FOOTNOTES:

FOOTNOTES:[470]hend = courteous.[471]cordinant = of Cordovan leather.[472]kelter = of undyed wool.[473]bewrail = rail at.[474]wroken = revenged.

[470]hend = courteous.

[471]cordinant = of Cordovan leather.

[472]kelter = of undyed wool.

[473]bewrail = rail at.

[474]wroken = revenged.

IIt fell about the Martinmas,When the wind blew shrill and cauld,Said Edom o’ Gordon to his men,‘We maun draw to a hauld[475].II‘And what a hauld sall we draw to,My merry men and me?We will gae to the house o’ the Rodes,To see that fair ladye.’IIIThe lady stood on her castle wa’,Beheld baith dale and down;There she was ’ware of a host of menCam’ riding towards the town[476].IV‘O see ye not, my merry men a’,O see ye not what I see?Methinks I see a host of men;I marvel wha they be.’VShe ween’d it had been her lovely lord,As he cam riding hame;It was the traitor, Edom o’ Gordon,Wha reck’d nae sin nor shame.VIShe had nae sooner buskit[477]hersell,And putten on her gown,But Edom o’ Gordon an’ his menWere round about the town.VIIThey had nae sooner supper set,Nae sooner said the grace,But Edom o’ Gordon an’ his menWere lighted about the place.VIIIThe lady ran up to her tower-head,Sae fast as she could hie,To see if by her fair speechesShe could wi’ him agree.IX‘Come doun to me, ye lady gay,Come doun, come doun to me;This night sall ye lig within mine arms,To-morrow my bride sall be.’—X‘I winna come down, ye fals Gordon,I winna come down to thee;I winna forsake my ain dear lord,That is sae far frae me.’—XI‘Gie owre your house, ye lady fair,Gie owre your house to me;Or I sall brenn yoursel’ therein,But and your babies three.’—XII‘I winna gie owre, ye fals Gordon,To nae sic traitor as yee;And if ye brenn my ain dear babes,My lord sall make ye dree[478].XIII‘Now reach my pistol, Glaud, my man,And charge ye weel my gun;For, but an I pierce that bluidy butcher,My babes, we been undone!’XIVShe stood upon her castle wa’,And let twa bullets flee:She miss’d that bluidy butcher’s heart,And only razed his knee.XV‘Set fire to the house!’ quo’ fals Gordon,All wud[479]wi’ dule and ire:‘Fals lady, ye sall rue this deidAs ye brenn in the fire!’—XVI‘Wae worth, wae worth ye, Jock, my man!I paid ye weel your fee;Why pu’ ye out the grund-wa’[480]stane,Lets in the reek to me?XVII‘And e’en wae worth ye, Jock, my man!I paid ye weel your hire;Why pu’ ye out the grund-wa’ stane,To me lets in the fire?’—XVIII‘Ye paid me weel my hire, ladye,Ye paid me weel my fee:But now I’m Edom o’ Gordon’s man,Maun either do or dee.’XIXO then bespake her little son,Sat on the nurse’s knee:Says, ‘Mither dear, gie owre this house,For the reek it smithers me.’—XX‘I wad gie a’ my gowd, my bairn,Sae wad I a’ my fee,For ae blast o’ the western wind,To blaw the reek frae thee.’XXIO then bespake her dochter dear—She was baith jimp[481]and sma’:‘O row[482]me in a pair o’ sheets,And tow me owre the wa’!’XXIIThey row’d her in a pair o’ sheets,And tow’d her owre the wa’;But on the point o’ Gordon’s spearShe gat a deadly fa’.XXIIIO bonnie, bonnie was her mouth,And cherry were her cheiks,And clear, clear was her yellow hair,Whereon the red blood dreips.XXIVThen wi’ his spear he turn’d her owre;O gin her face was wane!He said, ‘Ye are the first that e’erI wish’d alive again.’XXVHe turn’d her owre and owre again;O gin her skin was white!‘I might hae spared that bonnie faceTo hae been some man’s delight.XXVI‘Busk and boun[483], my merry men a’,For ill dooms I do guess;I canna look in that bonnie faceAs it lies on the grass.’—XXVII‘Wha looks to freits[484], my master dear,It’s freits will follow them;Let it ne’er be said that Edom o’ GordonWas daunted by a dame.’XXVIIIBut when the lady saw the fireCome flaming owre her head,She wept, and kiss’d her children twain,Says, ‘Bairns, we been but dead.’XXIXThe Gordon then his bugle blew,And said, ‘Awa’, awa’!This house o’ the Rodes is a’ in a flame;I hauld it time to ga’.’XXXAnd this way lookit her ain dear lord,As he cam owre the lea;He saw his castle a’ in a lowe[485],As far as he could see.XXXIThen sair, O sair, his mind misgave,And all his heart was wae:‘Put on, put on, my wighty[486]men,Sae fast as ye can gae.XXXII‘Put on, put on, my wighty men,Sae fast as ye can drie!For he that’s hindmost o’ the thrangSall ne’er get good o’ me.’XXXIIIThen some they rade, and some they ran,Out-owre the grass and bent;But ere the foremost could win up,Baith lady and babes were brent.XXXIVAnd after the Gordon he is gane,Sae fast as he might drie;And soon i’ the Gordon’s foul heart’s bludeHe’s wroken[487]his dear ladye.

