VOL. III.

P. 40 b. References to Robin Hood in the 15th century.

And many men speken of Robyn HoodAnd shotte nevere in his bowe.

And many men speken of Robyn Hood

And shotte nevere in his bowe.

Reply of Friar Dow Topias, in Wright’s Poetical Poems and Songs relating to English History, II, 59, dated by Wright 1401, which may be rather too early. The proverbial phrase shows that Robin Hood had long been familiar to the English People.

P. 103 a, note *. ‘Give me my God’ is not perhaps too bold a suggestion. We have ‘yeve me my savyour’ in the Romance of the Rose, Morris, v. 6436, translating ‘le cors nostre seigneur.’

P. 155. The following copy, entitled ‘Robin Hood and the Proud Pedlar,’ is from a garland in a collection of folio sheet-ballads mostly dated 1775, in the British Museum, 1346. m. 7(9). The Museum catalogue assigns the ballads to Edinburgh. I owe my knowledge of this piece to Mr P. Z. Round.

1There was a proud pedlar, a fine pedlar,a proud pedlar he seemd to be,And he’s taen his pack upon his back,and went linking over the lee.2Where he met two troublesome men,troublesome men they seemd to be,The one of them was Robin Hood,the other Little John so free.3‘O what is that into thy pack?thou pedlar proud now tell to me;’‘There’s seven suits of good green silk,and bow-strings either two or three.’4‘If there’s seven suits of good green silk,and silken bow-strings two or three,Then be my sooth,’ says Little John,‘there’s some of them must fall to me.’5Then he’s taen his pack off his back,and laid it low down by his knee:‘Where’s the man fit to drive me frae’t?then pack and all to him I’ll gie.’6Then Little John pulld out his sword,the pedler he pulld out his brand,They swapped swords till they did sweat;‘O pedlar fine, now hold thy hand!’7‘O fy! O fy!’ said Robin Hood,‘O fy! O fy! that must not be,For I’ve seen a man in greater straitthan to pay him and pedlars three.’8‘Then try him, try him, master,’ he said,‘O try him now, master,’ said he,‘For by me sooth,’ said Little John,‘master, ’tis neither you nor me.’9Bold Robin pulld out his sword,the pedlar he pulld out his brand,They swapped swords till they did sweat;‘O pedlar fine, now hold thy hand!10‘O what’s thy name,’ says Robin Hood,‘now, pedlar fine, come tell to me;’‘No, be my sooth, that will I not,till I know what your names may be.’11‘The one of us[’s] calld Robin Hood,the other Little John so free,And now it lies into thy breastwhether thou’lt tell thy name to me.’12‘I’m Gamwell gay, of good green wood,my fame is far beyond the sea;For killing a man in my father’s landmy native land I was forcd to flee.’13‘If thou be Gamwell of the green wood,thy fame is far beyond the sea;And be my sooth,’ said Little John,‘my sister’s son thou needs must be.14‘But what was that was on thy back?O, cousin Gamwell, tell unto me;’‘It is seven sarks and three gravats,is all the kitt that I carry.’15They smoothd their words and sheathd their swords,and kissd and clapt most tenderly;To a tavern then they went to dine,and drank about most heartily.

1There was a proud pedlar, a fine pedlar,a proud pedlar he seemd to be,And he’s taen his pack upon his back,and went linking over the lee.

There was a proud pedlar, a fine pedlar,

a proud pedlar he seemd to be,

And he’s taen his pack upon his back,

and went linking over the lee.

2Where he met two troublesome men,troublesome men they seemd to be,The one of them was Robin Hood,the other Little John so free.

Where he met two troublesome men,

troublesome men they seemd to be,

The one of them was Robin Hood,

the other Little John so free.

3‘O what is that into thy pack?thou pedlar proud now tell to me;’‘There’s seven suits of good green silk,and bow-strings either two or three.’

‘O what is that into thy pack?

thou pedlar proud now tell to me;’

‘There’s seven suits of good green silk,

and bow-strings either two or three.’

4‘If there’s seven suits of good green silk,and silken bow-strings two or three,Then be my sooth,’ says Little John,‘there’s some of them must fall to me.’

‘If there’s seven suits of good green silk,

and silken bow-strings two or three,

Then be my sooth,’ says Little John,

‘there’s some of them must fall to me.’

5Then he’s taen his pack off his back,and laid it low down by his knee:‘Where’s the man fit to drive me frae’t?then pack and all to him I’ll gie.’

Then he’s taen his pack off his back,

and laid it low down by his knee:

‘Where’s the man fit to drive me frae’t?

then pack and all to him I’ll gie.’

6Then Little John pulld out his sword,the pedler he pulld out his brand,They swapped swords till they did sweat;‘O pedlar fine, now hold thy hand!’

Then Little John pulld out his sword,

the pedler he pulld out his brand,

They swapped swords till they did sweat;

‘O pedlar fine, now hold thy hand!’

7‘O fy! O fy!’ said Robin Hood,‘O fy! O fy! that must not be,For I’ve seen a man in greater straitthan to pay him and pedlars three.’

‘O fy! O fy!’ said Robin Hood,

‘O fy! O fy! that must not be,

For I’ve seen a man in greater strait

than to pay him and pedlars three.’

8‘Then try him, try him, master,’ he said,‘O try him now, master,’ said he,‘For by me sooth,’ said Little John,‘master, ’tis neither you nor me.’

‘Then try him, try him, master,’ he said,

‘O try him now, master,’ said he,

‘For by me sooth,’ said Little John,

‘master, ’tis neither you nor me.’

9Bold Robin pulld out his sword,the pedlar he pulld out his brand,They swapped swords till they did sweat;‘O pedlar fine, now hold thy hand!

Bold Robin pulld out his sword,

the pedlar he pulld out his brand,

They swapped swords till they did sweat;

‘O pedlar fine, now hold thy hand!

10‘O what’s thy name,’ says Robin Hood,‘now, pedlar fine, come tell to me;’‘No, be my sooth, that will I not,till I know what your names may be.’

‘O what’s thy name,’ says Robin Hood,

‘now, pedlar fine, come tell to me;’

‘No, be my sooth, that will I not,

till I know what your names may be.’

11‘The one of us[’s] calld Robin Hood,the other Little John so free,And now it lies into thy breastwhether thou’lt tell thy name to me.’

‘The one of us[’s] calld Robin Hood,

the other Little John so free,

And now it lies into thy breast

whether thou’lt tell thy name to me.’

12‘I’m Gamwell gay, of good green wood,my fame is far beyond the sea;For killing a man in my father’s landmy native land I was forcd to flee.’

‘I’m Gamwell gay, of good green wood,

my fame is far beyond the sea;

For killing a man in my father’s land

my native land I was forcd to flee.’

13‘If thou be Gamwell of the green wood,thy fame is far beyond the sea;And be my sooth,’ said Little John,‘my sister’s son thou needs must be.

‘If thou be Gamwell of the green wood,

thy fame is far beyond the sea;

And be my sooth,’ said Little John,

‘my sister’s son thou needs must be.

14‘But what was that was on thy back?O, cousin Gamwell, tell unto me;’‘It is seven sarks and three gravats,is all the kitt that I carry.’

‘But what was that was on thy back?

O, cousin Gamwell, tell unto me;’

‘It is seven sarks and three gravats,

is all the kitt that I carry.’

15They smoothd their words and sheathd their swords,and kissd and clapt most tenderly;To a tavern then they went to dine,and drank about most heartily.

They smoothd their words and sheathd their swords,

and kissd and clapt most tenderly;

To a tavern then they went to dine,

and drank about most heartily.

