dale and down,When Blenchant brave, his gallant steed,Came prancing to the town.26‘O where is now my ain gude lordHe stays sae far frae me?’‘O dinna ye see your ain gude lordStand bleeding by your knee?’27‘O live, O live, Lord Livingston,The space o ae half hour,There’s nae a leech in Edinbro townBut I’ll bring to your door.’28‘Awa wi your leeches, lady,’ he said,‘Of them I’ll be the waur;There’s nae a leech in Edinbro townThat can strong death debar.29‘Ye’ll take the lands o LivingstonAnd deal them liberallie,To the auld that may not, the young that cannot,And blind that does na see,And help young maidens’ marriages,That has nae gear to gie.’30‘My mother got it in a book,The first night I was born,I woud be wedded till a knight,And him slain on the morn.31‘But I will do for my love’s sakeWhat ladies woudna thole;Ere seven years shall hae an end,Nae shoe’s gang on my sole.32‘There’s never lint gang on my head,Nor kame gang in my hair,Nor ever coal nor candle-lightShine in my bower mair.’33When seven years were near an end,The lady she thought lang,And wi a crack her heart did brake,And sae this ends my sang.

1It fell about the Lammas time,When wightsmen won their hay,A’ the squires in merry LinkumWent a’ forth till a play.

It fell about the Lammas time,

When wightsmen won their hay,

A’ the squires in merry Linkum

Went a’ forth till a play.

2They playd until the evening tide,The sun was gaeing down;A lady thro plain fields was bound,A lily leesome thing.

They playd until the evening tide,

The sun was gaeing down;

A lady thro plain fields was bound,

A lily leesome thing.

3Two squires that for this lady pledged,In hopes for a renown,The one was calld the proud Seaton,The other Livingston.

Two squires that for this lady pledged,

In hopes for a renown,

The one was calld the proud Seaton,

The other Livingston.

4‘When will ye, Michaell o Livingston,Wad for this lady gay?’‘To-morrow, to-morrow,’ said Livingston,‘To-morrow, if you may.’

‘When will ye, Michaell o Livingston,

Wad for this lady gay?’

‘To-morrow, to-morrow,’ said Livingston,

‘To-morrow, if you may.’

5Then they hae wadded their wagers,And laid their pledges down;To the high castle o EdinbroThey made them ready boun.

Then they hae wadded their wagers,

And laid their pledges down;

To the high castle o Edinbro

They made them ready boun.

6The chamber that they did gang in,There it was daily dight;The kipples were like the gude red gowd,As they stood up in hight,And the roof-tree like the siller white,And shin’d like candles bright.

The chamber that they did gang in,

There it was daily dight;

The kipples were like the gude red gowd,

As they stood up in hight,

And the roof-tree like the siller white,

And shin’d like candles bright.

7The lady fair into that haWas comely to be seen;Her kirtle was made o the pa,Her gowns seemd o the green.

The lady fair into that ha

Was comely to be seen;

Her kirtle was made o the pa,

Her gowns seemd o the green.

8Her gowns seemd like green, like green,Her kirtle o the pa;A siller wand intill her hand,She marshalld ower them a’.

Her gowns seemd like green, like green,

Her kirtle o the pa;

A siller wand intill her hand,

She marshalld ower them a’.

9She gae every knight a lady bright,And every squire a may;Her own sell chose him Livingston,They were a comely tway.

She gae every knight a lady bright,

And every squire a may;

Her own sell chose him Livingston,

They were a comely tway.

10Then Seaton started till his foot,The fierce flame in his ee:‘On the next day, wi sword in hand,On plain fields meet ye me.’

Then Seaton started till his foot,

The fierce flame in his ee:

‘On the next day, wi sword in hand,

On plain fields meet ye me.’

11When bells were rung, and mass was sung,And a’ man bound for bed,Lord Livingston and his fair dameIn bed were sweetly laid.

When bells were rung, and mass was sung,

And a’ man bound for bed,

Lord Livingston and his fair dame

In bed were sweetly laid.

12The bed, the bed where they lay inWas coverd wi the pa;A covering o the gude red gowdLay nightly ower the twa.

The bed, the bed where they lay in

Was coverd wi the pa;

A covering o the gude red gowd

Lay nightly ower the twa.

13So they lay there, till on the mornThe sun shone on their feet;Then up it raise him LivingstonTo draw to him a weed.

So they lay there, till on the morn

The sun shone on their feet;

Then up it raise him Livingston

To draw to him a weed.

14The first an weed that he drew onWas o the linen clear;The next an weed that he drew on,It was a weed o weir.

The first an weed that he drew on

Was o the linen clear;

The next an weed that he drew on,

It was a weed o weir.

15The niest an weed that he drew onWas gude iron and steel;Twa gloves o plate, a gowden helmet,Became that hind chiel weel.

