FOOTNOTES:

FOOTNOTES:[555]malison = curse.[556]dowie = dismal, gloomy.[557]fley’d = frightened.[558]sowm = swim.[559]queet = ankle.

[555]malison = curse.

[556]dowie = dismal, gloomy.

[557]fley’d = frightened.

[558]sowm = swim.

[559]queet = ankle.

IOf a’ the maids o’ fair Scotland,The fairest was Marjorie;And young Benjie was her ae true love,And a dear true-love was he.IIAnd wow! but they were lovers dear,And loved fu’ constantlie;But ay the mair when they fell out,The sairer was their plea[560].IIIAnd they hae quarrell’d on a day,Till Marjorie’s heart grew wae,And she said she’d chuse another luve,And let young Benjie gae.IVAnd he was stout, and proud-heartèd,And thought o’t bitterlie,And he’s gaen by the wan moon-light,To meet his Marjorie.V‘O open, open, my true love!O open, and let me in!’—‘I dare na open, young Benjie,My three brothers are within.’—VI‘Ye lied, ye lied, my bonny burd,Sae loud’s I hear ye lie;As I came by the Lowden banks,They bade gude e’en to me.VII‘But fare ye weel, my ae fause love,That I hae loved sae lang!It sets[561]ye chuse another love,And let young Benjie gang.’VIIIThen Marjorie turned her round about,The tear blinding her e’e,‘I darena, darena let thee in,But I’ll come down to thee.’IXThen saft she smiled, and said to him,‘O what ill hae I done?’He took her in his armis twa,And threw her o’er the linn[562].XThe stream was strang, the maid was stout,And laith laith to be dang[563];But, ere she wan the Lowden banks,Her fair colour was wan.XIThen up bespak her eldest brother,‘O see na ye what I see?’And out then spak her second brother,‘It’s our sister Marjorie!’XIIOut then spak her eldest brother,‘O how shall we her ken?’And out then spak her youngest brother,‘There’s a honey mark on her chin.’XIIIThen they’ve ta’en up the comely corpse,And laid it on the grund:‘O wha has killed our ae sister,And how can he be found?XIV‘The night it is her low lykewake[564],The morn her burial day,And we maun watch at mirk midnight,And hear what she will say.’XVWi’ doors ajar, and candle-light,And torches burning clear,The streikit[565]corpse, till still midnight,They waked, but naething hear.XVIAbout the middle o’ the night,The cocks began to craw,And at the dead hour o’ the night,The corpse began to thraw[566].XVII‘O wha has done the wrang, sister,Or dared the deadly sin?Wha was sae stout, and feared nae dout,As thraw ye o’er the linn?’—XVIII‘Young Benjie was the first ae man,I laid my love upon;He was sae stout and proud-heartèd,He threw me o’er the linn.’—XIX‘Sall we young Benjie head, sister,Sall we young Benjie hang,Or sall we pike out his twa gray e’en,And punish him ere he gang?’—XX‘Ye mauna Benjie head, brothers,Ye mauna Benjie hang,But ye maun pike out his twa gray e’en,And punish him ere he gang.XXI‘Tie a green gravat[567]round his neck,And lead him out and in,And the best ae servant about your house,To wait young Benjie on.XXII‘And ay, at every seven years’ end,Ye’ll tak him to the linn;For that’s the penance he maun drie[568],To scug[569]his deadly sin.’

Of a’ the maids o’ fair Scotland,The fairest was Marjorie;And young Benjie was her ae true love,And a dear true-love was he.

And wow! but they were lovers dear,And loved fu’ constantlie;But ay the mair when they fell out,The sairer was their plea[560].

And they hae quarrell’d on a day,Till Marjorie’s heart grew wae,And she said she’d chuse another luve,And let young Benjie gae.

And he was stout, and proud-heartèd,And thought o’t bitterlie,And he’s gaen by the wan moon-light,To meet his Marjorie.

‘O open, open, my true love!O open, and let me in!’—‘I dare na open, young Benjie,My three brothers are within.’—

‘Ye lied, ye lied, my bonny burd,Sae loud’s I hear ye lie;As I came by the Lowden banks,They bade gude e’en to me.

‘But fare ye weel, my ae fause love,That I hae loved sae lang!It sets[561]ye chuse another love,And let young Benjie gang.’

