VOL. II.

Young Bechin was in Scotland born,He longed far countries for to see,And he bound himself to a savage Moor,Who used him but indifferently.

Young Bechin was in Scotland born,

He longed far countries for to see,

And he bound himself to a savage Moor,

Who used him but indifferently.

P. 7, 509 b, III, 507 b. The Sower. Add: Legeay, Noëls Anciens, Première Série, 1875, ‘Saint Joseph avec Marie,’ No 34, p. 68; Daymard, Vieux Chants p. rec. en Quercy, ‘La Fuite en Egypte,’ p. 333; Soleville, Ch. p. du Bas-Quercy, ‘Lou Bouiaje,’ p. 126; La Tradition, IV, 139.

P. 10, III, 507 b. ‘Le mauvais riche,’ Daymard, Vieux Chants p. rec. en Quercy, p. 282.

P. 13.Swedish.‘Herr Päders Sjöresa,’ Lagus, Nyländska Folkvisor, I, 56, No 14,a,b.

Danish.‘Jon Rimaardsens Sejlads,’ Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 296, No 73,A-D.

13 ff., II, 510, also No 20, I, 244. While Prince Lundarasena is on a voyage, a great hurricane arises. An offering of jewels is made to the sea, but does not quiet it. Lundarasena says: “It is through my demerits in former births that this day of doom has suddenly come upon you.” He flings himself into the water; the wind falls immediately and the sea becomes calm. (He is not drowned.) Kathá Sarit Ságara, Tawney’s translation, II, 375.

A ship stopped. Cf. the story told by Henry of Huntingdon, viii, 22, of one Reiner, a follower of Geoffrey Mandeville (Gaufridus de Magna Villa).

“Princeps autem peditum suorum, Reinerus nomine, cujus officium fuerat ecclesias frangere vel incendere, dum mare cum uxore sua transiret, ut multi perhibuerunt, navis immobilis facta est. Quod monstrum nautis stupentibus, sorte data rei causam inquirentibus, sors cecidit super Reinerum. Quod cum ille nimirum totis contradiceret nisibus, secundo et tertio sors jacta in eum devenit. Positus igitur in scapha est, et uxor ejus, et pecunia scelestissime adquisita, et statim navis cursu velocissimo ut prius fecerat pelagus sulcat, scapha vero cum nequissimis subita voragine circumducta in æternum absorpta est.” This was in the year 1144. Henrici Archidiaconi Huntendunensis Historia Anglorum, ed. Arnold, Rolls Series, 1879, p. 278. (G. L. K.)

“Audivi a fratre Galtero de Leus quod, cum quedam mulier, mare transiens, pulcritudine sua omnes qui erant in navi ita attraxisset ut omnes qui erant ibi fere cum ea peccassent vel per actum aut consensum, et non evitaret patrem aut filium, sed indifferenter omnibus, licet occulte, se exponeret, facta in mari tempestate et navi periclitante, cepit clamare coram omnibus omnia peccata sua et confiteri ea, credens quod alii propter ea deberent periclitari. Tunc, aliis confitentibus, cessavit mare a furore suo. Facta tranquillitate, nullus potuit scire que esset illa mulier aut cognoscere eam.” Anecdotes historiques, Légendes et Apologues tirés du Recueil inédit d’Étienne de Bourbon, ed. Lecoy de la Marche, 1877, p. 160. (G. L. K.)

A merchant is making a voyage to Mount Athos with a cargo of wax and incense. St Nicolas freezes the ship in, and will not thaw it out until the master makes a vow to present the cargo to the monastery there.Bulgarian, Miladinof, p. 56, No 50. A ship in which Milica is captive is stopped by her tears and plaints until she and her brother are released.Servian, Karadžić, I, 556, No 729. (W. W.)

16. ‘Captain Glen.’ Christie’s Traditional Ballad Airs, I, 241, from recitation. As Christie remarks, some verses of the ballad are introduced into Scott’s Pirate, ch. 36.

P. 33 f. The child champion inA. (Compare also the notes to No 90, II, 513 b, III, 515 b.) Children who distinguish themselves by valorous exploits, and even get the better of heroes, are especially common in Bulgarian epos. A child of three days kills a monster that stops the way of a marriage-train, and then requires the guests to come to its baptism: Miladinof, p. 79, No 59. Marko Kraljević is vanquished by one of these, seven years old: Miladinof, p. 173, No 121; Kačanofskij, pp. 341–55, Nos 151–55. In Kačanofskij, p. 355, No 156, the child is but seven months old. More of this extravagance in Miladinof, p. 266, No 173; Sbornik of the Ministry of Instruction, I, 59, No 4. (W. W.)

35, note. In The Order of Combats for Life in Scotland, Spalding Club Misc., II, 387 (of uncertain date), the second oath to be proposed to the parties is, that they have not brought into the lists other armor or weapons than was allowed, neither any engine, charm, herb, or enchantment, etc.

P. 50 b, the last paragraph. It might have been remarked that ‘King Estmere’ resembles in a general way a series of German poems of adventure, in which a young king (or his guardians) is nice about a wife, and the princess proposed to him is won only with great difficulty: König Rother (ed. Rückert, v. 13 ff.); Ortnit (Ortnit und die Wolfdietriche, ed. Amelung und Jänicke, I, 4, st. 8 ff.); Hugdietrich (the same, p. 168, st. 9 ff.); Oswald (Sant Oswaldes Leben, ed. Ettmüller, p. 6, v. 140 ff); Orendel (ed. Berger, p. 8, v. 192 ff.); Dietwart (Dietrichs Flucht, ed. Martin, Heldenbuch, IIrTeil, p. 68, v. 785 ff.). To which may be added Fore, in Salman und Marolf (ed. Vogt, p. 5, str. 24 ff.), and Tsar Vasily, in Russianbyliny(see Vogt, p. XLII).

P. 60, III, 508 b. Cucúlin pulls liver and lights out of the throats of two lions: Curtin, Myths and Folk-Lore of Ireland, p. 317.

P. 65 a.Swedish.‘Skön Anna,’ ‘Skön Anna och Herr Peder,’ Lagus, Nyländska Folkvisor, I, 13, No 4,a, b. The bride throws down one half of a gold ring, Fair Annie the other; the parts run together:a23,b16.

67. The romance of Galerent follows the story of Marie’slai, and is thought to be founded on it: Le Roman de Galerent, Comte de Bretagne, par le trouvère Renaut, A. Boucherie, 1888. (G. L. K.)

68, note. The story is in Coryat’s Crudities, 1611, p. 646 f.; III, 81 f., of the ed. of 1776. (G. L. K.)

P. 84 b, III, 508 b. Add: Skattegraveren, 1888, II, 135, Nos 408–11.

64. Fair Janet.

P. 101 b.Danish.‘Kong Valdemar og hans Søster,’ Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 75, 378, No 23.

102 b.Bretonballad. After Luzel, II, 6–15, add 558, the page of the third ballad.

Quellien, Chansons et Danses des Bretons, p. 73, is a fourth version. This ballad, says Quellien, is widely spread, and has various titles, one of which is ‘Le Comte de Poitou.’

103 ff. “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” Abbotsford, No 25. In the handwriting of William Laidlaw; “from Jean Scott.”

