VOL. III.

1O Johny’s up thro England ganeThree quarters of a year,An Johny’s up thro England gane,The king’s banner to bear.2He had not been in London townBut a very little whileTill the fairest lady in the courtBy Johny gaes wi child.3But word is to the kitchin gane,An word’s gane to the ha,An word’s gane to yon high, high court,Amang our nobles a’.4An when the king got wit o thatAn angry man was he:‘On the highest tree in a’ the woodHigh hangit shall he be!5‘An for the lady, if it’s true,As I do fear it be,I’ll put her in yon castle strong,An starve her till she die.’6But Johny had a clever boy,A clever boy was he,O Johny had a clever boy,His name was Gregory.7‘O run, my boy, to yon castle,All windows round about,An there you’l see a fair lady,At a window looking out.8‘Ye maun bid her take this silken sark—Her ain hand sewd the gare—An bid her come to the green wood,For Johny waits her there.’9Away he ran to yon castle,All windows round about,Where he espy’d a lady fair,At a window looking out.10‘O madam, there’s a silken sark—Your ain hand sewd the gare—An haste ye to the good green wood,For Johny waits you there.’11‘O I’m confin’d in this castle,Though lighted round about;My feet are bound with fetters strong,That I cannot win out.12‘My gartens are of stubborn ern,Alas! baith stiff and cold;My breastplate of the sturdy steel,Instead of beaten gold.13‘Instead of silken stays, my boy,With steel I’m lac’d about;My feet are bound with fetters strong,And how can I get out?14‘But tell him he must stay at home,Nor venture here for me;Else an Italian in our courtMust fight him till he die.’15When Johny he got wit o that,An angry man was he:‘But I will gae wi a’ my menMy dearest dear to see.’16But up then spake a noble lord,A noble lord was he;‘The best of a’ my merry menShall bear you company.’17But up then spake his auld mother,I wat wi meikle pain;‘If ye will gae to London, son,Ye’l neer come back again.’18But Johny turnd him round about,I wat wi meikle pride:‘But I will gae to London town,Whatever may betide.’19When they were a’ on horseback set,How comely to behold!For a’ the hairs o Johny’s headDid shine like threads o gold.20The first ae town that they gaed through,They gart the bells be rung,But the neist town that they gaed throughThey gart the mass be sung.21But when they gaed to London townThe trumpets loud were blown,Which made the king and a’ his courtTo marvel at the sound.22‘Is this the Duke of Morebattle?Or James the Scottish king?’‘No, sire, I’m a Scottish lord,McNaughten is my name.’23‘If you be that young Scottish lord,As I believe you be,The fairest lady in my courtShe gaes wi child by thee.’24‘And if she be with child by me,As I think sae may be,It shall be heir of a’ my land,And she my gay lady.’25‘O no, O no,’ the king reply’d,‘That thing can never be,For ere the morn at ten o clockI’ll slay thy men an thee.26‘A bold Italian in my courtHas vanquishd Scotchmen three,And ere the morn at ten o clockI’m sure he will slay thee.’27But up then spake young Johny’s boy,A clever boy was he;‘O master, ere that you be slain,There’s mae be slain than thee.’28The king and all his court appeardNeist morning on the plain,The queen and all her ladies cameTo see youn[g] Johny slain.29Out then stepd the Italian bold,And they met on the green;Between his shoulders was an ell,A span between his een.30When Johny in the list appeard,Sae young and fair to see,A prayer staw frae ilka heart,A tear frae ilka ee.31And lang they fought, and sair they fought,Wi swords o temperd steel,Until the blood like draps o rainCame trickling to their heal.32But Johny was a wannle youth,And that he weel did show;For wi a stroke o his broad swordHe clove his head in two.33‘A priest, a priest!’ then Johny cry’d,‘To wed my love and me;’‘A clerk, a clerk!’ the king reply’d,‘To write her tocher free.’

1O Johny’s up thro England ganeThree quarters of a year,An Johny’s up thro England gane,The king’s banner to bear.

O Johny’s up thro England gane

Three quarters of a year,

An Johny’s up thro England gane,

The king’s banner to bear.

2He had not been in London townBut a very little whileTill the fairest lady in the courtBy Johny gaes wi child.

He had not been in London town

But a very little while

Till the fairest lady in the court

By Johny gaes wi child.

3But word is to the kitchin gane,An word’s gane to the ha,An word’s gane to yon high, high court,Amang our nobles a’.

But word is to the kitchin gane,

An word’s gane to the ha,

An word’s gane to yon high, high court,

Amang our nobles a’.

4An when the king got wit o thatAn angry man was he:‘On the highest tree in a’ the woodHigh hangit shall he be!

An when the king got wit o that

An angry man was he:

‘On the highest tree in a’ the wood

High hangit shall he be!

5‘An for the lady, if it’s true,As I do fear it be,I’ll put her in yon castle strong,An starve her till she die.’

‘An for the lady, if it’s true,

As I do fear it be,

I’ll put her in yon castle strong,

An starve her till she die.’

6But Johny had a clever boy,A clever boy was he,O Johny had a clever boy,His name was Gregory.

But Johny had a clever boy,

A clever boy was he,

O Johny had a clever boy,

His name was Gregory.

7‘O run, my boy, to yon castle,All windows round about,An there you’l see a fair lady,At a window looking out.

‘O run, my boy, to yon castle,

All windows round about,

An there you’l see a fair lady,

At a window looking out.

8‘Ye maun bid her take this silken sark—Her ain hand sewd the gare—An bid her come to the green wood,For Johny waits her there.’

‘Ye maun bid her take this silken sark—

Her ain hand sewd the gare—

An bid her come to the green wood,

For Johny waits her there.’

9Away he ran to yon castle,All windows round about,Where he espy’d a lady fair,At a window looking out.

Away he ran to yon castle,

All windows round about,

Where he espy’d a lady fair,

At a window looking out.

10‘O madam, there’s a silken sark—Your ain hand sewd the gare—An haste ye to the good green wood,For Johny waits you there.’

‘O madam, there’s a silken sark—

Your ain hand sewd the gare—

An haste ye to the good green wood,

For Johny waits you there.’

11‘O I’m confin’d in this castle,Though lighted round about;My feet are bound with fetters strong,That I cannot win out.

‘O I’m confin’d in this castle,

Though lighted round about;

My feet are bound with fetters strong,

That I cannot win out.

12‘My gartens are of stubborn ern,Alas! baith stiff and cold;My breastplate of the sturdy steel,Instead of beaten gold.

‘My gartens are of stubborn ern,

Alas! baith stiff and cold;

My breastplate of the sturdy steel,

Instead of beaten gold.

13‘Instead of silken stays, my boy,With steel I’m lac’d about;My feet are bound with fetters strong,And how can I get out?

‘Instead of silken stays, my boy,

With steel I’m lac’d about;

My feet are bound with fetters strong,

And how can I get out?

14‘But tell him he must stay at home,Nor venture here for me;Else an Italian in our courtMust fight him till he die.’