Then Marjorie turned her round about,The tear blinding her e’e,‘I darena, darena let thee in,But I’ll come down to thee.’

Then saft she smiled, and said to him,‘O what ill hae I done?’He took her in his armis twa,And threw her o’er the linn[562].

The stream was strang, the maid was stout,And laith laith to be dang[563];But, ere she wan the Lowden banks,Her fair colour was wan.

Then up bespak her eldest brother,‘O see na ye what I see?’And out then spak her second brother,‘It’s our sister Marjorie!’

Out then spak her eldest brother,‘O how shall we her ken?’And out then spak her youngest brother,‘There’s a honey mark on her chin.’

Then they’ve ta’en up the comely corpse,And laid it on the grund:‘O wha has killed our ae sister,And how can he be found?

‘The night it is her low lykewake[564],The morn her burial day,And we maun watch at mirk midnight,And hear what she will say.’

Wi’ doors ajar, and candle-light,And torches burning clear,The streikit[565]corpse, till still midnight,They waked, but naething hear.

About the middle o’ the night,The cocks began to craw,And at the dead hour o’ the night,The corpse began to thraw[566].

‘O wha has done the wrang, sister,Or dared the deadly sin?Wha was sae stout, and feared nae dout,As thraw ye o’er the linn?’—

‘Young Benjie was the first ae man,I laid my love upon;He was sae stout and proud-heartèd,He threw me o’er the linn.’—

‘Sall we young Benjie head, sister,Sall we young Benjie hang,Or sall we pike out his twa gray e’en,And punish him ere he gang?’—

‘Ye mauna Benjie head, brothers,Ye mauna Benjie hang,But ye maun pike out his twa gray e’en,And punish him ere he gang.

‘Tie a green gravat[567]round his neck,And lead him out and in,And the best ae servant about your house,To wait young Benjie on.

‘And ay, at every seven years’ end,Ye’ll tak him to the linn;For that’s the penance he maun drie[568],To scug[569]his deadly sin.’

FOOTNOTES:[560]plea = quarrel.[561]sets = befits.[562]linn = stream.[563]dang = overcome.[564]lykewake = corpse-watching.[565]streikit = stretched out.[566]thraw = twist, writhe.[567]gravat = cravat, collar.[568]drie = endure.[569]scug = screen, expiate.

[560]plea = quarrel.

[561]sets = befits.

[562]linn = stream.

[563]dang = overcome.

[564]lykewake = corpse-watching.

[565]streikit = stretched out.

[566]thraw = twist, writhe.

[567]gravat = cravat, collar.

[568]drie = endure.

[569]scug = screen, expiate.

IAnnan water’s wading deep,And my love Annie’s wondrous bonny;And I am laith she suld weet her feet,Because I love her best of ony.II‘Gar saddle me the bonny black,Gar saddle sune, and make him ready;For I will down the Gatehope-Slack,And all to see my bonny ladye.’IIIHe has loupen on the bonny black,He stirr’d him wi’ the spur right sairly;But, or he wan the Gatehope-Slack,I think the steed was wae and weary.IVHe has loupen on the bonny grey,He rade the right gate[570]and the ready;I trow he would neither stint nor stay,For he was seeking his bonny ladye.VO he has ridden o’er field and fell,Through muir and moss, and mony a mire:His spurs o’ steel were sair to bide,And frae her fore-feet flew the fire.VI‘Now, bonny grey, now play your part!Gin ye be the steed that wins my deary,Wi’ corn and hay ye’se be fed for aye,And never spur sall make you wearie.’VIIThe grey was a mare, and a right good mare;But when she wan the Annan water,She couldna hae ridden a furlong mair,Had a thousand merks been wadded[571]at her.VIII‘O boatman, boatman, put off your boat!Put off your boat for gowden money!I cross the drumly[572]stream the night,Or never mair I see my honey.’—IX‘O I was sworn sae late yestreen,And not by ae aith, but by many;And for a’ the gowd in fair Scotland,I dare na take ye through to Annie.’—XThe side was stey[573], and the bottom deep,Frae bank to brae the water pouring;And the bonny grey mare did sweat for fear,For she heard the water-kelpy[574]roaring.XIO he has pu’d aff his dapperpy[575]coat,The silver buttons glancèd bonny;The waistcoat bursted aff his breast,He was sae full of melancholy.XIIHe has ta’en the ford at that stream tail;I wot he swam both strong and steady,But the stream was broad, and his strength did fail,And he never saw his bonny ladye!XIIIO wae betide the frush[576]saugh[577]wand!And wae betide the bush of brier!It brake into my true love’s hand,When his strength did fail, and his limbs did tire.XIV‘And wae betide ye, Annan Water,This night that ye are a drumlie river!For over thee I’ll build a bridge,That ye never more true love may sever.’—

Annan water’s wading deep,And my love Annie’s wondrous bonny;And I am laith she suld weet her feet,Because I love her best of ony.