1Young Janet sits in her garden,Makin a heavie maen,Whan by cam her father dear,Walkin himself alane.2‘It’s telld me in my bower, Janet,It’s telld me in my bed,That ye’re in love wi Sweet Willie;But a French lord ye maun wed.’3‘In it be telld ye in yer bower, father,In it be telld ye in your bed,That me an Willie bears a love,Yet a French lord I maun wed,But here I mak a leel, leel vowHe’s neer come in my bed.4‘An for to please my father dearA French lord I will wed;But I hae sworn a solemn othHe’s neer come in my bed.’5YoungJanet’s away to her bower-door,As fast as she can hie,An Willie he has followd her,He’s followd speedilie.6An whan he cam to her bowr-doorHe tirlt at the pin:‘O open, open, Janet love,Open an let me in.’7‘It was never my mother’s custm, Willie,It never sal be mine,For a man to come the bower withinWhen a woman’s travelin.8‘Gae yer ways to my sisters’ bower,Crie, Meg, Marion an Jean,Ye maun come to yer sister Janet,For fear that she be gane.’9Sae he gaed to her sisters’ bower,Cry’d, Meg, Marion an Jean,Ye maun come to yer sister Janet,For fear that she be gane.10Some drew to their silk stokins,An some drew to their shoon,An some drew to their silk cleadin,For fear she had been gane.11When they cam to her bower-doorThey tirlt at the pin;For as sick a woman as she was,She raise an loot them in.12They had na the babie weel buskit,Nor her laid in her bed,Untill her cruel father cam,Cried, Fye, gar busk the bride!13‘There a sair pain in my back, father,There a sair pain in my head,An sair, sair is my sidies to;This day I downa ride.’14‘But I hae sorn a solemn oath,Afore a companie,That ye sal ride this day, Janet,This day an ye soud die.15‘Whae’ll horse ye to the kirk, Janet?An whae will horse ye best?’‘Whae but Willie, my true-love?He kens my mister best.’16‘Whae’ll horse ye to the kirk, Janet?An whae will horse ye there?’‘Whae but Willie, my true-love?He neer will doo ‘d nae maer.17‘Ye may saddle a steed, Willie,An see that ye saddle ‘t soft;Ye may saddle a steed, Willie,For ye winna saddle ‘t oft.18‘Ye may saddle a steed, Willie,An see that ye saddle ‘t side;Ye may saddle a steed, Willie;But I thought to have been yer bride.’19When they war a’ on horse-back set,On horse-back set sae hie,Then up spak the bold bridegroom,An he spak boustresslie.20Up then spak the bold bridegroom,An he spak loud an thrawn;‘I think the bride she be wi bairn,She looks sae pale an wan.’21Then she took out her bible-book,Swoor by her fingers fiveThat she was neither wi lad nor lassTo no man was alive.22Then she took out her bible-book,Swoor by her fingers tenAn ever she had born a bairn in her daysShe had born ‘d sin yestreen:Then a’ the ladies round aboutSaid, That’s a loud leesin.23Atween the kitchin an the kirkIt was a weel-met mile;It was a stra’d i the red roses,But than the camomile.24When the war a’ at dener set,Drinkin at the wine,Janet could neither eat nor drinkBut the water that ran so fine.25Up spak the bride’s father,Said, Bride, will ye dance wi me?‘Away, away, my cruel father!There nae dancin wi me.’26Up then spak the bride’s mother,Said, Bride, will ye dance wi me?‘Away, away, my mother dear!There nae dancin wi me.’27Up then spak the bride’s sisters, etc.28Up then spak the bride’s brother, etc.29Then up spak the bold bridegroom, [etc.]30Up then spak the Sweet Willie,An he spak wi a vance;‘An ye’ll draw of my boots, Janet,I’ll gie a’ yer lassies a dance.’31‘I seen ‘t other ways, Willie,An sae has mae than me,When ye wad hae danced wi my fair body,An leten a’ my maidens be.’32He took her by the milk-white hand,An led her wi mickle care,But she drapit down just at his feet,And word spak little mair.33‘Ye may gae hire a nurse, Willie,An take yer young son hame;Ye may gae hire a nurse, Willie,For bairn’s nurse I’ll be nane.’34She’s pu’d out the keys o her coffer,Hung leugh down by her gair;She said, Gie thae to my young son,Thrae me he’ll neer get mair.’35Up then spak the bold bridegroom,An he spak bousterouslie;‘I’ve gien you the skaeth, Willie,But ye’ve gien me the scorn;Sae there’s no a bell i St Mary’s kirkSall ring for her the morn.’36‘Ye’ve gien me the skaeth, bridegroom,But I’ll gee you the scorn;For there’s no a bell i St Marie’s kirkBut sal ring for her the morn.37‘Gar deal, gar deal at my love’s burialThe wheat-bread an the wine,For or the morn at ten o clockYe’ll deal ‘d as fast at mine.’38Then he’s drawn out a nut-brown sword,Hang leugh down by his gair,He’s thrust it in just at his heart,An word spak never mair.39The taen was buried i St Mary’s kirk,The tother i St Mary’s queer,An throw the taen there sprang a birk,Throw the tother a bonnie brier.40Thae twae met, an thae twae plaet,An ay they knitit near,An ilka ane that cam therebySaid, There lies twa lovers dear.41Till by there came an ill French lord,An ill death may he die!For he pu’d up the bonnie brier,. . . . . . . .

1Young Janet sits in her garden,Makin a heavie maen,Whan by cam her father dear,Walkin himself alane.

Young Janet sits in her garden,

Makin a heavie maen,

Whan by cam her father dear,

Walkin himself alane.

2‘It’s telld me in my bower, Janet,It’s telld me in my bed,That ye’re in love wi Sweet Willie;But a French lord ye maun wed.’

‘It’s telld me in my bower, Janet,

It’s telld me in my bed,

That ye’re in love wi Sweet Willie;

But a French lord ye maun wed.’

3‘In it be telld ye in yer bower, father,In it be telld ye in your bed,That me an Willie bears a love,Yet a French lord I maun wed,But here I mak a leel, leel vowHe’s neer come in my bed.

‘In it be telld ye in yer bower, father,

In it be telld ye in your bed,

That me an Willie bears a love,

Yet a French lord I maun wed,

But here I mak a leel, leel vow

He’s neer come in my bed.

4‘An for to please my father dearA French lord I will wed;But I hae sworn a solemn othHe’s neer come in my bed.’

‘An for to please my father dear

A French lord I will wed;

But I hae sworn a solemn oth

He’s neer come in my bed.’

5YoungJanet’s away to her bower-door,As fast as she can hie,An Willie he has followd her,He’s followd speedilie.

YoungJanet’s away to her bower-door,

As fast as she can hie,

An Willie he has followd her,

He’s followd speedilie.

6An whan he cam to her bowr-doorHe tirlt at the pin:‘O open, open, Janet love,Open an let me in.’

An whan he cam to her bowr-door

He tirlt at the pin:

‘O open, open, Janet love,

Open an let me in.’

7‘It was never my mother’s custm, Willie,It never sal be mine,For a man to come the bower withinWhen a woman’s travelin.

‘It was never my mother’s custm, Willie,

It never sal be mine,

For a man to come the bower within

When a woman’s travelin.

8‘Gae yer ways to my sisters’ bower,Crie, Meg, Marion an Jean,Ye maun come to yer sister Janet,For fear that she be gane.’

‘Gae yer ways to my sisters’ bower,

Crie, Meg, Marion an Jean,

Ye maun come to yer sister Janet,

For fear that she be gane.’

9Sae he gaed to her sisters’ bower,Cry’d, Meg, Marion an Jean,Ye maun come to yer sister Janet,For fear that she be gane.

Sae he gaed to her sisters’ bower,

Cry’d, Meg, Marion an Jean,

Ye maun come to yer sister Janet,

For fear that she be gane.

10Some drew to their silk stokins,An some drew to their shoon,An some drew to their silk cleadin,For fear she had been gane.

Some drew to their silk stokins,

An some drew to their shoon,

An some drew to their silk cleadin,

For fear she had been gane.

11When they cam to her bower-doorThey tirlt at the pin;For as sick a woman as she was,She raise an loot them in.

When they cam to her bower-door

They tirlt at the pin;

For as sick a woman as she was,

She raise an loot them in.

12They had na the babie weel buskit,Nor her laid in her bed,Untill her cruel father cam,Cried, Fye, gar busk the bride!

They had na the babie weel buskit,

Nor her laid in her bed,

Untill her cruel father cam,

Cried, Fye, gar busk the bride!

13‘There a sair pain in my back, father,There a sair pain in my head,An sair, sair is my sidies to;This day I downa ride.’

‘There a sair pain in my back, father,

There a sair pain in my head,

An sair, sair is my sidies to;

This day I downa ride.’

14‘But I hae sorn a solemn oath,Afore a companie,That ye sal ride this day, Janet,This day an ye soud die.

‘But I hae sorn a solemn oath,

Afore a companie,

That ye sal ride this day, Janet,

This day an ye soud die.

15‘Whae’ll horse ye to the kirk, Janet?An whae will horse ye best?’‘Whae but Willie, my true-love?He kens my mister best.’

‘Whae’ll horse ye to the kirk, Janet?

An whae will horse ye best?’