Captain Delany’s Garland, containing five new songs, ... II, Robin Hood and the Proud Pedlar.

62, 64, 94. padler.

P. 223. Letter shot to its address on an arrow. Afanasief, Russian Popular Tales, V, 183.

P. 233, IV, 497.

‘Little Sir William,’ Miss M. H. Mason’s Nursery Rhymes and Country Songs, p. 46.

1Easter Day was a holiday,Of all days in the year,And all the little schoolfellows went out to play,Bat Sir William was not there.2Mamma went to the Jew’s wife’s house,And knockëd at the ring,Saying, Little Sir William, if you are there,Oh, let your mother in!3The Jew’s wife opened the door and said,He is not here to-day;He is with the little schoolfellows out on the green,Playing some pretty play.4Mamma went to the Boyne water,That is so wide and deep,Saying, Little Sir William, if you are there,Oh, pity your mother’s weep!5‘How can I pity your weep, mother,And I so long in pain?For the little penknife sticks close in my heart,And the Jew’s wife has me slain.6‘Go home, go home, my mother dear,And prepare my winding sheet,For tomorrow morning before eight o’clockYou with my body shall meet.7‘And lay my Prayer-Book at my head,And my grammar at my feet,That all the little schoolfellows as they pass byMay read them for my sake.’

1Easter Day was a holiday,Of all days in the year,And all the little schoolfellows went out to play,Bat Sir William was not there.

Easter Day was a holiday,

Of all days in the year,

And all the little schoolfellows went out to play,

Bat Sir William was not there.

2Mamma went to the Jew’s wife’s house,And knockëd at the ring,Saying, Little Sir William, if you are there,Oh, let your mother in!

Mamma went to the Jew’s wife’s house,

And knockëd at the ring,

Saying, Little Sir William, if you are there,

Oh, let your mother in!

3The Jew’s wife opened the door and said,He is not here to-day;He is with the little schoolfellows out on the green,Playing some pretty play.

The Jew’s wife opened the door and said,

He is not here to-day;

He is with the little schoolfellows out on the green,

Playing some pretty play.

4Mamma went to the Boyne water,That is so wide and deep,Saying, Little Sir William, if you are there,Oh, pity your mother’s weep!

Mamma went to the Boyne water,

That is so wide and deep,

Saying, Little Sir William, if you are there,

Oh, pity your mother’s weep!

5‘How can I pity your weep, mother,And I so long in pain?For the little penknife sticks close in my heart,And the Jew’s wife has me slain.

‘How can I pity your weep, mother,

And I so long in pain?

For the little penknife sticks close in my heart,

And the Jew’s wife has me slain.

6‘Go home, go home, my mother dear,And prepare my winding sheet,For tomorrow morning before eight o’clockYou with my body shall meet.

‘Go home, go home, my mother dear,

And prepare my winding sheet,

For tomorrow morning before eight o’clock

You with my body shall meet.

7‘And lay my Prayer-Book at my head,And my grammar at my feet,That all the little schoolfellows as they pass byMay read them for my sake.’

‘And lay my Prayer-Book at my head,

And my grammar at my feet,

That all the little schoolfellows as they pass by

May read them for my sake.’

Notes and Queries, Eighth Series, II, 43, July, 1842. ‘The Jew’s Daughter,’ communicated by Mr C. W. Penny, as repeated to his brother, the vicar of Stixwould, Lincolnshire, by one of the oldest women in the parish. “A song sung by his nurse to a Lincolnshire gentleman, now over sixty years of age.”

1You toss your ball so high,You toss your ball so low,You toss your ball into the Jew’s garden,Where the pretty flowers grow.2Out came one of the Jew’s daughters,Dressed all in green:‘Come hither, pretty little dear,And fetch your ball again.’3She showed him a rosy-cheeked apple,She showed him a gay gold ring,She showed him a cherry as red as blood,And that enticed him in.4She set him in a golden chair,She gave him kisses sweet,She threw him down a darksome well,More than fifty feet deep.

1You toss your ball so high,You toss your ball so low,You toss your ball into the Jew’s garden,Where the pretty flowers grow.

You toss your ball so high,

You toss your ball so low,

You toss your ball into the Jew’s garden,

Where the pretty flowers grow.

2Out came one of the Jew’s daughters,Dressed all in green:‘Come hither, pretty little dear,And fetch your ball again.’

Out came one of the Jew’s daughters,

Dressed all in green:

‘Come hither, pretty little dear,

And fetch your ball again.’

3She showed him a rosy-cheeked apple,She showed him a gay gold ring,She showed him a cherry as red as blood,And that enticed him in.

She showed him a rosy-cheeked apple,

She showed him a gay gold ring,

She showed him a cherry as red as blood,

And that enticed him in.

4She set him in a golden chair,She gave him kisses sweet,She threw him down a darksome well,More than fifty feet deep.

She set him in a golden chair,

She gave him kisses sweet,

She threw him down a darksome well,

More than fifty feet deep.

P. 259.B.Here given as it stands in “The Old Lady’s Collection,” No 6.

1Our quin’s seek, an very seek,She’s seek an leak to dee,An she has sent for the friears of France,To speak we her spedely.2‘Ye’ll pit on a frier’s robe,An I’ll put one anether,An we’ll goo to madam the Quin,Leak frayers bath together.’3‘God forbid,’ sayes Earl Marchell,‘That ever the leak sud be,That I sud begule madam the Quin;I wad be hangëd hei.’4. . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . .The King suar by the croun an the septer rounEearl Marchell sudne dei.5The king pat on a frier’s rob,Eearl Marchell on anether,The’r on to the Quin,Like frayers bath together.6‘Gin ye be the frayers of France,’ she says,‘As I trust wiell ye be,Bat an ye be ony eather menYe sall be hangëd he.’7The king he turned him roun,An by his troth suare he,‘We ha na sung masseSan we came fra the sea.’8‘The first sin ever I did,An a very grat sin it was tee,I gaa my medenhead to Earl Marchell,Below a green-wood tree.’9‘That was a sin, an a very grate sin,Bat pardoned it man be;’‘We menement,’ said Earl Marchell,Bat a heavë, heavë heart had he.10‘The nist sin ever I did,An a grat sin it was tee,I pusned Lady Rosomon,An the King’s darling was she.’11‘That was a sin, an a grat sin,Bat pardoned it may be;’‘We menement,’ said King Henry,Bat a heavë, heavë heart had he.12‘The nist sin I ever did,An a grat sin it was tee,I keepet pusin in my bosom seven yearTo pusin him King Henre.’13‘That was a sin, an a grat sin,Bat pardoned it may be;’‘We menement,’ sa[i]d King Henrie,Bat a heavë, heavë heart had he.14‘O see ye na yon bony boys,As they play att the baa?An see ye na Earl Merchal’s son?I lee him best of all.15‘But see ye na King Henry’s son?He is headed leak a bull an baked like a bore,I leak him warst of a’:’‘An, by my soth,’ says him King Henry,‘I leak him best of the twa.’16The king he turned him roun,Pat on the coat of goud,The Quin turned her roun,The king to behald.17‘. . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . .Gin I had na sworn by the croun an the septer roun,Eearl Marchell sud ben gared dee.’

1Our quin’s seek, an very seek,She’s seek an leak to dee,An she has sent for the friears of France,To speak we her spedely.

Our quin’s seek, an very seek,

She’s seek an leak to dee,

An she has sent for the friears of France,

To speak we her spedely.

2‘Ye’ll pit on a frier’s robe,An I’ll put one anether,An we’ll goo to madam the Quin,Leak frayers bath together.’