‘Gar saddle me the bonny black,Gar saddle sune, and make him ready;For I will down the Gatehope-Slack,And all to see my bonny ladye.’

He has loupen on the bonny black,He stirr’d him wi’ the spur right sairly;But, or he wan the Gatehope-Slack,I think the steed was wae and weary.

He has loupen on the bonny grey,He rade the right gate[570]and the ready;I trow he would neither stint nor stay,For he was seeking his bonny ladye.

O he has ridden o’er field and fell,Through muir and moss, and mony a mire:His spurs o’ steel were sair to bide,And frae her fore-feet flew the fire.

‘Now, bonny grey, now play your part!Gin ye be the steed that wins my deary,Wi’ corn and hay ye’se be fed for aye,And never spur sall make you wearie.’

The grey was a mare, and a right good mare;But when she wan the Annan water,She couldna hae ridden a furlong mair,Had a thousand merks been wadded[571]at her.

‘O boatman, boatman, put off your boat!Put off your boat for gowden money!I cross the drumly[572]stream the night,Or never mair I see my honey.’—

‘O I was sworn sae late yestreen,And not by ae aith, but by many;And for a’ the gowd in fair Scotland,I dare na take ye through to Annie.’—

The side was stey[573], and the bottom deep,Frae bank to brae the water pouring;And the bonny grey mare did sweat for fear,For she heard the water-kelpy[574]roaring.

O he has pu’d aff his dapperpy[575]coat,The silver buttons glancèd bonny;The waistcoat bursted aff his breast,He was sae full of melancholy.

He has ta’en the ford at that stream tail;I wot he swam both strong and steady,But the stream was broad, and his strength did fail,And he never saw his bonny ladye!

O wae betide the frush[576]saugh[577]wand!And wae betide the bush of brier!It brake into my true love’s hand,When his strength did fail, and his limbs did tire.

‘And wae betide ye, Annan Water,This night that ye are a drumlie river!For over thee I’ll build a bridge,That ye never more true love may sever.’—

FOOTNOTES:[570]gate = way.[571]wadded = wagered.[572]drumly = turbid.[573]stey = steep.[574]water-kelpy = water-sprite.[575]dapperpy = diapered.[576]frush = brittle.[577]saugh = willow.

[570]gate = way.

[571]wadded = wagered.

[572]drumly = turbid.

[573]stey = steep.

[574]water-kelpy = water-sprite.

[575]dapperpy = diapered.

[576]frush = brittle.

[577]saugh = willow.

I‘Willy’s rare, and Willy’s fair,And Willy’s wondrous bonny;And Willy heght[578]to marry me,Gin e’er he marryd ony.II‘Yestreen I made my bed fu’ braid,The night I’ll make it narrow,For a’ the live-long winter’s nightI lie twin’d[579]of my marrow[580].III‘O came you by yon water-side?Pu’d you the rose or lilly?Or came you by yon meadow green?Or saw you my sweet Willy?’IVShe sought him east, she sought him west,She sought him braid and narrow;Sine, in the clifting[581]of a craig,She found him drown’d in Yarrow.

‘Willy’s rare, and Willy’s fair,And Willy’s wondrous bonny;And Willy heght[578]to marry me,Gin e’er he marryd ony.

‘Yestreen I made my bed fu’ braid,The night I’ll make it narrow,For a’ the live-long winter’s nightI lie twin’d[579]of my marrow[580].

‘O came you by yon water-side?Pu’d you the rose or lilly?Or came you by yon meadow green?Or saw you my sweet Willy?’

She sought him east, she sought him west,She sought him braid and narrow;Sine, in the clifting[581]of a craig,She found him drown’d in Yarrow.

FOOTNOTES:[578]heght = promised.[579]twin’d = deprived.[580]marrow = mate.[581]clifting = cleft.