The niest an weed that he drew on

Was gude iron and steel;

Twa gloves o plate, a gowden helmet,

Became that hind chiel weel.

16Then out it speaks that lady gay—A little forbye stood she—‘I’ll dress mysell in men’s array,Gae to the fields for thee.’

Then out it speaks that lady gay—

A little forbye stood she—

‘I’ll dress mysell in men’s array,

Gae to the fields for thee.’

17‘O God forbid,’ said Livingston,‘That eer I dree the shame;My lady slain in plain fields,And I coward knight at hame!’

‘O God forbid,’ said Livingston,

‘That eer I dree the shame;

My lady slain in plain fields,

And I coward knight at hame!’

18He scarcely travelled frae the townA mile but barely twaTill he met wi a witch-woman,I pray to send her wae!

He scarcely travelled frae the town

A mile but barely twa

Till he met wi a witch-woman,

I pray to send her wae!

19‘This is too gude a day, my lord,To gang sae far frae town;This is too gude a day, my lord,On field to make you boun.

‘This is too gude a day, my lord,

To gang sae far frae town;

This is too gude a day, my lord,

On field to make you boun.

20‘I dreamd a dream concerning thee,O read ill dreams to guid!Your bower was full o milk-white swans,Your bride’s bed full o bluid.’

‘I dreamd a dream concerning thee,

O read ill dreams to guid!

Your bower was full o milk-white swans,

Your bride’s bed full o bluid.’

21‘O bluid is gude,’ said Livingston,‘To bide it whoso may;If I be frae yon plain fields,Nane knew the plight I lay.’

‘O bluid is gude,’ said Livingston,

‘To bide it whoso may;

If I be frae yon plain fields,

Nane knew the plight I lay.’

22Then he rade on to plain fieldsAs swift’s his horse coud hie,And there he met the proud Seaton,Come boldly ower the lee.

Then he rade on to plain fields

As swift’s his horse coud hie,

And there he met the proud Seaton,

Come boldly ower the lee.

23‘Come on to me now, Livingston,Or then take foot and flee;This is the day that we must tryWho gains the victorie.’

‘Come on to me now, Livingston,

Or then take foot and flee;

This is the day that we must try

Who gains the victorie.’

24Then they fought with sword in handTill they were bluidy men;But on the point o Seaton’s swordBrave Livingston was slain.

Then they fought with sword in hand

Till they were bluidy men;

But on the point o Seaton’s sword

Brave Livingston was slain.

25His lady lay ower castle-wa,Beholding dale and down,When Blenchant brave, his gallant steed,Came prancing to the town.

His lady lay ower castle-wa,

Beholding dale and down,

When Blenchant brave, his gallant steed,

Came prancing to the town.

26‘O where is now my ain gude lordHe stays sae far frae me?’‘O dinna ye see your ain gude lordStand bleeding by your knee?’

‘O where is now my ain gude lord

He stays sae far frae me?’

‘O dinna ye see your ain gude lord

Stand bleeding by your knee?’

27‘O live, O live, Lord Livingston,The space o ae half hour,There’s nae a leech in Edinbro townBut I’ll bring to your door.’

‘O live, O live, Lord Livingston,

The space o ae half hour,

There’s nae a leech in Edinbro town

But I’ll bring to your door.’

28‘Awa wi your leeches, lady,’ he said,‘Of them I’ll be the waur;There’s nae a leech in Edinbro townThat can strong death debar.

‘Awa wi your leeches, lady,’ he said,

‘Of them I’ll be the waur;

There’s nae a leech in Edinbro town

That can strong death debar.

29‘Ye’ll take the lands o LivingstonAnd deal them liberallie,To the auld that may not, the young that cannot,And blind that does na see,And help young maidens’ marriages,That has nae gear to gie.’

‘Ye’ll take the lands o Livingston

And deal them liberallie,

To the auld that may not, the young that cannot,

And blind that does na see,

And help young maidens’ marriages,

That has nae gear to gie.’

30‘My mother got it in a book,The first night I was born,I woud be wedded till a knight,And him slain on the morn.

‘My mother got it in a book,

The first night I was born,

I woud be wedded till a knight,

And him slain on the morn.

31‘But I will do for my love’s sakeWhat ladies woudna thole;Ere seven years shall hae an end,Nae shoe’s gang on my sole.

‘But I will do for my love’s sake

What ladies woudna thole;

Ere seven years shall hae an end,

Nae shoe’s gang on my sole.

32‘There’s never lint gang on my head,Nor kame gang in my hair,Nor ever coal nor candle-lightShine in my bower mair.’

‘There’s never lint gang on my head,

Nor kame gang in my hair,

Nor ever coal nor candle-light

Shine in my bower mair.’

33When seven years were near an end,The lady she thought lang,And wi a crack her heart did brake,And sae this ends my sang.

When seven years were near an end,

The lady she thought lang,

And wi a crack her heart did brake,

And sae this ends my sang.

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