‘Ye’ll pit on a frier’s robe,

An I’ll put one anether,

An we’ll goo to madam the Quin,

Leak frayers bath together.’

3‘God forbid,’ sayes Earl Marchell,‘That ever the leak sud be,That I sud begule madam the Quin;I wad be hangëd hei.’

‘God forbid,’ sayes Earl Marchell,

‘That ever the leak sud be,

That I sud begule madam the Quin;

I wad be hangëd hei.’

4. . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . .The King suar by the croun an the septer rounEearl Marchell sudne dei.

. . . . . . . . .

The King suar by the croun an the septer roun

Eearl Marchell sudne dei.

5The king pat on a frier’s rob,Eearl Marchell on anether,The’r on to the Quin,Like frayers bath together.

The king pat on a frier’s rob,

Eearl Marchell on anether,

The’r on to the Quin,

Like frayers bath together.

6‘Gin ye be the frayers of France,’ she says,‘As I trust wiell ye be,Bat an ye be ony eather menYe sall be hangëd he.’

‘Gin ye be the frayers of France,’ she says,

‘As I trust wiell ye be,

Bat an ye be ony eather men

Ye sall be hangëd he.’

7The king he turned him roun,An by his troth suare he,‘We ha na sung masseSan we came fra the sea.’

The king he turned him roun,

An by his troth suare he,

‘We ha na sung masse

San we came fra the sea.’

8‘The first sin ever I did,An a very grat sin it was tee,I gaa my medenhead to Earl Marchell,Below a green-wood tree.’

‘The first sin ever I did,

An a very grat sin it was tee,

I gaa my medenhead to Earl Marchell,

Below a green-wood tree.’

9‘That was a sin, an a very grate sin,Bat pardoned it man be;’‘We menement,’ said Earl Marchell,Bat a heavë, heavë heart had he.

‘That was a sin, an a very grate sin,

Bat pardoned it man be;’

‘We menement,’ said Earl Marchell,

Bat a heavë, heavë heart had he.

10‘The nist sin ever I did,An a grat sin it was tee,I pusned Lady Rosomon,An the King’s darling was she.’

‘The nist sin ever I did,

An a grat sin it was tee,

I pusned Lady Rosomon,

An the King’s darling was she.’

11‘That was a sin, an a grat sin,Bat pardoned it may be;’‘We menement,’ said King Henry,Bat a heavë, heavë heart had he.

‘That was a sin, an a grat sin,

Bat pardoned it may be;’

‘We menement,’ said King Henry,

Bat a heavë, heavë heart had he.

12‘The nist sin I ever did,An a grat sin it was tee,I keepet pusin in my bosom seven yearTo pusin him King Henre.’

‘The nist sin I ever did,

An a grat sin it was tee,

I keepet pusin in my bosom seven year

To pusin him King Henre.’

13‘That was a sin, an a grat sin,Bat pardoned it may be;’‘We menement,’ sa[i]d King Henrie,Bat a heavë, heavë heart had he.

‘That was a sin, an a grat sin,

Bat pardoned it may be;’

‘We menement,’ sa[i]d King Henrie,

Bat a heavë, heavë heart had he.

14‘O see ye na yon bony boys,As they play att the baa?An see ye na Earl Merchal’s son?I lee him best of all.

‘O see ye na yon bony boys,

As they play att the baa?

An see ye na Earl Merchal’s son?

I lee him best of all.

15‘But see ye na King Henry’s son?He is headed leak a bull an baked like a bore,I leak him warst of a’:’‘An, by my soth,’ says him King Henry,‘I leak him best of the twa.’

‘But see ye na King Henry’s son?

He is headed leak a bull an baked like a bore,

I leak him warst of a’:’

‘An, by my soth,’ says him King Henry,

‘I leak him best of the twa.’

16The king he turned him roun,Pat on the coat of goud,The Quin turned her roun,The king to behald.

The king he turned him roun,

Pat on the coat of goud,

The Quin turned her roun,

The king to behald.

17‘. . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . .Gin I had na sworn by the croun an the septer roun,Eearl Marchell sud ben gared dee.’

‘. . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . .

Gin I had na sworn by the croun an the septer roun,

Eearl Marchell sud ben gared dee.’

Written without division into stanzas or verses.

22. An ye’ll.

P. 265. From C. K. Sharpe’s “first collection,” p. 18.

“An old song shewing how Sir Wm Wallace killed thirty Englishmen.” This copy resemblesC.‘Decencey’ in 82is the reciter’s rendering of the bencite (benedicite) ofC62.

“An old song shewing how Sir Wm Wallace killed thirty Englishmen.” This copy resemblesC.

‘Decencey’ in 82is the reciter’s rendering of the bencite (benedicite) ofC62.

1‘I wish I had a king,’ brave Wallace he said,That every brave Scotsman might leave by his oun,For between me and my sovreign leigeI think I see some ill [seed] sowen.’2Brave Wallace out-oer yon river he lap,And he lighted low down on the plain,And he came to a gay lady,As she was at the well washing.3‘Some tidings, some tidings,’ brave Wallace he said,‘Some tidings ye most tell unto me;Now since we are met here togither on the plain,Some tidings ye most tell unto me.’4‘O go ye down to yon wee ale-house,And there is fifeteen Englishmen,And they are seeking for good Wallace,And him to take and him for to hang.’5‘I wish I had a penny in my pocket,’ he says,‘Or although it were but a bare baubee,And I wad away to the wee ale-house,The fifeteen Englishmen to see.’6She’s put hir hand in hir left pocket,And fifeteen shillings to him she told down:‘If ever I live to come back this way,The money’s be well paid agein.’7He louted twafauld oer a stick,And he louted threefauld oer a tree,And he’es gane awa to the wee ale-house,The fifeteen Englishmen to see.8When he came to the wee ale-house,He walked ben, says, Decencey be there!The Engilish proud captain he awnsered him,And he awnsered him with a graid domineer.9‘Why, where wast thou born, thou old crooked carle?Where and of what country?’‘I am a true Scotsman bred and born,And an auld crooked carle, just sic as ye may see.’10‘I wad gee fifeteen shillings,’ the captain he said,‘To an auld crooked carle, just sic a ane as thee,If ye wad tell me of Willie Wallace,For he’s the man I wad fain see.’11‘O hold your hand,’ brave Wallace he said,‘And let me see if yeer coin be good;If ye wad give fifeteen shillings more,Ye never bade a better boad.’12He’s tean the captain out-oer the chaft-blade,Till a bitt of meat he never did eat mair;He stickit a’ the reste as the sat aroun the table,And he left them all a spraulling there.13‘Get up, get up, goodwife,’ he says,‘Get up and get me some denner in haste,For it is now three days and nightsSince a bit of meat my mouth did taste.’14The denner was not well made ready,Nor was it on the table sett,Till other fifeteen English menWere a’perading about the yett.15‘Come out, come out now, Wallace,’ they crys,‘For this is the place ye’es sure for [to] die;’‘I lippen not sae little to good,’ he says,‘Although I be but ill-wordie.’16The goodman ran butt, the goodwife ran ben,They put the house in such a fever!Five of them he sticket where they stood,And other five he smoddered in the gitter.17Five of them he folowd to the merry greenwood,And these five he hangt on a grain,And gin the morn at ten o’clockHe was wi his mirry men at Lochmaben.

1‘I wish I had a king,’ brave Wallace he said,That every brave Scotsman might leave by his oun,For between me and my sovreign leigeI think I see some ill [seed] sowen.’

