Chapter 100

Her horse was o the dapple-gray,And in her hands she held bells nine:‘Harp and carp, Thomas,’ she said,‘For a’ thae bonny bells shall be thine.’It was a night without delight,And they rade on and on, I wiss, (amiss)Till they came to a garden green;He reached his hand to pu an apple,For lack o fruit he was like to tyne.‘Now had your hand, Thomas,’ she said,‘Had your hand, and go wi me;That is the evil fruit o hell,Beguiled man and women in your countrie.‘O see you not that road, Thomas,That lies down by that little hill?Curst is the man has that road to gang,For it takes him to the lowest hell.‘O see you not that road, Thomas,That lies across yon lily lea?Blest is the man has that road to gang,For it takes him to the heavens hie.‘When ye come to my father’s ha,To see what a learned man you beThey will you question, one and a’,But you must answer none but me,And I will answer them againI gat you at the Eildon tree.’And when, etc.He answered none but that gay ladie.‘Harp and carp, gin ye gang wi me,It shall be seven year and dayOr ye return to your countrie.‘Wherever ye gang, or wherever ye be,Ye’se bear the tongue that can never lie.‘Gin ere ye want to see me again,Gang to the bonny banks o Farnalie.’

Her horse was o the dapple-gray,And in her hands she held bells nine:‘Harp and carp, Thomas,’ she said,‘For a’ thae bonny bells shall be thine.’

Her horse was o the dapple-gray,

And in her hands she held bells nine:

‘Harp and carp, Thomas,’ she said,

‘For a’ thae bonny bells shall be thine.’

It was a night without delight,

And they rade on and on, I wiss, (amiss)Till they came to a garden green;He reached his hand to pu an apple,For lack o fruit he was like to tyne.

And they rade on and on, I wiss, (amiss)

Till they came to a garden green;

He reached his hand to pu an apple,

For lack o fruit he was like to tyne.

‘Now had your hand, Thomas,’ she said,‘Had your hand, and go wi me;That is the evil fruit o hell,Beguiled man and women in your countrie.

‘Now had your hand, Thomas,’ she said,

‘Had your hand, and go wi me;

That is the evil fruit o hell,

Beguiled man and women in your countrie.

‘O see you not that road, Thomas,That lies down by that little hill?Curst is the man has that road to gang,For it takes him to the lowest hell.

‘O see you not that road, Thomas,

That lies down by that little hill?

Curst is the man has that road to gang,

For it takes him to the lowest hell.

‘O see you not that road, Thomas,That lies across yon lily lea?Blest is the man has that road to gang,For it takes him to the heavens hie.

‘O see you not that road, Thomas,

That lies across yon lily lea?

Blest is the man has that road to gang,

For it takes him to the heavens hie.

‘When ye come to my father’s ha,To see what a learned man you beThey will you question, one and a’,But you must answer none but me,And I will answer them againI gat you at the Eildon tree.’

‘When ye come to my father’s ha,

To see what a learned man you be

They will you question, one and a’,

But you must answer none but me,

And I will answer them again

I gat you at the Eildon tree.’

And when, etc.He answered none but that gay ladie.

And when, etc.

He answered none but that gay ladie.

‘Harp and carp, gin ye gang wi me,It shall be seven year and dayOr ye return to your countrie.

‘Harp and carp, gin ye gang wi me,

It shall be seven year and day

Or ye return to your countrie.

‘Wherever ye gang, or wherever ye be,Ye’se bear the tongue that can never lie.

‘Wherever ye gang, or wherever ye be,

Ye’se bear the tongue that can never lie.

‘Gin ere ye want to see me again,Gang to the bonny banks o Farnalie.’

‘Gin ere ye want to see me again,

Gang to the bonny banks o Farnalie.’

‘Thomas the Rhymer,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 97, Abbotsford; communicated to Sir Walter Scott by Mrs Christiana Greenwood, London, May 27, 1806 (Letters, I, 189), from the recitation of her mother and of her aunt, both then above sixty, who learned it in their childhood from Kirstan Scot, a very old woman, at Longnewton, near Jedburgh.

1Thomas lay on the Huntlie bank,A spying ferlies wi his eee,And he did spy a lady gay,Come riding down by the lang lee.2Her steed was o the dapple grey,And at its mane there hung bells nine;He thought he heard that lady say,‘They gowden bells sall a’ be thine.’3Her mantle was o velvet green,And a’ set round wi jewels fine;Her hawk and hounds were at her side,And her bugle-horn in gowd did shine.4Thomas took aff baith cloak and cap,For to salute this gay lady:‘O save ye, save ye, fair Queen o Heavn,And ay weel met ye save and see!’5‘I’m no the Queen o Heavn, Thomas;I never carried my head sae hee;For I am but a lady gay,Come out to hunt in my follee.6‘Now gin ye kiss my mouth, Thomas,Ye mauna miss my fair bodee;Then ye may een gang hame and tellThat ye’ve lain wi a gay ladee.’7‘O gin I loe a lady fair,Nae ill tales o her wad I tell,And it’s wi thee I fain wad gae,Tho it were een to heavn or hell.’8‘Then harp and carp, Thomas,’ she said,‘Then harp and carp alang wi me;But it will be seven years and a dayTill ye win back to yere ain countrie.’9The lady rade, True Thomas ran,Untill they cam to a water wan;O it was night, and nae delight,And Thomas wade aboon the knee.10It was dark night, and nae starn-light,And on they waded lang days three,And they heard the roaring o a flood,And Thomas a waefou man was he.11Then they rade on, and farther on,Untill they came to a garden green;To pu an apple he put up his hand,For the lack o food he was like to tyne.12‘O haud yere hand, Thomas,’ she cried,‘And let that green flourishing be;For it’s the very fruit o hell,Beguiles baith man and woman o yere countrie.13‘But look afore ye, True Thomas,And I shall show ye ferlies three;Yon is the gate leads to our land,Where thou and I sae soon shall be.14‘And dinna ye see yon road, Thomas,That lies out-owr yon lilly lee?Weel is the man yon gate may gang,For it leads him straight to the heavens hie.15‘But do you see yon road, Thomas,That lies out-owr yon frosty fell?Ill is the man yon gate may gang,For it leads him straight to the pit o hell.16‘Now when ye come to our court, Thomas,See that a weel-learnd man ye be;For they will ask ye, one and all,But ye maun answer nane but me.17‘And when nae answer they obtain,Then will they come and question me,And I will answer them againThat I gat yere aith at the Eildon tree.* * * * * *18‘Ilka seven years, Thomas,We pay our teindings unto hell,And ye’re sae leesome and sae strangThat I fear, Thomas, it will be yeresell.’

1Thomas lay on the Huntlie bank,A spying ferlies wi his eee,And he did spy a lady gay,Come riding down by the lang lee.

Thomas lay on the Huntlie bank,

A spying ferlies wi his eee,

And he did spy a lady gay,

Come riding down by the lang lee.

2Her steed was o the dapple grey,And at its mane there hung bells nine;He thought he heard that lady say,‘They gowden bells sall a’ be thine.’

Her steed was o the dapple grey,

And at its mane there hung bells nine;

He thought he heard that lady say,

‘They gowden bells sall a’ be thine.’

3Her mantle was o velvet green,And a’ set round wi jewels fine;Her hawk and hounds were at her side,And her bugle-horn in gowd did shine.

Her mantle was o velvet green,

And a’ set round wi jewels fine;

Her hawk and hounds were at her side,

And her bugle-horn in gowd did shine.

4Thomas took aff baith cloak and cap,For to salute this gay lady:‘O save ye, save ye, fair Queen o Heavn,And ay weel met ye save and see!’

Thomas took aff baith cloak and cap,

For to salute this gay lady:

‘O save ye, save ye, fair Queen o Heavn,

And ay weel met ye save and see!’

