I

IOur King he kept a false steward,Men call’d him Sir Aldingar;[He would have woo’d our comely QueeneTo be his paramour].IIHe would have woo’d our comely Queene,Her deere worship to betray:Our Queene she was a good womanAnd evermore said him nay.IIISir Aldingar was offended in ’s mind,With her he was ne’er content,But he sought what meanès he could findIn a fyer to have her brent[55].IVThere came a lame lazar to the King’s gate,A lazar ’was blind and lame;He took the lazar upon his backe,Upon the Queene’s bed did him lay.VSaid, ‘Lye still, lazar, whereas thou lyest,Looke thou goe not away;I’le make thee a whole man and a soundIn two howres of a day.’VIAnd then went forth Sir AldingarOur Queene for to betray,And then he met with our comely King,Says, ‘God you save and see!VII‘If I had space, as I have grace,A message I’d say to thee.’—‘Say on, say on, Sir Aldingar,Say thou on and unto me.’VIII‘I can shew you one of the grievous’t sightsEver Christian King did see;Our Queene hath chosen a new, new love,She will have none of thee.IX‘If she had chosen a right good knight,The lesse had beene her shame;But she hath chosen a lazar manWhich is both blind and lame.’—X‘If this be true, Sir Aldingar,That thou dost tell to me,Then will I make thee a rich knightBoth of gold and fee.XI‘But if it be false, Sir Aldingar,That thou dost tell to me,Then looke thou for no other deathBut to be hang’d on tree.’XIIWhen the King came into the Queene’s chamber,Standing her bed before,‘There’s a lodly[56]lome[57],’ says Harry the KingFor our dame Queene Elinor!XIII‘If thou were a man, as thou art none,It is here thou shouldest dye;But a paire of new gallowes shall be built,Thou’st hang on them soe hye.XIV‘And a fayre fyer there shall be bett[58],And brent our Queene shall been.’Forth then walk’d our comely King,And met with our comely Queene.XVSaies, ‘God you save our Queene, Madam,And Christ you save and see!Here you have chosen a new, new love,And you will have none of mee.XVI‘If you had chosen a right good knight,The lesse had beene your shame;But you have chosen a lazar manThat is both blind and lame.’XVII‘Ever alacke!’ said our comely Queene,‘Sir Aldingar he is false;But ever alacke!’ said our comely Queene,‘And woe is me, and alas!XVIII‘I had thought swevens[59]had never been trueI have proved them true [today]:I dream’d in my swevens on Thursday at evenIn my bed wheras I lay,XIX‘I dreamèd a grype[60]and a grimlie beastHad carried my crowne away,My gorget and my kirtle of golde,And all my heade-geare [gay].XX‘He wo’ld have worryed me with his tush[61],And borne me into his nest,Saving there came a little hawkeFlying out of the east.XXI‘—Saving there came a little hawkeWhich men call a merlion[62];He stroke him downe untill the ground,That deade he did fall downe.XXII‘Gif I were a man, as I am none,A battell I wo’ld prove;I wo’ld fight with that false traitor;At him I cast my glove!XXIII‘Seeing I am able noe battell to make,You must grant me, my liege, a knight,To fight with that traitor, Sir Aldingar,To maintaine me in my right.’XXIV‘I’le give thee forty dayes,’ said our King,‘To seeke thee a man therein;If thou find not a man in forty dayes,In a hott fyer thou shalt brenn.’XXVOur Queene sent forth a messenger;He rode fast into the south;He rode the countryes through and throughSoe far unto Portsmouth.XXVI[But for all his riding ne’er sped heTo fetch help to our Queene;]He co’ld find noe man in the south countrỳ‘Wo’ld fight with the knight soe keene.XXVIIThe second messenger shee sent forth,Rode far into the east;But—blessèd be God ’made sunn and moone!—He sped then all of the best.XXVIIIAs he rode then by one river side,There he mett with a little Child;He seemèd noe more in a man’s likenesseThan a child of four yeeres old.XXIXHe ask’d the messenger how far he rode;Loth he was him to tell;The little one was offended att him,Bade him adieu, farewell.XXXSaid, ‘Turne thou againe, thou messenger,Greete our Queen well from me;When bale[63]is at hyest, boote[64]is at nyest—Helpe enough there may bee.XXXI‘Bid our Queene remember what she did dreameIn her bedd wheras shee lay;She dreamèd the grype and the grimlie beastHad carryed her crowne away;XXXII‘Her gorgett and her kirtle of gold,Her head-geare [all soe drest]He wo’ld have worryed her with his tush,And borne her into his nest.XXXIII‘Saving there came a little hawke,Men call him a merlion;‘Did strike him downe untill the groundThat dead he did fall downe.XXXIV‘Bidd the Queene be merry att her heart,Evermore light and glad;When bale is at hyest, boote is at nyest,Helpe enough [shall be had’].XXXVThen the Queen’s messenger rode backe,A gladded man then was hee;When that he came before our Queene,A gladd woman then was shee.XXXVIShe gave the messenger twenty pound,O Lord, in gold and fee;Saies, ‘Spend, nor spare while this doth last,Then fetch thou more of me.’XXXVIIOur Queene was put in a tunne[65]to burn;She thought noe thing but death:When they were ware of the Little One’Came ryding forth of the east.XXXVIIIWith a mu[le and a bridle all of bells]A lovelye child was hee;When that he came to that fyérHe lighted the Queene full nigh.XXXIXSayd, ‘Draw away these brands of fyer’Lie burning before our Queene,And fetch me hither Sir AldingarThat is a knight soe keene.’XLWhen Aldingar saw that Little One,Full little of him hee thought;If there had been halfe a hundred suchOf them he would not have wrought[66].XLIHe sayd, ‘Come hither, Sir Aldingar,Thou seemest as big as a fooder[67];I trust God ere I have done with theeGod will send us an auger.’XLIISayes, ‘The first stroke that’s given, Sir Aldingar,I will give unto thee;And if the second give thou may,Looke then thou spare not mee.’XLIIIThis Little One pull’d forth a well good sword,I wis it well all of gilte.It cast a light there over that field,It shone soe all of gilte.XLIVHe stroke the first stroke at Aldingar;[Noe second needed hee;At the first stroke] he stroke awayHis leggs [all] by the knee.XLVSayes, ‘Stand up, stand up, thou false traitor,And fight upon thy feete;For, an thou thrive as thou begins,Of a height we shall be meete[68].’XLVI‘A priest, a priest,’ sayes Aldingar,‘Me for to housel and shrive!A priest, a priest,’ sayes Aldingar,‘While I am a man living alive!XLVII‘I would have courted our comely Queene;To it shee wo’ld never consent;I thought to betray her to our KingIn a fyer to have her brent.XLVIII‘There came a lame lazar to the King’s gate,A lazar both blind and lame;I took the lazar upon my back,Upon the Queene’s bedd had him layn.XLIX‘I bade him,Lye still, lazar, where he lay,Looke he went not away;I wo’ld make him a whole man and a soundIn two houres of a day.L‘A priest, a priest,’ sayes Aldingar,‘To shrive me cleane of hell!Ever alacke!’ sayes Sir Aldingar,‘Falsing never doth well.LI‘Forgive, forgive me, Queene, Madam!For Christ’s love forgive me!’—‘God forgave his death, Aldingar,And freely I forgive thee.’—LII‘Now take thy wife, thou King Harry,And love her as thou sho’ld;Thy wife shee is as true to theeAs stone lies in castle wall.’LIIIThe lazar under the gallow tree[Grew] a pretty man and small:The lazar under the gallow treeWas made steward in King Harry’s hall.