‘But tell him he must stay at home,

Nor venture here for me;

Else an Italian in our court

Must fight him till he die.’

15When Johny he got wit o that,An angry man was he:‘But I will gae wi a’ my menMy dearest dear to see.’

When Johny he got wit o that,

An angry man was he:

‘But I will gae wi a’ my men

My dearest dear to see.’

16But up then spake a noble lord,A noble lord was he;‘The best of a’ my merry menShall bear you company.’

But up then spake a noble lord,

A noble lord was he;

‘The best of a’ my merry men

Shall bear you company.’

17But up then spake his auld mother,I wat wi meikle pain;‘If ye will gae to London, son,Ye’l neer come back again.’

But up then spake his auld mother,

I wat wi meikle pain;

‘If ye will gae to London, son,

Ye’l neer come back again.’

18But Johny turnd him round about,I wat wi meikle pride:‘But I will gae to London town,Whatever may betide.’

But Johny turnd him round about,

I wat wi meikle pride:

‘But I will gae to London town,

Whatever may betide.’

19When they were a’ on horseback set,How comely to behold!For a’ the hairs o Johny’s headDid shine like threads o gold.

When they were a’ on horseback set,

How comely to behold!

For a’ the hairs o Johny’s head

Did shine like threads o gold.

20The first ae town that they gaed through,They gart the bells be rung,But the neist town that they gaed throughThey gart the mass be sung.

The first ae town that they gaed through,

They gart the bells be rung,

But the neist town that they gaed through

They gart the mass be sung.

21But when they gaed to London townThe trumpets loud were blown,Which made the king and a’ his courtTo marvel at the sound.

But when they gaed to London town

The trumpets loud were blown,

Which made the king and a’ his court

To marvel at the sound.

22‘Is this the Duke of Morebattle?Or James the Scottish king?’‘No, sire, I’m a Scottish lord,McNaughten is my name.’

‘Is this the Duke of Morebattle?

Or James the Scottish king?’

‘No, sire, I’m a Scottish lord,

McNaughten is my name.’

23‘If you be that young Scottish lord,As I believe you be,The fairest lady in my courtShe gaes wi child by thee.’

‘If you be that young Scottish lord,

As I believe you be,

The fairest lady in my court

She gaes wi child by thee.’

24‘And if she be with child by me,As I think sae may be,It shall be heir of a’ my land,And she my gay lady.’

‘And if she be with child by me,

As I think sae may be,

It shall be heir of a’ my land,

And she my gay lady.’

25‘O no, O no,’ the king reply’d,‘That thing can never be,For ere the morn at ten o clockI’ll slay thy men an thee.

‘O no, O no,’ the king reply’d,

‘That thing can never be,

For ere the morn at ten o clock

I’ll slay thy men an thee.

26‘A bold Italian in my courtHas vanquishd Scotchmen three,And ere the morn at ten o clockI’m sure he will slay thee.’

‘A bold Italian in my court

Has vanquishd Scotchmen three,

And ere the morn at ten o clock

I’m sure he will slay thee.’

27But up then spake young Johny’s boy,A clever boy was he;‘O master, ere that you be slain,There’s mae be slain than thee.’

But up then spake young Johny’s boy,

A clever boy was he;

‘O master, ere that you be slain,

There’s mae be slain than thee.’

28The king and all his court appeardNeist morning on the plain,The queen and all her ladies cameTo see youn[g] Johny slain.

The king and all his court appeard

Neist morning on the plain,

The queen and all her ladies came

To see youn[g] Johny slain.

29Out then stepd the Italian bold,And they met on the green;Between his shoulders was an ell,A span between his een.

Out then stepd the Italian bold,

And they met on the green;

Between his shoulders was an ell,

A span between his een.

30When Johny in the list appeard,Sae young and fair to see,A prayer staw frae ilka heart,A tear frae ilka ee.

When Johny in the list appeard,

Sae young and fair to see,

A prayer staw frae ilka heart,

A tear frae ilka ee.

31And lang they fought, and sair they fought,Wi swords o temperd steel,Until the blood like draps o rainCame trickling to their heal.

And lang they fought, and sair they fought,

Wi swords o temperd steel,

Until the blood like draps o rain

Came trickling to their heal.

32But Johny was a wannle youth,And that he weel did show;For wi a stroke o his broad swordHe clove his head in two.

But Johny was a wannle youth,

And that he weel did show;

For wi a stroke o his broad sword

He clove his head in two.

33‘A priest, a priest!’ then Johny cry’d,‘To wed my love and me;’‘A clerk, a clerk!’ the king reply’d,‘To write her tocher free.’

‘A priest, a priest!’ then Johny cry’d,

‘To wed my love and me;’

‘A clerk, a clerk!’ the king reply’d,

‘To write her tocher free.’

‘John, the little Scot;’ in the youthful handwriting of Sir Walter Scott, inserted, as No 4, at the beginning of a MS. volume, in small folio, containing a number of prose pieces, etc., Abbotsford Library, L. 2.

1Johnny’s gane up to fair EnglandThree quarters of a year,And Johny’s gane up to fair England,The king’s broad banner to bear.2He had not been in fair England,Even but a little while,When that the king’s ae dochterTo Johnny gaes wi child.3And word is gane to the kitchen,And word’s gane to the ha,And word’s gane to the high, high court,Amang the nobles a’.4And word is gane unto the king,In the chair where he sat,That his ae dochter’s wi bairnTo John the little Scott.5‘If that I thought she is wi bairn,As I true weell she be,I’ll put her up in high prison,And hunger her till she die.’6‘There is a silken sark, Johnny,My ain sell sewed the gare,And if ye come to tak me henceYe need nae taken mare.7‘For I am up in high prison,And O but it is cold!My garters are o the cold, cold iron,In place o the beaten gold.’8‘Is this the Duke o York?’ they said,‘Or James the Scottish king?Or is it John the little Scott,Frae Scotland new come hame?’9‘I have an Italian in my bower,This day he has eaten three;Before I either eat or sleepThe fourth man ye shall be.’10. . . . . . .. . . . . . .Between his een there was two spans,His shoulders ells were three.11Johnny drew forth his good braid glaiveAnd slate it on the plain:‘Is there any more of your Italian dogsThat wanteth to be slain?’12‘A clerk, a clerk!’ her father cry’d‘To register this deed;’‘A priest, a priest!’ her mother cry’d,‘To marry them wi speed.’

1Johnny’s gane up to fair EnglandThree quarters of a year,And Johny’s gane up to fair England,The king’s broad banner to bear.

Johnny’s gane up to fair England

Three quarters of a year,

And Johny’s gane up to fair England,

The king’s broad banner to bear.

2He had not been in fair England,Even but a little while,When that the king’s ae dochterTo Johnny gaes wi child.

He had not been in fair England,

Even but a little while,

When that the king’s ae dochter

To Johnny gaes wi child.

3And word is gane to the kitchen,And word’s gane to the ha,And word’s gane to the high, high court,Amang the nobles a’.