It fell about the Martinmas,When the wind blew shrill and cauld,Said Edom o’ Gordon to his men,‘We maun draw to a hauld[475].

‘And what a hauld sall we draw to,My merry men and me?We will gae to the house o’ the Rodes,To see that fair ladye.’

The lady stood on her castle wa’,Beheld baith dale and down;There she was ’ware of a host of menCam’ riding towards the town[476].

‘O see ye not, my merry men a’,O see ye not what I see?Methinks I see a host of men;I marvel wha they be.’

She ween’d it had been her lovely lord,As he cam riding hame;It was the traitor, Edom o’ Gordon,Wha reck’d nae sin nor shame.

She had nae sooner buskit[477]hersell,And putten on her gown,But Edom o’ Gordon an’ his menWere round about the town.

They had nae sooner supper set,Nae sooner said the grace,But Edom o’ Gordon an’ his menWere lighted about the place.

The lady ran up to her tower-head,Sae fast as she could hie,To see if by her fair speechesShe could wi’ him agree.

‘Come doun to me, ye lady gay,Come doun, come doun to me;This night sall ye lig within mine arms,To-morrow my bride sall be.’—

‘I winna come down, ye fals Gordon,I winna come down to thee;I winna forsake my ain dear lord,That is sae far frae me.’—

‘Gie owre your house, ye lady fair,Gie owre your house to me;Or I sall brenn yoursel’ therein,But and your babies three.’—

‘I winna gie owre, ye fals Gordon,To nae sic traitor as yee;And if ye brenn my ain dear babes,My lord sall make ye dree[478].

‘Now reach my pistol, Glaud, my man,And charge ye weel my gun;For, but an I pierce that bluidy butcher,My babes, we been undone!’

She stood upon her castle wa’,And let twa bullets flee:She miss’d that bluidy butcher’s heart,And only razed his knee.

‘Set fire to the house!’ quo’ fals Gordon,All wud[479]wi’ dule and ire:‘Fals lady, ye sall rue this deidAs ye brenn in the fire!’—

‘Wae worth, wae worth ye, Jock, my man!I paid ye weel your fee;Why pu’ ye out the grund-wa’[480]stane,Lets in the reek to me?

‘And e’en wae worth ye, Jock, my man!I paid ye weel your hire;Why pu’ ye out the grund-wa’ stane,To me lets in the fire?’—

‘Ye paid me weel my hire, ladye,Ye paid me weel my fee:But now I’m Edom o’ Gordon’s man,Maun either do or dee.’

O then bespake her little son,Sat on the nurse’s knee:Says, ‘Mither dear, gie owre this house,For the reek it smithers me.’—

‘I wad gie a’ my gowd, my bairn,Sae wad I a’ my fee,For ae blast o’ the western wind,To blaw the reek frae thee.’

O then bespake her dochter dear—She was baith jimp[481]and sma’:‘O row[482]me in a pair o’ sheets,And tow me owre the wa’!’

They row’d her in a pair o’ sheets,And tow’d her owre the wa’;But on the point o’ Gordon’s spearShe gat a deadly fa’.