Our King he kept a false steward,Men call’d him Sir Aldingar;[He would have woo’d our comely QueeneTo be his paramour].

He would have woo’d our comely Queene,Her deere worship to betray:Our Queene she was a good womanAnd evermore said him nay.

Sir Aldingar was offended in ’s mind,With her he was ne’er content,But he sought what meanès he could findIn a fyer to have her brent[55].

There came a lame lazar to the King’s gate,A lazar ’was blind and lame;He took the lazar upon his backe,Upon the Queene’s bed did him lay.

Said, ‘Lye still, lazar, whereas thou lyest,Looke thou goe not away;I’le make thee a whole man and a soundIn two howres of a day.’

And then went forth Sir AldingarOur Queene for to betray,And then he met with our comely King,Says, ‘God you save and see!

‘If I had space, as I have grace,A message I’d say to thee.’—‘Say on, say on, Sir Aldingar,Say thou on and unto me.’

‘I can shew you one of the grievous’t sightsEver Christian King did see;Our Queene hath chosen a new, new love,She will have none of thee.

‘If she had chosen a right good knight,The lesse had beene her shame;But she hath chosen a lazar manWhich is both blind and lame.’—

‘If this be true, Sir Aldingar,That thou dost tell to me,Then will I make thee a rich knightBoth of gold and fee.

‘But if it be false, Sir Aldingar,That thou dost tell to me,Then looke thou for no other deathBut to be hang’d on tree.’

