Volume 2 / Book 3 — BOOK III.
Reading edition
THE TWA BROTHERS.
From Jamieson's Popular Ballads, i. 59.
The ballad of the Twa Brothers, like many of the domestic tragedies with which it is grouped in this volume, is by no means the peculiar property of the island of Great Britain. It finds an exact counterpart in the Swedish ballad Sven i Rosengård, Svenska F. V., No. 67, Arwidsson, No. 87, A, B, which, together with a Finnish version of the same story, thought to be derived from the Swedish, will be found translated in our Appendix. Edward, in Percy's Reliques, has the same general theme, with the difference that a father is murdered instead of a brother. Motherwell[C] has printed a ballad (Son Davie) closely agreeing with Edward, except that the crime is again fratricide. He has also furnished another version of The Twa Brothers, in which the catastrophe is the consequence of an accident, and this circumstance has led the excellent editor to tax Jamieson with altering one of the most essential features of the ballad, by filling out a defective stanza with four lines that make one brother to have slain the other in a quarrel. Jamieson is, however, justified in giving this more melancholy character to the story, by the tenor of all the kindred pieces, and by the language of his own. It will be observed that both in Edward and Son Davie, the wicked act was not only deliberate, but was even instigated by the mother. The departure from the original is undoubtedly on the part of Motherwell's copy, which has softened down a shocking incident to accommodate a modern and refined sentiment. But Jamieson is artistically, as well as critically right, since the effect of the contrast of the remorse of one party and the generosity of the other is heightened by representing the terrible event as the result of ungoverned passion.
The three Scottish ballads mentioned above, here follow, and Motherwell's Twa Brothers will be found in the Appendix. Mr. Sharpe has inserted a third copy of this in his Ballad Book, p. 56. Another is said to be in The Scot's Magazine, for June, 1822. Placing no confidence in any of Allan Cunningham's souvenirs of Scottish Song, we simply state that one of them, composed upon the theme of the Twa Brothers, is included in the Songs of Scotland, ii. 16.
"The common title of this ballad is, The Twa Brothers, or, The Wood o' Warslin, but the words o' Warslin appearing to the editor, as will be seen in the text, to be a mistake for a-wrestling, he took the liberty of altering it accordingly. After all, perhaps, the title may be right; and the wood may afterwards have obtained its denomination from the tragical event here celebrated. A very few lines inserted by the editor to fill up chasms, [some of which have been omitted,] are inclosed in brackets; the text, in other respects, is given genuine, as it was taken down from the recitation of Mrs. Arrott." Jamieson.
"O will ye gae to the school, brother? Or will ye gae to the ba'? Or will ye gae to the wood a-warslin, To see whilk o's maun fa'?" "It's I winna gae to the school, brother;5 Nor will I gae to the ba'? But I will gae to the wood a-warslin; And it is you maun fa'." They warstled up, they warstled down, The lee-lang simmer's day;10 [And nane was near to part the strife, That raise atween them tway, Till out and Willie's drawn his sword, And did his brother slay.] "O lift me up upon your back;15 Tak me to yon wall fair; You'll wash my bluidy wounds o'er and o'er, And syne they'll bleed nae mair. "And ye'll tak aff my Hollin sark, And riv't frae gair to gair;20 Ye'll stap it in my bluidy wounds, And syne they'll bleed nae mair." He's liftit his brother upon his back; Ta'en him to yon wall fair; He's washed his bluidy wounds o'er and o'er,25 But ay they bled mair and mair. And he's ta'en aff his Hollin sark, And riven't frae gair to gair; He's stappit it in his bluidy wounds; But ay they bled mair and mair.30 "Ye'll lift