‘Whae but Willie, my true-love?

He kens my mister best.’

16‘Whae’ll horse ye to the kirk, Janet?An whae will horse ye there?’‘Whae but Willie, my true-love?He neer will doo ‘d nae maer.

‘Whae’ll horse ye to the kirk, Janet?

An whae will horse ye there?’

‘Whae but Willie, my true-love?

He neer will doo ‘d nae maer.

17‘Ye may saddle a steed, Willie,An see that ye saddle ‘t soft;Ye may saddle a steed, Willie,For ye winna saddle ‘t oft.

‘Ye may saddle a steed, Willie,

An see that ye saddle ‘t soft;

Ye may saddle a steed, Willie,

For ye winna saddle ‘t oft.

18‘Ye may saddle a steed, Willie,An see that ye saddle ‘t side;Ye may saddle a steed, Willie;But I thought to have been yer bride.’

‘Ye may saddle a steed, Willie,

An see that ye saddle ‘t side;

Ye may saddle a steed, Willie;

But I thought to have been yer bride.’

19When they war a’ on horse-back set,On horse-back set sae hie,Then up spak the bold bridegroom,An he spak boustresslie.

When they war a’ on horse-back set,

On horse-back set sae hie,

Then up spak the bold bridegroom,

An he spak boustresslie.

20Up then spak the bold bridegroom,An he spak loud an thrawn;‘I think the bride she be wi bairn,She looks sae pale an wan.’

Up then spak the bold bridegroom,

An he spak loud an thrawn;

‘I think the bride she be wi bairn,

She looks sae pale an wan.’

21Then she took out her bible-book,Swoor by her fingers fiveThat she was neither wi lad nor lassTo no man was alive.

Then she took out her bible-book,

Swoor by her fingers five

That she was neither wi lad nor lass

To no man was alive.

22Then she took out her bible-book,Swoor by her fingers tenAn ever she had born a bairn in her daysShe had born ‘d sin yestreen:Then a’ the ladies round aboutSaid, That’s a loud leesin.

Then she took out her bible-book,

Swoor by her fingers ten

An ever she had born a bairn in her days

She had born ‘d sin yestreen:

Then a’ the ladies round about

Said, That’s a loud leesin.

23Atween the kitchin an the kirkIt was a weel-met mile;It was a stra’d i the red roses,But than the camomile.

Atween the kitchin an the kirk

It was a weel-met mile;

It was a stra’d i the red roses,

But than the camomile.

24When the war a’ at dener set,Drinkin at the wine,Janet could neither eat nor drinkBut the water that ran so fine.

When the war a’ at dener set,

Drinkin at the wine,

Janet could neither eat nor drink

But the water that ran so fine.

25Up spak the bride’s father,Said, Bride, will ye dance wi me?‘Away, away, my cruel father!There nae dancin wi me.’

Up spak the bride’s father,

Said, Bride, will ye dance wi me?

‘Away, away, my cruel father!

There nae dancin wi me.’

26Up then spak the bride’s mother,Said, Bride, will ye dance wi me?‘Away, away, my mother dear!There nae dancin wi me.’

Up then spak the bride’s mother,

Said, Bride, will ye dance wi me?

‘Away, away, my mother dear!

There nae dancin wi me.’

27Up then spak the bride’s sisters, etc.

Up then spak the bride’s sisters, etc.

28Up then spak the bride’s brother, etc.

Up then spak the bride’s brother, etc.

29Then up spak the bold bridegroom, [etc.]

Then up spak the bold bridegroom, [etc.]

30Up then spak the Sweet Willie,An he spak wi a vance;‘An ye’ll draw of my boots, Janet,I’ll gie a’ yer lassies a dance.’

Up then spak the Sweet Willie,

An he spak wi a vance;

‘An ye’ll draw of my boots, Janet,

I’ll gie a’ yer lassies a dance.’

31‘I seen ‘t other ways, Willie,An sae has mae than me,When ye wad hae danced wi my fair body,An leten a’ my maidens be.’

‘I seen ‘t other ways, Willie,

An sae has mae than me,

When ye wad hae danced wi my fair body,

An leten a’ my maidens be.’

32He took her by the milk-white hand,An led her wi mickle care,But she drapit down just at his feet,And word spak little mair.

He took her by the milk-white hand,

An led her wi mickle care,

But she drapit down just at his feet,

And word spak little mair.

33‘Ye may gae hire a nurse, Willie,An take yer young son hame;Ye may gae hire a nurse, Willie,For bairn’s nurse I’ll be nane.’

‘Ye may gae hire a nurse, Willie,

An take yer young son hame;

Ye may gae hire a nurse, Willie,

For bairn’s nurse I’ll be nane.’

34She’s pu’d out the keys o her coffer,Hung leugh down by her gair;She said, Gie thae to my young son,Thrae me he’ll neer get mair.’

She’s pu’d out the keys o her coffer,

Hung leugh down by her gair;

She said, Gie thae to my young son,

Thrae me he’ll neer get mair.’

35Up then spak the bold bridegroom,An he spak bousterouslie;‘I’ve gien you the skaeth, Willie,But ye’ve gien me the scorn;Sae there’s no a bell i St Mary’s kirkSall ring for her the morn.’

Up then spak the bold bridegroom,

An he spak bousterouslie;

‘I’ve gien you the skaeth, Willie,

But ye’ve gien me the scorn;

Sae there’s no a bell i St Mary’s kirk

Sall ring for her the morn.’

36‘Ye’ve gien me the skaeth, bridegroom,But I’ll gee you the scorn;For there’s no a bell i St Marie’s kirkBut sal ring for her the morn.

‘Ye’ve gien me the skaeth, bridegroom,

But I’ll gee you the scorn;

For there’s no a bell i St Marie’s kirk

But sal ring for her the morn.

37‘Gar deal, gar deal at my love’s burialThe wheat-bread an the wine,For or the morn at ten o clockYe’ll deal ‘d as fast at mine.’

‘Gar deal, gar deal at my love’s burial

The wheat-bread an the wine,

For or the morn at ten o clock

Ye’ll deal ‘d as fast at mine.’

38Then he’s drawn out a nut-brown sword,Hang leugh down by his gair,He’s thrust it in just at his heart,An word spak never mair.

Then he’s drawn out a nut-brown sword,

Hang leugh down by his gair,

He’s thrust it in just at his heart,

An word spak never mair.

39The taen was buried i St Mary’s kirk,The tother i St Mary’s queer,An throw the taen there sprang a birk,Throw the tother a bonnie brier.

The taen was buried i St Mary’s kirk,

The tother i St Mary’s queer,

An throw the taen there sprang a birk,

Throw the tother a bonnie brier.

40Thae twae met, an thae twae plaet,An ay they knitit near,An ilka ane that cam therebySaid, There lies twa lovers dear.

Thae twae met, an thae twae plaet,

An ay they knitit near,

An ilka ane that cam thereby

Said, There lies twa lovers dear.

41Till by there came an ill French lord,An ill death may he die!For he pu’d up the bonnie brier,. . . . . . . .

Till by there came an ill French lord,

An ill death may he die!

For he pu’d up the bonnie brier,

. . . . . . . .

51. Awaystruck out, andonwritten over.

91. Anat the beginning struck out.

101,2,3. drew to them their? Cf.A10.

114.The fourth verse is written as the second(itforin),but struck out.

121. bukit.

133.Changed, by striking out, toAn sair, sair my side. An sair, sair is my sideshould probably be the second line.

Cf.A17,C12.

152. An whae I will.

164. He’ll neer will.

184. Butstruck out.

234. But an?

301. he Sweet Willie?

342. Hang? Cf. 382.

392.MS.queer Choir.

404. twastruck out.

P. 112 b.I.“Mrs Baird says that this ballad was printed in the Saltmarket [Glasgow] by the Robertsons about seventy years ago.” Note by Motherwell in a copy of his Minstrelsy.

113, note §. ‘Galancina’ also in Munthe, Folkpoesi från Asturien, No 3, Upsala Universitets Årsskrift, 1887.

‘Lady Margery,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 71, MS. of Thomas Wilkie, p. 71, Abbotsford. “From the recitation of Janet Scott, Bowden, who sung a dysmal air, as she called it, to the words.”