[578]heght = promised.

[579]twin’d = deprived.

[580]marrow = mate.

[581]clifting = cleft.

IThe Duke of Gordon had three daughters,Elizabeth, Marg’ret and Jean;They would not stay in bonny Castle Gordon,But they went to bonny Aberdeen.IIThey had not been in bonny AberdeenA twelvemonth and a day,Lady Jean fell in love with Captain OgilvieAnd awa’ with him she would gae.IIIWord came to the Duke of Gordon,In the chamber where he lay,Lady Jean was in love with Captain Ogilvie,And from him she would not stay.IV‘Go saddle to me the black horse,And you’ll ride on the grey,And I will gang to bonny AberdeenForthwith to bring her away.’VThey were not a mile from Aberdeen,A mile but only one,Till he met with his two daughters,But awa’ was Lady Jean.VI‘Where is your sister, maidens?Where is your sister now?Say, what is become of your sister,That she is not walking with you?’VII‘O pardon us, honour’d father,O pardon us!’ they did say;‘Lady Jean is wed with Captain Ogilvie,And from him she will not stay.’VIII[Then an angry man the Duke rade on]Till he came to bonny Aberdeen,And there did he see brave Captain OgilvieA-training of his men on the green.IX‘O woe be to thee, thou Captain Ogilvie!And an ill death thou shalt dee.For taking to thee my daughter JeanHigh hangit shalt thou be.’XThe Duke has written a broad letter,To the King [with his own han’;]It was to hang Captain OgilvieIf ever he hang’d a man.XI‘I will not hang Captain OgilvieFor no lord that I see;But I’ll gar him put off the broad scarlèt,And put on the single liver[582]ỳ.’XIINow word came to Captain Ogilvie,In the chamber where he lay,To cast off the gold lace and scarlet,And put on the single liverỳ.XIII‘If this be for bonny Jeanie Gordon,This penance I can take wi’;If this be for dear Jeanie Gordon,All this and mair will I dree[583].’XIVLady Jeanie had not been marriedA year but only three,Till she had a babe upon every armAnd another upon her knee.XV‘O but I’m weary of wand’rin’!O but my fortune is bad!It sets not the Duke of Gordon’s daughterTo follow a soldier lad.XVI‘O but I’m weary, weary wand’rin’!O but I think it lang!It sets not the Duke of Gordon’s daughterTo follow a single man.XVII‘O hold thy tongue, Jeanie Gordon,O hold thy tongue, my lamb!For once I was a noble captain,Now for thy sake a single man.’XVIIIBut when they came to the Highland hills,Cold was the frost and snow;Lady Jean’s shoes they were all torn,No farther could she go.XIX‘Now woe to the hills and the mountains!Woe to the wind and the rain!My feet is sair wi’ going barefoot:No farther can I gang.XX‘O were I in the glens o’ Foudlen,Where hunting I have been,I would go to bonny Castle Gordon,There I’d get hose and sheen[584]!’XXIWhen they came to bonny Castle Gordon,And standing on the green,The porter out with loud loud shout,‘O here comes our Lady Jean!’—XXII‘You are welcome, bonny Jeanie Gordon,You are dear welcome to me;You are welcome, dear Jeanie Gordon,But awa’ with your Ogilvie!’XXIIIOver-seas now went the Captain,As a soldier under command;But a message soon follow’d after,To come home for to heir his land.XXIV‘O what does this mean?’ says the Captain;‘Where’s my brother’s children three?’—‘They are a’ o’ them dead and buried:Come home, pretty Captain Ogilvie!’XXV‘Then hoist up your sail,’ says the Captain,‘And we’ll hie back owre the sea;And I’ll gae to bonny Castle Gordon,There my dear Jeanie to see.’XXVIHe came to bonny Castle Gordon,And upon the green stood he:The porter out with a loud loud shout,‘Here comes our Captain Ogilvie!’—XXVII‘You’re welcome, pretty Captain Ogilvie,Your fortune’s advanced, I hear;No stranger can come to my castleThat I do love so dear.’—XXVIII‘Put up your hat, Duke of Gordon;Let it fa’ not from your head.It never set the noble Duke of GordonTo bow to a single soldier lad.XXIX‘Sir, the last time I was at your Castle,You would not let me in;Now I’m come for my wife and children,No friendship else I claim.’XXXDown the stair Lady Jean came tripping,With the saut tear in her e’e;She had a babe in every arm,And another at her knee.XXXIThe Captain took her straight in his arms,—O a happy man was he!—Saying, ‘Welcome, bonny Jeanie Gordon,My Countess o’ Cumberland to be!’