5‘I’m no the Queen o Heavn, Thomas;I never carried my head sae hee;For I am but a lady gay,Come out to hunt in my follee.

‘I’m no the Queen o Heavn, Thomas;

I never carried my head sae hee;

For I am but a lady gay,

Come out to hunt in my follee.

6‘Now gin ye kiss my mouth, Thomas,Ye mauna miss my fair bodee;Then ye may een gang hame and tellThat ye’ve lain wi a gay ladee.’

‘Now gin ye kiss my mouth, Thomas,

Ye mauna miss my fair bodee;

Then ye may een gang hame and tell

That ye’ve lain wi a gay ladee.’

7‘O gin I loe a lady fair,Nae ill tales o her wad I tell,And it’s wi thee I fain wad gae,Tho it were een to heavn or hell.’

‘O gin I loe a lady fair,

Nae ill tales o her wad I tell,

And it’s wi thee I fain wad gae,

Tho it were een to heavn or hell.’

8‘Then harp and carp, Thomas,’ she said,‘Then harp and carp alang wi me;But it will be seven years and a dayTill ye win back to yere ain countrie.’

‘Then harp and carp, Thomas,’ she said,

‘Then harp and carp alang wi me;

But it will be seven years and a day

Till ye win back to yere ain countrie.’

9The lady rade, True Thomas ran,Untill they cam to a water wan;O it was night, and nae delight,And Thomas wade aboon the knee.

The lady rade, True Thomas ran,

Untill they cam to a water wan;

O it was night, and nae delight,

And Thomas wade aboon the knee.

10It was dark night, and nae starn-light,And on they waded lang days three,And they heard the roaring o a flood,And Thomas a waefou man was he.

It was dark night, and nae starn-light,

And on they waded lang days three,

And they heard the roaring o a flood,

And Thomas a waefou man was he.

11Then they rade on, and farther on,Untill they came to a garden green;To pu an apple he put up his hand,For the lack o food he was like to tyne.

Then they rade on, and farther on,

Untill they came to a garden green;

To pu an apple he put up his hand,

For the lack o food he was like to tyne.

12‘O haud yere hand, Thomas,’ she cried,‘And let that green flourishing be;For it’s the very fruit o hell,Beguiles baith man and woman o yere countrie.

‘O haud yere hand, Thomas,’ she cried,

‘And let that green flourishing be;

For it’s the very fruit o hell,

Beguiles baith man and woman o yere countrie.

13‘But look afore ye, True Thomas,And I shall show ye ferlies three;Yon is the gate leads to our land,Where thou and I sae soon shall be.

‘But look afore ye, True Thomas,

And I shall show ye ferlies three;

Yon is the gate leads to our land,

Where thou and I sae soon shall be.

14‘And dinna ye see yon road, Thomas,That lies out-owr yon lilly lee?Weel is the man yon gate may gang,For it leads him straight to the heavens hie.

‘And dinna ye see yon road, Thomas,

That lies out-owr yon lilly lee?

Weel is the man yon gate may gang,

For it leads him straight to the heavens hie.

15‘But do you see yon road, Thomas,That lies out-owr yon frosty fell?Ill is the man yon gate may gang,For it leads him straight to the pit o hell.

‘But do you see yon road, Thomas,

That lies out-owr yon frosty fell?

Ill is the man yon gate may gang,

For it leads him straight to the pit o hell.

16‘Now when ye come to our court, Thomas,See that a weel-learnd man ye be;For they will ask ye, one and all,But ye maun answer nane but me.

‘Now when ye come to our court, Thomas,

See that a weel-learnd man ye be;

For they will ask ye, one and all,

But ye maun answer nane but me.

17‘And when nae answer they obtain,Then will they come and question me,And I will answer them againThat I gat yere aith at the Eildon tree.

‘And when nae answer they obtain,

Then will they come and question me,

And I will answer them again

That I gat yere aith at the Eildon tree.

* * * * * *

18‘Ilka seven years, Thomas,We pay our teindings unto hell,And ye’re sae leesome and sae strangThat I fear, Thomas, it will be yeresell.’

‘Ilka seven years, Thomas,

We pay our teindings unto hell,

And ye’re sae leesome and sae strang

That I fear, Thomas, it will be yeresell.’

14. the Lang-lee.

122. flour is hing.

P. 335.D a, excepting the title and the first stanza, is in a hand not Motherwell’s.

I afirst appeared in the second edition of the Minstrelsy, 1803, II, 245. The “gentleman residing near Langholm,” from whom Scott derived the stanzas of a modern cast, was a Mr Beattie, of Meikledale, and Scott suspected that they might be the work of some poetical clergyman or schoolmaster: letter to W. Laidlaw, January 21, 1803, cited by Carruthers, Abbotsford Notanda, appended to R. Chambers’s Life of Scott, 1871, p. 121 f.

336 b. ‘Den förtrollade prinsessan,’ Lagus, Nyländska Folkvisor, I, 67, No 17.

356 b. Add:D c, 122. aft.

340 a, II, 505 b, III, 505 b. Sleeping under anapple-tree. See also st. 14 of the version immediately following.

So Lancelot goes to sleep about noon under an apple-tree, and is enchanted by Morgan the Fay. Malory’s Morte Darthur, bk. vi, ch. 1, ch. 3, ed. Sommer, I, 183, 186. (G. L. K.)

Communicated to Scott November 11, 1812, by Hugh Irvine, Drum, Aberdeenshire, as procured from the recitation of an old woman in Buchan: Letters, V, No 137, Abbotsford. (Not in Irvine’s hand.)

1Leady Margat stands in her boor-door,Clead in the robs of green;She longed to go to Charters Woods,To pull the flowers her lean.2She had not puld a rose, a rose,O not a rose but one,Till up it starts True Thomas,Said, Leady, let alone.3‘Why pull ye the rose, Marget?Or why break ye the tree?Or why come ye to Charters WoodsWithout the leave of me?’4‘I will pull the rose,’ she said,‘And I will break the tree,For Charters Woods is all my own,And I’l ask no leave of the.’5He’s tean her by the milk-white hand,And by the grass-green sleeve,And laid her lo at the foot of the tree,At her he askt no leave.6It fell once upon a dayThey wer a pleaying at the ba,And every one was reed and whyte,Leady Marget’s culler was all awa.7Out it speaks an elder man,As he stood in the gate,‘Our king’s daughter she gos we bern,And we will get the wait.’8‘If I be we bern,’ she said,‘My own self beer the blame!There is not a man in my father’s courtWill get my bern’s name.’9‘There grows a flower in Charters Woods,It grows on gravel greay,It ould destroy the boney young bernThat ye got in your pley.’10She’s tean her mantle her about,Her green glove on her hand,And she’s awa to Charters Woods,As fest as she could gang.11She had no puld a pile, a pile,O not a pile but one,Up it startid True Thomas,Said, Leady, lat alean.12‘Why pull ye the pile, Marget,That grows on gravel green,For to destroy the boney young bernThat we got us between?’13‘If it were to an earthly man,As [it is] to an elphan knight,I ould walk for my true-love’s sakeAll the long winter’s night.’14‘When I was a boy of eleven years old,And much was made of me,I went out to my father’s garden,Fell asleep at yon aple tree:The queen of Elphan [she] came by,And laid on her hands on me.15‘Elphan it’s a boney place,In it fain wid I dwall;But ey at every seven years endWe pay the teene to hell:I’m so full of flesh and bloodI’m sear feart for mysel.16‘The morn’s Hallow Even’s night,When a’ our courts do ride,Through England and through Irland,Through a’ the world wide:And she that would her true-love borrowAt Miles Corse she may bide.17‘The first an court that ye come till,Ye let them a’ pass by;The next an court that ye come till,Ye hile them reverendly.18‘The next an court that ye come till,An therein rides the queen,Me upon a milk-whyte steed,And a gold star in my croun;Because I am a erle’s soon,I get that for my renoun.19‘Ye take me in your armes,Give me a right sear fa;The queen of Elphan she’l cry out,True Thomas is awa!20‘First I’l be in your armesThe fire burning so bold;Ye hold me fast, let me no passTill I be like iron cold.21‘Next I’l be in your armesThe fire burning so wild;Ye hold me fast, let me no pass,I’m the father of your child.’22The first court that came her till,She let them a’ pass by;The nex an court that came her till,She helt them reverendly.23The nex an court that came her till,And therein read the queen,True Thomas on a milk-whyte steed,A gold star in his croun;Because he was a earl’s soon,He got that for his renoun.24She’s tean him in her arms,Geen him a right sore fa;The queen of Elphan she cried out,True Thomas is awa!25He was into her armsThe fire burning so bold;She held him fast, let him no passTill he was like iron cold.26He was into her armsThe fire burning so wild;She held him fast, let him no pass,He was the father of her child.27The queen of Elphan she cried out,An angry woman was she,‘Let Leady Marget an her true-love be,She’s bought him dearer than me.’