me up upon your back, Tak me to Kirkland fair; Ye'll mak my greaf baith braid and lang, And lay my body there. "Ye'll lay my arrows at my head,35 My bent bow at my feet; My sword and buckler at my side, As I was wont to sleep. "Whan ye gae hame to your father, He'll speer for his son John:—40 Say, ye left him into Kirkland fair, Learning the school alone. "When ye gae hame to my sister, She'll speer for her brother John:— Ye'll say, ye left him in Kirkland fair,45 The green grass growin aboon. "Whan ye gae hame to my true love, She'll speer for her lord John:— Ye'll say, ye left him in Kirkland fair, But hame ye fear he'll never come."—50 He's gane hame to his father; He speered for his son John: "It's I left him into Kirkland fair, Learning the school alone." And whan he gaed hame to his sister,55 She speered for her brother John:— "It's I left him into Kirkland fair, The green grass growin aboon." And whan he gaed hame to his true love, She speer'd for her lord John:60 "It's I left him into Kirkland fair, And hame I fear he'll never come." "But whaten bluid's that on your sword, Willie? Sweet Willie, tell to me." "O it is the bluid o' my grey hounds;65 They wadna rin for me." "It's nae the bluid o' your hounds, Willie; Their bluid was never so red; But it is the bluid o' my true love, That ye hae slain indeed."70 That fair may wept, that fair may mourn'd, That fair may mourn'd and pin'd; "When every lady looks for her love, I ne'er need look for mine." "O whaten a death will ye die, Willie?75 Now, Willie, tell to me." "Ye'll put me in a bottomless boat, And I'll gae sail the sea." "Whan will ye come hame again, Willie? Now, Willie, tell to me."80 "Whan the sun and moon dances on the green, And that will never be."
32. "The house of Inchmurry, formerly called Kirkland, was built of old by the abbot of Holyrood-house, for his accommodation when he came to that country, and was formerly the minister's manse." Stat. Ac. of Scotland, vol. xiii. p. 506. J.
EDWARD, EDWARD.
"This curious Song was transmitted to the Editor by Sir David Dalrymple, Bart., late Lord Hailes."
Percy, Reliques, i. 61.
"Quhy dois zour brand sae drop w' bluid, Edward, Edward? Quhy dois zour brand sae drop wi' bluid, And quhy sae sad gang zee O?" "O I hae killed my hauke sae guid,5 Mither, mither: O I hae killed my hauke sae guid, And I had nae mair bot hee O." "Zour haukis bluid was nevir sae reid, Edward, Edward:10 Zour haukis bluid was nevir sae reid, My deir son I tell thee O." "O I hae killed my reid-roan steid, Mither, mither: O I hae killed my reid-roan steid,15 That erst was sae fair and free O." "Zour steid was auld, and ze hae gat mair, Edward, Edward: Zour steid was auld, and ze hae gat mair, Sum other dule ze drie O."20 "O I hae killed my fadir deir, Mither, mither: O I hae killed my fadir deir, Alas! and wae is mee O!" "And quhatten penance wul ze drie, for that,25 Edward, Edward? And quhatten penance will ze drie for that? My deir son, now tell me O." "Ile set my feit in zonder boat, Mither, mither:30 Ile set my feit in zonder boat, And Ile fare ovir the sea O." "And quhat wul ze doe wi' zour towirs and zour ha', Edward, Edward? And quhat wul ze doe wi' zour towirs and zour ha',35 That were sae fair to see O?" "Ile let thame stand til they doun fa', Mither, mither: Ile let thame stand til they doun fa', For here nevir mair maun I bee O."40 "And quhat wul ze leive to zour bairns and zour wife, Edward, Edward? And quhat wul ze leive to zour bairns and zour wife, Quhan ze gang ovir the sea O?" "The warldis room, late them beg throw life,45 Mither, mither: The warldis room, late them beg throw life, For thame nevir mair wul I see O." "And quhat wul ze leive to zour ain mither deir, Edward, Edward?50 And quhat wul ze leive to zour ain mither deir? My deir son, now tell me O." "The curse of hell frae me sall ze beir, Mither, mither: The curse of hell frae me sall ze beir,55 Sic counseils ze gave to me O."