‘I wish I had a king,’ brave Wallace he said,

That every brave Scotsman might leave by his oun,

For between me and my sovreign leige

I think I see some ill [seed] sowen.’

2Brave Wallace out-oer yon river he lap,And he lighted low down on the plain,And he came to a gay lady,As she was at the well washing.

Brave Wallace out-oer yon river he lap,

And he lighted low down on the plain,

And he came to a gay lady,

As she was at the well washing.

3‘Some tidings, some tidings,’ brave Wallace he said,‘Some tidings ye most tell unto me;Now since we are met here togither on the plain,Some tidings ye most tell unto me.’

‘Some tidings, some tidings,’ brave Wallace he said,

‘Some tidings ye most tell unto me;

Now since we are met here togither on the plain,

Some tidings ye most tell unto me.’

4‘O go ye down to yon wee ale-house,And there is fifeteen Englishmen,And they are seeking for good Wallace,And him to take and him for to hang.’

‘O go ye down to yon wee ale-house,

And there is fifeteen Englishmen,

And they are seeking for good Wallace,

And him to take and him for to hang.’

5‘I wish I had a penny in my pocket,’ he says,‘Or although it were but a bare baubee,And I wad away to the wee ale-house,The fifeteen Englishmen to see.’

‘I wish I had a penny in my pocket,’ he says,

‘Or although it were but a bare baubee,

And I wad away to the wee ale-house,

The fifeteen Englishmen to see.’

6She’s put hir hand in hir left pocket,And fifeteen shillings to him she told down:‘If ever I live to come back this way,The money’s be well paid agein.’

She’s put hir hand in hir left pocket,

And fifeteen shillings to him she told down:

‘If ever I live to come back this way,

The money’s be well paid agein.’

7He louted twafauld oer a stick,And he louted threefauld oer a tree,And he’es gane awa to the wee ale-house,The fifeteen Englishmen to see.

He louted twafauld oer a stick,

And he louted threefauld oer a tree,

And he’es gane awa to the wee ale-house,

The fifeteen Englishmen to see.

8When he came to the wee ale-house,He walked ben, says, Decencey be there!The Engilish proud captain he awnsered him,And he awnsered him with a graid domineer.

When he came to the wee ale-house,

He walked ben, says, Decencey be there!

The Engilish proud captain he awnsered him,

And he awnsered him with a graid domineer.

9‘Why, where wast thou born, thou old crooked carle?Where and of what country?’‘I am a true Scotsman bred and born,And an auld crooked carle, just sic as ye may see.’

‘Why, where wast thou born, thou old crooked carle?

Where and of what country?’

‘I am a true Scotsman bred and born,

And an auld crooked carle, just sic as ye may see.’

10‘I wad gee fifeteen shillings,’ the captain he said,‘To an auld crooked carle, just sic a ane as thee,If ye wad tell me of Willie Wallace,For he’s the man I wad fain see.’

‘I wad gee fifeteen shillings,’ the captain he said,

‘To an auld crooked carle, just sic a ane as thee,

If ye wad tell me of Willie Wallace,

For he’s the man I wad fain see.’

11‘O hold your hand,’ brave Wallace he said,‘And let me see if yeer coin be good;If ye wad give fifeteen shillings more,Ye never bade a better boad.’

‘O hold your hand,’ brave Wallace he said,

‘And let me see if yeer coin be good;

If ye wad give fifeteen shillings more,

Ye never bade a better boad.’

12He’s tean the captain out-oer the chaft-blade,Till a bitt of meat he never did eat mair;He stickit a’ the reste as the sat aroun the table,And he left them all a spraulling there.

He’s tean the captain out-oer the chaft-blade,

Till a bitt of meat he never did eat mair;

He stickit a’ the reste as the sat aroun the table,

And he left them all a spraulling there.

13‘Get up, get up, goodwife,’ he says,‘Get up and get me some denner in haste,For it is now three days and nightsSince a bit of meat my mouth did taste.’

‘Get up, get up, goodwife,’ he says,

‘Get up and get me some denner in haste,

For it is now three days and nights

Since a bit of meat my mouth did taste.’

14The denner was not well made ready,Nor was it on the table sett,Till other fifeteen English menWere a’perading about the yett.

The denner was not well made ready,

Nor was it on the table sett,

Till other fifeteen English men

Were a’perading about the yett.

15‘Come out, come out now, Wallace,’ they crys,‘For this is the place ye’es sure for [to] die;’‘I lippen not sae little to good,’ he says,‘Although I be but ill-wordie.’

‘Come out, come out now, Wallace,’ they crys,

‘For this is the place ye’es sure for [to] die;’

‘I lippen not sae little to good,’ he says,

‘Although I be but ill-wordie.’

16The goodman ran butt, the goodwife ran ben,They put the house in such a fever!Five of them he sticket where they stood,And other five he smoddered in the gitter.

The goodman ran butt, the goodwife ran ben,

They put the house in such a fever!

Five of them he sticket where they stood,

And other five he smoddered in the gitter.

17Five of them he folowd to the merry greenwood,And these five he hangt on a grain,And gin the morn at ten o’clockHe was wi his mirry men at Lochmaben.

Five of them he folowd to the merry greenwood,

And these five he hangt on a grain,

And gin the morn at ten o’clock

He was wi his mirry men at Lochmaben.

62. 15.82.Perhaps we should readbe here,as inA102,but other copies havebad ... there,and it is likely enough that there is a confusion of the oblique and the direct form.144.a.

62. 15.

82.Perhaps we should readbe here,as inA102,but other copies havebad ... there,and it is likely enough that there is a confusion of the oblique and the direct form.

144.a.

265 b, note †. ‘Let me see if your money be good, and if it be true and right, you’ll maybe get the downcome of Robinhood,’ from a recited copy, in the preface to Finlay’s Scottish Ballads, I, XV.]

P. 276. What is narrated of Walter in the Chronicon Novalese is likewise told of Ogier by Alexander Neckam, De Naturis Rerum, ed. T. Wright, p. 261 ff. (see also the note at p. lvi), in a copy of Turpin’s Chronicle, Ward, Catalogue of Romances, I, 579 f., and (excepting the monastery) in La Chevalerie Ogier, ed. Barrois, v. 10390 ff.; of Heimir, Saga Ðiðriks af Bern, c. 429 ff., Unger, p. 361 ff.; and in part in the ballad of ‘Svend Felding,’ Grundtvig, No 31, I, 398. See Grundtvig’s preface to No 15, I, 216 ff.; Ward, as above; Voretzsch, Ueber die Sage von Ogier dem Dänen, p. 113 ff.

P. 289, IV, 499. From C. K. Sharpe’s “first collection,” p. 21. Tradition in this copy, as in Herd’s,B, ascribes the death of Douglas to an offended and treacherous page.