When the King came into the Queene’s chamber,Standing her bed before,‘There’s a lodly[56]lome[57],’ says Harry the KingFor our dame Queene Elinor!

‘If thou were a man, as thou art none,It is here thou shouldest dye;But a paire of new gallowes shall be built,Thou’st hang on them soe hye.

‘And a fayre fyer there shall be bett[58],And brent our Queene shall been.’Forth then walk’d our comely King,And met with our comely Queene.

Saies, ‘God you save our Queene, Madam,And Christ you save and see!Here you have chosen a new, new love,And you will have none of mee.

‘If you had chosen a right good knight,The lesse had beene your shame;But you have chosen a lazar manThat is both blind and lame.’

‘Ever alacke!’ said our comely Queene,‘Sir Aldingar he is false;But ever alacke!’ said our comely Queene,‘And woe is me, and alas!

‘I had thought swevens[59]had never been trueI have proved them true [today]:I dream’d in my swevens on Thursday at evenIn my bed wheras I lay,

‘I dreamèd a grype[60]and a grimlie beastHad carried my crowne away,My gorget and my kirtle of golde,And all my heade-geare [gay].

‘He wo’ld have worryed me with his tush[61],And borne me into his nest,Saving there came a little hawkeFlying out of the east.

‘—Saving there came a little hawkeWhich men call a merlion[62];He stroke him downe untill the ground,That deade he did fall downe.

‘Gif I were a man, as I am none,A battell I wo’ld prove;I wo’ld fight with that false traitor;At him I cast my glove!

‘Seeing I am able noe battell to make,You must grant me, my liege, a knight,To fight with that traitor, Sir Aldingar,To maintaine me in my right.’

‘I’le give thee forty dayes,’ said our King,‘To seeke thee a man therein;If thou find not a man in forty dayes,In a hott fyer thou shalt brenn.’

Our Queene sent forth a messenger;He rode fast into the south;He rode the countryes through and throughSoe far unto Portsmouth.

[But for all his riding ne’er sped heTo fetch help to our Queene;]He co’ld find noe man in the south countrỳ‘Wo’ld fight with the knight soe keene.

The second messenger shee sent forth,Rode far into the east;But—blessèd be God ’made sunn and moone!—He sped then all of the best.

As he rode then by one river side,There he mett with a little Child;He seemèd noe more in a man’s likenesseThan a child of four yeeres old.

He ask’d the messenger how far he rode;Loth he was him to tell;The little one was offended att him,Bade him adieu, farewell.

Said, ‘Turne thou againe, thou messenger,Greete our Queen well from me;When bale[63]is at hyest, boote[64]is at nyest—Helpe enough there may bee.

‘Bid our Queene remember what she did dreameIn her bedd wheras shee lay;She dreamèd the grype and the grimlie beastHad carryed her crowne away;

‘Her gorgett and her kirtle of gold,Her head-geare [all soe drest]He wo’ld have worryed her with his tush,And borne her into his nest.

‘Saving there came a little hawke,Men call him a merlion;‘Did strike him downe untill the groundThat dead he did fall downe.

‘Bidd the Queene be merry att her heart,Evermore light and glad;When bale is at hyest, boote is at nyest,Helpe enough [shall be had’].

Then the Queen’s messenger rode backe,A gladded man then was hee;When that he came before our Queene,A gladd woman then was shee.

She gave the messenger twenty pound,O Lord, in gold and fee;Saies, ‘Spend, nor spare while this doth last,Then fetch thou more of me.’

Our Queene was put in a tunne[65]to burn;She thought noe thing but death:When they were ware of the Little One’Came ryding forth of the east.

With a mu[le and a bridle all of bells]A lovelye child was hee;When that he came to that fyérHe lighted the Queene full nigh.

Sayd, ‘Draw away these brands of fyer’Lie burning before our Queene,And fetch me hither Sir AldingarThat is a knight soe keene.’

When Aldingar saw that Little One,Full little of him hee thought;If there had been halfe a hundred suchOf them he would not have wrought[66].

He sayd, ‘Come hither, Sir Aldingar,Thou seemest as big as a fooder[67];I trust God ere I have done with theeGod will send us an auger.’

Sayes, ‘The first stroke that’s given, Sir Aldingar,I will give unto thee;And if the second give thou may,Looke then thou spare not mee.’

This Little One pull’d forth a well good sword,I wis it well all of gilte.It cast a light there over that field,It shone soe all of gilte.

He stroke the first stroke at Aldingar;[Noe second needed hee;At the first stroke] he stroke awayHis leggs [all] by the knee.