1Leady Margat stands in her boor-door,Clead in the robs of green;She longed to go to Charters Woods,To pull the flowers her lean.

Leady Margat stands in her boor-door,

Clead in the robs of green;

She longed to go to Charters Woods,

To pull the flowers her lean.

2She had not puld a rose, a rose,O not a rose but one,Till up it starts True Thomas,Said, Leady, let alone.

She had not puld a rose, a rose,

O not a rose but one,

Till up it starts True Thomas,

Said, Leady, let alone.

3‘Why pull ye the rose, Marget?Or why break ye the tree?Or why come ye to Charters WoodsWithout the leave of me?’

‘Why pull ye the rose, Marget?

Or why break ye the tree?

Or why come ye to Charters Woods

Without the leave of me?’

4‘I will pull the rose,’ she said,‘And I will break the tree,For Charters Woods is all my own,And I’l ask no leave of the.’

‘I will pull the rose,’ she said,

‘And I will break the tree,

For Charters Woods is all my own,

And I’l ask no leave of the.’

5He’s tean her by the milk-white hand,And by the grass-green sleeve,And laid her lo at the foot of the tree,At her he askt no leave.

He’s tean her by the milk-white hand,

And by the grass-green sleeve,

And laid her lo at the foot of the tree,

At her he askt no leave.

6It fell once upon a dayThey wer a pleaying at the ba,And every one was reed and whyte,Leady Marget’s culler was all awa.

It fell once upon a day

They wer a pleaying at the ba,

And every one was reed and whyte,

Leady Marget’s culler was all awa.

7Out it speaks an elder man,As he stood in the gate,‘Our king’s daughter she gos we bern,And we will get the wait.’

Out it speaks an elder man,

As he stood in the gate,

‘Our king’s daughter she gos we bern,

And we will get the wait.’

8‘If I be we bern,’ she said,‘My own self beer the blame!There is not a man in my father’s courtWill get my bern’s name.’

‘If I be we bern,’ she said,

‘My own self beer the blame!

There is not a man in my father’s court

Will get my bern’s name.’

9‘There grows a flower in Charters Woods,It grows on gravel greay,It ould destroy the boney young bernThat ye got in your pley.’

‘There grows a flower in Charters Woods,

It grows on gravel greay,

It ould destroy the boney young bern

That ye got in your pley.’

10She’s tean her mantle her about,Her green glove on her hand,And she’s awa to Charters Woods,As fest as she could gang.

She’s tean her mantle her about,

Her green glove on her hand,

And she’s awa to Charters Woods,

As fest as she could gang.

11She had no puld a pile, a pile,O not a pile but one,Up it startid True Thomas,Said, Leady, lat alean.

She had no puld a pile, a pile,

O not a pile but one,

Up it startid True Thomas,

Said, Leady, lat alean.

12‘Why pull ye the pile, Marget,That grows on gravel green,For to destroy the boney young bernThat we got us between?’

‘Why pull ye the pile, Marget,

That grows on gravel green,

For to destroy the boney young bern

That we got us between?’

13‘If it were to an earthly man,As [it is] to an elphan knight,I ould walk for my true-love’s sakeAll the long winter’s night.’

‘If it were to an earthly man,

As [it is] to an elphan knight,

I ould walk for my true-love’s sake

All the long winter’s night.’

14‘When I was a boy of eleven years old,And much was made of me,I went out to my father’s garden,Fell asleep at yon aple tree:The queen of Elphan [she] came by,And laid on her hands on me.

‘When I was a boy of eleven years old,

And much was made of me,

I went out to my father’s garden,

Fell asleep at yon aple tree:

The queen of Elphan [she] came by,

And laid on her hands on me.

15‘Elphan it’s a boney place,In it fain wid I dwall;But ey at every seven years endWe pay the teene to hell:I’m so full of flesh and bloodI’m sear feart for mysel.

‘Elphan it’s a boney place,

In it fain wid I dwall;

But ey at every seven years end

We pay the teene to hell:

I’m so full of flesh and blood

I’m sear feart for mysel.

16‘The morn’s Hallow Even’s night,When a’ our courts do ride,Through England and through Irland,Through a’ the world wide:And she that would her true-love borrowAt Miles Corse she may bide.

‘The morn’s Hallow Even’s night,

When a’ our courts do ride,

Through England and through Irland,

Through a’ the world wide:

And she that would her true-love borrow

At Miles Corse she may bide.

17‘The first an court that ye come till,Ye let them a’ pass by;The next an court that ye come till,Ye hile them reverendly.

‘The first an court that ye come till,

Ye let them a’ pass by;

The next an court that ye come till,

Ye hile them reverendly.

18‘The next an court that ye come till,An therein rides the queen,Me upon a milk-whyte steed,And a gold star in my croun;Because I am a erle’s soon,I get that for my renoun.

‘The next an court that ye come till,

An therein rides the queen,

Me upon a milk-whyte steed,

And a gold star in my croun;

Because I am a erle’s soon,

I get that for my renoun.

19‘Ye take me in your armes,Give me a right sear fa;The queen of Elphan she’l cry out,True Thomas is awa!

‘Ye take me in your armes,

Give me a right sear fa;

The queen of Elphan she’l cry out,

True Thomas is awa!

20‘First I’l be in your armesThe fire burning so bold;Ye hold me fast, let me no passTill I be like iron cold.

‘First I’l be in your armes

The fire burning so bold;

Ye hold me fast, let me no pass

Till I be like iron cold.

21‘Next I’l be in your armesThe fire burning so wild;Ye hold me fast, let me no pass,I’m the father of your child.’

‘Next I’l be in your armes

The fire burning so wild;

Ye hold me fast, let me no pass,

I’m the father of your child.’

22The first court that came her till,She let them a’ pass by;The nex an court that came her till,She helt them reverendly.

The first court that came her till,

She let them a’ pass by;

The nex an court that came her till,

She helt them reverendly.

23The nex an court that came her till,And therein read the queen,True Thomas on a milk-whyte steed,A gold star in his croun;Because he was a earl’s soon,He got that for his renoun.

The nex an court that came her till,

And therein read the queen,

True Thomas on a milk-whyte steed,

A gold star in his croun;

Because he was a earl’s soon,

He got that for his renoun.

24She’s tean him in her arms,Geen him a right sore fa;The queen of Elphan she cried out,True Thomas is awa!

She’s tean him in her arms,

Geen him a right sore fa;

The queen of Elphan she cried out,

True Thomas is awa!

25He was into her armsThe fire burning so bold;She held him fast, let him no passTill he was like iron cold.

He was into her arms

The fire burning so bold;

She held him fast, let him no pass

Till he was like iron cold.

26He was into her armsThe fire burning so wild;She held him fast, let him no pass,He was the father of her child.

He was into her arms

The fire burning so wild;

She held him fast, let him no pass,

He was the father of her child.