1It was about the Lammes time,When moorland men do win their hay,Brave Earl Douglass, in armer bright,Marchd to the Border without delay.2He hes tean wi him the Lindseys light,And sae hes he the Gordons gay,And the Earl of Fife, without all strife,And Sir Heugh Montgomery upon a day.3The hae brunt Northumberland,And sae have [the] Northumbershire,And fair Cluddendale they hae brunt it hale,And he’s left it all in fire fair.4Ay till the came to Earl Percy’s castle,Earl Percey’s castle that stands sae high:‘Come dowen, come dowen, thou proud Percey,Come down and talk one hour with me.5‘Come down, come down, thou proud Percey,Come down and talk one hour with me;For I hae burnt thy heritage,And sae will I thy building high.’6‘If ye hae brunt my heritage,O dule, O dule, and woe is me!But will ye stay at the Otter burnUntill I gather my men to me?’7‘O I will stay at the Otter burnThe space of days two or three,And if ye do not meet me there,I will talk of thy coardie.’8O he hes staid at the Otter burnThe space of days two or three;He sent his page unto his tent-door,For to see what ferleys he could see.9‘O yonder comes yon gallent knight,With all bonny banners high;It wad do ony living goodFor to see the bonny coulers fly.’10‘If the tale be true,’ Earl Douglass says,‘The tidings ye have told to me,The fairest maid in OtterburnThy bedfellow sure shall she be.11‘If the tale be false,’ Earl Douglass says,‘The tidings that ye tell to me,The highest tree in Otterburn,On it high hangëd shall ye be.’12Earl Douglass went to his tent-door,To see what ferleys he could see;His little page came him behind,And ran him through the fair body.13‘If I had a little time,’ he says,‘To set in order my matters high,Ye Gordons gay, to you I say,See that ye let not my men away.14‘Ye Linseys light, both wise and wight,Be sure ye carry my coulers high;Ye Gordons gay, again I say,See that ye let not my men away.15‘Sir Heugh Montgomery, my sistir’s son,I give you the vangaurd over all;Let it neer be said into old EnglandThat so little made a true Scot fall.16‘O lay me dowen by yon brecken-bush,That grows upon yon liley lea;Let it neer be said into old EnglandThat so little made a true Scot die.’17At last those two stout knights did meet,And O but they were wonderous keen!The foght with sowards of the temperd steel,Till the drops of blood ran them betwen.18‘O yeald thee, Percie,’ Montgomery crys,‘O yeald ye, or I’ll lay the low;’‘To whome should I yeald? to whom should I yeald?To whom should I yeald, since it most be so?’19‘O yeald ye to yon breckan-bush,That grows upon yon lilley lea;And if ye will not yeald to this,In truth, Earl Percey, I’ll gar ye die.’20‘I will not yeald to a breckan-bush,Nor yet will I yeald to a brier;But fain wad I yeald to Earl Douglass,Or Sir Heugh Montgomery, if he were here.’21O then this lord begun to faint,And let his soward drop to the ground;Sir Heugh Montgomery, a courtious knight,He bravely took him by the hand.22This deed was done at the Otter burn,Betwen the sunshine and the day;Brave Earl Douglass there was slain,And they carried Percie captive away.

1It was about the Lammes time,When moorland men do win their hay,Brave Earl Douglass, in armer bright,Marchd to the Border without delay.

It was about the Lammes time,

When moorland men do win their hay,

Brave Earl Douglass, in armer bright,

Marchd to the Border without delay.

2He hes tean wi him the Lindseys light,And sae hes he the Gordons gay,And the Earl of Fife, without all strife,And Sir Heugh Montgomery upon a day.

He hes tean wi him the Lindseys light,

And sae hes he the Gordons gay,

And the Earl of Fife, without all strife,

And Sir Heugh Montgomery upon a day.

3The hae brunt Northumberland,And sae have [the] Northumbershire,And fair Cluddendale they hae brunt it hale,And he’s left it all in fire fair.

The hae brunt Northumberland,

And sae have [the] Northumbershire,

And fair Cluddendale they hae brunt it hale,

And he’s left it all in fire fair.

4Ay till the came to Earl Percy’s castle,Earl Percey’s castle that stands sae high:‘Come dowen, come dowen, thou proud Percey,Come down and talk one hour with me.

Ay till the came to Earl Percy’s castle,

Earl Percey’s castle that stands sae high:

‘Come dowen, come dowen, thou proud Percey,

Come down and talk one hour with me.

5‘Come down, come down, thou proud Percey,Come down and talk one hour with me;For I hae burnt thy heritage,And sae will I thy building high.’

‘Come down, come down, thou proud Percey,

Come down and talk one hour with me;

For I hae burnt thy heritage,

And sae will I thy building high.’

6‘If ye hae brunt my heritage,O dule, O dule, and woe is me!But will ye stay at the Otter burnUntill I gather my men to me?’

‘If ye hae brunt my heritage,

O dule, O dule, and woe is me!

But will ye stay at the Otter burn

Untill I gather my men to me?’

7‘O I will stay at the Otter burnThe space of days two or three,And if ye do not meet me there,I will talk of thy coardie.’

‘O I will stay at the Otter burn

The space of days two or three,

And if ye do not meet me there,

I will talk of thy coardie.’

8O he hes staid at the Otter burnThe space of days two or three;He sent his page unto his tent-door,For to see what ferleys he could see.

O he hes staid at the Otter burn

The space of days two or three;

He sent his page unto his tent-door,

For to see what ferleys he could see.

9‘O yonder comes yon gallent knight,With all bonny banners high;It wad do ony living goodFor to see the bonny coulers fly.’

‘O yonder comes yon gallent knight,

With all bonny banners high;

It wad do ony living good

For to see the bonny coulers fly.’

10‘If the tale be true,’ Earl Douglass says,‘The tidings ye have told to me,The fairest maid in OtterburnThy bedfellow sure shall she be.

‘If the tale be true,’ Earl Douglass says,

‘The tidings ye have told to me,

The fairest maid in Otterburn

Thy bedfellow sure shall she be.

11‘If the tale be false,’ Earl Douglass says,‘The tidings that ye tell to me,The highest tree in Otterburn,On it high hangëd shall ye be.’

‘If the tale be false,’ Earl Douglass says,

‘The tidings that ye tell to me,

The highest tree in Otterburn,

On it high hangëd shall ye be.’

12Earl Douglass went to his tent-door,To see what ferleys he could see;His little page came him behind,And ran him through the fair body.

Earl Douglass went to his tent-door,

To see what ferleys he could see;

His little page came him behind,

And ran him through the fair body.

13‘If I had a little time,’ he says,‘To set in order my matters high,Ye Gordons gay, to you I say,See that ye let not my men away.

‘If I had a little time,’ he says,

‘To set in order my matters high,

Ye Gordons gay, to you I say,

See that ye let not my men away.

14‘Ye Linseys light, both wise and wight,Be sure ye carry my coulers high;Ye Gordons gay, again I say,See that ye let not my men away.

‘Ye Linseys light, both wise and wight,

Be sure ye carry my coulers high;

Ye Gordons gay, again I say,

See that ye let not my men away.

15‘Sir Heugh Montgomery, my sistir’s son,I give you the vangaurd over all;Let it neer be said into old EnglandThat so little made a true Scot fall.

‘Sir Heugh Montgomery, my sistir’s son,

I give you the vangaurd over all;

Let it neer be said into old England

That so little made a true Scot fall.

16‘O lay me dowen by yon brecken-bush,That grows upon yon liley lea;Let it neer be said into old EnglandThat so little made a true Scot die.’

‘O lay me dowen by yon brecken-bush,

That grows upon yon liley lea;

Let it neer be said into old England

That so little made a true Scot die.’

17At last those two stout knights did meet,And O but they were wonderous keen!The foght with sowards of the temperd steel,Till the drops of blood ran them betwen.

At last those two stout knights did meet,

And O but they were wonderous keen!

The foght with sowards of the temperd steel,

Till the drops of blood ran them betwen.

18‘O yeald thee, Percie,’ Montgomery crys,‘O yeald ye, or I’ll lay the low;’‘To whome should I yeald? to whom should I yeald?To whom should I yeald, since it most be so?’

‘O yeald thee, Percie,’ Montgomery crys,

‘O yeald ye, or I’ll lay the low;’

‘To whome should I yeald? to whom should I yeald?