Sayes, ‘Stand up, stand up, thou false traitor,And fight upon thy feete;For, an thou thrive as thou begins,Of a height we shall be meete[68].’

‘A priest, a priest,’ sayes Aldingar,‘Me for to housel and shrive!A priest, a priest,’ sayes Aldingar,‘While I am a man living alive!

‘I would have courted our comely Queene;To it shee wo’ld never consent;I thought to betray her to our KingIn a fyer to have her brent.

‘There came a lame lazar to the King’s gate,A lazar both blind and lame;I took the lazar upon my back,Upon the Queene’s bedd had him layn.

‘I bade him,Lye still, lazar, where he lay,Looke he went not away;I wo’ld make him a whole man and a soundIn two houres of a day.

‘A priest, a priest,’ sayes Aldingar,‘To shrive me cleane of hell!Ever alacke!’ sayes Sir Aldingar,‘Falsing never doth well.

‘Forgive, forgive me, Queene, Madam!For Christ’s love forgive me!’—‘God forgave his death, Aldingar,And freely I forgive thee.’—

‘Now take thy wife, thou King Harry,And love her as thou sho’ld;Thy wife shee is as true to theeAs stone lies in castle wall.’

The lazar under the gallow tree[Grew] a pretty man and small:The lazar under the gallow treeWas made steward in King Harry’s hall.

FOOTNOTES:[55]brent = burnt.[56]lodly = loathly.[57]lome = thing.[58]bett = kindled.[59]swevens = dreams.[60]grype = gryphon.[61]tush = tusk, beak.[62]merlion = merlin, a small falcon.[63]bale = evil, trouble.[64]boote = help, remedy.[65]tunne = barrel.[66]wrought = recked.[67]fooder = tun.[68]meete = matched, equal.

[55]brent = burnt.

[56]lodly = loathly.

[57]lome = thing.

[58]bett = kindled.

[59]swevens = dreams.

[60]grype = gryphon.

[61]tush = tusk, beak.

[62]merlion = merlin, a small falcon.

[63]bale = evil, trouble.

[64]boote = help, remedy.

[65]tunne = barrel.

[66]wrought = recked.

[67]fooder = tun.

[68]meete = matched, equal.