27The queen of Elphan she cried out,An angry woman was she,‘Let Leady Marget an her true-love be,She’s bought him dearer than me.’

The queen of Elphan she cried out,

An angry woman was she,

‘Let Leady Marget an her true-love be,

She’s bought him dearer than me.’

32. breat.

154. tune (?).

161. Thee.

272. womanis struck out.

The following fragment does not appear to have been among the “several recitals from tradition” used by Scott in making up his ballad. Some lines which it might be supposed to have furnished occur in the edition of 1802, issued before Scott’s acquaintance with Laidlaw began.

“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 27, Abbotsford; in the handwriting of William Laidlaw.

1I charge ye, a’ ye ladies fair,That wear goud in your hair,To come an gang bye Carterhaugh,For young Tam Lien is there.* * * * * *2Then Janet kiltit her green cleadinA wee aboon her knee,An she’s gane away to Carterhaugh,As fast as she can dree.3When Janet cam to Carterhaugh,Tam Lien was at the wall,An there he left his steed stannin,But away he gaed his sell.4She had na pu’d a red, red rose,A rose but only thre,Till up then startit young Tam Lien,Just at young Jenet’s knee.5‘What gars ye pu the rose, Janet,Briek branches frae the tree,An come an gang by Carterhaugh,An speir nae leave of me?’6‘What need I speir leave o thee, Tam?What need I speir leave o thee,When Carterhaugh is a’ mine ain,My father gae it me?’* * * * * *7She’s kiltit up her green cleadinA wee aboon her knee,An she’s away to her ain bower-door,As fast as she can dree.* * * * * *8There war four-an-twentie fair ladiesA’ dancin in a chess,An some war blue an some war green,But Janet was like the gress.9There war four-an-twentie fair ladiesA’ playin at the ba,An some war red an som wer white,But Jennet was like the snaw.

1I charge ye, a’ ye ladies fair,That wear goud in your hair,To come an gang bye Carterhaugh,For young Tam Lien is there.

I charge ye, a’ ye ladies fair,

That wear goud in your hair,

To come an gang bye Carterhaugh,

For young Tam Lien is there.

* * * * * *

2Then Janet kiltit her green cleadinA wee aboon her knee,An she’s gane away to Carterhaugh,As fast as she can dree.

Then Janet kiltit her green cleadin

A wee aboon her knee,

An she’s gane away to Carterhaugh,

As fast as she can dree.

3When Janet cam to Carterhaugh,Tam Lien was at the wall,An there he left his steed stannin,But away he gaed his sell.

When Janet cam to Carterhaugh,

Tam Lien was at the wall,

An there he left his steed stannin,

But away he gaed his sell.

4She had na pu’d a red, red rose,A rose but only thre,Till up then startit young Tam Lien,Just at young Jenet’s knee.

She had na pu’d a red, red rose,

A rose but only thre,

Till up then startit young Tam Lien,

Just at young Jenet’s knee.

5‘What gars ye pu the rose, Janet,Briek branches frae the tree,An come an gang by Carterhaugh,An speir nae leave of me?’

‘What gars ye pu the rose, Janet,

Briek branches frae the tree,

An come an gang by Carterhaugh,

An speir nae leave of me?’

6‘What need I speir leave o thee, Tam?What need I speir leave o thee,When Carterhaugh is a’ mine ain,My father gae it me?’

‘What need I speir leave o thee, Tam?

What need I speir leave o thee,

When Carterhaugh is a’ mine ain,

My father gae it me?’

* * * * * *

7She’s kiltit up her green cleadinA wee aboon her knee,An she’s away to her ain bower-door,As fast as she can dree.

She’s kiltit up her green cleadin

A wee aboon her knee,

An she’s away to her ain bower-door,

As fast as she can dree.

* * * * * *

8There war four-an-twentie fair ladiesA’ dancin in a chess,An some war blue an some war green,But Janet was like the gress.

There war four-an-twentie fair ladies

A’ dancin in a chess,

An some war blue an some war green,

But Janet was like the gress.

9There war four-an-twentie fair ladiesA’ playin at the ba,An some war red an som wer white,But Jennet was like the snaw.

There war four-an-twentie fair ladies

A’ playin at the ba,

An some war red an som wer white,

But Jennet was like the snaw.

13. Tois doubtful;almost bound in.

64. gaewritten overleftstruck out.

82, 92. A’in the MS.

“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 15. Communicated to Scott by Major Henry Hutton, Royal Artillery, 24th December, 1802, as recollected by his father “and the family:” Letters I, No 77. Major Hutton intimates that stanzas 46–49 of the first edition of ‘Tamlane’ (‘Roxburgh was my grandfather,’ ff., corresponding toI28–32) should be struck out, and his verses inserted. But 4–12 of Hutton’s stanzas belong to ‘Thomas Rymer.’

1My father was a noble knight,And was much gi’n to play,And I myself a bonny boy,And followed him away.2He rowd me in his hunting-coatAnd layd me down to sleep,And by the queen of fairies came,And took me up to keep.3She set me on a milk-white steed;’Twas o the elfin kind;His feet were shot wi beaten goud,And fleeter than the wind.4Then we raid on and on’ard mair,Oer mountain, hill and lee,Till we came to a hie, hie wa,Upon a mountain’s bree.5The apples hung like stars of goudOut-our that wa sa fine;I put my hand to pu down ane,For want of food I thought to tine.6‘O had your hand, Tamas!’ she said,‘O let that evil fruit now be!It was that apple ye see thereBeguil’d man and woman in your country.7‘O dinna ye see yon road, Tamas,Down by yon lilie lee?Blessd is the man who yon gate gaes,It leads him to the heavens hie.8‘And dinna ye see yon road, Tamas,Down by yon frosty fell?Curst is the man that yon gate gaes,For it leads to the gates of hell.9‘O dinna ye see yon castle, Tamas,That’s biggit between the twa,And theekit wi the beaten goud?O that’s the fairies’ ha.10‘O when ye come to the ha, Tamas,See that a weel-learnd boy ye be;They’ll ask ye questions ane and a’,But see ye answer nane but me.11‘If ye speak to ain but me, Tamas,A fairie ye maun ever bide;But if ye speak to nane but me, Tamas,Ye may come to be your country’s pride.’12And when he came to Fairie Ha,I wot a weel-learnd boy was he;They askd him questions ane and a’,But he answerd nane but his ladie.13There was four-and-twenty gude knights’-sonsIn fairie land obliged to bide,And of a’ the pages that were thereFair Tamas was his ladie’s pride.14There was four-and-twenty earthly boys,Wha all played at the ba,But Tamas was the bonniest boy,And playd the best amang them a’.15There was four-and-twenty earthly maids,Wha a’ playd at the chess,Their colour rosy-red and white,Their gowns were green as grass.16‘And pleasant are our fairie sports,We flie o’er hill and dale;But at the end of seven yearsThey pay the teen to hell.17‘And now’s the time, at Hallowmess,Late on the morrow’s even,And if ye miss me then, Janet,I’m lost for yearis seven.’

1My father was a noble knight,And was much gi’n to play,And I myself a bonny boy,And followed him away.

My father was a noble knight,

And was much gi’n to play,

And I myself a bonny boy,

And followed him away.

2He rowd me in his hunting-coatAnd layd me down to sleep,And by the queen of fairies came,And took me up to keep.

He rowd me in his hunting-coat

And layd me down to sleep,

And by the queen of fairies came,

And took me up to keep.

3She set me on a milk-white steed;’Twas o the elfin kind;His feet were shot wi beaten goud,And fleeter than the wind.

She set me on a milk-white steed;

’Twas o the elfin kind;

His feet were shot wi beaten goud,

And fleeter than the wind.

4Then we raid on and on’ard mair,Oer mountain, hill and lee,Till we came to a hie, hie wa,Upon a mountain’s bree.