This version resemblesD. 12, 13, may be caught from ‘Lord Derwentwater:’ see No 208,E8, 9,F9, 10. Omens are not in place after the positive information given in 11.

1Lady Margery was the king’s ae daughter,But an the prince’s heir; OShe’s away to Strawberry Castle,To learn some English lair. O2She had not been in Strawberry CastleA twelvemonth and a dayTill she’s even as big wi childAs ever a lady could gae.3Her father’s to the cutting o the birks,Her mother to the broom,And a’ for to get a bundle o sticksTo burn that fair lady in.4‘O hold your hand now, father dear,O hold a little while,For if my true-love be yet aliveI’ll hear his bridle ring.5‘Where will I get a bonny boy,That will win hoes and shoon,That will run to Strawberry CastleAnd tell my love to come?’6She’s called on her waiting-maidTo bring out bread and wine:‘Now eat and drink, my bonny boy,Ye’ll neer eat mair o mine.’7Away that bonny boy he’s gaen,As fast as he could rin;When he cam where grass grew greenSet down his feet and ran.8And when he cam where brigs were brokenHe bent his bow and swam;. . . . . . .. . . . . . .9When he came to Strawberry Castle,He lighted on the green;Who was so ready as the noble lordTo rise and let the boy in!10‘What news? what news, my pretty page?What tydings do ye bring?Is my lady lighter yetOf a daughter or a son?’11‘Bad news, bad news, my noble lord,Bad tydings have I brung;The fairest lady in a’ ScotlandThis day for you does burn.’12He has mounted a stately steedAnd he was bound to ride;The silver buttons flew off his coatAnd his nose began to bleed.13The second steed that lord mountedStumbled at a stone;‘Alass! alass!’ he cried with grief,‘My lady will be gone.’14When he came from Strawberry CastleHe lighted boots and a’;He thought to have goten a kiss from her,But her body fell in twa.15For the sake o Lady MargeryHe’s cursed her father and mother,For the sake o Lady MargeryHe’s cursed her sister and brother.16And for the sake o Lady MargeryHe’s cursed all her kin;He cried, Scotland is the ae warst placeThat ever my fit was in!

1Lady Margery was the king’s ae daughter,But an the prince’s heir; OShe’s away to Strawberry Castle,To learn some English lair. O

Lady Margery was the king’s ae daughter,

But an the prince’s heir; O

She’s away to Strawberry Castle,

To learn some English lair. O

2She had not been in Strawberry CastleA twelvemonth and a dayTill she’s even as big wi childAs ever a lady could gae.

She had not been in Strawberry Castle

A twelvemonth and a day

Till she’s even as big wi child

As ever a lady could gae.

3Her father’s to the cutting o the birks,Her mother to the broom,And a’ for to get a bundle o sticksTo burn that fair lady in.

Her father’s to the cutting o the birks,

Her mother to the broom,

And a’ for to get a bundle o sticks

To burn that fair lady in.

4‘O hold your hand now, father dear,O hold a little while,For if my true-love be yet aliveI’ll hear his bridle ring.

‘O hold your hand now, father dear,

O hold a little while,

For if my true-love be yet alive

I’ll hear his bridle ring.

5‘Where will I get a bonny boy,That will win hoes and shoon,That will run to Strawberry CastleAnd tell my love to come?’

‘Where will I get a bonny boy,

That will win hoes and shoon,

That will run to Strawberry Castle

And tell my love to come?’

6She’s called on her waiting-maidTo bring out bread and wine:‘Now eat and drink, my bonny boy,Ye’ll neer eat mair o mine.’

She’s called on her waiting-maid

To bring out bread and wine:

‘Now eat and drink, my bonny boy,

Ye’ll neer eat mair o mine.’

7Away that bonny boy he’s gaen,As fast as he could rin;When he cam where grass grew greenSet down his feet and ran.

Away that bonny boy he’s gaen,

As fast as he could rin;

When he cam where grass grew green

Set down his feet and ran.

8And when he cam where brigs were brokenHe bent his bow and swam;. . . . . . .. . . . . . .

And when he cam where brigs were broken

He bent his bow and swam;

. . . . . . .

9When he came to Strawberry Castle,He lighted on the green;Who was so ready as the noble lordTo rise and let the boy in!

When he came to Strawberry Castle,

He lighted on the green;

Who was so ready as the noble lord

To rise and let the boy in!

10‘What news? what news, my pretty page?What tydings do ye bring?Is my lady lighter yetOf a daughter or a son?’

‘What news? what news, my pretty page?

What tydings do ye bring?

Is my lady lighter yet

Of a daughter or a son?’

11‘Bad news, bad news, my noble lord,Bad tydings have I brung;The fairest lady in a’ ScotlandThis day for you does burn.’

‘Bad news, bad news, my noble lord,

Bad tydings have I brung;

The fairest lady in a’ Scotland

This day for you does burn.’

12He has mounted a stately steedAnd he was bound to ride;The silver buttons flew off his coatAnd his nose began to bleed.

He has mounted a stately steed

And he was bound to ride;

The silver buttons flew off his coat

And his nose began to bleed.

13The second steed that lord mountedStumbled at a stone;‘Alass! alass!’ he cried with grief,‘My lady will be gone.’

The second steed that lord mounted

Stumbled at a stone;

‘Alass! alass!’ he cried with grief,

‘My lady will be gone.’

14When he came from Strawberry CastleHe lighted boots and a’;He thought to have goten a kiss from her,But her body fell in twa.

When he came from Strawberry Castle

He lighted boots and a’;

He thought to have goten a kiss from her,

But her body fell in twa.

15For the sake o Lady MargeryHe’s cursed her father and mother,For the sake o Lady MargeryHe’s cursed her sister and brother.

For the sake o Lady Margery

He’s cursed her father and mother,

For the sake o Lady Margery

He’s cursed her sister and brother.

16And for the sake o Lady MargeryHe’s cursed all her kin;He cried, Scotland is the ae warst placeThat ever my fit was in!

And for the sake o Lady Margery

He’s cursed all her kin;

He cried, Scotland is the ae warst place

That ever my fit was in!

O,added in singing to the second and fourth lines of each stanza, is sometimes not written in the MS.

9is written as the third and fourth lines of8.

15and16are written as one stanza of four long lines.

“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 22 f; in the handwriting of William Laidlaw. “From Jean Scott.” This version resemblesE.

1Marjorie was her father’s dear,Her mother’s only heir,An she’s away to Strawberry Castle,To learn some unco lear.2She had na been i Strawberry CastleA year but barely threeTill Marjorie turnd big wi child,As big as big could be.* * * * * *3‘Will ye hae that old, old manTo be yer daily mate,Or will ye burn in fire strongFor your true lover’s sake?’4‘I winna marry that old, old manTo be my daily mate;I’ll rather burn i fire strongFor my true lover’s sake.* * * * * *5‘O where will I get a bonnie boyThat will win hose an shoonAn will gae rin to Strawberry Castle,To gar my good lord come soon?’6‘Here am I, a bonnie boyThat will win hose an shoon,An I’ll gae rin to Strawberry Castle,And gar your lord come soon.’7‘Should ye come to a brocken brig,Than bend your bow an swim;An whan ye com to garse growinSet down yer feet an rin.’8When eer he came to brigs broken,He bent his bow an swam,And whan he cam to grass growinHe set down his feet an ran.7When eer he cam to Strawberry CastleHe tirlt at the pin;There was nane sae ready as that young lordTo open an let him in.8‘Is there ony o my brigs broken?Or ony o my castles win?Or is my lady brought to bedOf a daughter or a son?’9‘There’s nane o a’ yer brigs broken,Ther’s nane of your castles win;But the fairest lady in a’ your landThis day for you will burn.’10‘Gar saddle me the black, black horse,Gar saddle me the brown,Gar saddle me the swiftest steadThat eer carried man to town.’11He’s burstit the black unto the slack,The grey unto the brae,An ay the page that ran aforeCried, Ride, sir, an ye may.12Her father kindlet the bale-fire,Her brother set the stake,Her mother sat an saw her burn,An never cried Alack!13‘Beet on, beet [on], my cruel father,For you I cound nae friend;But for fifteen well mete mileI’ll hear my love’s bridle ring.’14When he cam to the bonnie Dundee,He lightit wi a glent;Wi jet-black boots an glittrin spursThrough that bale-fire he went.15He thought his love wad hae datit him,But she was dead an gane;He was na sae wae for that ladyAs he was for her yong son.16‘But I’ll gar burn for you, Marjorie,Yer father an yer mother,An I’ll gar burn for you, Marjorie,Your sister an your brother.17‘An I will burn for you, Marjorie,The town that ye’r brunt in,An monie ane’s be fatherlessThat has but little sin.’