ICospatrick has sent o’er the faem:Cospatrick brought his ladye hame.IIFull seven score ships have come her wi’,The ladye by the grene-wood tree.IIIThere was twal’ and twal’ wi’ baken bread,And twal’ and twal’ wi’ the goud sae red:IVAnd twal’ and twal’ wi’ beer and wine,And twal’ and twal’ wi’ muskadine:VAnd twal’ and twal’ wi’ bouted[69]flour,And twal’ and twal’ wi’ paramour[70].VISweet Willy was a Widow’s son,And at her stirrup he did run.VIIAnd she was clad in the finest pall[71],But aye she let the tears down fall.VIII‘O lady, sits your saddle awry?Or is your steed for you owre high?IX‘Or are you mourning in your tideThat you suld be Cospatrick’s bride?’X‘I am not mourning at this tideThat I suld be Cospatrick’s bride:XI‘But I am mourning in my moodThat ever I left my mother good.XII‘But, bonny boy, come tell to meWhat is the custom o’ your countrie?’XIII‘The custom thereof, my dame,’ he says,‘Will ill a gentle ladye please.XIV‘Seven King’s daughters has our lord wedded,And seven King’s daughters has our lord bedded:XV‘But he’s cutted their breasts frae their breast-bane,And sent them mourning hame again.XVI‘But when you come to the palace yett[72],His mother a gowden chair will set:XVII‘And be you maid or be you nane,O sit you there till the day be dane.XVIII‘And gin you’re sure that you’re a maid,Ye may gae safely him to wed:XIX‘But gif o’ that ye be na sure,Then hire some damsel o’ your bour.’—XXO when she came to the palace yett,His mother a gowden chair did set:XXIThe bonnie may was tired wi’ ridin’,Gae’d sit her down ere she was bidden.XXIIAnd was she maid or was she nane,She sat in it till the day was dune.XXIIIAnd she’s call’d on her bour-woman,That waiting was into[73]her train:XXIV‘Five thousand marks I’ll gie to thee,To sleep this night with my lord for me.’—XXV[‘But will it for my ladye plead,I’se be the bride in my ladye’s stead.’]—XXVIWhen bells were rung and mass was sayne,And a’ men unto bed were gane,XXVIICospatrick and the bonny maidInto ae chamber they were laid.XXVIII‘Now speak to me, blankets, and speak to me, bed,And speak, thou sheet, inchanted web,XXIX‘And speak, my brown sword, that winna lee[74],Is this a leal maiden that lies by me?’XXX‘It is not a maid that you hae wedded,But it is a maid that you hae bedded:XXXI‘It is a leal maiden that lies by thee,But not the maiden that it should be.’XXXIIThen out he sprang o’ his bridal bed,And wrathfully his claiths on did:XXXIIIAnd he has ta’en him through the ha’,And on his mother he did ca’.XXXIV‘I am the most unhappy manThat ever was in Christen land:XXXV‘I courted a maiden meik and mild,And I’ve gat but a woman great wi’ child.’—XXXVI‘O stay, my son, into this ha’,And sport ye wi’ your merry men a’.XXXVII‘And I’ll gang to your painted bour,To see how it fares wi’ your paramour.’XXXVIIIThe carline[75]queen was stark and strangShe gar’d the door flee aff the ban[76].XXXIX‘O is your bairn to laird or loun[77],Or is it to your father’s groom?’—XL‘O hear me, mother, on my knee,Till my sad story I tell to thee.XLI‘O we were sisters, sisters seven;We were the fairest under heaven.XLII‘We had nae mair for our seven years’ warkBut to shape and sew the King’s son a sark.XLIII‘It fell on a summer’s afternoon,When a’ our langsome task was done,XLIV‘We cast the kevils[78]us amangTo see which suld to the grene-wood gang.XLV‘Ohone, alas! for I was the youngest,And aye my weird it was the hardest.XLVI‘The kevil it did on me fa’,Which was the cause of a’ my wae.XLVII‘For to the grene-wood I must gae,To pu’ the red rose and the slae;XLVIII‘To pu’ the red rose and the thymeTo deck my mother’s bour and mine.XLIX‘I hadna pu’d a flower but ane,When by there came a gallant hende[79],L‘Wi’ high-coll’d[80]hose and laigh-coll’d shoon,And he seem’d to be some Kingis son.LI‘And be I a maid, or be I nae,He kept me there till the close o’ day:LII‘And be I a maid or be I nane,He kept me there till the day was done.LIII‘He gae me a lock o’ his yellow hair,And bade me keep it for ever mair:LIV‘He gae me a carknet[81]o’ bonny beads,And bade me keep it against my needs.LV‘He gae to me a gay gold ring,And bade me keep it abune a’ thing.LVI‘He gae to me a little pen-knife,And bade me keep it as my life.’—LVII‘What did you wi’ the tokens rareThat ye got frae that gallant there?’—LVIII‘O bring that coffer here to me,And a’ the tokens ye sall see.’LIXAnd aye she sought, and aye she flang[82]Until these four things cam’ to her hand.LX‘Now stay here, daughter, your bour within,Till I gae parley with my son.’LXIO she has ta’en her thro’ the ha’,And on her son began to ca’.LXII‘What did you wi’ that gay gold ringI bade you keep abune a’ thing?LXIII‘What did you wi’ that little pen-knifeI bade you keep while you had life?LXIV‘What did you wi’ the bonny beadsI bade you keep against your needs?’—LXV‘I gae them to a ladye gayI met i’ the grene-wood on a day.LXVI‘But I wad gie a’ my ha’s and tours,I had that bright burd in my bours:LXVII‘But I wad gie my very lifeI had that ladye to my wife!’LXVIII‘Now keep, my son, your ha’s and tours;Ye have that bright burd in your bours.LXIX‘And keep, my son, your very life,Ye have that ladye to your wife.’LXXNow, or a month was come and gane,The ladye bore him a bonny son.LXXIAnd it was well written on his breast-bane,‘Cospatrick is my father’s name.’LXXIIO rowe[83]my ladye in satin and silk,And wash my son in the morning milk!

Cospatrick has sent o’er the faem:Cospatrick brought his ladye hame.

Full seven score ships have come her wi’,The ladye by the grene-wood tree.

There was twal’ and twal’ wi’ baken bread,And twal’ and twal’ wi’ the goud sae red:

And twal’ and twal’ wi’ beer and wine,And twal’ and twal’ wi’ muskadine:

And twal’ and twal’ wi’ bouted[69]flour,And twal’ and twal’ wi’ paramour[70].

Sweet Willy was a Widow’s son,And at her stirrup he did run.

And she was clad in the finest pall[71],But aye she let the tears down fall.

‘O lady, sits your saddle awry?Or is your steed for you owre high?

‘Or are you mourning in your tideThat you suld be Cospatrick’s bride?’

‘I am not mourning at this tideThat I suld be Cospatrick’s bride:

‘But I am mourning in my moodThat ever I left my mother good.