Then we raid on and on’ard mair,

Oer mountain, hill and lee,

Till we came to a hie, hie wa,

Upon a mountain’s bree.

5The apples hung like stars of goudOut-our that wa sa fine;I put my hand to pu down ane,For want of food I thought to tine.

The apples hung like stars of goud

Out-our that wa sa fine;

I put my hand to pu down ane,

For want of food I thought to tine.

6‘O had your hand, Tamas!’ she said,‘O let that evil fruit now be!It was that apple ye see thereBeguil’d man and woman in your country.

‘O had your hand, Tamas!’ she said,

‘O let that evil fruit now be!

It was that apple ye see there

Beguil’d man and woman in your country.

7‘O dinna ye see yon road, Tamas,Down by yon lilie lee?Blessd is the man who yon gate gaes,It leads him to the heavens hie.

‘O dinna ye see yon road, Tamas,

Down by yon lilie lee?

Blessd is the man who yon gate gaes,

It leads him to the heavens hie.

8‘And dinna ye see yon road, Tamas,Down by yon frosty fell?Curst is the man that yon gate gaes,For it leads to the gates of hell.

‘And dinna ye see yon road, Tamas,

Down by yon frosty fell?

Curst is the man that yon gate gaes,

For it leads to the gates of hell.

9‘O dinna ye see yon castle, Tamas,That’s biggit between the twa,And theekit wi the beaten goud?O that’s the fairies’ ha.

‘O dinna ye see yon castle, Tamas,

That’s biggit between the twa,

And theekit wi the beaten goud?

O that’s the fairies’ ha.

10‘O when ye come to the ha, Tamas,See that a weel-learnd boy ye be;They’ll ask ye questions ane and a’,But see ye answer nane but me.

‘O when ye come to the ha, Tamas,

See that a weel-learnd boy ye be;

They’ll ask ye questions ane and a’,

But see ye answer nane but me.

11‘If ye speak to ain but me, Tamas,A fairie ye maun ever bide;But if ye speak to nane but me, Tamas,Ye may come to be your country’s pride.’

‘If ye speak to ain but me, Tamas,

A fairie ye maun ever bide;

But if ye speak to nane but me, Tamas,

Ye may come to be your country’s pride.’

12And when he came to Fairie Ha,I wot a weel-learnd boy was he;They askd him questions ane and a’,But he answerd nane but his ladie.

And when he came to Fairie Ha,

I wot a weel-learnd boy was he;

They askd him questions ane and a’,

But he answerd nane but his ladie.

13There was four-and-twenty gude knights’-sonsIn fairie land obliged to bide,And of a’ the pages that were thereFair Tamas was his ladie’s pride.

There was four-and-twenty gude knights’-sons

In fairie land obliged to bide,

And of a’ the pages that were there

Fair Tamas was his ladie’s pride.

14There was four-and-twenty earthly boys,Wha all played at the ba,But Tamas was the bonniest boy,And playd the best amang them a’.

There was four-and-twenty earthly boys,

Wha all played at the ba,

But Tamas was the bonniest boy,

And playd the best amang them a’.

15There was four-and-twenty earthly maids,Wha a’ playd at the chess,Their colour rosy-red and white,Their gowns were green as grass.

There was four-and-twenty earthly maids,

Wha a’ playd at the chess,

Their colour rosy-red and white,

Their gowns were green as grass.

16‘And pleasant are our fairie sports,We flie o’er hill and dale;But at the end of seven yearsThey pay the teen to hell.

‘And pleasant are our fairie sports,

We flie o’er hill and dale;

But at the end of seven years

They pay the teen to hell.

17‘And now’s the time, at Hallowmess,Late on the morrow’s even,And if ye miss me then, Janet,I’m lost for yearis seven.’

‘And now’s the time, at Hallowmess,

Late on the morrow’s even,

And if ye miss me then, Janet,

I’m lost for yearis seven.’

‘Tamlane,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 96 a; in the handwriting of John Leyden.

‘Gowd rings I can buy, Thomas,Green mantles I can spin,But gin ye take my maidenheidI’ll neer get that again.’Out and spak the queen o fairies,Out o a shot o wheat,‘She that has gotten young TamlaneHas gotten my heart’s delight.’

‘Gowd rings I can buy, Thomas,Green mantles I can spin,But gin ye take my maidenheidI’ll neer get that again.’

‘Gowd rings I can buy, Thomas,

Green mantles I can spin,

But gin ye take my maidenheid

I’ll neer get that again.’

Out and spak the queen o fairies,Out o a shot o wheat,‘She that has gotten young TamlaneHas gotten my heart’s delight.’

Out and spak the queen o fairies,

Out o a shot o wheat,

‘She that has gotten young Tamlane

Has gotten my heart’s delight.’

P. 358, II, 505 b, III, 505 b. More cases in ‘Fairy Births and Human Midwives,’ E. S. Hartland, The Archæological Review, IV, 328 ff.

The elf-woman’s daughter has lain on the floor nineteen days in travail, for she cannot be delivered unless a mortal man lay hands upon her. Hrólfr is lured to the elf-woman’s hall for this purpose. Göngu-Hrólfs Saga, c. 15, Rafn, Fornaldar Sögur, III, 276, Ásmundarson, Fornaldarsögur Norðrlanda, III, 174, 175. (G. L. K.)

P. 361 b, III, 506 a.Danish.X, ‘Agnete i Bjærget,’ Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 3, No 2.

364 a, III, 506 a.Danish.M-O, ‘Agnete i Havet,’ Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 6, No 3,A-C.

365 a, II, 506 a.German.J.‘Die schöne Dorothea,’ Gadde-Gloddow, V. 1. aus Hinterpommern, Zeitschrift für Volkskunde, III, 227.

P. 374 b.Danish.‘Elvedansen,’ Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 10, 372, No 5, A, B, C.

380, II, 506 a, III, 506 a.PP,QQ, ‘Arnaud,’ Quercy, Daymard, p. 167 f., 34 verses, 26 verses.RR, ‘Lou Counte Arnaud,’ Bas-Quercy, Soleville, Chants p. du Bas-Quercy, 1889, p. 13, 10 stanzas.SS,version limousine, La Tradition, V, 184.

384, III, 506 a.Spanish.‘Don Pedro,’ El Folk-Lore Frexnense y Bético-Extremeño, Fregenal, 1883–84; (1) p. 129 (and 180), Zafra, Badajoz, D. Sergio Hernandez; (2) p. 182, Badajoz; (3) p. 183, Montanchez, provincia de Cácares; (4) Constantina, provincia de Sevilla, D. Antonio Machado y Alvarez.

386 a.Bohemian.A aalso==Wenzig,SlawischeV. 1., 1830, p. 47.

P. 392 b, III, 506. Sleep-thorn, sleep-pin. Add: Curtin, Myths and Folk-Lore of Ireland, 1890, pp. 40, 130 ff., 200; Hyde, Beside the Fire, Irish-Gaelic Folk-Stories, p. 43; MacInnes, Folk and Hero Tales, 1890, p. 141 (cf. p. 459).

Sleep-pin, Wlisłocki, M. u. S. der transylvanischen Zigeuner, p. 46. Compare the wand in J. H. Knowles’s Folk-Tales of Kashmir, p. 199. (G. L. K.)

393, III, 506 b.Italian.‘La bella Brunetta,’ Ferrari, C. p. in San Pietro Capofiume; ‘La Bevanda sonnifera,’ Giannini, Canzoni del Contado di Massa Lunense, Archivio, VII, 109, No 11, 279, No 7.

P. 400 a, II, 506 b, III, 506 b.French.W, ‘J’ai fait une maîtresse,’ Daymard, p. 51, Quercy.X, ‘Margarideto,’ Soleville, Chants p. du Bas-Quercy, p. 94.