1Marjorie was her father’s dear,Her mother’s only heir,An she’s away to Strawberry Castle,To learn some unco lear.

Marjorie was her father’s dear,

Her mother’s only heir,

An she’s away to Strawberry Castle,

To learn some unco lear.

2She had na been i Strawberry CastleA year but barely threeTill Marjorie turnd big wi child,As big as big could be.

She had na been i Strawberry Castle

A year but barely three

Till Marjorie turnd big wi child,

As big as big could be.

* * * * * *

3‘Will ye hae that old, old manTo be yer daily mate,Or will ye burn in fire strongFor your true lover’s sake?’

‘Will ye hae that old, old man

To be yer daily mate,

Or will ye burn in fire strong

For your true lover’s sake?’

4‘I winna marry that old, old manTo be my daily mate;I’ll rather burn i fire strongFor my true lover’s sake.

‘I winna marry that old, old man

To be my daily mate;

I’ll rather burn i fire strong

For my true lover’s sake.

* * * * * *

5‘O where will I get a bonnie boyThat will win hose an shoonAn will gae rin to Strawberry Castle,To gar my good lord come soon?’

‘O where will I get a bonnie boy

That will win hose an shoon

An will gae rin to Strawberry Castle,

To gar my good lord come soon?’

6‘Here am I, a bonnie boyThat will win hose an shoon,An I’ll gae rin to Strawberry Castle,And gar your lord come soon.’

‘Here am I, a bonnie boy

That will win hose an shoon,

An I’ll gae rin to Strawberry Castle,

And gar your lord come soon.’

7‘Should ye come to a brocken brig,Than bend your bow an swim;An whan ye com to garse growinSet down yer feet an rin.’

‘Should ye come to a brocken brig,

Than bend your bow an swim;

An whan ye com to garse growin

Set down yer feet an rin.’

8When eer he came to brigs broken,He bent his bow an swam,And whan he cam to grass growinHe set down his feet an ran.

When eer he came to brigs broken,

He bent his bow an swam,

And whan he cam to grass growin

He set down his feet an ran.

7When eer he cam to Strawberry CastleHe tirlt at the pin;There was nane sae ready as that young lordTo open an let him in.

When eer he cam to Strawberry Castle

He tirlt at the pin;

There was nane sae ready as that young lord

To open an let him in.

8‘Is there ony o my brigs broken?Or ony o my castles win?Or is my lady brought to bedOf a daughter or a son?’

‘Is there ony o my brigs broken?

Or ony o my castles win?

Or is my lady brought to bed

Of a daughter or a son?’

9‘There’s nane o a’ yer brigs broken,Ther’s nane of your castles win;But the fairest lady in a’ your landThis day for you will burn.’

‘There’s nane o a’ yer brigs broken,

Ther’s nane of your castles win;

But the fairest lady in a’ your land

This day for you will burn.’

10‘Gar saddle me the black, black horse,Gar saddle me the brown,Gar saddle me the swiftest steadThat eer carried man to town.’

‘Gar saddle me the black, black horse,

Gar saddle me the brown,

Gar saddle me the swiftest stead

That eer carried man to town.’

11He’s burstit the black unto the slack,The grey unto the brae,An ay the page that ran aforeCried, Ride, sir, an ye may.

He’s burstit the black unto the slack,

The grey unto the brae,

An ay the page that ran afore

Cried, Ride, sir, an ye may.

12Her father kindlet the bale-fire,Her brother set the stake,Her mother sat an saw her burn,An never cried Alack!

Her father kindlet the bale-fire,

Her brother set the stake,

Her mother sat an saw her burn,

An never cried Alack!

13‘Beet on, beet [on], my cruel father,For you I cound nae friend;But for fifteen well mete mileI’ll hear my love’s bridle ring.’

‘Beet on, beet [on], my cruel father,

For you I cound nae friend;

But for fifteen well mete mile

I’ll hear my love’s bridle ring.’

14When he cam to the bonnie Dundee,He lightit wi a glent;Wi jet-black boots an glittrin spursThrough that bale-fire he went.

When he cam to the bonnie Dundee,

He lightit wi a glent;

Wi jet-black boots an glittrin spurs

Through that bale-fire he went.

15He thought his love wad hae datit him,But she was dead an gane;He was na sae wae for that ladyAs he was for her yong son.

He thought his love wad hae datit him,

But she was dead an gane;

He was na sae wae for that lady

As he was for her yong son.

16‘But I’ll gar burn for you, Marjorie,Yer father an yer mother,An I’ll gar burn for you, Marjorie,Your sister an your brother.

‘But I’ll gar burn for you, Marjorie,

Yer father an yer mother,

An I’ll gar burn for you, Marjorie,

Your sister an your brother.

17‘An I will burn for you, Marjorie,The town that ye’r brunt in,An monie ane’s be fatherlessThat has but little sin.’

‘An I will burn for you, Marjorie,

The town that ye’r brunt in,

An monie ane’s be fatherless

That has but little sin.’

43. Butat the beginning struck out.

10. greyis written over brown in the second line (perhaps because ofgreyin 112), andto townis struck out in the fourth line, but nothing supplied.

P. 136. “Glen Kindy, or rather Glen Skeeny, I have heard, and there is a ballad in Percy’s collection that is very much the same.” Mrs Brown, in a letter to Jamieson, June 18, 1801, Jamieson-Brown MS., Appendix, p. x.

137 a, second paragraph. ‘Riddaren och torpar-drängen,’ Lagus, Nyländska Folkvisor, I, 133, No 43.

P. 142 b. The four additional stanzas inJfirst appeared in the second edition of the Minstrelsy, 1803, II, 44.

143 b, 512 a, III, 509 a. Discovery of drowned bodies. Add: La Tradition, IV, 236.

143 b, second paragraph. Many cases in Pitcairn’s Criminal Trials, III, 182–99.

P. 157 f. Scandinavian ballads. See Danmarks gamle Folkeviser, now edited by Axel Olrik, V, II, 210, No 304, ‘De hurtige Svar.’ There are two Färöe versions,A a,A b,B, now No 124 of the MS. Føroyjakvæði. Hammershaimb’s ballad is a compound ofA a,B. There is a Norwegian copy, which I failed to note, in Danske Viser, IV, 363 f, and there are others in the hands of Professor Bugge. There are two Swedish unprinted copies in Arwidsson’s collection, and others are referred to by Afzelius.Danish,A-D:A aandB care the copies referred to at p. 158,C, Dwere published in 1889, in Kristensen’s Jyske Folkeminder, X, 210 ff., No 51. For the Icelandic ballads see Olrik, No 294, p. 69 ff. A tendency to the comic is to be remarked in the Swedish and Danish group, in which (with one exception) a brother takes the place of the father.

158 a, III, 509 a.Spanish, add:‘Mañanita, mañanita,’ El Folk-Lore Frexnense y Bético-Extremeño, Fregenal, 1883–84, p. 171.

158 ff. ‘Clerk Sandy,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 22 c; in the handwriting of Richard Heber.

1Clerk Sandy an his true-loveCame oer the bent so brown,There was never sic a word between them tuaTill the bells rang in the toun.2‘Ye maun take out your pocket-napkinAn put it on my een,That safely I may say the mornI saw na yow yestreen.3‘Take me on your back, lady,An carry me to your bed,That safely I may say the mornYere bouer’s floor I never tread.’4She’s taen him in her armeys tua,An carried him to her bed,That safely he may say the mornHer bouer’s floor he never tread.5‘I have seven brethren,’ she says,‘An bold young men they be;If they see me an you thegether,Yere butcher they will be.’6They had na sutten as lang, as langAs other lovers when they meet,Till Clerk Sandy an his true-loveThey fell baith sound asleep.7In an came her seven brethren,An bold young men they’ve been:‘We have only ae sister in a’ the world,An wi Clerk Sandy she’s lein.’8Out an spake her second brother:‘I’m sure it’s nae injury;If there was na another man in a’ the world.His butcher I will be.’9He’s taen out a little pen-knife,Hang low doun by his gaer,An thro an thro Clerk Sandy’s middle;A word spake he never mair.10They lay lang, an lang they lay,Till the bird in its cage did sing;She softly unto him did say,I wonder ye sleep sae soun.11They lay lang, an lang they lay,Till the sun shane on their feet;She softly unto him did say,Ye ly too sound asleep.12She softly turnd her round about,An wondred he slept sae soun;An she lookd ovr her left shoulder,An the blood about them ran.