SON DAVIE, SON DAVIE.
From the recitation of an old woman. Motherwell's Minstrelsy, 339.
"What bluid's that on thy coat lap? Son Davie! son Davie! What bluid's that on thy coat lap? And the truth come tell to me O." "It is the bluid of my great hawk,5 Mother lady! mother lady! It is the bluid of my great hawk, And the truth I hae tald to thee O." "Hawk's bluid was ne'er sae red, Son Davie! son Davie!10 Hawk's bluid was ne'er sae red, And the truth come tell to me O." "It is the bluid o' my grey hound, Mother lady! mother lady! It is the bluid of my grey hound,15 And it wudna rin for me O." "Hound's bluid was ne'er sae red, Son Davie! son Davie! Hound's bluid was ne'er sae red, And the truth come tell to me O."20 "It is the bluid o' my brother John, Mother lady! mother lady! It is the bluid o' my brother John, And the truth I hae tald to thee O." "What about did the plea begin?25 Son Davie! son Davie!" "It began about the cutting o' a willow wand, That would never hae been a tree O." "What death dost thou desire to die? Son Davie! son Davie!30 What death dost thou desire to die? And the truth come tell to me O." "I'll set my foot in a bottomless ship, Mother lady! mother lady! I'll set my foot in a bottomless ship,35 And ye'll never see mair o' me O." "What wilt thou leave to thy poor wife? Son Davie! son Davie!" "Grief and sorrow all her life, And she'll never get mair frae me O."40 "What wilt thou leave to thy auld son? Son Davie! son Davie!" "The weary warld to wander up and down, And he'll never get mair o' me O." "What wilt thou leave to thy mother dear?45 Son Davie! son Davie!" "A fire o' coals to burn her wi' hearty cheer, And she'll never get mair o' me O."
THE CRUEL SISTER.
The earliest printed copy of this ballad is the curious piece in Wit Restor'd, (1658,) called The Miller and the King's Daughter, improperly said to be a parody, by Jamieson and others. (See Appendix.) Pinkerton inserted in his Tragic Ballads, (p. 72,) a ballad on the subject, which preserves many genuine lines, but is half his own composition. Complete versions were published by Scott and Jamieson, and more recently a third has been furnished in Sharpe's Ballad Book, p. 30, and a fourth in Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland (given at the end of this volume). The burden of Mr. Sharpe's copy is nearly the same as that of the Cruel Mother, post, p. 372. Jamieson's copy had also this burden, but he exchanged it for the more popular, and certainly more tasteful, Binnorie. No ballad furnishes a closer link than this between the popular poetry of England and that of the other nations of Northern Europe. The same story is found in Icelandic, Norse, Faroish, and Estnish ballads, as well as in the Swedish and Danish, and a nearly related one in many other ballads or tales, German, Polish, Lithuanian, etc., etc.—See Svenska Folk-Visor, iii. 16, i. 81, 86, Arwidsson, ii. 139, and especially Den Talende Strengeleg, Grundtvig, No. 95, and the notes to Der Singende Knochen, K. u. H. Märchen, iii. 55, ed. 1856.
Of the edition in the Border Minstrelsy, Scott gives the following account, (iii. 287.)
"It is compiled from a copy in Mrs. Brown's MSS., intermixed with a beautiful fragment, of fourteen verses, transmitted to the Editor by J. C. Walker, Esq. the ingenious historian of the Irish bards. Mr. Walker, at the same time, favored the Editor with the following note: 'I am indebted to my departed friend, Miss Brook, for the foregoing pathetic fragment. Her account of it was as follows: This song was trans-scribed, several years ago, from the memory of an old woman, who had no recollection of the concluding verses; probably the beginning may also be lost, as it seems to commence abruptly.' The first verse and burden of the fragment ran thus:—
'O sister, sister, reach thy hand! Hey ho, my Nanny, O; And you shall be heir of all my land, While the swan swims bonney, O.'"