‘But, bonny boy, come tell to meWhat is the custom o’ your countrie?’

‘The custom thereof, my dame,’ he says,‘Will ill a gentle ladye please.

‘Seven King’s daughters has our lord wedded,And seven King’s daughters has our lord bedded:

‘But he’s cutted their breasts frae their breast-bane,And sent them mourning hame again.

‘But when you come to the palace yett[72],His mother a gowden chair will set:

‘And be you maid or be you nane,O sit you there till the day be dane.

‘And gin you’re sure that you’re a maid,Ye may gae safely him to wed:

‘But gif o’ that ye be na sure,Then hire some damsel o’ your bour.’—

O when she came to the palace yett,His mother a gowden chair did set:

The bonnie may was tired wi’ ridin’,Gae’d sit her down ere she was bidden.

And was she maid or was she nane,She sat in it till the day was dune.

And she’s call’d on her bour-woman,That waiting was into[73]her train:

‘Five thousand marks I’ll gie to thee,To sleep this night with my lord for me.’—

[‘But will it for my ladye plead,I’se be the bride in my ladye’s stead.’]—

When bells were rung and mass was sayne,And a’ men unto bed were gane,

Cospatrick and the bonny maidInto ae chamber they were laid.

‘Now speak to me, blankets, and speak to me, bed,And speak, thou sheet, inchanted web,

‘And speak, my brown sword, that winna lee[74],Is this a leal maiden that lies by me?’

‘It is not a maid that you hae wedded,But it is a maid that you hae bedded:

‘It is a leal maiden that lies by thee,But not the maiden that it should be.’

Then out he sprang o’ his bridal bed,And wrathfully his claiths on did:

And he has ta’en him through the ha’,And on his mother he did ca’.

‘I am the most unhappy manThat ever was in Christen land:

‘I courted a maiden meik and mild,And I’ve gat but a woman great wi’ child.’—

‘O stay, my son, into this ha’,And sport ye wi’ your merry men a’.

‘And I’ll gang to your painted bour,To see how it fares wi’ your paramour.’

The carline[75]queen was stark and strangShe gar’d the door flee aff the ban[76].

‘O is your bairn to laird or loun[77],Or is it to your father’s groom?’—

‘O hear me, mother, on my knee,Till my sad story I tell to thee.

‘O we were sisters, sisters seven;We were the fairest under heaven.

‘We had nae mair for our seven years’ warkBut to shape and sew the King’s son a sark.

‘It fell on a summer’s afternoon,When a’ our langsome task was done,

‘We cast the kevils[78]us amangTo see which suld to the grene-wood gang.

‘Ohone, alas! for I was the youngest,And aye my weird it was the hardest.

‘The kevil it did on me fa’,Which was the cause of a’ my wae.

‘For to the grene-wood I must gae,To pu’ the red rose and the slae;

‘To pu’ the red rose and the thymeTo deck my mother’s bour and mine.

‘I hadna pu’d a flower but ane,When by there came a gallant hende[79],

‘Wi’ high-coll’d[80]hose and laigh-coll’d shoon,And he seem’d to be some Kingis son.

‘And be I a maid, or be I nae,He kept me there till the close o’ day:

‘And be I a maid or be I nane,He kept me there till the day was done.

‘He gae me a lock o’ his yellow hair,And bade me keep it for ever mair:

‘He gae me a carknet[81]o’ bonny beads,And bade me keep it against my needs.

‘He gae to me a gay gold ring,And bade me keep it abune a’ thing.

‘He gae to me a little pen-knife,And bade me keep it as my life.’—

‘What did you wi’ the tokens rareThat ye got frae that gallant there?’—

‘O bring that coffer here to me,And a’ the tokens ye sall see.’

And aye she sought, and aye she flang[82]Until these four things cam’ to her hand.

‘Now stay here, daughter, your bour within,Till I gae parley with my son.’

O she has ta’en her thro’ the ha’,And on her son began to ca’.

‘What did you wi’ that gay gold ringI bade you keep abune a’ thing?

‘What did you wi’ that little pen-knifeI bade you keep while you had life?

‘What did you wi’ the bonny beadsI bade you keep against your needs?’—

‘I gae them to a ladye gayI met i’ the grene-wood on a day.

‘But I wad gie a’ my ha’s and tours,I had that bright burd in my bours:

‘But I wad gie my very lifeI had that ladye to my wife!’

‘Now keep, my son, your ha’s and tours;Ye have that bright burd in your bours.

‘And keep, my son, your very life,Ye have that ladye to your wife.’

Now, or a month was come and gane,The ladye bore him a bonny son.