And word is gane to the kitchen,

And word’s gane to the ha,

And word’s gane to the high, high court,

Amang the nobles a’.

4And word is gane unto the king,In the chair where he sat,That his ae dochter’s wi bairnTo John the little Scott.

And word is gane unto the king,

In the chair where he sat,

That his ae dochter’s wi bairn

To John the little Scott.

5‘If that I thought she is wi bairn,As I true weell she be,I’ll put her up in high prison,And hunger her till she die.’

‘If that I thought she is wi bairn,

As I true weell she be,

I’ll put her up in high prison,

And hunger her till she die.’

6‘There is a silken sark, Johnny,My ain sell sewed the gare,And if ye come to tak me henceYe need nae taken mare.

‘There is a silken sark, Johnny,

My ain sell sewed the gare,

And if ye come to tak me hence

Ye need nae taken mare.

7‘For I am up in high prison,And O but it is cold!My garters are o the cold, cold iron,In place o the beaten gold.’

‘For I am up in high prison,

And O but it is cold!

My garters are o the cold, cold iron,

In place o the beaten gold.’

8‘Is this the Duke o York?’ they said,‘Or James the Scottish king?Or is it John the little Scott,Frae Scotland new come hame?’

‘Is this the Duke o York?’ they said,

‘Or James the Scottish king?

Or is it John the little Scott,

Frae Scotland new come hame?’

9‘I have an Italian in my bower,This day he has eaten three;Before I either eat or sleepThe fourth man ye shall be.’

‘I have an Italian in my bower,

This day he has eaten three;

Before I either eat or sleep

The fourth man ye shall be.’

10. . . . . . .. . . . . . .Between his een there was two spans,His shoulders ells were three.

. . . . . . .

Between his een there was two spans,

His shoulders ells were three.

11Johnny drew forth his good braid glaiveAnd slate it on the plain:‘Is there any more of your Italian dogsThat wanteth to be slain?’

Johnny drew forth his good braid glaive

And slate it on the plain:

‘Is there any more of your Italian dogs

That wanteth to be slain?’

12‘A clerk, a clerk!’ her father cry’d‘To register this deed;’‘A priest, a priest!’ her mother cry’d,‘To marry them wi speed.’

‘A clerk, a clerk!’ her father cry’d

‘To register this deed;’

‘A priest, a priest!’ her mother cry’d,

‘To marry them wi speed.’

11. ganestruck out.

14. broadstruck out.

81. king o Scots,originally,forDuke o York.

91. n Italianstruck out, andLionwritten above.

P. 399 ff. MS. of Thomas Wilkie, p. 5, in “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 34. From Mrs Hislope, Gattonside. 1813.

1The king calld on his merry men all,By one, by two, and by three;Lord Thomas should been the foremost man,But the hindmost man was he.2As he came tripping down the stairs,His stockings were of the silk,His face was like the morning sun,And his hand as white as milk.3‘No wonder, no wonder, Lord Thomas,’ he said,‘Then my daughter she loved thee;For, if I had been a woman as I am a man,Tom, I would hae loved thee.’

1The king calld on his merry men all,By one, by two, and by three;Lord Thomas should been the foremost man,But the hindmost man was he.

The king calld on his merry men all,

By one, by two, and by three;

Lord Thomas should been the foremost man,

But the hindmost man was he.

2As he came tripping down the stairs,His stockings were of the silk,His face was like the morning sun,And his hand as white as milk.

As he came tripping down the stairs,

His stockings were of the silk,

His face was like the morning sun,

And his hand as white as milk.

3‘No wonder, no wonder, Lord Thomas,’ he said,‘Then my daughter she loved thee;For, if I had been a woman as I am a man,Tom, I would hae loved thee.’

‘No wonder, no wonder, Lord Thomas,’ he said,

‘Then my daughter she loved thee;

For, if I had been a woman as I am a man,

Tom, I would hae loved thee.’

106. The Famous Flower of Serving-Men.

P. 429. The fragment printed by Scott was given him by the Ettrick Shepherd. It was printed with no important change except in the last stanza, all of which is the editor’s but the second line. The two lines of stanza 7 are scored through in the MS.

“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 133 b, Abbotsford; in the handwriting of James Hogg.

1My love he built me a bonny bowr,An cled it a’ wi lily-flowr;A brawer bowr ye neer did seeThan my true-love he built to me.2There came a man by middle day,He spy’d his sport an went away,An brought the king that very night,Who brak my bowr, an slew my knight.3He slew my knight, to me sae dear;He slew my knight, an poind his gear;My servants all for life did flee,An left me in extremity.4I sewd his sheet, making my moan;I watchd the corpse, mysel alone;I watchd his body night and day;No living creature came that way.5I took the corpse then on my back,And whiles I gaed, and whiles I sat;I digd a grave, and laid him in,And hapd him wi the sod sae green.6But thinkna ye my heart was sairWhen I laid the mool on his yellow hair?O thinkna ye my heart was waeWhen I turnd about, away to gae?7Nae langer there I could remainSince that my lovely knight was slain;. . . . . . .. . . . . . .

1My love he built me a bonny bowr,An cled it a’ wi lily-flowr;A brawer bowr ye neer did seeThan my true-love he built to me.

My love he built me a bonny bowr,

An cled it a’ wi lily-flowr;

A brawer bowr ye neer did see

Than my true-love he built to me.

2There came a man by middle day,He spy’d his sport an went away,An brought the king that very night,Who brak my bowr, an slew my knight.

There came a man by middle day,

He spy’d his sport an went away,

An brought the king that very night,

Who brak my bowr, an slew my knight.

3He slew my knight, to me sae dear;He slew my knight, an poind his gear;My servants all for life did flee,An left me in extremity.

He slew my knight, to me sae dear;

He slew my knight, an poind his gear;

My servants all for life did flee,

An left me in extremity.

4I sewd his sheet, making my moan;I watchd the corpse, mysel alone;I watchd his body night and day;No living creature came that way.

I sewd his sheet, making my moan;

I watchd the corpse, mysel alone;

I watchd his body night and day;

No living creature came that way.

5I took the corpse then on my back,And whiles I gaed, and whiles I sat;I digd a grave, and laid him in,And hapd him wi the sod sae green.

I took the corpse then on my back,

And whiles I gaed, and whiles I sat;

I digd a grave, and laid him in,

And hapd him wi the sod sae green.

6But thinkna ye my heart was sairWhen I laid the mool on his yellow hair?O thinkna ye my heart was waeWhen I turnd about, away to gae?

But thinkna ye my heart was sair

When I laid the mool on his yellow hair?

O thinkna ye my heart was wae

When I turnd about, away to gae?

7Nae langer there I could remainSince that my lovely knight was slain;. . . . . . .. . . . . . .

Nae langer there I could remain

Since that my lovely knight was slain;

. . . . . . .

Daughter.

P. 457 a, 476 f.A. bis printed in the Ballad Society’s ed. of the Roxburghe Ballads, III, 449. It is in the Crawford collection, No 1142. There are four copies in the Douce collection: I, 11 b, 14, 21 b, IV, 33, two of Charles II.’s time, two of no account (Chappell).