O bonnie, bonnie was her mouth,And cherry were her cheiks,And clear, clear was her yellow hair,Whereon the red blood dreips.

Then wi’ his spear he turn’d her owre;O gin her face was wane!He said, ‘Ye are the first that e’erI wish’d alive again.’

He turn’d her owre and owre again;O gin her skin was white!‘I might hae spared that bonnie faceTo hae been some man’s delight.

‘Busk and boun[483], my merry men a’,For ill dooms I do guess;I canna look in that bonnie faceAs it lies on the grass.’—

‘Wha looks to freits[484], my master dear,It’s freits will follow them;Let it ne’er be said that Edom o’ GordonWas daunted by a dame.’

But when the lady saw the fireCome flaming owre her head,She wept, and kiss’d her children twain,Says, ‘Bairns, we been but dead.’

The Gordon then his bugle blew,And said, ‘Awa’, awa’!This house o’ the Rodes is a’ in a flame;I hauld it time to ga’.’

And this way lookit her ain dear lord,As he cam owre the lea;He saw his castle a’ in a lowe[485],As far as he could see.

Then sair, O sair, his mind misgave,And all his heart was wae:‘Put on, put on, my wighty[486]men,Sae fast as ye can gae.

‘Put on, put on, my wighty men,Sae fast as ye can drie!For he that’s hindmost o’ the thrangSall ne’er get good o’ me.’

Then some they rade, and some they ran,Out-owre the grass and bent;But ere the foremost could win up,Baith lady and babes were brent.

And after the Gordon he is gane,Sae fast as he might drie;And soon i’ the Gordon’s foul heart’s bludeHe’s wroken[487]his dear ladye.

FOOTNOTES:[475]hauld = place of shelter.[476]town = stead.[477]buskit = attired.[478]dree = suffer.[479]wud = mad.[480]grund-wa’ = ground-wall.[481]jimp = slender, trim.[482]row = wrap.[483]Busk and boun = trim up and prepare to go.[484]freits = ill omen.[485]lowe = flame.[486]wighty = sturdy, active.[487]wroken = avenged.

[475]hauld = place of shelter.

[476]town = stead.

[477]buskit = attired.

[478]dree = suffer.

[479]wud = mad.

[480]grund-wa’ = ground-wall.

[481]jimp = slender, trim.

[482]row = wrap.

[483]Busk and boun = trim up and prepare to go.

[484]freits = ill omen.

[485]lowe = flame.

[486]wighty = sturdy, active.

[487]wroken = avenged.