Italian.Add to Tigri’srispetto: Vigo, Canti p. siciliani, 1870–74, No 1711, Pitrè, Studj di Poesia pop., p. 76; Casetti e Imbriani, C. p. delle Provincie meridionali, p. 187: all cited by d’Ancona, Poesia pop., p. 341.

400 b.Bohemian.Waldau,Böhmische Granaten, II, 75, No 107, dove, gun; fish, hook; hare, dog.

401 b. Tale in Curtin’s Myths and Folk-Lore of Ireland, pp. 152–6.

Cf. also Notes and Queries, 7th Series, IX, 101, 295; Clouston, Popular Tales and Fictions, I, 413 ff. (G. L. K.)

P. 403 f. Roxburghe, III, 883, isB. Roxburghe, III, 494 was printed and sold by John White, Newcastle-upon-Tyne, “circa 1777:” Ebsworth, Roxburghe Ballads, VI, 749. ‘The King and the Bishop,’ Roxburghe, III, 170, is printed in the same volume, p. 751, and ‘The Old Abbot and King Olfrey,’ Pepys, II, 127, at p. 753.

405 b, II, 507. An Armenian, a Slovak, and a Hungarian version, by H. v. Wlisłocki, Zs. f. vergleichende Litteraturgeschichte, u. s. w., N. F., IV, 106 ff., 1891.

404 b, 2d paragraph. Of this kind is the Russian tale, How Fraud made entrance into Russia. Ivan the Terrible demands tribute of neighboring princes. They propose to him three riddles: if he guesses them, they are to pay twelve casks of gold and tribute; if he fails, they take his kingdom. A marvellous old man helps the Tsar out. He has been promised a cask of gold, but the Tsar fills one of the casks two thirds with sand, and offers that. The old man tells him that he, the Tsar, has brought Fraud into the land, never to be eradicated. Ivan begs him to take one of the other casks, but in vain. The old man vanishes; it was God. Rybnikof, II, 232, No 39. (W. W.)

P. 417 a, II, 507 b, III, 507 a. Heads on spikes; only one spike without a head: Curtin, Myths and Folk-Lore of Ireland, 1890, pp. 37, 114 f, 193; Mac Innes, Folk and Hero Tales, Folk-Lore Society, 1890, pp. 79, 453.

47. Proud Lady Margaret.

P. 426.A.Two stanzas (6, 9) and a line were wanting in the copy supplied by Hamilton. March 23, 1803, Hamilton sent to Scott the following verses, “to come in at the first break.” There were still four lines, which should come before these, that Hamilton could not recollect. “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 117. SeeB17,C11, where also there is defect, andD6, 7.

‘O wherein leems the beer?’ she said,‘Or wherein leems the wine?O wherein leems the gold?’ she said,‘Or wherein leems the twine?’‘The beer is put in a drinking-horn,The wine in glasses fine,There’s gold in store between two kings,When they are fighting keen,And the twine is between a lady’s two handsWhen they are washen clean.’

‘O wherein leems the beer?’ she said,‘Or wherein leems the wine?O wherein leems the gold?’ she said,‘Or wherein leems the twine?’

‘O wherein leems the beer?’ she said,

‘Or wherein leems the wine?

O wherein leems the gold?’ she said,

‘Or wherein leems the twine?’

‘The beer is put in a drinking-horn,The wine in glasses fine,There’s gold in store between two kings,When they are fighting keen,And the twine is between a lady’s two handsWhen they are washen clean.’

‘The beer is put in a drinking-horn,

The wine in glasses fine,

There’s gold in store between two kings,

When they are fighting keen,

And the twine is between a lady’s two hands

When they are washen clean.’

P. 436, II, 14, III, 381 b. ‘Tell my mother I am married,’ etc.: so in the beautiful Roumanian ‘Miorita,’ Alecsandri, p. 3.

438.A b.‘The Two Brothers,’ Walks near Edinburgh, by Margaret Warrender, 1890, p. 60. Given to Lady John Scott many years ago by Campbell Riddell, brother of Sir James Riddell of Ardnamurchan.

1There were two brothers in the north,Lord William and Lord John,And they would try a wrestling match,So to the fields they’ve gone, gone, gone,So to the fields they’ve gone.2They wrestled up, they wrestled down,Till Lord John fell on the ground.And a knife into Lord William’s pocketGave him a deadly wound.3‘Oh take me on your back, dear William,’ he said,‘And carry me to the burnie clear,And wash my wound sae deep and dark,Maybe’t will bleed nae mair.’4He took him up upon his back,An carried him to the burnie clear,But aye the mair he washed his woundIt aye did bleed the mair.5‘Oh take me on your back, dear William,’ he said,‘And carry me to the kirkyard fair,And dig a grave sae deep and dark,And lay my body there.’6‘But what shall I say to my father dearWhen he says, Willie, what’s become of John?’‘Oh tell him I am gone to Greenock town,To buy him a puncheon of rum.’7‘And what shall I say to my sister dearWhen she says, Willie, what’s become of John?’‘Oh tell her I’ve gone to London townTo buy her a marriage-gown.’8‘But what shall I say to my grandmother dearWhen she says, Willie, what’s become of John?’‘Oh tell her I’m in the kirkyard dark,And that I’m dead and gone.’

1There were two brothers in the north,Lord William and Lord John,And they would try a wrestling match,So to the fields they’ve gone, gone, gone,So to the fields they’ve gone.

There were two brothers in the north,

Lord William and Lord John,

And they would try a wrestling match,

So to the fields they’ve gone, gone, gone,

So to the fields they’ve gone.

2They wrestled up, they wrestled down,Till Lord John fell on the ground.And a knife into Lord William’s pocketGave him a deadly wound.

They wrestled up, they wrestled down,

Till Lord John fell on the ground.

And a knife into Lord William’s pocket

Gave him a deadly wound.

3‘Oh take me on your back, dear William,’ he said,‘And carry me to the burnie clear,And wash my wound sae deep and dark,Maybe’t will bleed nae mair.’

‘Oh take me on your back, dear William,’ he said,

‘And carry me to the burnie clear,

And wash my wound sae deep and dark,

Maybe’t will bleed nae mair.’

4He took him up upon his back,An carried him to the burnie clear,But aye the mair he washed his woundIt aye did bleed the mair.

He took him up upon his back,

An carried him to the burnie clear,

But aye the mair he washed his wound

It aye did bleed the mair.

5‘Oh take me on your back, dear William,’ he said,‘And carry me to the kirkyard fair,And dig a grave sae deep and dark,And lay my body there.’

‘Oh take me on your back, dear William,’ he said,

‘And carry me to the kirkyard fair,

And dig a grave sae deep and dark,

And lay my body there.’

6‘But what shall I say to my father dearWhen he says, Willie, what’s become of John?’‘Oh tell him I am gone to Greenock town,To buy him a puncheon of rum.’

‘But what shall I say to my father dear

When he says, Willie, what’s become of John?’

‘Oh tell him I am gone to Greenock town,

To buy him a puncheon of rum.’

7‘And what shall I say to my sister dearWhen she says, Willie, what’s become of John?’‘Oh tell her I’ve gone to London townTo buy her a marriage-gown.’

‘And what shall I say to my sister dear

When she says, Willie, what’s become of John?’

‘Oh tell her I’ve gone to London town

To buy her a marriage-gown.’

8‘But what shall I say to my grandmother dearWhen she says, Willie, what’s become of John?’‘Oh tell her I’m in the kirkyard dark,And that I’m dead and gone.’

‘But what shall I say to my grandmother dear

When she says, Willie, what’s become of John?’

‘Oh tell her I’m in the kirkyard dark,

And that I’m dead and gone.’

P. 459 a.Danish.‘Ellen henter sin Fæstemand,’ Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 125, No 34,A,B.

462 a, III, 507 b. ‘Gerineldo,’ again, in Munthe, Folkpoesie från Asturien, No 2, second part, p. 112 b (Upsala Universitets Årsskrift); but imperfect.