458 b. The Danish ballad is now No 314 of Danmarks gamle Folkeviser, continued by Axel Olrik, V, II, 377, ‘Ebbe Galt—Hr. Tidemand.’ There are four Danish versions,A-D, some of the sixteenth century; a Färöe version in five copies, ‘Ebbin kall,’ Føroyjakvæði, as elaborated by Grundtvig and Bloch, No 123, D. g. F.,E; an Icelandic version, ‘Símonar kvæði,’ Íslenzk Fornkvæði, I, 224, No 26. DanishC, Vedel, III, No 17, is compounded ofBand a lost version which must have resembledA. The copy in Danske Viser, Abrahamson, No 63, is recompounded from C and one of the varieties ofD. Herr Tidemand is the offending knight inA,C; Ebbe Galt inB,Dand the FäröeE; Kóng Símon in the Icelandic version.Ahas fifteen stanzas,Bonly eleven; the story is extended to sixty-seven inD. A begins directly with a complaint on the part of the injured husband before the King’s Bench; the husband in this version is of a higher class than in the others,—Herr Peder, and not a peasant. The forcing is done at the woman’s house in A and the Icelandic version; inB-Ein a wood. In all, the ravisher is capitally punished.

Hr. Olrik is disposed to think ‘The Knight and the Shepherd’s Daughter’ a not very happy patching together of ‘Ebbe Galt,’ a lost ballad, and ‘Tærning-spillet,’ D. g. F., No 248, by a minstrel who may perhaps have had Chaucer’s story in mind. I am not prepared to go further than to admit that there is a gross inconsistency, even absurdity, in the English ballad; the shepherd’s daughter of the beginning could not possibly turn out a duke’s, an earl’s, or a king’s daughter in the conclusion.

‘Malfred og Sallemand,’ p. 458, note §, which has many verses in common with ‘Ebbe Galt,’ is now No 313 of Danmarks gamle Folkeviser, V, II, 367.

‘Earl Richmond,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 81, Abbotsford; in the handwriting of James Skene of Rubislaw.

1There was a shepherd’s daughterKept hogs upo yon hill,By cam her a gentle knight,And he would hae his will.2Whan his will o her he had,[His will] as he had taen,‘Kind sir, for yer courtesy,Will ye tell me yer name?’3‘Some they ca me Jock,’ he says,‘And some they ca me John;But whan ‘m in our king’s courtHitchcock is my name.’4The lady being well book-read,She spelt it oer again:‘Hitchcock in our king’s courtIs Earl Richard at hame.’5He pat his leg out-oer his steedAnd to the get he’s gane;She keltit up her green clothing,And fast, fast followed him.6‘Turn back, turn back, ye carl’s daughter,And dinna follow me;It sets na carl’s daughtersKings’ courts for to see.’7‘Perhaps I am a cerl’s daughter,Perhaps I am nane,But whan ye gat me in free forestYe might ha latten’s alane.’8Whan they cam to yon wan waterThat a’ man does call Clyde,He looket oer his left shuder,Says, Fair may, will ye ride?9‘I learnt it in my mother’s bowr,I wis I had learnt it better,Whan I cam to wan waterTo soom as does the otter.’10Or the knight was i the middle o the water,The lady she was oer;She took out a came o gold,To came down her yellow hair.11‘Whar gat ye that, ye cerl’s daughter?I pray ye tell to me:’‘I got it fra my mither,’ she says,‘To beguil sick chaps as thee.’12Whan they cam to our king’s court,He rade it round about,And he gade in at a shot-window,And left the lady without.13She gade to our king hersel,She fell low down upon her knee:‘There is a knight into your courtThis day has robbed me.’14‘Has he robbd ye o your goud?Or o yer well-won fee?Or o yer maidenhead,The flower o yer body?’15‘He has na robbd me o my goud,For I ha nane to gee;But he has robbd me o my maidenhead,The flower o my body.’16‘O wud ye ken the knight,’ he says,‘If that ye did him see?’‘I wud him ken by his well-fared faceAnd the blyth blink o his ee.’17‘An he be a married man,High hanged sall he be,And an he be a free man,Well wedded to him ye’s be,Altho it be my brother Richie,And I wiss it be no he.’18The king called on his merry young men,By ane, by twa, by three;Earl Richmond had used to be the first,But the hindmost was he.19By that ye mith ha well kentThat the guilty man was he;She took him by the milk-white hand,Says, This same ane is he.20There was a brand laid down to her,A brand but an a ring,Three times she minted to the brand,But she took up the ring;A’ that was in our king’s courtCountet her a wise woman.21‘I’ll gi ye five hundred pounds,To mak yer marriage we,An ye’l turn back, ye cerl’s daughter,And fash nae mere wi me.’22‘Gae keep yer five hundred poundsTo mak yer merriage we,For I’ll hae nathing but yerselThe king he promised me.’23‘I’ll gae ye one thousand poundsTo mak yer marriage we,An ye’l turn back, ye cerl’s daughter,And fash nae mere wi me.’24‘Gae keep yer one thousand pounds,To mak yer merriage we,For I’ll hae nathing but yerselThe king he promised me.’25He took her down to yon garden,And clothed her in the green;Whan she cam up again,Sh[e] was fairer than the queen.26They gad on to Mary kirk, and on to Mary quire,The nettles they grew by the dyke:‘O, an my mither wer her[e],So clean as she wud them pick!’27‘I wiss I had druken water,’ he says,‘Whan I drank the ale,That ony cerl’s daughterSud tell me sick a tale.’28‘Perhaps I am a cerl’s daughter,Perhaps I am nane;But whan ye gat me in free forestYe might ha latten’s alane.29‘Well mat this mill be,And well mat the gae!Mony a day they ha filled me pockO the white meal and the gray.’30‘I wiss I had druken water,’ he says,‘When I drank the ale,That ony cerl’s daughterSud tell me sick a tale.’31‘Perhaps I am a cerl’s daughter,Perhaps I am nane;But whan ye gat me in free forestYe might ha latten’s alane.32‘Tak awa yer siller spoons,Tak awa fra me,An gae me the gude horn spoons,It’s what I’m used tee.33‘O an my mukle dish wer here,And sine we hit were fu,I wud sup file I am saerd,And sine lay down me head and sleep wi ony sow.’34‘I wiss I had druken water,’ he says,‘Whan I drank the ale,That any cerl’s daughterSud tell me sick a tale.’35‘Perhaps I am a cerl’s daughter,Perhaps I am nane,But whan ye gat me in free forest,Ye might ha latten’s alane.’36He took his hat in oer his face,The tear blindit his ee;She threw back her yellow locks,And a light laughter leugh she.37‘Bot an ye be a beggar geet,As I trust well ye be,Whar gat ye their fine clothingYer body was covered we?’38‘My mother was an ill woman,And an ill woman was she;She gat them . . . .Fra sic chaps as thee.’39Whan bells were rung, and mess was sung,And aa man bound to bed,Earl Richard and the carl’s daughterIn a chamer were laid.40‘Lie yont, lie yont, ye carl’s daughter,Yer hot skin burns me;It sets na carl’s daughtersIn earls’ beds to be.’41‘Perhaps I am a carl’s daughter,Perhaps I am nane;But whan ye gat me in free forestYe might ha latten’s alane.’42Up it starts the Belly Blin,Just at their bed-feet.43‘I think it is a meet marrigeAtween the taen and the tither,The Earl of Hertford’s ae daughterAnd the Queen of England’s brither.’44‘An this be the Earl of Hertford’s ae daughter,As I trust well it be,Mony a gude horse ha I riddenFor the love o thee.’