There were two sisters sat in a bour; Bínnorie, O Bínnorie; There came a knight to be their wooer; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. He courted the eldest with glove and ring,5 Binnorie, O Binnorie; But he lo'ed the youngest abune a' thing; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. He courted the eldest with broach and knife, Binnorie, O Binnorie;10 But he lo'ed the youngest abune his life; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. The eldest she was vexed sair, Binnorie, O Binnorie; And sore envied her sister fair;15 By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. The eldest said to the youngest ane, Binnorie, O Binnorie; "Will ye go and see our father's ships come in?" By the bonny milldams of Binnorie.20 She's ta'en her by the lily hand, Binnorie, O Binnorie; And led her down to the river strand; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. The youngest stude upon a stane,25 Binnorie, O Binnorie; The eldest came and pushed her in; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. She took her by the middle sma', Binnorie, O Binnorie;30 And dash'd her bonny back to the jaw; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. "O sister, sister, reach your hand, Binnorie, O Binnorie; And ye shall be heir of half my land."—35 By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. "O sister, I'll not reach my hand, Binnorie, O Binnorie; And I'll be heir of all your land; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie.40 "Shame fa' the hand that I should take, Binnorie, O Binnorie; It's twin'd me and my world's make."— By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. "O sister, reach me but your glove,45 Binnorie, O Binnorie; And sweet William shall be your love."— By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. "Sink on, nor hope for hand or glove! Binnorie, O Binnorie;50 And sweet William shall better be my love, By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. "Your cherry cheeks and your yellow hair, Binnorie, O Binnorie, Garr'd me gang maiden evermair."—55 By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. Sometimes she sunk, and sometimes she swam, Binnorie, O Binnorie; Until she cam to the miller's dam; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie.60 "O father, father, draw your dam! Binnorie, O Binnorie; There's either a mermaid, or a milk-white swan." By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. The miller hasted and drew his dam,65 Binnorie, O Binnorie; And there he found a drown'd woman; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. You could not see her yellow hair, Binnorie, O Binnorie;70 For gowd and pearls that were so rare; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. You could not see her middle sma', Binnorie, O Binnorie; Her gowden girdle was sae bra';75 By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. A famous harper passing by, Binnorie, O Binnorie; The sweet pale face he chanced to spy; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie.80 And when he looked that lady on, Binnorie, O Binnorie; He sigh'd and made a heavy moan; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. He made a harp of her breast-bone,85 Binnorie, O Binnorie; Whose sounds would melt a heart of stone; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. The strings he framed of her yellow hair, Binnorie, O Binnorie;90 Whose notes made sad the listening ear; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. He brought it to her father's hall, Binnorie, O Binnorie; And there was the court assembled all;95 By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. He laid his harp upon a stone, Binnorie, O Binnorie; And straight it began to play alone; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie.100 "O yonder sits my father, the king, Binnorie, O Binnorie; And yonder sits my mother, the queen;" By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. "And yonder stands my brother Hugh,105 Binnorie, O Binnorie; And by him my William, sweet and true." By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. But the last tune that the harp play'd then, Binnorie, O Binnorie;110 Was—"Woe to my sister, false Helen!" By the bonny milldams of Binnorie.
THE TWA SISTERS.
Verbatim (with one interpolated stanza) from the recitation of Mrs. Brown. Jamieson's Popular Ballads, i. 50.