462 b, 463 a, II, 508 a. Another version of the French ballad (‘Tout au milieu de Paris’) in Meyrac, Traditions, etc., des Ardennes, p. 238.

463 ff. ‘Earl Bichet,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 83, Abbotsford. Communicated to Scott by Mrs Christiana Greenwood, London, May 27, 1806 (Letters, I, No 189), as heard by her in her youth at Longnewton, near Jedburgh, “where most of the old women could sing it.”

1Earl Bichet’s sworn a mighty aith,And a solemn vow made he,That he wad to the Holy Land,To the Holy Land wad he gae.2When he came to the Holy Land,Amang the Infidels sae black,They hae consulted them amangThe Earl Bichet for to take.3And when they basely him betraydThey put him into fetters strang,And threw him in a dungeon dark,To spend the weary night sae lang.4Then in ilka shoulder they bored a hole,In his right shoulder they bored three,And they gard him draw the coops o wine,Till he was sick and like to dee.5Then they took him out o their carts and wains,And put him in a castle of stone;When the stars shone bright, and the moon gave light,The sad Earl Bichet he saw none.6The king had only ae daughter,And it was orderd sae to beThat, as she walked up and down,By the strong-prison-door cam she.7Then she heard Earl Bichet sadMaking his pityful mane,In doolfu sounds and moving sighsWad melt a heart o stane.8‘When I was in my ain countrie,I drank the wine sae clear;But now I canna get bare bread;O I wis I had neer come here!9‘When I was in my ain countrie,I drank the wine sae red;But now I canna get a bite o bare bread;O I wis that I were dead!’* * * * * *10‘Gae bring to me the good leaven [bread],To eat when I do need;Gae bring to me the good red wine,To drink when I do dread.’11‘Gae ask my father for his leaveTo bring them unto me,And for the keys o the prison-door,To set Earl Bichet free.’* * * * * *12Then she went into her ain chamberAnd prayd most heartilie,And when that she rose up againThe keys fell at her knee.* * * * * *13Then they hae made a solemn vowBetween themselves alone,That he was to marry no other woman,And she no other man.14And Earl Bichet’s to sail to fair Scotland,Far oer the roaring faem,And till seven years were past and goneThis vow was to remain.15Then she built him a stately ship,And set it on the sea,Wi four-and-twenty mariners,To bear him companie.16‘My blessing gae wi ye, Earl Bichet,My blessing gae wi thee;My blessing be wi a’ the marinersThat are to sail wi thee.’17Then they saild east, and they saild wast,Till they saild to Earl Bichet’s yett,When nane was sae ready as his mother dearTo welcome her ain son back.18‘Ye’re welcome, welcome, Earl Bichet,Ye’re dearly welcome hame to me!And ye’re as welcome to Lady Jean,For she has lang looked for thee.’19‘What haste, what haste, O mother dear,To wale a wife for me?For what will I do wi the bonny brideThat I hae left ayont the sea?’20When seven years were past and gone,Seven years but and a day,The Saracen lady took a crying in her sleep,And she has cried sair till day.21‘O daughter, is it for a man o might?Or is it for a man o mine?’‘It’s neither for a man o might,Nor is it for a man o thine.22‘Bat if ye’ll build me a ship, father,And set it on the sea,I will away to some other land,To seek a true-love free.’23Then he built her a gallant ship,And set it on the sea,Wi a hunder and fifty mariners,To bear her companie.24At every corner o the shipA siller bell did hing,And at ilka jawing o the faemThe siller bells did ring.25Then they saild east, and they saild wast,Till they cam to Earl Bichet’s yett;Nane was sae ready as the porterTo open and let her in thereat.26‘O is this Earl Bichet’s castle-yett?Or is that noble knight within?For I am weary, sad and wet,And far I’ve come ayont the faem.’27‘He’s up the stair at supper set,And mony a noble knight wi him;He’s up the stair wi his bonny bride,And mony a lady gay wi them.’28She’s put her hand into her purseAnd taen out fifty merks and three:‘If this be the Earl Bichet’s castle,Tell him to speak three words wi me.29‘Tell him to send me a bit o his breadBut an a bottle o his wine,And no forget the lady’s loveThat freed him out o prison strong.’30The porter he gaed up the stair,And mony bow and binge gae he;‘What means, what means,’ cried Earl Bichet,‘O what means a’ this courtesie?’31‘O I hae been porter at yere yettThese four-and-twenty years and three;But the fairest lady now stands thereatThat ever my two eyes did see.32‘She has a ring on her foremost finger,And on her middle-finger three;She has as much gowd about her waistAs wad buy earldoms o land for thee.33‘She wants to speak three words wi thee,And a little o yere bread and wine,And not to forget the lady’s loveThat freed ye out o prison strong.’34‘I’ll lay my life,’ cried Earl Bichet,‘It’s my true love come oer the sea!’Then up and spake the bride’s mother,‘It’s a bonny time to speak wi thee!’35‘O your doughter came here on a horse’s back,But I’ll set her hame in a chariot free;For, except a kiss o her bonny mouth,Of her fair body I am free.’36There war thirty cups on the table set,He gard them a’ in flinders flee;There war thirty steps into the stair,And he has louped them a’ but three.37Then he took her saftly in his arms,And kissed her right tenderlie:‘Ye’re welcome here, my ain true love,Sae dearly welcome ye’re to me!’* * * * * *

1Earl Bichet’s sworn a mighty aith,And a solemn vow made he,That he wad to the Holy Land,To the Holy Land wad he gae.

Earl Bichet’s sworn a mighty aith,

And a solemn vow made he,

That he wad to the Holy Land,

To the Holy Land wad he gae.

2When he came to the Holy Land,Amang the Infidels sae black,They hae consulted them amangThe Earl Bichet for to take.

When he came to the Holy Land,

Amang the Infidels sae black,

They hae consulted them amang

The Earl Bichet for to take.

3And when they basely him betraydThey put him into fetters strang,And threw him in a dungeon dark,To spend the weary night sae lang.

And when they basely him betrayd

They put him into fetters strang,

And threw him in a dungeon dark,

To spend the weary night sae lang.

4Then in ilka shoulder they bored a hole,In his right shoulder they bored three,And they gard him draw the coops o wine,Till he was sick and like to dee.

Then in ilka shoulder they bored a hole,

In his right shoulder they bored three,

And they gard him draw the coops o wine,

Till he was sick and like to dee.

5Then they took him out o their carts and wains,And put him in a castle of stone;When the stars shone bright, and the moon gave light,The sad Earl Bichet he saw none.

Then they took him out o their carts and wains,

And put him in a castle of stone;

When the stars shone bright, and the moon gave light,

The sad Earl Bichet he saw none.

6The king had only ae daughter,And it was orderd sae to beThat, as she walked up and down,By the strong-prison-door cam she.

The king had only ae daughter,

And it was orderd sae to be

That, as she walked up and down,

By the strong-prison-door cam she.

7Then she heard Earl Bichet sadMaking his pityful mane,In doolfu sounds and moving sighsWad melt a heart o stane.

Then she heard Earl Bichet sad

Making his pityful mane,

In doolfu sounds and moving sighs

Wad melt a heart o stane.

8‘When I was in my ain countrie,I drank the wine sae clear;But now I canna get bare bread;O I wis I had neer come here!

‘When I was in my ain countrie,

I drank the wine sae clear;

But now I canna get bare bread;

O I wis I had neer come here!

9‘When I was in my ain countrie,I drank the wine sae red;But now I canna get a bite o bare bread;O I wis that I were dead!’

‘When I was in my ain countrie,

I drank the wine sae red;

But now I canna get a bite o bare bread;

O I wis that I were dead!’

* * * * * *

10‘Gae bring to me the good leaven [bread],To eat when I do need;Gae bring to me the good red wine,To drink when I do dread.’