1There was a shepherd’s daughterKept hogs upo yon hill,By cam her a gentle knight,And he would hae his will.

There was a shepherd’s daughter

Kept hogs upo yon hill,

By cam her a gentle knight,

And he would hae his will.

2Whan his will o her he had,[His will] as he had taen,‘Kind sir, for yer courtesy,Will ye tell me yer name?’

Whan his will o her he had,

[His will] as he had taen,

‘Kind sir, for yer courtesy,

Will ye tell me yer name?’

3‘Some they ca me Jock,’ he says,‘And some they ca me John;But whan ‘m in our king’s courtHitchcock is my name.’

‘Some they ca me Jock,’ he says,

‘And some they ca me John;

But whan ‘m in our king’s court

Hitchcock is my name.’

4The lady being well book-read,She spelt it oer again:‘Hitchcock in our king’s courtIs Earl Richard at hame.’

The lady being well book-read,

She spelt it oer again:

‘Hitchcock in our king’s court

Is Earl Richard at hame.’

5He pat his leg out-oer his steedAnd to the get he’s gane;She keltit up her green clothing,And fast, fast followed him.

He pat his leg out-oer his steed

And to the get he’s gane;

She keltit up her green clothing,

And fast, fast followed him.

6‘Turn back, turn back, ye carl’s daughter,And dinna follow me;It sets na carl’s daughtersKings’ courts for to see.’

‘Turn back, turn back, ye carl’s daughter,

And dinna follow me;

It sets na carl’s daughters

Kings’ courts for to see.’

7‘Perhaps I am a cerl’s daughter,Perhaps I am nane,But whan ye gat me in free forestYe might ha latten’s alane.’

‘Perhaps I am a cerl’s daughter,

Perhaps I am nane,

But whan ye gat me in free forest

Ye might ha latten’s alane.’

8Whan they cam to yon wan waterThat a’ man does call Clyde,He looket oer his left shuder,Says, Fair may, will ye ride?

Whan they cam to yon wan water

That a’ man does call Clyde,

He looket oer his left shuder,

Says, Fair may, will ye ride?

9‘I learnt it in my mother’s bowr,I wis I had learnt it better,Whan I cam to wan waterTo soom as does the otter.’

‘I learnt it in my mother’s bowr,

I wis I had learnt it better,

Whan I cam to wan water

To soom as does the otter.’

10Or the knight was i the middle o the water,The lady she was oer;She took out a came o gold,To came down her yellow hair.

Or the knight was i the middle o the water,

The lady she was oer;

She took out a came o gold,

To came down her yellow hair.

11‘Whar gat ye that, ye cerl’s daughter?I pray ye tell to me:’‘I got it fra my mither,’ she says,‘To beguil sick chaps as thee.’

‘Whar gat ye that, ye cerl’s daughter?

I pray ye tell to me:’

‘I got it fra my mither,’ she says,

‘To beguil sick chaps as thee.’

12Whan they cam to our king’s court,He rade it round about,And he gade in at a shot-window,And left the lady without.

Whan they cam to our king’s court,

He rade it round about,

And he gade in at a shot-window,

And left the lady without.

13She gade to our king hersel,She fell low down upon her knee:‘There is a knight into your courtThis day has robbed me.’

She gade to our king hersel,

She fell low down upon her knee:

‘There is a knight into your court

This day has robbed me.’

14‘Has he robbd ye o your goud?Or o yer well-won fee?Or o yer maidenhead,The flower o yer body?’

‘Has he robbd ye o your goud?

Or o yer well-won fee?

Or o yer maidenhead,

The flower o yer body?’

15‘He has na robbd me o my goud,For I ha nane to gee;But he has robbd me o my maidenhead,The flower o my body.’

‘He has na robbd me o my goud,

For I ha nane to gee;

But he has robbd me o my maidenhead,

The flower o my body.’

16‘O wud ye ken the knight,’ he says,‘If that ye did him see?’‘I wud him ken by his well-fared faceAnd the blyth blink o his ee.’

‘O wud ye ken the knight,’ he says,

‘If that ye did him see?’

‘I wud him ken by his well-fared face

And the blyth blink o his ee.’

17‘An he be a married man,High hanged sall he be,And an he be a free man,Well wedded to him ye’s be,Altho it be my brother Richie,And I wiss it be no he.’

‘An he be a married man,

High hanged sall he be,

And an he be a free man,

Well wedded to him ye’s be,

Altho it be my brother Richie,

And I wiss it be no he.’

18The king called on his merry young men,By ane, by twa, by three;Earl Richmond had used to be the first,But the hindmost was he.

The king called on his merry young men,

By ane, by twa, by three;

Earl Richmond had used to be the first,

But the hindmost was he.

19By that ye mith ha well kentThat the guilty man was he;She took him by the milk-white hand,Says, This same ane is he.

By that ye mith ha well kent

That the guilty man was he;

She took him by the milk-white hand,

Says, This same ane is he.

20There was a brand laid down to her,A brand but an a ring,Three times she minted to the brand,But she took up the ring;A’ that was in our king’s courtCountet her a wise woman.

There was a brand laid down to her,

A brand but an a ring,

Three times she minted to the brand,

But she took up the ring;

A’ that was in our king’s court

Countet her a wise woman.

21‘I’ll gi ye five hundred pounds,To mak yer marriage we,An ye’l turn back, ye cerl’s daughter,And fash nae mere wi me.’

‘I’ll gi ye five hundred pounds,

To mak yer marriage we,

An ye’l turn back, ye cerl’s daughter,

And fash nae mere wi me.’

22‘Gae keep yer five hundred poundsTo mak yer merriage we,For I’ll hae nathing but yerselThe king he promised me.’

‘Gae keep yer five hundred pounds

To mak yer merriage we,

For I’ll hae nathing but yersel

The king he promised me.’

23‘I’ll gae ye one thousand poundsTo mak yer marriage we,An ye’l turn back, ye cerl’s daughter,And fash nae mere wi me.’

‘I’ll gae ye one thousand pounds

To mak yer marriage we,

An ye’l turn back, ye cerl’s daughter,

And fash nae mere wi me.’

24‘Gae keep yer one thousand pounds,To mak yer merriage we,For I’ll hae nathing but yerselThe king he promised me.’

‘Gae keep yer one thousand pounds,

To mak yer merriage we,

For I’ll hae nathing but yersel

The king he promised me.’