And it was well written on his breast-bane,‘Cospatrick is my father’s name.’

O rowe[83]my ladye in satin and silk,And wash my son in the morning milk!

FOOTNOTES:[69]bouted = bolted, sifted.[70]paramour =meaning here uncertain.[71]pall = fine cloth.[72]yett = gate.[73]into = in.[74]lee = lie.[75]carline = old woman.[76]ban = band, hinge.[77]laird or loun = squire or common fellow.[78]kevils = lots.[79]hende = courteous youth.[80]high-coll’d, laigh-coll’d = high-cut, low-cut.[81]carknet = necklace.[82]flang = flung about, rummaged violently.[83]rowe = roll, wrap.

[69]bouted = bolted, sifted.

[70]paramour =meaning here uncertain.

[71]pall = fine cloth.

[72]yett = gate.

[73]into = in.

[74]lee = lie.

[75]carline = old woman.

[76]ban = band, hinge.

[77]laird or loun = squire or common fellow.

[78]kevils = lots.

[79]hende = courteous youth.

[80]high-coll’d, laigh-coll’d = high-cut, low-cut.

[81]carknet = necklace.

[82]flang = flung about, rummaged violently.

[83]rowe = roll, wrap.

ISweet Willy’s ta’en him o’er the faem,He’s woo’d a wife and brought her hame.IIHe’s woo’d her for her yellow hair,But his mither wrought her mickle care;IIIAnd mickle dolour gar’d her drie[84],For lighter[85]she can never be.IVBut in her bower she sits wi’ pain,And Willy mourns o’er her in vain.VAnd to his mither he has gane;That vile rank witch of vilest kind.VIHe says: ‘My ladie has a cupWi’ gowd and silver set about.VII‘This goodlie gift shall be your ain,And let her be lighter o’ her young bairn.’—VIII‘Of her young bairn she’ll ne’er be lighter,Nor in her bower to shine the brighter:IX‘But she shall die and turn to clay,And you shall wed another may.’—X‘Another may I’ll marry nane,Another may I’ll ne’er bring hame.’XIBut sighing says his bonnie wife,‘I wish this was an end o’ my life!XII‘Yet gae ye unto your mither again,That vile rank witch of vilest kind.XIII‘And say: My ladie has a steed,The like o’ him ’s no in the lands of Leed.XIV‘For at ilka tett[86]o’ that horse’s maneThere’s a golden chess[87]and a bell ringíng.XV‘This goodlie gift shall be your ain,And let her be lighter o’ her young bairn.’—XVI‘O’ her young bairn she’ll ne’er be lighter,Nor in her bower to shine the brighter;XVII‘But she shall die and turn to clay,And ye shall wed another may.’—XVIII‘Another may I’ll marry nane,Another may I’ll ne’er bring hame.’XIXBut sighing says his bonnie wife,‘I wish this was an end o’ my life!XX‘Yet gae ye unto your mither again,That vile rank witch of vilest kind:XXI‘And say: My ladie has a girdle,It’s a’ red gowd unto the middle.XXII‘And ay at every silver hemHangs fifty silver bells and ten.XXIII‘That goodlie gift shall be your ain,But let her be lighter o’ her young bairn.’—XXIV‘O’ her young bairn she’s ne’er be lighter,Nor in her bower to shine the brighter:XXV‘But she shall die and turn to clay,And you shall wed another may.’—XXVI‘Another may I’ll never wed nane,Another may I’ll never bring hame.’XXVIIBut sighing says his bonnie wife,‘I wish this was an end o’ my life!’XXVIIIThen out and spake the Billy Blind[88]—He spake aye in a good time;XXIX‘Ye doe ye to the market-place,And there buy ye a loaf o’ wax;XXX‘Ye shape it bairn and bairnly like,And in twa glasses e’en ye’ll pit[89].XXXI‘And do ye to your mither then,And bid her come to your boy’s christ’nen,XXXII‘For dear’s the boy he’s been to you:Then notice weel what she shall do:XXXIII‘And do you stand a little away,And listen weel what she shall say.’XXXIVHe did him to the market-place,And there he bought a loaf o’ wax.XXXVHe shaped it bairn and bairnly-like,And in ’t twa glasses e’en he pat[90].XXXVIHe did him till his mither then,And bade her to his boy’s christ’nen.XXXVIIAnd he did stand a little forbye[91],And noticed well what she did say.XXXVIII‘O wha has loosed the nine witch-knotsThat was among that ladie’s locks?XXXIX‘And wha has ta’en out the kaims[92]o’ careThat hangs among that ladie’s hair?XL‘And wha’s ta’en down the bush o’ woodbineThat hangs atween her bower and mine?XLI‘And wha has kill’d the master kidThat ran aneath that ladie’s bed?XLII‘And wha has loosed her left-foot shee[93]And letten that ladie lighter be?’XLIIISyne Willy has loosed the nine witch-knotsThat was among his ladie’s locks:XLIVAnd Willy’s ta’en out the kaims o’ careThat hang among his ladie’s hair:XLVAnd Willy’s ta’en down the bush o’ woodbineThat hang atween her bower and thine:XLVIAnd Willy has kill’d the master kidThat ran aneath his ladie’s bed:XLVIIAnd Willy has loosed her left-foot shee,And letten his ladie lighter be.XLVIIIAnd now he’s gotten a bonny young son,And mickle grace be him upon!