There was twa sisters liv'd in a bower, Bínnorie, O Bínnorie! There came a knight to be their wooer, By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. He courted the eldest wi' glove and ring,5 Binnorie, O Binnorie! But he loved the youngest aboon a' thing, By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. He courted the eldest wi' broach and knife, Binnorie, O Binnorie!10 But he loved the youngest as his life, By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. The eldest she was vexed sair, Binnorie, O Binnorie! And sair envied her sister fair,15 By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. Intill her bower she coudna rest, Binnorie, O Binnorie! Wi' grief and spite she maistly brast, By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.20 Upon a morning fair and clear, Binnorie, O Binnorie! She cried upon her sister dear, By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. "O sister, come to yon sea strand,25 Binnorie, O Binnorie! And see our father's ships come to land," By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. She's ta'en her by the milk-white hand, Binnorie, O Binnorie!30 And led her down to yon sea strand, By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. The youngest stood upon a stane, Binnorie, O Binnorie! The eldest came and threw her in,35 By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. She took her by the middle sma' Binnorie, O Binnorie! And dashed her bonny back to the jaw, By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.40 "O sister, sister, tak my hand, Binnorie, O Binnorie! And I'se mak ye heir to a' my land, By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. "O sister, sister, tak my middle,45 Binnorie, O Binnorie! And ye's get my goud and my gouden girdle, By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. "O sister, sister, save my life, Binnorie, O Binnorie!50 And I swear I'se never be nae man's wife," By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. "Foul fa' the hand that I should tak, Binnorie, O Binnorie! It twin'd me o' my warldes mak,55 By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. "Your cherry cheeks and yellow hair Binnorie, O Binnorie! Gars me gang maiden for evermair," By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.60 Sometimes she sank, sometimes she swam, Binnorie, O Binnorie! Till she came to the mouth o' yon mill-dam, By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. O out it came the miller's son,65 Binnorie, O Binnorie! And saw the fair maid soummin in, By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. "O father, father, draw your dam, Binnorie, O Binnorie!70 There's either a mermaid or a swan," By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. [The miller quickly drew the dam, Binnorie, O Binnorie! And there he found a drown'd woman,75 By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.] "And sair and lang mat their teen last, Binnorie, O Binnorie! That wrought thee sic a dowie cast," By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie!80 You coudna see her yellow hair Binnorie, O Binnorie! For goud and pearl that was sae rare, By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. You coudna see her middle sma85 Binnorie, O Binnorie! For gouden girdle that was sae braw, By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. You coudna see her fingers white, Binnorie, O Binnorie!90 For gouden rings that were sae gryte, By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. And by there came a harper fine, Binnorie, O Binnorie! That harped to the king at dine,95 By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. Whan he did look that lady upon, Binnorie, O Binnorie! He sigh'd and made a heavy moan, By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.100 He's ta'en three locks o' her yellow hair, Binnorie, O Binnorie! And wi' them strung his harp sae fair, By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. The first tune it did play and sing,105 Binnorie, O Binnorie! Was, "Fareweel to my father the king," By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. The nexten tune that it play'd seen, Binnorie, O Binnorie!110 Was, "Fareweel to my mither the queen," By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. The thirden tune that it play'd then, Binnorie, O Binnorie! Was, "Wae to my sister, fair Ellen,"115 By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie!
LORD DONALD.
Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 110.
Like the two which preceded it, this ballad is common to the Gothic nations. It exists in a great variety of forms. Two stanzas, recovered by Burns, were printed in Johnson's Museum, i. 337; two others were inserted by Jamieson, in his Illustrations, p. 319. The Border Minstrelsy furnished five stanzas, giving the story, without the bequests. Allan Cunningham's alteration of Scott's version, (Scottish Songs, i. 285,) has one stanza more. Kinloch procured from the North of Scotland the following complete copy.
In the Appendix, we have placed a nursery song on the same subject, still familiar in Scotland, and translations of the corresponding German and Swedish ballads—both most remarkable cases of parallelism in popular romance.
Lord Donald, as Kinloch remarks, would seem to have been poisoned by eating toads prepared as fishes. Scott, in his introduction to Lord Randal, has quoted from an old chronicle, a fabulous account of the poisoning of King John by means of a cup of ale, in which the venom of this reptile had been infused.