25He took her down to yon garden,And clothed her in the green;Whan she cam up again,Sh[e] was fairer than the queen.

He took her down to yon garden,

And clothed her in the green;

Whan she cam up again,

Sh[e] was fairer than the queen.

26They gad on to Mary kirk, and on to Mary quire,The nettles they grew by the dyke:‘O, an my mither wer her[e],So clean as she wud them pick!’

They gad on to Mary kirk, and on to Mary quire,

The nettles they grew by the dyke:

‘O, an my mither wer her[e],

So clean as she wud them pick!’

27‘I wiss I had druken water,’ he says,‘Whan I drank the ale,That ony cerl’s daughterSud tell me sick a tale.’

‘I wiss I had druken water,’ he says,

‘Whan I drank the ale,

That ony cerl’s daughter

Sud tell me sick a tale.’

28‘Perhaps I am a cerl’s daughter,Perhaps I am nane;But whan ye gat me in free forestYe might ha latten’s alane.

‘Perhaps I am a cerl’s daughter,

Perhaps I am nane;

But whan ye gat me in free forest

Ye might ha latten’s alane.

29‘Well mat this mill be,And well mat the gae!Mony a day they ha filled me pockO the white meal and the gray.’

‘Well mat this mill be,

And well mat the gae!

Mony a day they ha filled me pock

O the white meal and the gray.’

30‘I wiss I had druken water,’ he says,‘When I drank the ale,That ony cerl’s daughterSud tell me sick a tale.’

‘I wiss I had druken water,’ he says,

‘When I drank the ale,

That ony cerl’s daughter

Sud tell me sick a tale.’

31‘Perhaps I am a cerl’s daughter,Perhaps I am nane;But whan ye gat me in free forestYe might ha latten’s alane.

‘Perhaps I am a cerl’s daughter,

Perhaps I am nane;

But whan ye gat me in free forest

Ye might ha latten’s alane.

32‘Tak awa yer siller spoons,Tak awa fra me,An gae me the gude horn spoons,It’s what I’m used tee.

‘Tak awa yer siller spoons,

Tak awa fra me,

An gae me the gude horn spoons,

It’s what I’m used tee.

33‘O an my mukle dish wer here,And sine we hit were fu,I wud sup file I am saerd,And sine lay down me head and sleep wi ony sow.’

‘O an my mukle dish wer here,

And sine we hit were fu,

I wud sup file I am saerd,

And sine lay down me head and sleep wi ony sow.’

34‘I wiss I had druken water,’ he says,‘Whan I drank the ale,That any cerl’s daughterSud tell me sick a tale.’

‘I wiss I had druken water,’ he says,

‘Whan I drank the ale,

That any cerl’s daughter

Sud tell me sick a tale.’

35‘Perhaps I am a cerl’s daughter,Perhaps I am nane,But whan ye gat me in free forest,Ye might ha latten’s alane.’

‘Perhaps I am a cerl’s daughter,

Perhaps I am nane,

But whan ye gat me in free forest,

Ye might ha latten’s alane.’

36He took his hat in oer his face,The tear blindit his ee;She threw back her yellow locks,And a light laughter leugh she.

He took his hat in oer his face,

The tear blindit his ee;

She threw back her yellow locks,

And a light laughter leugh she.

37‘Bot an ye be a beggar geet,As I trust well ye be,Whar gat ye their fine clothingYer body was covered we?’

‘Bot an ye be a beggar geet,

As I trust well ye be,

Whar gat ye their fine clothing

Yer body was covered we?’

38‘My mother was an ill woman,And an ill woman was she;She gat them . . . .Fra sic chaps as thee.’

‘My mother was an ill woman,

And an ill woman was she;

She gat them . . . .

Fra sic chaps as thee.’

39Whan bells were rung, and mess was sung,And aa man bound to bed,Earl Richard and the carl’s daughterIn a chamer were laid.

Whan bells were rung, and mess was sung,

And aa man bound to bed,

Earl Richard and the carl’s daughter

In a chamer were laid.

40‘Lie yont, lie yont, ye carl’s daughter,Yer hot skin burns me;It sets na carl’s daughtersIn earls’ beds to be.’

‘Lie yont, lie yont, ye carl’s daughter,

Yer hot skin burns me;

It sets na carl’s daughters

In earls’ beds to be.’

41‘Perhaps I am a carl’s daughter,Perhaps I am nane;But whan ye gat me in free forestYe might ha latten’s alane.’

‘Perhaps I am a carl’s daughter,

Perhaps I am nane;

But whan ye gat me in free forest

Ye might ha latten’s alane.’

42Up it starts the Belly Blin,Just at their bed-feet.

Up it starts the Belly Blin,

Just at their bed-feet.

43‘I think it is a meet marrigeAtween the taen and the tither,The Earl of Hertford’s ae daughterAnd the Queen of England’s brither.’

‘I think it is a meet marrige

Atween the taen and the tither,

The Earl of Hertford’s ae daughter

And the Queen of England’s brither.’

44‘An this be the Earl of Hertford’s ae daughter,As I trust well it be,Mony a gude horse ha I riddenFor the love o thee.’

‘An this be the Earl of Hertford’s ae daughter,

As I trust well it be,

Mony a gude horse ha I ridden

For the love o thee.’

1–34.Written as far as 36 in long lines, two to a stanza: there is no division of stanzas..

23, 24, 28, 30, 31, 34, 35, 41,are not fully written out.

292.Possiblymat she gae,but observe the plural in the next line.

112. The Baffled Knight.

P. 480 a. There is another variety ofDin The Calleen Fuine, to which are added The Shepherd’s Boy, etc. Limerick, Printed by W. Goggin, corner of Bridge-Street. British Museum, 11621. e. 14 (16). Dated 1810? in the catalogue.

This begins:

There was a shepherd’s boy,He kept sheep upon a hill,And he went out upon a morningTo see what he could kill.It’s blow away the morning dew,It’s blow, you winds, hi ho!You stole away my morning blush,And blow a little, blow.

There was a shepherd’s boy,

He kept sheep upon a hill,

And he went out upon a morning

To see what he could kill.

It’s blow away the morning dew,

It’s blow, you winds, hi ho!

You stole away my morning blush,

And blow a little, blow.

481 a. ‘Lou Cabalier discret’ (‘Je vous passerai le bois’), Daymard, Vieux Chants p. rec. en Quercy, p. 126.

481 b, III, 518 a. Dans le bois elle s’est mise à pleurer: Revue des Traditions Populaires, IV, 514; ‘J’ai fini ma journée,’ Gothier, Recueil de Crâmignons, p. 5, ‘Youp ta deritou la la,’ Terry et Chaumont, Recueil d’Airs de Crâmignons, etc., p. 66, No 34; ‘Après ma journée faite,’ Meyrac, Traditions, etc., des Ardennes, pp. 277, 279.