Sweet Willy’s ta’en him o’er the faem,He’s woo’d a wife and brought her hame.

He’s woo’d her for her yellow hair,But his mither wrought her mickle care;

And mickle dolour gar’d her drie[84],For lighter[85]she can never be.

But in her bower she sits wi’ pain,And Willy mourns o’er her in vain.

And to his mither he has gane;That vile rank witch of vilest kind.

He says: ‘My ladie has a cupWi’ gowd and silver set about.

‘This goodlie gift shall be your ain,And let her be lighter o’ her young bairn.’—

‘Of her young bairn she’ll ne’er be lighter,Nor in her bower to shine the brighter:

‘But she shall die and turn to clay,And you shall wed another may.’—

‘Another may I’ll marry nane,Another may I’ll ne’er bring hame.’

But sighing says his bonnie wife,‘I wish this was an end o’ my life!

‘Yet gae ye unto your mither again,That vile rank witch of vilest kind.

‘And say: My ladie has a steed,The like o’ him ’s no in the lands of Leed.

‘For at ilka tett[86]o’ that horse’s maneThere’s a golden chess[87]and a bell ringíng.

‘This goodlie gift shall be your ain,And let her be lighter o’ her young bairn.’—

‘O’ her young bairn she’ll ne’er be lighter,Nor in her bower to shine the brighter;

‘But she shall die and turn to clay,And ye shall wed another may.’—

‘Another may I’ll marry nane,Another may I’ll ne’er bring hame.’

But sighing says his bonnie wife,‘I wish this was an end o’ my life!

‘Yet gae ye unto your mither again,That vile rank witch of vilest kind:

‘And say: My ladie has a girdle,It’s a’ red gowd unto the middle.

‘And ay at every silver hemHangs fifty silver bells and ten.

‘That goodlie gift shall be your ain,But let her be lighter o’ her young bairn.’—

‘O’ her young bairn she’s ne’er be lighter,Nor in her bower to shine the brighter:

‘But she shall die and turn to clay,And you shall wed another may.’—

‘Another may I’ll never wed nane,Another may I’ll never bring hame.’

But sighing says his bonnie wife,‘I wish this was an end o’ my life!’

Then out and spake the Billy Blind[88]—He spake aye in a good time;

‘Ye doe ye to the market-place,And there buy ye a loaf o’ wax;

‘Ye shape it bairn and bairnly like,And in twa glasses e’en ye’ll pit[89].

‘And do ye to your mither then,And bid her come to your boy’s christ’nen,

‘For dear’s the boy he’s been to you:Then notice weel what she shall do:

‘And do you stand a little away,And listen weel what she shall say.’

He did him to the market-place,And there he bought a loaf o’ wax.

He shaped it bairn and bairnly-like,And in ’t twa glasses e’en he pat[90].

He did him till his mither then,And bade her to his boy’s christ’nen.

And he did stand a little forbye[91],And noticed well what she did say.

‘O wha has loosed the nine witch-knotsThat was among that ladie’s locks?

‘And wha has ta’en out the kaims[92]o’ careThat hangs among that ladie’s hair?

‘And wha’s ta’en down the bush o’ woodbineThat hangs atween her bower and mine?

‘And wha has kill’d the master kidThat ran aneath that ladie’s bed?

‘And wha has loosed her left-foot shee[93]And letten that ladie lighter be?’

Syne Willy has loosed the nine witch-knotsThat was among his ladie’s locks:

And Willy’s ta’en out the kaims o’ careThat hang among his ladie’s hair:

And Willy’s ta’en down the bush o’ woodbineThat hang atween her bower and thine:

And Willy has kill’d the master kidThat ran aneath his ladie’s bed:

And Willy has loosed her left-foot shee,And letten his ladie lighter be.

And now he’s gotten a bonny young son,And mickle grace be him upon!

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