To whom should I yeald, since it most be so?’

19‘O yeald ye to yon breckan-bush,That grows upon yon lilley lea;And if ye will not yeald to this,In truth, Earl Percey, I’ll gar ye die.’

‘O yeald ye to yon breckan-bush,

That grows upon yon lilley lea;

And if ye will not yeald to this,

In truth, Earl Percey, I’ll gar ye die.’

20‘I will not yeald to a breckan-bush,Nor yet will I yeald to a brier;But fain wad I yeald to Earl Douglass,Or Sir Heugh Montgomery, if he were here.’

‘I will not yeald to a breckan-bush,

Nor yet will I yeald to a brier;

But fain wad I yeald to Earl Douglass,

Or Sir Heugh Montgomery, if he were here.’

21O then this lord begun to faint,And let his soward drop to the ground;Sir Heugh Montgomery, a courtious knight,He bravely took him by the hand.

O then this lord begun to faint,

And let his soward drop to the ground;

Sir Heugh Montgomery, a courtious knight,

He bravely took him by the hand.

22This deed was done at the Otter burn,Betwen the sunshine and the day;Brave Earl Douglass there was slain,And they carried Percie captive away.

This deed was done at the Otter burn,

Betwen the sunshine and the day;

Brave Earl Douglass there was slain,

And they carried Percie captive away.

63, 71, 81, 221. Otterburn.292 b, 2d paragraph, 9th line.C203,4may have been supplied by Scott; not in Hogg’s copy. See IV, 500, st. 21.294, 520 a, IV, 499. St George, Our Lady’s Knight.O seynt George, oure lady knyght,To that lady thow pray for me!Lydgate, Kalendare, vv. 113, 114, ed. Horstmann, in Herrig’s Archiv, LXXX, 121.O blessyd Lady, Cristes moder dere,And thou Seynt George, that called art her knyght!

63, 71, 81, 221. Otterburn.

292 b, 2d paragraph, 9th line.C203,4may have been supplied by Scott; not in Hogg’s copy. See IV, 500, st. 21.

294, 520 a, IV, 499. St George, Our Lady’s Knight.

O seynt George, oure lady knyght,To that lady thow pray for me!

O seynt George, oure lady knyght,

To that lady thow pray for me!

Lydgate, Kalendare, vv. 113, 114, ed. Horstmann, in Herrig’s Archiv, LXXX, 121.

O blessyd Lady, Cristes moder dere,And thou Seynt George, that called art her knyght!

O blessyd Lady, Cristes moder dere,

And thou Seynt George, that called art her knyght!

Fabyan’s Chronicles, ed. Ellis, 1811, p. 601. (G. L. K.)

P. 306, IV, 502. Fighting on stumps. Agolafre, fighting on his knees after his legs were broken, ‘had wyþ ys axe a-slawe an hep of frenschemen:’ Sir Ferumbras, v. 4603 ff., ed. Herrtage, The English Charlemagne Romances, I, 143. (The French text does not represent him as fighting on his knees: Fierabras, ed. Kroeber and Servois, 1860, v. 4878 ff., p. 147.) (G. L. K.)

P. 317 a, 2d paragraph. Of course Sir James the Rose and Sir John the Gryme came in from the ballad of ‘Sir James the Rose.’

P. 323. There is a copy (‘The Battle of Agincourt’) in C. K. Sharpe’s “first collection,” p. 29, from which some variations may be given.

n. 24. And bring home the tribute that’s due to me.41-3.My master the king salutes thee well,Salutes thee well, most graciously;You must go send, etc.52-4.And darna come to my degree;Go bid him play with his tenish balls,For in French lands he dare no me see.73,4.Such tidings from the king of FranceAs I’m sure with him you can ner agree.83. He bids you play with these tenish balls.104. They were a jovial good company.After10: He counted oer his merry men, Told them by thirty and by three, And when the were all numberd oer He had thirty thousand brave and three.12 The first that fird, it was the French, Upon our English men so free, But we made ten thousand of them fall, And the rest were forc’d for there lives to flee.131. Soon we entered Paris gates.132. trumpets sounding high.134. Have mercy on [my] men and me.141,2.Take home your tribute, the king he says,And three tons of gold I will give to thee.

n. 24. And bring home the tribute that’s due to me.

41-3.

My master the king salutes thee well,Salutes thee well, most graciously;You must go send, etc.

My master the king salutes thee well,

Salutes thee well, most graciously;

You must go send, etc.

52-4.

And darna come to my degree;Go bid him play with his tenish balls,For in French lands he dare no me see.

And darna come to my degree;

Go bid him play with his tenish balls,

For in French lands he dare no me see.

73,4.

Such tidings from the king of FranceAs I’m sure with him you can ner agree.

Such tidings from the king of France

As I’m sure with him you can ner agree.

83. He bids you play with these tenish balls.

104. They were a jovial good company.

After10: He counted oer his merry men, Told them by thirty and by three, And when the were all numberd oer He had thirty thousand brave and three.

12 The first that fird, it was the French, Upon our English men so free, But we made ten thousand of them fall, And the rest were forc’d for there lives to flee.

131. Soon we entered Paris gates.

132. trumpets sounding high.

134. Have mercy on [my] men and me.

141,2.

Take home your tribute, the king he says,And three tons of gold I will give to thee.

Take home your tribute, the king he says,

And three tons of gold I will give to thee.

There is also a copy in “The Old Lady’s Collection,” No 7, but it is not worth collating.

P. 338 b, IV, 502 b. Gold to bury body. Apollonius of Tyre. So in Gower, Confessio Amantis, bk. viii, ed. Pauli, III, 312; in the English prose Kynge Apollyn of Thyre, Wynkyn de Worde, 1510, c. 19, fol. 48, of Ashbee’s fac-simile, 1870; in the German prose Appollonius Tyrus and Appolonius von Tiria, C. Schröder, Griseldis, Apollonius von Tyrus, aus Handschriften herausg., pp. 46, 110, Leipzig, 1873. (G. L. K.)

P. 372. Communicated by Rev. S. Baring-Gould, as recited by Samuel Force.

1Queen Jane, O! Queen Jane, O! what a lady was she!And six weeks and a day in labour was she;Queen Jane was in labour for six weeks and more,Till the women grew weary and fain would give oer.2‘O women, O women, good wives as ye be,Go send for King Henry and bring him to me.’King Henry was sent for, and to her he came:‘Dear lady, fair lady, your eyes they look dim.’3King Henry came to her, he came in all speed,In a gown of red velvet, from the heel to the head:‘King Henry, King Henry, if kind you will be,Send for a good doctor, and let him come to me.’4The doctor was sent for, he came with all speed,In a gown of black velvet from the heel to the head;The doctor was sent for and to her he came:‘Dear lady, fair lady, your labour’s in vain.’5‘Dear doctor, dear doctor, will you do this for me?O open my right side, and save my baby:’Then out spake King Henry, That never can be,I’d rather lose the branches than the top of the tree.6The doctor gave a caudle, the death-sleep slept she,Then her right side was opened and the babe was set free;The babe it was christened, and put out and nursd,But the royal Queen Jane lay cold in the dust.

1Queen Jane, O! Queen Jane, O! what a lady was she!And six weeks and a day in labour was she;Queen Jane was in labour for six weeks and more,Till the women grew weary and fain would give oer.

Queen Jane, O! Queen Jane, O! what a lady was she!

And six weeks and a day in labour was she;

Queen Jane was in labour for six weeks and more,

Till the women grew weary and fain would give oer.