Varieties: ‘Lou Pastour brégountsous (trop discret),’ Daymard, p. 124; ‘A la ronde, mesdames,’ Terry et Chaumont, p. 22, No 13; ‘La belle et l’ermite,’ ‘La jeune couturière,’ La Tradition, IV, 346, 348, Chansons populaires de la Picardie (half-popular).

482 a. ABretonsong gives the essence of the story in seven couplets:Quellien, Chansons et Danses des Bretons, p. 156.

Danish.‘Den dyre Kaabe,’ Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 142, No 38.

482 b, third paragraph. The incident of the boots in Hazlitt, Jest-Books, II, 241 (Tarlton’s Jests, 1611, but printed before 1600).

P. 494, III, 518. See David MacRitchie, The Finn-Men of Britain, in The Archæological Review, IV, 1–26, 107–129, 190 ff., and Alfred Nutt, p. 232.

A husband who is a man by day, but at night a seal: Curtin, Myths and Folk-Lore of Ireland, p. 51. (G. L. K.)

P. 1. There is a ballad of ‘Bertram, the Bauld Archer’ in Pitcairn’s MSS, III, 51; printed in Maidment’s Scotish Ballads and Songs, 1859, p. 46. Pitcairn derived it from Mrs McCorquodale, Stirling, a farmer’s wife, who remembered it “to have been sung by her grandmother, a woman above eighty years old, who stated that she had it from an old woman, her aunt.” The reciter herself was above sixty-five, and had “first heard it when a little girl.” Nevertheless, Bertram is fustian, of a sort all too familiar in the last century. The story, excepting perhaps the first stanza, is put into the mouth of Bertram’s mistress,à laGilderoy. The bauld archer has gone to the forest for to mak a robberie. The king has made proclamation that he will give five hunder merk for Bertram’s life. John o Shoumacnair (Stronmaknair, Maidment) proposes to his billies to kill Bertram and get the money. They busk themselves in hodden gray, ‘like to friers o low degree,’ present themselves to Bertram and ask a boon of him, which Bertram grants without inquiry. While they are parleying, Shoumacnair drives his dirk into Bertram’s back. But, though he swirls wi the straik, Bertram draws his awsome bran, kills ane, wounds twa, and then his stalwart, gallant soul takes its flight to heaven.

2b. Braid. “This version [‘Johnie of Braidisbank,’ I] was taken down by Motherwell and me from the recitation of Mr James Knox, land-surveyor at Tipperlinne, near Edinburgh, in the month of May, 1824, when we met him in the good town of Paisley. At 17 a tradition is mentioned which assigns Braid to have been the scene of this woeful hunting. Mr Knox is the authority for this tradition. Braid is in the neighborhood of Tipperlinne.” Note by Mr P. A. Ramsay in a copy of the Minstrelsy which had belonged to Motherwell. (W. Macmath.)

Wolves in Scotland. “It is usually said that the species was extirpated about 1680 by Sir Ewen Cameron of Lochiel, but the tradition to that effect appears to be true only of Sir Ewen’s own district of western Invernessshire.” Theverylast wolf may have been killed in 1743. R. Chambers, Domestic Annals of Scotland, III, 690.

7.Fwas made up from several copies, one of which was the following, ‘John o Cockielaw,’ in Scott’s youthful handwriting, inserted, as No 3, at the beginning of a MS. volume, in small folio, containing a number of prose pieces, and beginning with excerpts from Law’s Memorials. Abbotsford Library, L. 2.

1Johnny got up in a May morning,Calld for water to wash his hands:‘Gar louse to me my good gray dogsThat are tied with iron bands.’2When Johnny’s mother got word o that,For grief she has lain down:‘O Johnny, for my benison,I red you bide at hame!’3He’s putten on his black velvet,Likewise his London brown,And he’s awa to Durrisdeer,To hunt the dun deer down.4Johnny shot, and the dun deer lap,And he wounded her on the side;Between the water and the brae,There he laid her pride.5He’s taken out the liver o her,And likewise sae the lungs,And he has made a’ his dogs to feastAs they had been earl’s sons.6They eat sae much o the venison,And drank sae much of the blood,That they a’ then lay down and slept,And slept as they had been dead.7And bye there cam a silly ald man,And an ill death might he die!And he’s awa to the seven forresters,As fast as he can drie.8‘As I cam down by Merriemas,And down aboon the scroggs,The bonniest boy that ever I sawLay sleeping amang his doggs.9‘The shirt that was upon his backWas of the holland fine,The cravat that was about his neckWas of the cambrick lawn.10‘The coat that was upon his backWas of the London brown,The doublet . . . .Was of the Lincome twine.’11Out and spak the first forrester,That was a forrester our them a’;If this be John o Cockielaw,Nae nearer him we’ll draw.12Then out and spak the sixth,That was . forrester amang them a’;If this is John o Cockielaw,Nearer to him we’ll draw.13Johnny shot six of the forresters,And wounded the seventh, we say,And set him on a milk-white steedTo carry tidings away.

1Johnny got up in a May morning,Calld for water to wash his hands:‘Gar louse to me my good gray dogsThat are tied with iron bands.’

Johnny got up in a May morning,

Calld for water to wash his hands:

‘Gar louse to me my good gray dogs

That are tied with iron bands.’

2When Johnny’s mother got word o that,For grief she has lain down:‘O Johnny, for my benison,I red you bide at hame!’

When Johnny’s mother got word o that,

For grief she has lain down:

‘O Johnny, for my benison,

I red you bide at hame!’

3He’s putten on his black velvet,Likewise his London brown,And he’s awa to Durrisdeer,To hunt the dun deer down.

He’s putten on his black velvet,

Likewise his London brown,

And he’s awa to Durrisdeer,

To hunt the dun deer down.

4Johnny shot, and the dun deer lap,And he wounded her on the side;Between the water and the brae,There he laid her pride.

Johnny shot, and the dun deer lap,

And he wounded her on the side;

Between the water and the brae,

There he laid her pride.

5He’s taken out the liver o her,And likewise sae the lungs,And he has made a’ his dogs to feastAs they had been earl’s sons.

He’s taken out the liver o her,

And likewise sae the lungs,

And he has made a’ his dogs to feast

As they had been earl’s sons.

6They eat sae much o the venison,And drank sae much of the blood,That they a’ then lay down and slept,And slept as they had been dead.

They eat sae much o the venison,

And drank sae much of the blood,

That they a’ then lay down and slept,

And slept as they had been dead.

7And bye there cam a silly ald man,And an ill death might he die!And he’s awa to the seven forresters,As fast as he can drie.

And bye there cam a silly ald man,

And an ill death might he die!

And he’s awa to the seven forresters,

As fast as he can drie.

8‘As I cam down by Merriemas,And down aboon the scroggs,The bonniest boy that ever I sawLay sleeping amang his doggs.

‘As I cam down by Merriemas,

And down aboon the scroggs,

The bonniest boy that ever I saw

Lay sleeping amang his doggs.

9‘The shirt that was upon his backWas of the holland fine,The cravat that was about his neckWas of the cambrick lawn.