1Clerk Sandy an his true-loveCame oer the bent so brown,There was never sic a word between them tuaTill the bells rang in the toun.

Clerk Sandy an his true-love

Came oer the bent so brown,

There was never sic a word between them tua

Till the bells rang in the toun.

2‘Ye maun take out your pocket-napkinAn put it on my een,That safely I may say the mornI saw na yow yestreen.

‘Ye maun take out your pocket-napkin

An put it on my een,

That safely I may say the morn

I saw na yow yestreen.

3‘Take me on your back, lady,An carry me to your bed,That safely I may say the mornYere bouer’s floor I never tread.’

‘Take me on your back, lady,

An carry me to your bed,

That safely I may say the morn

Yere bouer’s floor I never tread.’

4She’s taen him in her armeys tua,An carried him to her bed,That safely he may say the mornHer bouer’s floor he never tread.

She’s taen him in her armeys tua,

An carried him to her bed,

That safely he may say the morn

Her bouer’s floor he never tread.

5‘I have seven brethren,’ she says,‘An bold young men they be;If they see me an you thegether,Yere butcher they will be.’

‘I have seven brethren,’ she says,

‘An bold young men they be;

If they see me an you thegether,

Yere butcher they will be.’

6They had na sutten as lang, as langAs other lovers when they meet,Till Clerk Sandy an his true-loveThey fell baith sound asleep.

They had na sutten as lang, as lang

As other lovers when they meet,

Till Clerk Sandy an his true-love

They fell baith sound asleep.

7In an came her seven brethren,An bold young men they’ve been:‘We have only ae sister in a’ the world,An wi Clerk Sandy she’s lein.’

In an came her seven brethren,

An bold young men they’ve been:

‘We have only ae sister in a’ the world,

An wi Clerk Sandy she’s lein.’

8Out an spake her second brother:‘I’m sure it’s nae injury;If there was na another man in a’ the world.His butcher I will be.’

Out an spake her second brother:

‘I’m sure it’s nae injury;

If there was na another man in a’ the world.

His butcher I will be.’

9He’s taen out a little pen-knife,Hang low doun by his gaer,An thro an thro Clerk Sandy’s middle;A word spake he never mair.

He’s taen out a little pen-knife,

Hang low doun by his gaer,

An thro an thro Clerk Sandy’s middle;

A word spake he never mair.

10They lay lang, an lang they lay,Till the bird in its cage did sing;She softly unto him did say,I wonder ye sleep sae soun.

They lay lang, an lang they lay,

Till the bird in its cage did sing;

She softly unto him did say,

I wonder ye sleep sae soun.

11They lay lang, an lang they lay,Till the sun shane on their feet;She softly unto him did say,Ye ly too sound asleep.

They lay lang, an lang they lay,

Till the sun shane on their feet;

She softly unto him did say,

Ye ly too sound asleep.

12She softly turnd her round about,An wondred he slept sae soun;An she lookd ovr her left shoulder,An the blood about them ran.

She softly turnd her round about,

An wondred he slept sae soun;

An she lookd ovr her left shoulder,

An the blood about them ran.

12. bents o Broun.

P. 170 a, III, 509 a, IV, 164 b.Danish.‘Jomfruens Brødre,’ ‘Hr. Hjælm,’Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 266, 269, No 65,A, B, No 66.

P. 174, 512 a, III, 509 a. M. Gaston Paris has made it strongly probable that Pontoise, and not Toulouse, was originally the scene of the French-Catalan-Italian ballad. Three students had inadvertently trespassed on the hunting-grounds of Enguerrand de Couci; the baron had them arrested by his foresters and hanged from the battlements of his castle; for which St Louis made him pay a heavy fine, and with the money founded a hospital at Pontoise. Journal des Savants, Sept.-Nov., 1889, p. 614.

P. 180. Norse (1). ‘Peder och liten Stina,’ Lagus, Nyländska Folkvisor, I, 18, No 5. Stina hangs herself in the orchard. Peder runs on his spear.

181, III, 510 b. French ballads. ‘La Délaissée,’ Daymard, Vieux Chants p. rec. en Quercy, p. 50. ‘Le Rossignolet,’ Revue des Traditions pop., V, 144, 205.

P. 182 f. “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 22 h; in the handwriting of William Laidlaw. From Jean Scott.

1Fair Annie an Sweet WillieSat a’ day on yon hill;Whan day was gane an night was comd,They hadna said their fill.2Willie spak but ae wrang word,An Annie took it ill:‘I’ll never marry a fair womanAgainst my friends’s will.’3Annie spak but ae wrang word,An Willy lookit down:‘If I binna gude eneugh for yer wife,I’m our-gude for yer loun.’4Willie’s turnd his horse’s head about,He’s turnd it to the broom,An he’s away to his father’s bower,I the ae light o the moon.5Whan he cam to his father’s bower,[He tirlt at the pin;Nane was sae ready as his fatherTo rise an let him in.]6‘An askin, an askin, dear father,An askin I’ll ask thee;’‘Say on, say on, my son Willie,Whatever your askin be.’7‘O sall I marry the nit-brown bride,Has corn, caitle an kye,Or sall I marry Fair Annie,Has nought but fair beauty?’8‘Ye ma sit a gude sate, Willy,Wi corn, caitle an kye;But ye’ll but sit a silly sateWi nought but fair beauty.’9Up than spak his sister’s son,Sat on the nurse’s knee,Sun-bruist in his mother’s wame,Sun-brunt on his nurse’s knee:10‘O yer hogs will die out i the field,Yer kye ill die i the byre;An than, whan a’ yer gear is gane,A fusom fag by yer fire!But a’ will thrive at is wi youAn ye get yer heart’s desire.’11Willie’s turnd his horse’s head about,He’s away to his mother’s bour, etc.12‘O my hogs ill die out i the field,My kye die i the byre,An than, whan a’ my gear is gane,A fusom fag bi my fire!But a’ will thrive at is wi meGin I get my heart’s desire.’13Willie’s, etc.,He’s awae to his brother’s bower, etc.14“ ” “ ” sister’s bower, etc.@15Than Willie has set his wadin-dayWithin thirty days an three,An he has sent to Fair AnnieHis waddin to come an see.16The man that gade to Fair AnnieSae weel his errant coud tell:‘The morn it’s Willie’s wadin-day,Ye maun be there yer sell.’17’Twas up an spak her aged father,He spak wi muckle care;‘An the morn be Willie’s wadin-day,I wate she maun be there.18‘Gar take a steed to the smiddie,Caw on o it four shoon;Gar take her to a merchant’s shop,Cut off for her a gown.’19She wadna ha’t o the red sae red,Nor yet o the grey sae grey,But she wad ha’t o the sky coulerThat she woor ilka day.* * * * * *20There war four-an-twontie gray goss-hawksA flaffin their wings sae wide,To flaff the stour thra off the roadThat Fair Annie did ride.21The[re] war four-a-twontie milk-white dowsA fleein aboon her head,An four-an-twontie milk-white swansHer out the gate to lead.22Whan she cam to St Marie’s kirk,She lightit on a stane;The beauty o that fair creatureShone oer mony ane.23’Twas than out cam the nit-brown bride,She spak wi muckle spite;‘O where gat ye the water, Annie,That washes you sae white?’24‘I gat my beautyWhere ye was no to see;I gat it i my father’s garden,Aneath an apple tree.25‘Ye ma wash i dubs,’ she said,‘An ye ma wash i syke,But an ye wad wash till doomsdayYe neer will be as white.26‘Ye ma wash i dubs,’ she said,‘An ye ma wash i the sea,But an ye soud wash till doomsdayYe’ll neer be as white as me.27‘For I gat a’ this fair beautyWhere ye gat never none,For I gat a’ this fair beautyOr ever I was born.’28It was than out cam Willie,Wi hats o silks and flowers;He said, Keep ye thae, my Fair Annie,An brook them weel for yours.’29‘Na, keep ye thae, Willie,’ she said,‘Gie them to yer nit-brown bride;Bid her wear them wi mukle care,For woman has na born a sonSal mak my heart as sair.’30Annie’s luppen on her steedAn she has ridden hame,Than Annie’s luppen of her steedAn her bed she has taen.31When mass was sung, an bells war rung,An a’ man bound to bed,An Willie an his nit-brown brideI their chamber war laid.32They war na weel laid in their bed,Nor yet weel faen asleep,Till up an startit Fair Annie,Just up at Willie’s feet.33‘How like ye yer bed, Willie?An how like ye yer sheets?An how like ye yer nut-brown bride,Lies in yer arms an sleeps?’34‘Weel eneugh I like my bed, Annie,Weel eneugh I like my sheets;But wae be to the nit-brown brideLies in my arms an sleeps!’35Willie’s ca’d on his merry men a’To rise an pit on their shoon;‘An we’ll awae to Annie’s bower,Wi the ae light o the moon.’36An whan he cam to Annie’s bower,He tirlt at the pin;Nane was sae ready as her fatherTo rise an let him in.37There was her father a[n] her se’en brethrenA makin to her a bier,Wi ae stamp o the melten goud,Another o siller clear.38When he cam to the chamber-doorWhere that the dead lay in,There was her mother an six sistersA makin to her a sheet,Wi ae drap o . . . .Another o silk sae white.39‘Stand by, stand by now, ladies a’,Let me look on the dead;The last time that I kiss[t] her lipsThey war mair bonny red.’40‘Stand by, stand by now, Willie,’ they said,‘An let ye her alane;Gin ye had done as ye soud done,She wad na there ha lien.’41‘Gar deal, gar deal at Annie’s burrialThe wheat bread an the wine,For or the morn at ten o clockYe’s deal’d as fast at mine.’