2‘O women, O women, good wives as ye be,Go send for King Henry and bring him to me.’King Henry was sent for, and to her he came:‘Dear lady, fair lady, your eyes they look dim.’

‘O women, O women, good wives as ye be,

Go send for King Henry and bring him to me.’

King Henry was sent for, and to her he came:

‘Dear lady, fair lady, your eyes they look dim.’

3King Henry came to her, he came in all speed,In a gown of red velvet, from the heel to the head:‘King Henry, King Henry, if kind you will be,Send for a good doctor, and let him come to me.’

King Henry came to her, he came in all speed,

In a gown of red velvet, from the heel to the head:

‘King Henry, King Henry, if kind you will be,

Send for a good doctor, and let him come to me.’

4The doctor was sent for, he came with all speed,In a gown of black velvet from the heel to the head;The doctor was sent for and to her he came:‘Dear lady, fair lady, your labour’s in vain.’

The doctor was sent for, he came with all speed,

In a gown of black velvet from the heel to the head;

The doctor was sent for and to her he came:

‘Dear lady, fair lady, your labour’s in vain.’

5‘Dear doctor, dear doctor, will you do this for me?O open my right side, and save my baby:’Then out spake King Henry, That never can be,I’d rather lose the branches than the top of the tree.

‘Dear doctor, dear doctor, will you do this for me?

O open my right side, and save my baby:’

Then out spake King Henry, That never can be,

I’d rather lose the branches than the top of the tree.

6The doctor gave a caudle, the death-sleep slept she,Then her right side was opened and the babe was set free;The babe it was christened, and put out and nursd,But the royal Queen Jane lay cold in the dust.

The doctor gave a caudle, the death-sleep slept she,

Then her right side was opened and the babe was set free;

The babe it was christened, and put out and nursd,

But the royal Queen Jane lay cold in the dust.

Macmath MS., p. 99. Received November, 1892, from the recitation of Mary Cochrane (Mrs Joseph Garmory), Abbey-yard, Crossmichael, Kirkcudbrightshire. Written down by her husband.

1Queen Jeanie was in labor for seven weeks in summer,The women all being tired and quite gave her over:‘O women, dear women, if women you be,Send for my mother to come and see me.’2Her mother was sent for and instantly came,Knelt down at the bedside where Queen Jeanie lay on:‘O mother, dear mother, if mother you be,Send for my father to come and see me.’3The father was sent for and instantly came,Knelt down by the bedside where Queen Jeanie lay on:‘O father, dear father, if father you be,Send for King Henry to come and see me.’4King Henry was sent for and instantly came,Knelt down by the bedside where Queen Jeanie lay on:‘O Henry, King Henry, if Henry you be,Send for the doctor to come and see me.’5The doctor was sent for and instantly came,Knelt down by the bedside where Queen Jeanie lay on:‘O doctor, dear doctor, if doctor you be,Open my left side and let the babe free.’6Her left side was opened, the young prince was found:‘O doctor, dear doctor, lay me down on the ground.’7Her bones were all broken and laid at her feet,And they anointed her body with the ointment so sweet,And ay as they weeped they wrung their hands sore,For the fair flower of England will flourish no more.

1Queen Jeanie was in labor for seven weeks in summer,The women all being tired and quite gave her over:‘O women, dear women, if women you be,Send for my mother to come and see me.’

Queen Jeanie was in labor for seven weeks in summer,

The women all being tired and quite gave her over:

‘O women, dear women, if women you be,

Send for my mother to come and see me.’

2Her mother was sent for and instantly came,Knelt down at the bedside where Queen Jeanie lay on:‘O mother, dear mother, if mother you be,Send for my father to come and see me.’

Her mother was sent for and instantly came,

Knelt down at the bedside where Queen Jeanie lay on:

‘O mother, dear mother, if mother you be,

Send for my father to come and see me.’

3The father was sent for and instantly came,Knelt down by the bedside where Queen Jeanie lay on:‘O father, dear father, if father you be,Send for King Henry to come and see me.’

The father was sent for and instantly came,

Knelt down by the bedside where Queen Jeanie lay on:

‘O father, dear father, if father you be,

Send for King Henry to come and see me.’

4King Henry was sent for and instantly came,Knelt down by the bedside where Queen Jeanie lay on:‘O Henry, King Henry, if Henry you be,Send for the doctor to come and see me.’

King Henry was sent for and instantly came,

Knelt down by the bedside where Queen Jeanie lay on:

‘O Henry, King Henry, if Henry you be,

Send for the doctor to come and see me.’

5The doctor was sent for and instantly came,Knelt down by the bedside where Queen Jeanie lay on:‘O doctor, dear doctor, if doctor you be,Open my left side and let the babe free.’

The doctor was sent for and instantly came,

Knelt down by the bedside where Queen Jeanie lay on:

‘O doctor, dear doctor, if doctor you be,

Open my left side and let the babe free.’

6Her left side was opened, the young prince was found:‘O doctor, dear doctor, lay me down on the ground.’

Her left side was opened, the young prince was found:

‘O doctor, dear doctor, lay me down on the ground.’

7Her bones were all broken and laid at her feet,And they anointed her body with the ointment so sweet,And ay as they weeped they wrung their hands sore,For the fair flower of England will flourish no more.

Her bones were all broken and laid at her feet,

And they anointed her body with the ointment so sweet,

And ay as they weeped they wrung their hands sore,

For the fair flower of England will flourish no more.

P. 379. Stanzas 1, 2, 10 ofCare printed in Motherwell’s Minstrelsy, p. 315, and 4, 9 ofLat p. 316.

380 a, line 13. Say Stewart, or stewart.

384.Aa. Found in a small MS. volume, with the title “Songs” on the cover, entirely in Sharpe’s handwriting, p. 29. The only variations, besides a few in spelling, are these:

91. stairs.173. the night’s.182. they’l.

91. stairs.

173. the night’s.

182. they’l.

389.F.This version was rendered by Skene with comparative fidelity. Still, the original, ‘Quin Mary’s Marreys,’ No 12 of “The Old Lady’s Collection,” would of course have been given if it had been in hand, and should be substituted, opportunity occurring. It is therefore printed here.