‘Gae bring to me the good leaven [bread],

To eat when I do need;

Gae bring to me the good red wine,

To drink when I do dread.’

11‘Gae ask my father for his leaveTo bring them unto me,And for the keys o the prison-door,To set Earl Bichet free.’

‘Gae ask my father for his leave

To bring them unto me,

And for the keys o the prison-door,

To set Earl Bichet free.’

* * * * * *

12Then she went into her ain chamberAnd prayd most heartilie,And when that she rose up againThe keys fell at her knee.

Then she went into her ain chamber

And prayd most heartilie,

And when that she rose up again

The keys fell at her knee.

* * * * * *

13Then they hae made a solemn vowBetween themselves alone,That he was to marry no other woman,And she no other man.

Then they hae made a solemn vow

Between themselves alone,

That he was to marry no other woman,

And she no other man.

14And Earl Bichet’s to sail to fair Scotland,Far oer the roaring faem,And till seven years were past and goneThis vow was to remain.

And Earl Bichet’s to sail to fair Scotland,

Far oer the roaring faem,

And till seven years were past and gone

This vow was to remain.

15Then she built him a stately ship,And set it on the sea,Wi four-and-twenty mariners,To bear him companie.

Then she built him a stately ship,

And set it on the sea,

Wi four-and-twenty mariners,

To bear him companie.

16‘My blessing gae wi ye, Earl Bichet,My blessing gae wi thee;My blessing be wi a’ the marinersThat are to sail wi thee.’

‘My blessing gae wi ye, Earl Bichet,

My blessing gae wi thee;

My blessing be wi a’ the mariners

That are to sail wi thee.’

17Then they saild east, and they saild wast,Till they saild to Earl Bichet’s yett,When nane was sae ready as his mother dearTo welcome her ain son back.

Then they saild east, and they saild wast,

Till they saild to Earl Bichet’s yett,

When nane was sae ready as his mother dear

To welcome her ain son back.

18‘Ye’re welcome, welcome, Earl Bichet,Ye’re dearly welcome hame to me!And ye’re as welcome to Lady Jean,For she has lang looked for thee.’

‘Ye’re welcome, welcome, Earl Bichet,

Ye’re dearly welcome hame to me!

And ye’re as welcome to Lady Jean,

For she has lang looked for thee.’

19‘What haste, what haste, O mother dear,To wale a wife for me?For what will I do wi the bonny brideThat I hae left ayont the sea?’

‘What haste, what haste, O mother dear,

To wale a wife for me?

For what will I do wi the bonny bride

That I hae left ayont the sea?’

20When seven years were past and gone,Seven years but and a day,The Saracen lady took a crying in her sleep,And she has cried sair till day.

When seven years were past and gone,

Seven years but and a day,

The Saracen lady took a crying in her sleep,

And she has cried sair till day.

21‘O daughter, is it for a man o might?Or is it for a man o mine?’‘It’s neither for a man o might,Nor is it for a man o thine.

‘O daughter, is it for a man o might?

Or is it for a man o mine?’

‘It’s neither for a man o might,

Nor is it for a man o thine.

22‘Bat if ye’ll build me a ship, father,And set it on the sea,I will away to some other land,To seek a true-love free.’

‘Bat if ye’ll build me a ship, father,

And set it on the sea,

I will away to some other land,

To seek a true-love free.’

23Then he built her a gallant ship,And set it on the sea,Wi a hunder and fifty mariners,To bear her companie.

Then he built her a gallant ship,

And set it on the sea,

Wi a hunder and fifty mariners,

To bear her companie.

24At every corner o the shipA siller bell did hing,And at ilka jawing o the faemThe siller bells did ring.

At every corner o the ship

A siller bell did hing,

And at ilka jawing o the faem

The siller bells did ring.

25Then they saild east, and they saild wast,Till they cam to Earl Bichet’s yett;Nane was sae ready as the porterTo open and let her in thereat.

Then they saild east, and they saild wast,

Till they cam to Earl Bichet’s yett;

Nane was sae ready as the porter

To open and let her in thereat.

26‘O is this Earl Bichet’s castle-yett?Or is that noble knight within?For I am weary, sad and wet,And far I’ve come ayont the faem.’

‘O is this Earl Bichet’s castle-yett?

Or is that noble knight within?

For I am weary, sad and wet,

And far I’ve come ayont the faem.’

27‘He’s up the stair at supper set,And mony a noble knight wi him;He’s up the stair wi his bonny bride,And mony a lady gay wi them.’

‘He’s up the stair at supper set,

And mony a noble knight wi him;

He’s up the stair wi his bonny bride,

And mony a lady gay wi them.’

28She’s put her hand into her purseAnd taen out fifty merks and three:‘If this be the Earl Bichet’s castle,Tell him to speak three words wi me.

She’s put her hand into her purse

And taen out fifty merks and three:

‘If this be the Earl Bichet’s castle,

Tell him to speak three words wi me.

29‘Tell him to send me a bit o his breadBut an a bottle o his wine,And no forget the lady’s loveThat freed him out o prison strong.’

‘Tell him to send me a bit o his bread

But an a bottle o his wine,

And no forget the lady’s love

That freed him out o prison strong.’

30The porter he gaed up the stair,And mony bow and binge gae he;‘What means, what means,’ cried Earl Bichet,‘O what means a’ this courtesie?’

The porter he gaed up the stair,

And mony bow and binge gae he;

‘What means, what means,’ cried Earl Bichet,

‘O what means a’ this courtesie?’

31‘O I hae been porter at yere yettThese four-and-twenty years and three;But the fairest lady now stands thereatThat ever my two eyes did see.

‘O I hae been porter at yere yett

These four-and-twenty years and three;

But the fairest lady now stands thereat

That ever my two eyes did see.

32‘She has a ring on her foremost finger,And on her middle-finger three;She has as much gowd about her waistAs wad buy earldoms o land for thee.

‘She has a ring on her foremost finger,

And on her middle-finger three;

She has as much gowd about her waist

As wad buy earldoms o land for thee.

33‘She wants to speak three words wi thee,And a little o yere bread and wine,And not to forget the lady’s loveThat freed ye out o prison strong.’

‘She wants to speak three words wi thee,

And a little o yere bread and wine,

And not to forget the lady’s love

That freed ye out o prison strong.’

34‘I’ll lay my life,’ cried Earl Bichet,‘It’s my true love come oer the sea!’Then up and spake the bride’s mother,‘It’s a bonny time to speak wi thee!’

‘I’ll lay my life,’ cried Earl Bichet,

‘It’s my true love come oer the sea!’

Then up and spake the bride’s mother,

‘It’s a bonny time to speak wi thee!’

35‘O your doughter came here on a horse’s back,But I’ll set her hame in a chariot free;For, except a kiss o her bonny mouth,Of her fair body I am free.’

‘O your doughter came here on a horse’s back,

But I’ll set her hame in a chariot free;

For, except a kiss o her bonny mouth,

Of her fair body I am free.’

36There war thirty cups on the table set,He gard them a’ in flinders flee;There war thirty steps into the stair,And he has louped them a’ but three.

There war thirty cups on the table set,

He gard them a’ in flinders flee;

There war thirty steps into the stair,

And he has louped them a’ but three.

37Then he took her saftly in his arms,And kissed her right tenderlie:‘Ye’re welcome here, my ain true love,Sae dearly welcome ye’re to me!’

Then he took her saftly in his arms,

And kissed her right tenderlie:

‘Ye’re welcome here, my ain true love,

Sae dearly welcome ye’re to me!’

* * * * * *

73. doolfu: lstruck out.

At the end: “Some verses are wanting at the conclusion.”

The following stanza, entered by Scott in the quarto volume “Scottish Songs,” 1795, fol. 29 back, Abbotsford library, N. 3, is much too good to be lost:

Back to Index Next