The Duke of Gordon had three daughters,Elizabeth, Marg’ret and Jean;They would not stay in bonny Castle Gordon,But they went to bonny Aberdeen.

They had not been in bonny AberdeenA twelvemonth and a day,Lady Jean fell in love with Captain OgilvieAnd awa’ with him she would gae.

Word came to the Duke of Gordon,In the chamber where he lay,Lady Jean was in love with Captain Ogilvie,And from him she would not stay.

‘Go saddle to me the black horse,And you’ll ride on the grey,And I will gang to bonny AberdeenForthwith to bring her away.’

They were not a mile from Aberdeen,A mile but only one,Till he met with his two daughters,But awa’ was Lady Jean.

‘Where is your sister, maidens?Where is your sister now?Say, what is become of your sister,That she is not walking with you?’

‘O pardon us, honour’d father,O pardon us!’ they did say;‘Lady Jean is wed with Captain Ogilvie,And from him she will not stay.’

[Then an angry man the Duke rade on]Till he came to bonny Aberdeen,And there did he see brave Captain OgilvieA-training of his men on the green.

‘O woe be to thee, thou Captain Ogilvie!And an ill death thou shalt dee.For taking to thee my daughter JeanHigh hangit shalt thou be.’

The Duke has written a broad letter,To the King [with his own han’;]It was to hang Captain OgilvieIf ever he hang’d a man.

‘I will not hang Captain OgilvieFor no lord that I see;But I’ll gar him put off the broad scarlèt,And put on the single liver[582]ỳ.’

Now word came to Captain Ogilvie,In the chamber where he lay,To cast off the gold lace and scarlet,And put on the single liverỳ.

‘If this be for bonny Jeanie Gordon,This penance I can take wi’;If this be for dear Jeanie Gordon,All this and mair will I dree[583].’

Lady Jeanie had not been marriedA year but only three,Till she had a babe upon every armAnd another upon her knee.

‘O but I’m weary of wand’rin’!O but my fortune is bad!It sets not the Duke of Gordon’s daughterTo follow a soldier lad.

‘O but I’m weary, weary wand’rin’!O but I think it lang!It sets not the Duke of Gordon’s daughterTo follow a single man.

‘O hold thy tongue, Jeanie Gordon,O hold thy tongue, my lamb!For once I was a noble captain,Now for thy sake a single man.’

But when they came to the Highland hills,Cold was the frost and snow;Lady Jean’s shoes they were all torn,No farther could she go.

‘Now woe to the hills and the mountains!Woe to the wind and the rain!My feet is sair wi’ going barefoot:No farther can I gang.

‘O were I in the glens o’ Foudlen,Where hunting I have been,I would go to bonny Castle Gordon,There I’d get hose and sheen[584]!’

When they came to bonny Castle Gordon,And standing on the green,The porter out with loud loud shout,‘O here comes our Lady Jean!’—

‘You are welcome, bonny Jeanie Gordon,You are dear welcome to me;You are welcome, dear Jeanie Gordon,But awa’ with your Ogilvie!’

Over-seas now went the Captain,As a soldier under command;But a message soon follow’d after,To come home for to heir his land.

‘O what does this mean?’ says the Captain;‘Where’s my brother’s children three?’—‘They are a’ o’ them dead and buried:Come home, pretty Captain Ogilvie!’

‘Then hoist up your sail,’ says the Captain,‘And we’ll hie back owre the sea;And I’ll gae to bonny Castle Gordon,There my dear Jeanie to see.’

He came to bonny Castle Gordon,And upon the green stood he:The porter out with a loud loud shout,‘Here comes our Captain Ogilvie!’—

‘You’re welcome, pretty Captain Ogilvie,Your fortune’s advanced, I hear;No stranger can come to my castleThat I do love so dear.’—

‘Put up your hat, Duke of Gordon;Let it fa’ not from your head.It never set the noble Duke of GordonTo bow to a single soldier lad.

‘Sir, the last time I was at your Castle,You would not let me in;Now I’m come for my wife and children,No friendship else I claim.’