1Fair Annie an Sweet WillieSat a’ day on yon hill;Whan day was gane an night was comd,They hadna said their fill.

Fair Annie an Sweet Willie

Sat a’ day on yon hill;

Whan day was gane an night was comd,

They hadna said their fill.

2Willie spak but ae wrang word,An Annie took it ill:‘I’ll never marry a fair womanAgainst my friends’s will.’

Willie spak but ae wrang word,

An Annie took it ill:

‘I’ll never marry a fair woman

Against my friends’s will.’

3Annie spak but ae wrang word,An Willy lookit down:‘If I binna gude eneugh for yer wife,I’m our-gude for yer loun.’

Annie spak but ae wrang word,

An Willy lookit down:

‘If I binna gude eneugh for yer wife,

I’m our-gude for yer loun.’

4Willie’s turnd his horse’s head about,He’s turnd it to the broom,An he’s away to his father’s bower,I the ae light o the moon.

Willie’s turnd his horse’s head about,

He’s turnd it to the broom,

An he’s away to his father’s bower,

I the ae light o the moon.

5Whan he cam to his father’s bower,[He tirlt at the pin;Nane was sae ready as his fatherTo rise an let him in.]

Whan he cam to his father’s bower,

[He tirlt at the pin;

Nane was sae ready as his father

To rise an let him in.]

6‘An askin, an askin, dear father,An askin I’ll ask thee;’‘Say on, say on, my son Willie,Whatever your askin be.’

‘An askin, an askin, dear father,

An askin I’ll ask thee;’

‘Say on, say on, my son Willie,

Whatever your askin be.’

7‘O sall I marry the nit-brown bride,Has corn, caitle an kye,Or sall I marry Fair Annie,Has nought but fair beauty?’

‘O sall I marry the nit-brown bride,

Has corn, caitle an kye,

Or sall I marry Fair Annie,

Has nought but fair beauty?’

8‘Ye ma sit a gude sate, Willy,Wi corn, caitle an kye;But ye’ll but sit a silly sateWi nought but fair beauty.’

‘Ye ma sit a gude sate, Willy,

Wi corn, caitle an kye;

But ye’ll but sit a silly sate

Wi nought but fair beauty.’

9Up than spak his sister’s son,Sat on the nurse’s knee,Sun-bruist in his mother’s wame,Sun-brunt on his nurse’s knee:

Up than spak his sister’s son,

Sat on the nurse’s knee,

Sun-bruist in his mother’s wame,

Sun-brunt on his nurse’s knee:

10‘O yer hogs will die out i the field,Yer kye ill die i the byre;An than, whan a’ yer gear is gane,A fusom fag by yer fire!But a’ will thrive at is wi youAn ye get yer heart’s desire.’

‘O yer hogs will die out i the field,

Yer kye ill die i the byre;

An than, whan a’ yer gear is gane,

A fusom fag by yer fire!

But a’ will thrive at is wi you

An ye get yer heart’s desire.’

11Willie’s turnd his horse’s head about,He’s away to his mother’s bour, etc.

Willie’s turnd his horse’s head about,

He’s away to his mother’s bour, etc.

12‘O my hogs ill die out i the field,My kye die i the byre,An than, whan a’ my gear is gane,A fusom fag bi my fire!But a’ will thrive at is wi meGin I get my heart’s desire.’

‘O my hogs ill die out i the field,

My kye die i the byre,

An than, whan a’ my gear is gane,

A fusom fag bi my fire!

But a’ will thrive at is wi me

Gin I get my heart’s desire.’

13Willie’s, etc.,He’s awae to his brother’s bower, etc.

Willie’s, etc.,

He’s awae to his brother’s bower, etc.

14“ ” “ ” sister’s bower, etc.@

“ ” “ ” sister’s bower, etc.@

15Than Willie has set his wadin-dayWithin thirty days an three,An he has sent to Fair AnnieHis waddin to come an see.

Than Willie has set his wadin-day

Within thirty days an three,

An he has sent to Fair Annie

His waddin to come an see.

16The man that gade to Fair AnnieSae weel his errant coud tell:‘The morn it’s Willie’s wadin-day,Ye maun be there yer sell.’

The man that gade to Fair Annie

Sae weel his errant coud tell:

‘The morn it’s Willie’s wadin-day,

Ye maun be there yer sell.’

17’Twas up an spak her aged father,He spak wi muckle care;‘An the morn be Willie’s wadin-day,I wate she maun be there.

’Twas up an spak her aged father,

He spak wi muckle care;

‘An the morn be Willie’s wadin-day,

I wate she maun be there.

18‘Gar take a steed to the smiddie,Caw on o it four shoon;Gar take her to a merchant’s shop,Cut off for her a gown.’

‘Gar take a steed to the smiddie,

Caw on o it four shoon;

Gar take her to a merchant’s shop,

Cut off for her a gown.’

19She wadna ha’t o the red sae red,Nor yet o the grey sae grey,But she wad ha’t o the sky coulerThat she woor ilka day.

She wadna ha’t o the red sae red,

Nor yet o the grey sae grey,

But she wad ha’t o the sky couler

That she woor ilka day.

* * * * * *

20There war four-an-twontie gray goss-hawksA flaffin their wings sae wide,To flaff the stour thra off the roadThat Fair Annie did ride.

There war four-an-twontie gray goss-hawks

A flaffin their wings sae wide,

To flaff the stour thra off the road

That Fair Annie did ride.

21The[re] war four-a-twontie milk-white dowsA fleein aboon her head,An four-an-twontie milk-white swansHer out the gate to lead.

The[re] war four-a-twontie milk-white dows

A fleein aboon her head,

An four-an-twontie milk-white swans

Her out the gate to lead.

22Whan she cam to St Marie’s kirk,She lightit on a stane;The beauty o that fair creatureShone oer mony ane.

Whan she cam to St Marie’s kirk,

She lightit on a stane;

The beauty o that fair creature

Shone oer mony ane.

23’Twas than out cam the nit-brown bride,She spak wi muckle spite;‘O where gat ye the water, Annie,That washes you sae white?’