1‘My father was the Duck of York,My mother a lady frie,My sell a dainnty damisall,Quin Mary sent for me.2‘The quin’s meat it was so suit,An her clething was sae rair,It made me lang for Suit Willie’s bed,An I ill rue it ever mare.3‘Mary Beeten, an Mary Sitton,An Lady Livenston, a’ three,We’ll never mett in Quin Mary’s bour nou,Marrys tho we be.’4Quin Mary satt in her bour,Suing her selver seam;She thought she hard a baby greetBat an a lady mean.5She throu her neddel frae her,Her seam out of her han,An she is on to Lady Marry’s bour,As fast as she could gang.6‘Open yer dor, Lady Mary,’ she says,‘An lat me come in;For I hear a baby greet,Bat an a lady meen.’7‘Ther is nae bab in my bour, madam the Quin,Nor never thinks to be,Bat the strong pains of gravellThis night has sesed me.’8She paat her fitt to the dor,Bat an her knee,Bolts of brass an irn bandsIn flinders she gart flee.9She pat a han to her bed-headA nether to her bed-feet,An bonny was the babWas blabring in its bleed.10‘Wae worth ye, Lady Mary,An ill dead sall ye die!For in ye widne keepet the bonny babYe might ha gen ’t to me.’11‘Lay na the witt on me, madam,Lay na the witt on me,For my fals love bare the v[e]pan att his sideThat gared my bern dee.’12‘Gett up, Lady Betton, get up, Lady Setton,An Lady Livenston, three,An we will on to EdenbrughAn tray this gay lady.’13As she cam in the Cannogate,The burgers’ wives they crayed hon, ochon, ochree!14‘O had yer still, ye burgers’ wives,An make na mane for me;Seek never grace out of a graslass face,For they ha nan to gee.15‘Ye merchants an ye mareners,That trad on the sea,Ye dinnë tell in my countryThe dead I am gaine to dee.16‘Ye merchants an ye mareners,That traid on the fame,Dinnë tell in my countrayBat fatt I am coming hame.17‘Littel did my father think,Fan he brouch[t] me our the sea,That he woud see my yallou lokesHang on a gallou-tree.18‘Littel did my midder think,Fan she brought me fra hame,That she maugt see my yallou lokesHang on a gallou-pine.19‘. . . . . .O had yer han a wee!For yonder comes my father,I am sure he’ll borrou me.20‘O some of yer goud, father,An of yer well won fee,To safe me [fra the high hill],[An] fra the gallage-tree.’21‘Ye’s gett nane of my goud,Ner of my well wone fee,For I wead gee five hundred pounTo see ye hanged hee.’22‘. . . . .O had yer han a wee!Yonder is my love Willie,He will borrou me.23‘O some of yer goud, my love Wille,An some of yer well wone fee,To save me fraa the high hill,An fraie the gallou-tree.’24‘Ye’s gett a’ my goud,An a’ my well won fee,To save ye fra the heading-hill,An fra the galla-tree.’

1‘My father was the Duck of York,My mother a lady frie,My sell a dainnty damisall,Quin Mary sent for me.

‘My father was the Duck of York,

My mother a lady frie,

My sell a dainnty damisall,

Quin Mary sent for me.

2‘The quin’s meat it was so suit,An her clething was sae rair,It made me lang for Suit Willie’s bed,An I ill rue it ever mare.

‘The quin’s meat it was so suit,

An her clething was sae rair,

It made me lang for Suit Willie’s bed,

An I ill rue it ever mare.

3‘Mary Beeten, an Mary Sitton,An Lady Livenston, a’ three,We’ll never mett in Quin Mary’s bour nou,Marrys tho we be.’

‘Mary Beeten, an Mary Sitton,

An Lady Livenston, a’ three,

We’ll never mett in Quin Mary’s bour nou,

Marrys tho we be.’

4Quin Mary satt in her bour,Suing her selver seam;She thought she hard a baby greetBat an a lady mean.

Quin Mary satt in her bour,

Suing her selver seam;

She thought she hard a baby greet

Bat an a lady mean.

5She throu her neddel frae her,Her seam out of her han,An she is on to Lady Marry’s bour,As fast as she could gang.

She throu her neddel frae her,

Her seam out of her han,

An she is on to Lady Marry’s bour,

As fast as she could gang.

6‘Open yer dor, Lady Mary,’ she says,‘An lat me come in;For I hear a baby greet,Bat an a lady meen.’

‘Open yer dor, Lady Mary,’ she says,

‘An lat me come in;

For I hear a baby greet,

Bat an a lady meen.’

7‘Ther is nae bab in my bour, madam the Quin,Nor never thinks to be,Bat the strong pains of gravellThis night has sesed me.’

‘Ther is nae bab in my bour, madam the Quin,

Nor never thinks to be,

Bat the strong pains of gravell

This night has sesed me.’

8She paat her fitt to the dor,Bat an her knee,Bolts of brass an irn bandsIn flinders she gart flee.

She paat her fitt to the dor,

Bat an her knee,

Bolts of brass an irn bands

In flinders she gart flee.

9She pat a han to her bed-headA nether to her bed-feet,An bonny was the babWas blabring in its bleed.

She pat a han to her bed-head

A nether to her bed-feet,

An bonny was the bab

Was blabring in its bleed.

10‘Wae worth ye, Lady Mary,An ill dead sall ye die!For in ye widne keepet the bonny babYe might ha gen ’t to me.’

‘Wae worth ye, Lady Mary,

An ill dead sall ye die!

For in ye widne keepet the bonny bab

Ye might ha gen ’t to me.’

11‘Lay na the witt on me, madam,Lay na the witt on me,For my fals love bare the v[e]pan att his sideThat gared my bern dee.’

‘Lay na the witt on me, madam,

Lay na the witt on me,

For my fals love bare the v[e]pan att his side

That gared my bern dee.’

12‘Gett up, Lady Betton, get up, Lady Setton,An Lady Livenston, three,An we will on to EdenbrughAn tray this gay lady.’

‘Gett up, Lady Betton, get up, Lady Setton,

An Lady Livenston, three,

An we will on to Edenbrugh

An tray this gay lady.’

13As she cam in the Cannogate,The burgers’ wives they crayed hon, ochon, ochree!

As she cam in the Cannogate,

The burgers’ wives they crayed hon, ochon, ochree!

14‘O had yer still, ye burgers’ wives,An make na mane for me;Seek never grace out of a graslass face,For they ha nan to gee.

‘O had yer still, ye burgers’ wives,

An make na mane for me;

Seek never grace out of a graslass face,

For they ha nan to gee.

15‘Ye merchants an ye mareners,That trad on the sea,Ye dinnë tell in my countryThe dead I am gaine to dee.

‘Ye merchants an ye mareners,

That trad on the sea,

Ye dinnë tell in my country

The dead I am gaine to dee.

16‘Ye merchants an ye mareners,That traid on the fame,Dinnë tell in my countrayBat fatt I am coming hame.

‘Ye merchants an ye mareners,

That traid on the fame,

Dinnë tell in my countray

Bat fatt I am coming hame.

17‘Littel did my father think,Fan he brouch[t] me our the sea,That he woud see my yallou lokesHang on a gallou-tree.

‘Littel did my father think,

Fan he brouch[t] me our the sea,

That he woud see my yallou lokes

Hang on a gallou-tree.

18‘Littel did my midder think,Fan she brought me fra hame,That she maugt see my yallou lokesHang on a gallou-pine.

‘Littel did my midder think,

Fan she brought me fra hame,

That she maugt see my yallou lokes

Hang on a gallou-pine.

19‘. . . . . .O had yer han a wee!For yonder comes my father,I am sure he’ll borrou me.

‘. . . . . .

O had yer han a wee!

For yonder comes my father,

I am sure he’ll borrou me.

20‘O some of yer goud, father,An of yer well won fee,To safe me [fra the high hill],[An] fra the gallage-tree.’

‘O some of yer goud, father,

An of yer well won fee,

To safe me [fra the high hill],

[An] fra the gallage-tree.’

21‘Ye’s gett nane of my goud,Ner of my well wone fee,For I wead gee five hundred pounTo see ye hanged hee.’

‘Ye’s gett nane of my goud,

Ner of my well wone fee,

For I wead gee five hundred poun

To see ye hanged hee.’

22‘. . . . .O had yer han a wee!Yonder is my love Willie,He will borrou me.

‘. . . . .

O had yer han a wee!

Yonder is my love Willie,

He will borrou me.

23‘O some of yer goud, my love Wille,An some of yer well wone fee,To save me fraa the high hill,An fraie the gallou-tree.’

‘O some of yer goud, my love Wille,

An some of yer well wone fee,

To save me fraa the high hill,

An fraie the gallou-tree.’

24‘Ye’s gett a’ my goud,An a’ my well won fee,To save ye fra the heading-hill,An fra the galla-tree.’

‘Ye’s gett a’ my goud,

An a’ my well won fee,

To save ye fra the heading-hill,

An fra the galla-tree.’

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