Down the stair Lady Jean came tripping,With the saut tear in her e’e;She had a babe in every arm,And another at her knee.

The Captain took her straight in his arms,—O a happy man was he!—Saying, ‘Welcome, bonny Jeanie Gordon,My Countess o’ Cumberland to be!’

FOOTNOTES:[582]single livery = private’s uniform.[583]dree = endure.[584]sheen = shoes.

[582]single livery = private’s uniform.

[583]dree = endure.

[584]sheen = shoes.

IYe Highlands and ye Lawlands,O where hae ye been?They hae slain the Earl of Murray,And hae laid him on the green.IINow wae be to thee, Huntley!And whairfore did ye sae!I bade you bring him wi’ you,But forbade you him to slay.IIIHe was a braw gallant,And he rid at the ring;And the bonny Earl of Murray,O he might hae been a king!IVHe was a braw gallant,And he play’d at the ba’;And the bonny Earl of MurrayWas the flower amang them a’!VHe was a braw gallant,And he play’d at the gluve;And the bonny Earl of Murray,O he was the Queen’s luve!VIO lang will his LadyLook owre the Castle Downe,Ere she see the Earl of MurrayCome sounding through the town!

Ye Highlands and ye Lawlands,O where hae ye been?They hae slain the Earl of Murray,And hae laid him on the green.

Now wae be to thee, Huntley!And whairfore did ye sae!I bade you bring him wi’ you,But forbade you him to slay.

He was a braw gallant,And he rid at the ring;And the bonny Earl of Murray,O he might hae been a king!

He was a braw gallant,And he play’d at the ba’;And the bonny Earl of MurrayWas the flower amang them a’!

He was a braw gallant,And he play’d at the gluve;And the bonny Earl of Murray,O he was the Queen’s luve!

O lang will his LadyLook owre the Castle Downe,Ere she see the Earl of MurrayCome sounding through the town!

IHie upon Hielands,And laigh[585]upon Tay,Bonny George CampbellRade out on a day:Saddled and bridled,Sae gallant to see,Hame cam’ his gude horse,But never cam’ he.IIDown ran his auld mither,Greetin[586]’ fu’ sair;Out ran his bonny bride,Reaving[587]her hair;‘My meadow lies green,And my corn is unshorn,My barn is to bigg[588],And my babe is unborn.’IIISaddled and bridledAnd booted rade he;A plume in his helmet,A sword at his knee;But toom[589]cam’ his saddleA’ bluidy to see,O hame cam’ his gude horse,But never cam’ he!

Hie upon Hielands,And laigh[585]upon Tay,Bonny George CampbellRade out on a day:Saddled and bridled,Sae gallant to see,Hame cam’ his gude horse,But never cam’ he.

Down ran his auld mither,Greetin[586]’ fu’ sair;Out ran his bonny bride,Reaving[587]her hair;‘My meadow lies green,And my corn is unshorn,My barn is to bigg[588],And my babe is unborn.’

Saddled and bridledAnd booted rade he;A plume in his helmet,A sword at his knee;But toom[589]cam’ his saddleA’ bluidy to see,O hame cam’ his gude horse,But never cam’ he!

FOOTNOTES:[585]laigh = low.[586]greeting = crying, lamenting.[587]Reaving = tearing.[588]bigg = build.[589]toom = empty.

[585]laigh = low.

[586]greeting = crying, lamenting.

[587]Reaving = tearing.

[588]bigg = build.

[589]toom = empty.

IHit wes upon a Scere-thorsday[590]that ure loverd[591]aros;Ful milde were the wordèshe spec to Judas.II‘Judas, thou most to Jurselem,oure mete for to bugge[592];Thritti platen[593]of selverthou bere up othi rugge[594].III‘Thou comest fer ithe brode stret,fer ithe brode strete,Summe of thine tunesmen[595]ther thou meist i-mete.’IVImette[596]wid is soster,the swikele[597]wimon:‘Judas, thou were wrthè[598]me stende the wid ston[599],For the false prophetethat tou bilevest upon.’V‘Be stille, leve[600]soster,thin herte the to-breke!Wiste min loverd Crist,ful wel he wolde be wreke[601].’

Hit wes upon a Scere-thorsday[590]that ure loverd[591]aros;Ful milde were the wordèshe spec to Judas.