IIt’s Lamkin was a mason goodAs ever built wi’ stane;He built Lord Wearie’s castle,But payment got he nane.II‘O pay me, Lord Wearie,Come, pay to me my fee.’—‘I canna pay you, Lamkin,For I maun gang o’er the sea.’—III‘O pay me now, Lord Wearie,Come, pay me out o’ hand.’—‘I canna pay you, Lamkin,Unless I sell my land.’—IV‘O gin ye winna pay me,I here sall mak’ a vowBefore that ye come hame again,Ye sall hae cause to rue.’VLord Wearie got a bonny ship,To sail the saut sea faem;Bade his lady weel the castle keep,Ay till he should come hame.VI‘Gae bar the doors,’ the lady said,‘Gae well the windows pin;And what care I for LamkinOr any of his gang?’VIIBut the nourice was a fause limmer[488]As e’er hung on a tree;She laid a plot wi’ Lamkin,Whan her lord was o’er the sea.VIIIShe laid a plot wi’ Lamkin,When the servants were awa’,Loot him in at a little shot-window[489],And brought him to the ha’.IX‘O whare’s a’ the men o’ this house,That ca’ me the Lamkin?’—‘They’re at the barn-well thrashing;’Twill be lang ere they come in.’—X‘And whare’s the women o’ this house,That ca’ me the Lamkin?’—‘They’re at the far well washing;’Twill be lang ere they come in.’—XI‘And whare’s the bairns o’ this house,That ca’ me the Lamkin?’—‘They’re at the school reading;’Twill be night or they come hame.’—XII‘O whare’s the lady o’ this house,That ca’s me the Lamkin?’—‘She’s up in her bower sewing,But we soon can bring her down.’XIIIThen Lamkin’s tane a sharp knife,That hung down by his gare[490],And he has gi’en the bonny babeA deep wound and a sair.XIVThen Lamkin he rockèd,And the fause nourice sang,Till frae ilka bore[491]o’ the cradleThe red blood out sprang.XVThen out it spak’ the lady,As she stood on the stair:‘What ails my bairn, nourice,That he’s greeting[492]sae sair?XVI‘O still my bairn, nourice,O still him wi’ the pap!’—‘He winna still, lady,For this nor for that.’—XVII‘O still my bairn, nourice,O still him wi’ the wand!’—‘He winna still, lady,For a’ his father’s land.’—XVIII‘O still my bairn, nourice,O still him wi’ the bell!’—‘He winna still, lady,Till ye come down yoursel’.’—XIXO the firsten step she steppit,She steppit on a stane;But the neisten step she steppit,She met him Lamkin.XX‘O mercy, mercy, Lamkin,Hae mercy upon me!Though you hae ta’en my young son’s life,Ye may let mysel’ be.’—XXI‘O sall I kill her, nourice,Or sall I lat her be?’—‘O kill her, kill her, Lamkin,For she ne’er was good to me.’—XXII‘O scour the bason, nourice,And mak’ it fair and clean,For to keep this lady’s heart’s blood,For she’s come o’ noble kin.’—XXIII‘There need nae bason, Lamkin,Lat it run through the floor;What better is the heart’s bloodO’ the rich than o’ the poor?’XXIVBut ere three months were at an end,Lord Wearie came again;But dowie[493], dowie was his heartWhen first he came hame.XXV‘O wha’s blood is this,’ he says,‘That lies in the cham’er[494]?’—‘It is your lady’s heart’s blood;’Tis as clear as the lamer[495].’—XXVI‘And wha’s blood is this,’ he says,‘That lies in my ha’?’—‘It is your young son’s heart’s blood;’Tis the clearest ava’[496].’XXVIIO sweetly sang the black-birdThat sat upon the tree;But sairer grat Lamkin,When he was condemn’d to dee.XXVIIIAnd bonny sang the mavisOut o’ the thorny brake;But sairer grat the nourice,When she was tied to the stake.

It’s Lamkin was a mason goodAs ever built wi’ stane;He built Lord Wearie’s castle,But payment got he nane.

‘O pay me, Lord Wearie,Come, pay to me my fee.’—‘I canna pay you, Lamkin,For I maun gang o’er the sea.’—

‘O pay me now, Lord Wearie,Come, pay me out o’ hand.’—‘I canna pay you, Lamkin,Unless I sell my land.’—

‘O gin ye winna pay me,I here sall mak’ a vowBefore that ye come hame again,Ye sall hae cause to rue.’

Lord Wearie got a bonny ship,To sail the saut sea faem;Bade his lady weel the castle keep,Ay till he should come hame.

‘Gae bar the doors,’ the lady said,‘Gae well the windows pin;And what care I for LamkinOr any of his gang?’

But the nourice was a fause limmer[488]As e’er hung on a tree;She laid a plot wi’ Lamkin,Whan her lord was o’er the sea.

She laid a plot wi’ Lamkin,When the servants were awa’,Loot him in at a little shot-window[489],And brought him to the ha’.

‘O whare’s a’ the men o’ this house,That ca’ me the Lamkin?’—‘They’re at the barn-well thrashing;’Twill be lang ere they come in.’—

‘And whare’s the women o’ this house,That ca’ me the Lamkin?’—‘They’re at the far well washing;’Twill be lang ere they come in.’—

‘And whare’s the bairns o’ this house,That ca’ me the Lamkin?’—‘They’re at the school reading;’Twill be night or they come hame.’—

‘O whare’s the lady o’ this house,That ca’s me the Lamkin?’—‘She’s up in her bower sewing,But we soon can bring her down.’

Then Lamkin’s tane a sharp knife,That hung down by his gare[490],And he has gi’en the bonny babeA deep wound and a sair.

Then Lamkin he rockèd,And the fause nourice sang,Till frae ilka bore[491]o’ the cradleThe red blood out sprang.

Then out it spak’ the lady,As she stood on the stair:‘What ails my bairn, nourice,That he’s greeting[492]sae sair?