’Twas than out cam the nit-brown bride,

She spak wi muckle spite;

‘O where gat ye the water, Annie,

That washes you sae white?’

24‘I gat my beautyWhere ye was no to see;I gat it i my father’s garden,Aneath an apple tree.

‘I gat my beauty

Where ye was no to see;

I gat it i my father’s garden,

Aneath an apple tree.

25‘Ye ma wash i dubs,’ she said,‘An ye ma wash i syke,But an ye wad wash till doomsdayYe neer will be as white.

‘Ye ma wash i dubs,’ she said,

‘An ye ma wash i syke,

But an ye wad wash till doomsday

Ye neer will be as white.

26‘Ye ma wash i dubs,’ she said,‘An ye ma wash i the sea,But an ye soud wash till doomsdayYe’ll neer be as white as me.

‘Ye ma wash i dubs,’ she said,

‘An ye ma wash i the sea,

But an ye soud wash till doomsday

Ye’ll neer be as white as me.

27‘For I gat a’ this fair beautyWhere ye gat never none,For I gat a’ this fair beautyOr ever I was born.’

‘For I gat a’ this fair beauty

Where ye gat never none,

For I gat a’ this fair beauty

Or ever I was born.’

28It was than out cam Willie,Wi hats o silks and flowers;He said, Keep ye thae, my Fair Annie,An brook them weel for yours.’

It was than out cam Willie,

Wi hats o silks and flowers;

He said, Keep ye thae, my Fair Annie,

An brook them weel for yours.’

29‘Na, keep ye thae, Willie,’ she said,‘Gie them to yer nit-brown bride;Bid her wear them wi mukle care,For woman has na born a sonSal mak my heart as sair.’

‘Na, keep ye thae, Willie,’ she said,

‘Gie them to yer nit-brown bride;

Bid her wear them wi mukle care,

For woman has na born a son

Sal mak my heart as sair.’

30Annie’s luppen on her steedAn she has ridden hame,Than Annie’s luppen of her steedAn her bed she has taen.

Annie’s luppen on her steed

An she has ridden hame,

Than Annie’s luppen of her steed

An her bed she has taen.

31When mass was sung, an bells war rung,An a’ man bound to bed,An Willie an his nit-brown brideI their chamber war laid.

When mass was sung, an bells war rung,

An a’ man bound to bed,

An Willie an his nit-brown bride

I their chamber war laid.

32They war na weel laid in their bed,Nor yet weel faen asleep,Till up an startit Fair Annie,Just up at Willie’s feet.

They war na weel laid in their bed,

Nor yet weel faen asleep,

Till up an startit Fair Annie,

Just up at Willie’s feet.

33‘How like ye yer bed, Willie?An how like ye yer sheets?An how like ye yer nut-brown bride,Lies in yer arms an sleeps?’

‘How like ye yer bed, Willie?

An how like ye yer sheets?

An how like ye yer nut-brown bride,

Lies in yer arms an sleeps?’

34‘Weel eneugh I like my bed, Annie,Weel eneugh I like my sheets;But wae be to the nit-brown brideLies in my arms an sleeps!’

‘Weel eneugh I like my bed, Annie,

Weel eneugh I like my sheets;

But wae be to the nit-brown bride

Lies in my arms an sleeps!’

35Willie’s ca’d on his merry men a’To rise an pit on their shoon;‘An we’ll awae to Annie’s bower,Wi the ae light o the moon.’

Willie’s ca’d on his merry men a’

To rise an pit on their shoon;

‘An we’ll awae to Annie’s bower,

Wi the ae light o the moon.’

36An whan he cam to Annie’s bower,He tirlt at the pin;Nane was sae ready as her fatherTo rise an let him in.

An whan he cam to Annie’s bower,

He tirlt at the pin;

Nane was sae ready as her father

To rise an let him in.

37There was her father a[n] her se’en brethrenA makin to her a bier,Wi ae stamp o the melten goud,Another o siller clear.

There was her father a[n] her se’en brethren

A makin to her a bier,

Wi ae stamp o the melten goud,

Another o siller clear.

38When he cam to the chamber-doorWhere that the dead lay in,There was her mother an six sistersA makin to her a sheet,Wi ae drap o . . . .Another o silk sae white.

When he cam to the chamber-door

Where that the dead lay in,

There was her mother an six sisters

A makin to her a sheet,

Wi ae drap o . . . .

Another o silk sae white.

39‘Stand by, stand by now, ladies a’,Let me look on the dead;The last time that I kiss[t] her lipsThey war mair bonny red.’

‘Stand by, stand by now, ladies a’,

Let me look on the dead;

The last time that I kiss[t] her lips

They war mair bonny red.’

40‘Stand by, stand by now, Willie,’ they said,‘An let ye her alane;Gin ye had done as ye soud done,She wad na there ha lien.’

‘Stand by, stand by now, Willie,’ they said,

‘An let ye her alane;

Gin ye had done as ye soud done,

She wad na there ha lien.’

41‘Gar deal, gar deal at Annie’s burrialThe wheat bread an the wine,For or the morn at ten o clockYe’s deal’d as fast at mine.’

‘Gar deal, gar deal at Annie’s burrial

The wheat bread an the wine,

For or the morn at ten o clock

Ye’s deal’d as fast at mine.’

5. Whan he cam to his father’s bower, etc.Completed from 36.

72. caitlewritten undercattle.

84. Anniewritten overnought.

11.4–8 are intended to be repeated, with mother substituted forfather.

13, 14. 4–8, 12,are intended to be repeated, with the proper substitutions forbrother, sister.

After 19: Something about her sadle and steed.

202, 372, 384. A’;which may be intended.

29.CompareE30: but I am unable to suggest a satisfactory restoration of the stanza.

After 41: etc. See Sweet Willie an Janet.What should follow is probably, Sweet Willie was buried,etc.

There are six stanzas of ‘Lord Thomas and Fair Elenor,’ from Mrs Gammell’s recitation, in Pitcairn’s MSS, III, 35. They are of no value.

P. 204 f., note †, 512 b. Add: Hruschka u. Toischer, Deutsche V. l. aus Böhmen, p. 108, No 20,a-f.

205 a, note, III, 510 b. For ‘Stolten Hellelille, see Danmarks gamle Folkeviser, V, II, 352, No 312, ‘Gøde og Hillelille.’ Add: ‘Greven og lille Lise,’ Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 319, No 79,A-E.

205 b, III, 510 b. ‘Den elskedes Død:’ the same volume of Kristensen, ‘Herr Peders Kjæreste,’ p. 327, No 80.

206, 512 b, III, 510 b. ‘Lou Fil del Rey et sa Mio morto,’ Daymard, Vieux Chants p. rec. en Quercy, p. 82.

There is a similar ballad, ending with admonition from the dead mistress, in Luzel, Soniou, I, 324, 25, ‘Cloaregic ar Stanc.’

213 a. Title ofB. Not Lochroyan in Herd, I, 144, but, both in title and text, Lochvoyan. In Herd, II, 60, the title has Lochroyan; the word does not occur in so much of the text as remains. Printed Lochroyan by Herd, and probably Lochroyan was intended in I, 144, as the alternative, though the last letter but one is indistinctly written, and may be reade.Bcame to Herd “by post from a lady in Ayrshire (?), name unknown.” Also, No 38,A a, No 51,A a; No 161,B a; No 220,A. Note (in pencil, and indistinct as to the place), Herd’s MSS, I, 143.

215 a. A part of this ballad is introduced into two versions of ‘The Mother’s Malison,’ No 216; see IV, 186. See also ‘Fair Janet,’ No 64,A13,D5,G5.

217.B.Lochvoyan everywhere, not Lochroyan.

221.E22. Finlay, in a letter to Scott, March 27, 1803 (Letters, I, No 87), says, “in a copy which I have seen, with the music, it is a birchen, instead of a silver, kame.”

‘The Lass of Lochroyan,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 82, Abbotsford. Communicated to Scott by Major Henry Hutton, Royal Artillery, 24th December, 1802 (Letters I, No 77), as recollected by his father and the family.

Some ten stanzas of this version (16–19, 25–27, 30, 32, 34) appear to have been used by Scott in compiling the copy printed in his Minstrelsy,E b. (The note onE b, p. 226, requires correction.) There is much in common withB,E a,F.

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