‘The shirt that was upon his back

Was of the holland fine,

The cravat that was about his neck

Was of the cambrick lawn.

10‘The coat that was upon his backWas of the London brown,The doublet . . . .Was of the Lincome twine.’

‘The coat that was upon his back

Was of the London brown,

The doublet . . . .

Was of the Lincome twine.’

11Out and spak the first forrester,That was a forrester our them a’;If this be John o Cockielaw,Nae nearer him we’ll draw.

Out and spak the first forrester,

That was a forrester our them a’;

If this be John o Cockielaw,

Nae nearer him we’ll draw.

12Then out and spak the sixth,That was . forrester amang them a’;If this is John o Cockielaw,Nearer to him we’ll draw.

Then out and spak the sixth,

That was . forrester amang them a’;

If this is John o Cockielaw,

Nearer to him we’ll draw.

13Johnny shot six of the forresters,And wounded the seventh, we say,And set him on a milk-white steedTo carry tidings away.

Johnny shot six of the forresters,

And wounded the seventh, we say,

And set him on a milk-white steed

To carry tidings away.

44. Wi He there he (hewritten in place of another word). Wi Hestruck out.

63.Originally, That they lay a’ them down.

72.Originally, And a silly ald man was he.

112. was hed. hedstruck out.

P. 18. The Tell story in The Braemar Highlands, by Elizabeth Taylor, Edinburgh, 1869, pp. 99–103, is a transparent plagiarism, as indeed the author of the book seems to be aware.

P. 40 ff. Thomas Robinhood is one of six witnesses to a grant in the 4th of Richard II. (June 22, 1380–June 21, 1381). See Historical MSS Commission, Fifth Report, Appendix, p. 511, col. 2. The pronunciation, Robinhood (p. 41 a, note †), is clearly seen in the jingle quoted by Nash, Strange Newes, 1593, Works, ed. Grosart, II, 230: “Ah, neighbourhood, neighbourhood, Dead and buried art thou with Robinhood.”

Among the disbursements of John Lord Howard, afterwards Duke of Norfolk, occurs the following: “And the same day, my Lord paide to Robard Hoode for viij. shafftys xvj. d.” (This is Friday, Sept. 26, 1483.) Household Books of John Duke of Norfolk and Thomas Earl of Surrey, temp. 1481–1490, ed. by J. P. Collier, 1844, Roxburghe Club, p. 464. Collier, p. 525, remarks that “the coincidence that the duke bought them of a person of the name of Robin Hood is singular.”

The Crosscombe Church-Wardens’ Accounts (in Church-Wardens’ Accounts of Croscombe, Pilton, Yatton, etc., ranging from 1349 to 1560, ed. by Right Rev. Bishop Hobhouse, Somerset Record Soc. Publications, IV, 1890):

“Comes Thomas Blower and John Hille, and presents in xls.of Roben Hod’s recones.” 14767(accounts for 147⅚), p. 4.

“Comys Robin Hode and presents in xxxiijs.ivd.” 148⅔ (for 148½), p. 10.

“Ric. Willes was Roben Hode, and presents in for yere past xxiijs.” 148¾ (for 148⅔), p. 11.

“Comys Robyn Hode, Wyllyam Wyndylsor, and presents in for the yere paste iijl.vjs.viijd.ob.” 14867(for 148⅚), p. 14.

“Robyn Hode presents in xlvjs.viij.d.” 149⅘ (for 149¾), p. 20.

And so of later years.

A pasture called Robynhode Closse is mentioned in the Chamberlains’ Accounts of the town of Nottingham in 1485, 1486, and 1500: Records of the Borough of Nottingham, III, 64, 230, 254. A Robynhode Well near the same town is mentioned in a presentment at the sessions of July 20, 1500 (III, 74), and again in1548 as Robyn’s Wood Well (IV, 441). Robin Hood’s Acre is mentioned in 162⅘ (IV, 441). Robbin-hoodes Wele is mentioned in Jack of Dover, his Quest of Inquirie, 1604, Hazlitt, Jest-Books, II, 315. (The above by G. L. K.)

49 b. Italian robber-songs. “Sulle piazze romane e napoletane ognuno ha potuto sentire ripetere i canti epici che celebrano le imprese di famosi banditi o prepotenti, Meo Pataca, Mastrilli, Frà Diavolo:” Cantù, Documenti alla Storia universale (1858), V, 891.

53 a. Note on 243–47. The same incident in The Jests of Scogin, Hazlitt’s Jest-Books, II, 151. (G. L. K.)

53 f., 519 a. See also the traditional story how Bishop Forbes, of Corse, lent his brother a thousand marks on the security of God Almighty, in The Scotsman’s Library, by James Mitchell, 1825, p. 576. (W. Macmath.)

P. 108 a. Compare the Great-Russian bylinas about Il’ja of Murom and his son (daughter). Il’ja is captain of the march-keepers, Dobrynja second in command. No man, on foot or on horse, no bird or beast, undertakes to pass. But one day a young hero crosses, neither greeting nor paying toll. One of the guards, commonly Dobrynja, is sent after him, but comes back in a fright. Il’ja takes the matter in hand, has a fight with the young man, is worsted at first, but afterwards gets the better of him. Wollner, Volksepik der Grossrussen, p. 115. (W. W.)

P. 186. Stanzas 19, 20. The boon of being allowed to fight at odds, rather than be judicially executed, is of very common occurrence in South-Slavic songs, generally with the nuance that the hero asks to have the worst horse and the worst weapon. A well-known instance is the Servian song of Jurišić Janko, Karadžić, II, 319, No 52, and the older Croat song of Svilojević (treating the same matter), Bogišić, p. 120 No 46. (W. W.)

P. 241. For the subject in general, and particularly ‘el santo niño de la Guardia,’ see further H. C. Lea, in The English Historical Review, IV, 229, 1889.

242 b, fourth paragraph. See J. Loeb, Un mémoire de Laurent Ganganelli sur la calomnie du meurtre rituel, in Revue des Etudes juives, XVIII, 179 ff., 1889. (G. L. K.) For the other side: Il sangue cristiano nei riti ebraici della moderna sinagoga. Versione dal greco del Professore N. F. S. Prato, 1883. Henri Desportes, Le mystère du sang chez les Juifs de tous les temps. Paris, 1889.

246 b.E5. The following stanza was inserted by Motherwell as a variation in a copy of his Minstrelsy afterwards acquired by Mr P. A. Ramsay:

She went down to the Jew’s garden,Where the grass grows lang and green,She pulled an apple aff the tree,Wi a red cheek and a green,She hung it on a gouden chain,To wile that bonnie babe in.

She went down to the Jew’s garden,

Where the grass grows lang and green,

She pulled an apple aff the tree,

Wi a red cheek and a green,

She hung it on a gouden chain,

To wile that bonnie babe in.

249 ff. A version resemblingH-M,Ohas been kindly communicated by Mr P. Z. Round.

Written down April, 1891, by Mrs W. H. Gill, of Sidcup, Kent, as recited to her in childhood by a maid-servant in London.

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