‘O still my bairn, nourice,O still him wi’ the pap!’—‘He winna still, lady,For this nor for that.’—

‘O still my bairn, nourice,O still him wi’ the wand!’—‘He winna still, lady,For a’ his father’s land.’—

‘O still my bairn, nourice,O still him wi’ the bell!’—‘He winna still, lady,Till ye come down yoursel’.’—

O the firsten step she steppit,She steppit on a stane;But the neisten step she steppit,She met him Lamkin.

‘O mercy, mercy, Lamkin,Hae mercy upon me!Though you hae ta’en my young son’s life,Ye may let mysel’ be.’—

‘O sall I kill her, nourice,Or sall I lat her be?’—‘O kill her, kill her, Lamkin,For she ne’er was good to me.’—

‘O scour the bason, nourice,And mak’ it fair and clean,For to keep this lady’s heart’s blood,For she’s come o’ noble kin.’—

‘There need nae bason, Lamkin,Lat it run through the floor;What better is the heart’s bloodO’ the rich than o’ the poor?’

But ere three months were at an end,Lord Wearie came again;But dowie[493], dowie was his heartWhen first he came hame.

‘O wha’s blood is this,’ he says,‘That lies in the cham’er[494]?’—‘It is your lady’s heart’s blood;’Tis as clear as the lamer[495].’—

‘And wha’s blood is this,’ he says,‘That lies in my ha’?’—‘It is your young son’s heart’s blood;’Tis the clearest ava’[496].’

O sweetly sang the black-birdThat sat upon the tree;But sairer grat Lamkin,When he was condemn’d to dee.

And bonny sang the mavisOut o’ the thorny brake;But sairer grat the nourice,When she was tied to the stake.

FOOTNOTES:[488]limmer = wretch, jade.[489]shot-window = a window opening on a hinge.[490]gare = a seam of the skirt.[491]bore = hole, crevice.[492]greeting = wailing, crying.[493]dowie = heavy, sorrowful.[494]cham’er = chamber.[495]lamer = amber.[496]ava’ = of all.

[488]limmer = wretch, jade.

[489]shot-window = a window opening on a hinge.

[490]gare = a seam of the skirt.

[491]bore = hole, crevice.

[492]greeting = wailing, crying.

[493]dowie = heavy, sorrowful.

[494]cham’er = chamber.

[495]lamer = amber.

[496]ava’ = of all.

IA’ the boys of merry LincolnWere playing at the ba’[497],And by it came him sweet Sir Hugh,And he play’d o’er them a’.IIHe kick’d the ba’ with his right foot,And catch’d it wi’ his knee,And thro’-and-thro’ the Jew’s windowHe gar’d the bonny ba’ flee.IIIHe’s doen[498]him to the Jew’s castell,And walk’d it round about;And there he saw the Jew’s daughterAt the window looking out.IV‘Throw down the ba’, ye Jew’s daughter,Throw down the ba’ to me!’—‘Never a bit,’ says the Jew’s daughter,‘Till up to me come ye.’—V‘How will I come up? How can I come up?How can I come up to thee?I winna come up, I darena come up,Without my play-feres[499]three.’VIShe’s ta’en her to the Jew’s garden,Where the grass grew long and green,She’s pu’d an apple red and whiteTo wyle the pretty boy in.VIIShe’s wyled him in through ae dark door,And sae has she through nine;She’s laid him on a dressing table,And stickit him like a swine.VIIIAnd first came out the thick, thick blood,And syne came out the thin,And syne came out the bonny heart’s blood;There was no more within.IXShe’s row’d[500]him in a cake o’ lead,Bade him lie still and sleep;She’s thrown him into Our Lady’s draw-well,Was fifty fathom deep.XWhen bells were rung, and mass was sung,And a’ the bairns came hame,Then every lady had hame her son,But Lady Helen had nane.XIShe’s ta’en her mantle her about,Her coffer by the hand,And she’s gone out to seek her son,And wander’d o’er the land.XIIShe’s doen her to the Jew’s castellWhere a’ were fast asleep;Cries, ‘Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh,I pray you to me speak!’XIIIShe near’d Our Lady’s deep draw-well,And fell down on her knee:‘Where’er ye be, my sweet Sir Hugh,I pray you speak to me!’—XIV‘O the lead is wondrous heavy, mother,The well is wondrous deep;The little penknife sticks in my throat,And I downa[501]to ye speak.XV‘Gae hame, gae hame, my mither dear,Prepare my winding sheet,And at the back o’ merry LincolnThe morn I will you meet.’XVINow Lady Helen is gane hame,Made him a winding sheet,And at the back o’ merry LincolnThe dead corpse did her meet.XVIIAnd a’ the bells o’ merry LincolnWithout men’s hands were rung;And a’ the books o’ merry LincolnWere read without man’s tongue;And never was such a burialSin’ Adam’s day begun.