‘Judas, thou most to Jurselem,oure mete for to bugge[592];Thritti platen[593]of selverthou bere up othi rugge[594].

‘Thou comest fer ithe brode stret,fer ithe brode strete,Summe of thine tunesmen[595]ther thou meist i-mete.’

Imette[596]wid is soster,the swikele[597]wimon:‘Judas, thou were wrthè[598]me stende the wid ston[599],For the false prophetethat tou bilevest upon.’

‘Be stille, leve[600]soster,thin herte the to-breke!Wiste min loverd Crist,ful wel he wolde be wreke[601].’

FOOTNOTES:[590]Scere-thorsday = Thursday before Easter.[591]ure loverd = our lord.[592]bugge = buy.[593]platen = plates, i. e. coins, pieces.[594]rugge = ridge, back.[595]tunesmen = townsmen.[596]Imette = being met.[597]swikele = treacherous.[598]wrthè = worthy.[599]me stende, &c. = men stoned thee.[600]leve = dear.[601]wreke = avenged.

[590]Scere-thorsday = Thursday before Easter.

[591]ure loverd = our lord.

[592]bugge = buy.

[593]platen = plates, i. e. coins, pieces.

[594]rugge = ridge, back.

[595]tunesmen = townsmen.

[596]Imette = being met.

[597]swikele = treacherous.

[598]wrthè = worthy.

[599]me stende, &c. = men stoned thee.

[600]leve = dear.

[601]wreke = avenged.

ISaint Stephen was a clerkIn King Herod’s hall,And servèd him of bread and clothAs every king befall.IIStephen out of kitchen cameWith boar’s head on hand,He saw a star was fair and brightOver Bethlehem stand.IIIHe cast adown the boar’s headAnd went into the hall;‘I forsake thee, Herod,And thy workès all.IV‘I forsake thee, King Herod,And thy workès all,There is a child in Bethlehem bornIs better than we all.’—V‘What aileth thee, Stephen?What is thee befall?Lacketh thee either meat or drinkIn King Herod’s hall?’—VI‘Lacketh me neither meat ne drinkIn King Herod’s hall;There is a child in Bethlehem bornIs better than we all.’—VII‘What aileth thee, Stephen?Art wode[602]or ’ginnest to brede[603]?Lacketh thee either gold or fee,Or any rich weed[604]?’—VIII‘Lacketh me neither gold ne feeNe none rich weed;There is a child in Bethlehem bornShall helpen us at our need.’—IX‘That is all so sooth, Stephen,All so sooth, I-wys,As this capon crowè shallThat li’th here in my dish.’XThat word was not so soon said,That word in that hall,The capon crewChristus natus estAmong the lordès all.XI‘Risit[605]up, my tormentors,By two and all by one,And leadit Stephen out of this town,And stonit him with stone.’XIITooken they StephenAnd stoned him in the way;And therefore is his evenOn Christe’s own day.

Saint Stephen was a clerkIn King Herod’s hall,And servèd him of bread and clothAs every king befall.

Stephen out of kitchen cameWith boar’s head on hand,He saw a star was fair and brightOver Bethlehem stand.

He cast adown the boar’s headAnd went into the hall;‘I forsake thee, Herod,And thy workès all.

‘I forsake thee, King Herod,And thy workès all,There is a child in Bethlehem bornIs better than we all.’—

‘What aileth thee, Stephen?What is thee befall?Lacketh thee either meat or drinkIn King Herod’s hall?’—

‘Lacketh me neither meat ne drinkIn King Herod’s hall;There is a child in Bethlehem bornIs better than we all.’—

‘What aileth thee, Stephen?Art wode[602]or ’ginnest to brede[603]?Lacketh thee either gold or fee,Or any rich weed[604]?’—

‘Lacketh me neither gold ne feeNe none rich weed;There is a child in Bethlehem bornShall helpen us at our need.’—

‘That is all so sooth, Stephen,All so sooth, I-wys,As this capon crowè shallThat li’th here in my dish.’

That word was not so soon said,That word in that hall,The capon crewChristus natus estAmong the lordès all.

‘Risit[605]up, my tormentors,By two and all by one,And leadit Stephen out of this town,And stonit him with stone.’

Tooken they StephenAnd stoned him in the way;And therefore is his evenOn Christe’s own day.

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