A’ the boys of merry LincolnWere playing at the ba’[497],And by it came him sweet Sir Hugh,And he play’d o’er them a’.

He kick’d the ba’ with his right foot,And catch’d it wi’ his knee,And thro’-and-thro’ the Jew’s windowHe gar’d the bonny ba’ flee.

He’s doen[498]him to the Jew’s castell,And walk’d it round about;And there he saw the Jew’s daughterAt the window looking out.

‘Throw down the ba’, ye Jew’s daughter,Throw down the ba’ to me!’—‘Never a bit,’ says the Jew’s daughter,‘Till up to me come ye.’—

‘How will I come up? How can I come up?How can I come up to thee?I winna come up, I darena come up,Without my play-feres[499]three.’

She’s ta’en her to the Jew’s garden,Where the grass grew long and green,She’s pu’d an apple red and whiteTo wyle the pretty boy in.

She’s wyled him in through ae dark door,And sae has she through nine;She’s laid him on a dressing table,And stickit him like a swine.

And first came out the thick, thick blood,And syne came out the thin,And syne came out the bonny heart’s blood;There was no more within.

She’s row’d[500]him in a cake o’ lead,Bade him lie still and sleep;She’s thrown him into Our Lady’s draw-well,Was fifty fathom deep.

When bells were rung, and mass was sung,And a’ the bairns came hame,Then every lady had hame her son,But Lady Helen had nane.

She’s ta’en her mantle her about,Her coffer by the hand,And she’s gone out to seek her son,And wander’d o’er the land.

She’s doen her to the Jew’s castellWhere a’ were fast asleep;Cries, ‘Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh,I pray you to me speak!’

She near’d Our Lady’s deep draw-well,And fell down on her knee:‘Where’er ye be, my sweet Sir Hugh,I pray you speak to me!’—

‘O the lead is wondrous heavy, mother,The well is wondrous deep;The little penknife sticks in my throat,And I downa[501]to ye speak.

‘Gae hame, gae hame, my mither dear,Prepare my winding sheet,And at the back o’ merry LincolnThe morn I will you meet.’

Now Lady Helen is gane hame,Made him a winding sheet,And at the back o’ merry LincolnThe dead corpse did her meet.

And a’ the bells o’ merry LincolnWithout men’s hands were rung;And a’ the books o’ merry LincolnWere read without man’s tongue;And never was such a burialSin’ Adam’s day begun.

FOOTNOTES:[497]ba’ = ball, football.[498]doen = betaken.[499]play-feres = playfellows.[500]row’d = wrapped.[501]downa = cannot, have not the force to.

[497]ba’ = ball, football.

[498]doen = betaken.

[499]play-feres = playfellows.

[500]row’d = wrapped.

[501]downa = cannot, have not the force to.

IThe bonny heir, and the well-faur’d[502]heir,The weary heir o’ Linne—Yonder he stands at his father’s yetts[503],And naebody bids him in.II‘O see for he gangs, and see for he stands,The unthrifty heir o’ Linne!O see for he stands on the cauld causey[504],And nane bids him come in!’IIIHis father and mother were dead him fro’,And so was the head o’ his kin;To the cards and dice that he did run,Did neither cease nor blin[505].IVTo drink the wine that was so clearWith all he would mak’ merrye;And then bespake him John o’ the Scales,To the heir of Linne said he:V‘How doest thou, thou Lord of LinneDoest want or gold or fee?Wilt thou not sell thy lands so broadTo such a good fellow as me?’VIHe told the gold upon the board,Wanted never a bare pennye:‘The gold is thine, the land is mine,The heir of Linne I will be.’VII‘Here’s gold enow,’ saith the heir of Linne,‘For me and my companye.’He drank the wine that was so clear,And with all he made merrye.VIIIWithin three quarters of a yearHis gold it waxèd thin;His merry men were from him gone,Bade him, ‘To the de’il ye’se gang!’IX‘Now well-a-day!’ said the heir of Linne,‘I have left not one pennye.God be with my father!’ he said,‘On his land he lived merrilye.’XHis nourice at her window look’d,Beholding dale and down,And she beheld this distress’d young manCome walking to the town.XI‘O see for he gangs, and see for he stands,The weary heir o’ Linne!O see for he stands on the cauld causey,And nane bids him come in!’—XII‘Sing owre again that sang, nourice,The sang ye sung just now.’—‘I never sung a sang i’ my lifeBut I would sing owre to you.XIII‘Come here, come here, Willy,’ she said,‘And rest yoursel’ wi’ me;I hae seen you in better days,And in jovial companye.’—XIV‘Gie me a sheave[506]o’ your bread, nourice,And a bottle o’ your wine,And I will pay it you owre againWhen I am Lord of Linne.’—XV‘Ye’se get a sheave o’ my bread, Willy,And a bottle o’ my wine;But ye’ll pay me when the seas gang dry,For ye’ll ne’er be Lord o’ Linne.’XVIThen he turn’d him right and round about,As will a woman’s son,And aff he set and bent his wayAnd cam’ to the house o’ Linne.XVIIBut when he cam’ to that castle,They were set down to dine;A score of nobles there he saw,Sat drinking at their wine.XVIIIThen some bade gie him beef and fish,And some but bane and fin,And some bade gie him naething at a’,But let the palmer gang.XIXThen out it speaks him John o’ Scales,A saucy word spak’ he:‘Put round the cup, give the beggar a sup,Let him fare on his way.’XXThen out it speaks Sir Ned Magnew,Ane o’ young Willy’s kin:‘This youth was ance a sprightly boyAs ever lived in Linne.’XXIHe turn’d him right and round about,As will a woman’s son,Then minded him on a little wee keyThat his mother left to him.XXIIHis mother left him this little wee keyA little before she deed;And bade him keep this little wee keyTill he was in maist need.XXIIIThen forth he went, these nobles leftAll drinking in the room;Wi’ walking rod intill his handHe walk’d the castle roun’:XXIVTill that he found a little door,And therein slipp’d the key;And there he found three chests in fere[507]Of the red and the white monie.XXVBack then through the nobles a’He went and did not blin,Until he cam’ where John o’ the ScalesWas seated [at the wine].XXVIThen out and spake it John o’ Scales,He spake wi’ mock and jeer:‘I’d gie a seat to the Lord o’ LinneIf sae be that he were here.XXVII‘When the lands o’ Linne a-selling wereA’ men said they were free;I will sell them twenty pound better cheapNor ever I bought of thee.’—XXVIII‘I tak’ ye to witness, nobles a’!’—He cast him a God’s pennye[508]—‘I will buy them twenty pound better cheapNor ever he bought of me.’XXIXHe’s done him to the gaming-table,For it stood fair and clean;And there he’s tould as much rich goldAs free’d the lands o’ Linne.XXXHe told the gold there over the board,Wanted never a broad pennye;‘The gold is thine, the land is mine,Lord o’ Linne again I’ll be.’XXXI‘Well-a-day!’ said John o’ the Scales’ wife,‘Well-a-day, and woe is me!Yesterday I was the Lady o’ Linne,And now I’m a naebodye!’XXXIIBut ‘Fare thee well,’ said the heir of Linne,‘Now John o’ the Scales!’ said he:‘A curse light on me if ever againMy lands be in jeopardye!’

The bonny heir, and the well-faur’d[502]heir,The weary heir o’ Linne—Yonder he stands at his father’s yetts[503],And naebody bids him in.

‘O see for he gangs, and see for he stands,The unthrifty heir o’ Linne!O see for he stands on the cauld causey[504],And nane bids him come in!’

His father and mother were dead him fro’,And so was the head o’ his kin;To the cards and dice that he did run,Did neither cease nor blin[505].

To drink the wine that was so clearWith all he would mak’ merrye;And then bespake him John o’ the Scales,To the heir of Linne said he:

‘How doest thou, thou Lord of LinneDoest want or gold or fee?Wilt thou not sell thy lands so broadTo such a good fellow as me?’

He told the gold upon the board,Wanted never a bare pennye:‘The gold is thine, the land is mine,The heir of Linne I will be.’

‘Here’s gold enow,’ saith the heir of Linne,‘For me and my companye.’He drank the wine that was so clear,And with all he made merrye.

Within three quarters of a yearHis gold it waxèd thin;His merry men were from him gone,Bade him, ‘To the de’il ye’se gang!’

‘Now well-a-day!’ said the heir of Linne,‘I have left not one pennye.God be with my father!’ he said,‘On his land he lived merrilye.’

His nourice at her window look’d,Beholding dale and down,And she beheld this distress’d young manCome walking to the town.

‘O see for he gangs, and see for he stands,The weary heir o’ Linne!O see for he stands on the cauld causey,And nane bids him come in!’—

‘Sing owre again that sang, nourice,The sang ye sung just now.’—‘I never sung a sang i’ my lifeBut I would sing owre to you.

‘Come here, come here, Willy,’ she said,‘And rest yoursel’ wi’ me;I hae seen you in better days,And in jovial companye.’—

‘Gie me a sheave[506]o’ your bread, nourice,And a bottle o’ your wine,And I will pay it you owre againWhen I am Lord of Linne.’—

‘Ye’se get a sheave o’ my bread, Willy,And a bottle o’ my wine;But ye’ll pay me when the seas gang dry,For ye’ll ne’er be Lord o’ Linne.’

Then he turn’d him right and round about,As will a woman’s son,And aff he set and bent his wayAnd cam’ to the house o’ Linne.

But when he cam’ to that castle,They were set down to dine;A score of nobles there he saw,Sat drinking at their wine.

Then some bade gie him beef and fish,And some but bane and fin,And some bade gie him naething at a’,But let the palmer gang.

Then out it speaks him John o’ Scales,A saucy word spak’ he:‘Put round the cup, give the beggar a sup,Let him fare on his way.’

Then out it speaks Sir Ned Magnew,Ane o’ young Willy’s kin:‘This youth was ance a sprightly boyAs ever lived in Linne.’

He turn’d him right and round about,As will a woman’s son,Then minded him on a little wee keyThat his mother left to him.

His mother left him this little wee keyA little before she deed;And bade him keep this little wee keyTill he was in maist need.

Then forth he went, these nobles leftAll drinking in the room;Wi’ walking rod intill his handHe walk’d the castle roun’:

Till that he found a little door,And therein slipp’d the key;And there he found three chests in fere[507]Of the red and the white monie.

Back then through the nobles a’He went and did not blin,Until he cam’ where John o’ the ScalesWas seated [at the wine].

Then out and spake it John o’ Scales,He spake wi’ mock and jeer:‘I’d gie a seat to the Lord o’ LinneIf sae be that he were here.

‘When the lands o’ Linne a-selling wereA’ men said they were free;I will sell them twenty pound better cheapNor ever I bought of thee.’—

‘I tak’ ye to witness, nobles a’!’—He cast him a God’s pennye[508]—‘I will buy them twenty pound better cheapNor ever he bought of me.’

He’s done him to the gaming-table,For it stood fair and clean;And there he’s tould as much rich goldAs free’d the lands o’ Linne.

He told the gold there over the board,Wanted never a broad pennye;‘The gold is thine, the land is mine,Lord o’ Linne again I’ll be.’

‘Well-a-day!’ said John o’ the Scales’ wife,‘Well-a-day, and woe is me!Yesterday I was the Lady o’ Linne,And now I’m a naebodye!’

But ‘Fare thee well,’ said the heir of Linne,‘Now John o’ the Scales!’ said he:‘A curse light on me if ever againMy lands be in jeopardye!’

FOOTNOTES:[502]well-faur’d = well favoured.[503]yetts = gates.[504]causey = causeway, pavement.[505]blin = stint, check.[506]sheave = slice.[507]in fere = together.[508]God’s pennye = earnest or luck-penny.

[502]well-faur’d = well favoured.

[503]yetts = gates.

[504]causey = causeway, pavement.

[505]blin = stint, check.

[506]sheave = slice.

[507]in fere = together.

[508]God’s pennye = earnest or luck-penny.

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