"O whare hae ye been a' day, Lord Donald, my son? O whare hae ye been a' day, my jollie young man?" "I've been awa courtin':—mither, mak my bed sune, For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." "What wad ye hae for your supper, Lord Donald, my son?5 What wad ye hae for your supper, my jollie young man?" "I've gotten my supper:—mither, mak my bed sune, For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." "What did ye get for your supper, Lord Donald, my son? What did ye get for your supper, my jollie young man?"10 "A dish of sma' fishes:—mither, mak my bed sune, For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." "Whare gat ye the fishes, Lord Donald, my son? Whare gat ye the fishes, my jollie young man?" "In my father's black ditches:—mither, mak my bed sune,15 For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." "What like were your fishes, Lord Donald, my son? What like were your fishes, my jollie young man?" "Black backs and spreckl'd bellies:—mither, mak my bed sune, For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."20 "O I fear ye are poison'd, Lord Donald, my son! O I fear ye are poison'd, my jollie young man!" "O yes! I am poison'd:—mither mak my bed sune, For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." "What will ye leave to your father, Lord Donald my son?25 What will ye leave to your father, my jollie young man?" "Baith my houses and land:—mither, mak my bed sune, For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." "What will ye leave to your brither, Lord Donald, my son? What will ye leave to your brither, my jollie young man?"30 "My horse and the saddle:—mither, mak my bed sune, For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." "What will ye leave to your sister, Lord Donald, my son? What will ye leave to your sister, my jollie young man?" "Baith my gold box and rings:—mither, mak my bed sune,35 For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." "What will ye leave to your true-love, Lord Donald, my son? What will ye leave to your true-love, my jollie young man?" "The tow and the halter, for to hang on yon tree, And lat her hang there for the poysoning o' me."40
LORD RANDAL (B).
From Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, (iii. 49.)
Scott changed the name of the hero of this piece from Lord Ronald to Lord Randal, on the authority of a single copy. The change is unimportant, but the reason will appear curious, if we remember that the Swedes and Germans have the ballad as well as the Scotch;—"because, though the circumstances are so very different, I think it not impossible, that the ballad may have originally regarded the death of Thomas Randolph, or Randal, Earl of Murray, nephew to Robert Bruce, and governor of Scotland."
"O where hae ye been Lord Randal, my son? O where hae ye been, my handsome young man?"— "I hae been to the wild wood; mother make my bed soon, For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."— "Where gat ye your dinner, Lord Randal, my son?5 Where gat ye your dinner, my handsome young man?" "I dined wi' my true-love; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."— "What gat ye to your dinner, Lord Randal, my son? What gat ye to your dinner, my handsome young man?"—10 "I gat eels boil'd in broo; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."— "What became of your bloodhounds, Lord Randal, my son? What became of your bloodhounds, my handsome young man?"— "O they swell'd and they died; mother, make my bed soon,15 For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."— "O I fear ye are poison'd, Lord Randal, my son! O I fear ye are poisoned, my handsome young man!"— "O yes! I am poison'd; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie down."20
THE CRUEL BROTHER: OR, THE BRIDE'S TESTAMENT.
Of this ballad, which is still commonly recited and sung in Scotland, four copies have been published. The following is from Jamieson's collection, i. 66, where it was printed verbatim after the recitation of Mrs. Arrott. A copy from Aytoun's collection is subjoined, which is nearly the same as a less perfect one in Herd, i. 149, and the fourth, from Gilbert's Ancient Christmas Carols, &c., is in the Appendix to this volume.
The conclusion, or testamentary part, occurs very frequently in ballads, e. g. Den lillas Testamente, Svenska Folk-Visor, No. 68, translated in the Appendix to this volume, the end of Den onde Svigermoder, Danske Viser, i. 261, translated in Illustrations of Northern Antiquities, p. 344, Möen paa Baalet, Grundtvig, No. 109, A, st. 18-21, and Kong Valdemar og hans Söster, Grundtvig, No. 126, A, st. 101-105. See also Edward, and Lord Donald, p. 225, p. 244.
There was three ladies play'd at the ba', With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay; There came a knight, and play'd o'er them a', As the primrose spreads so sweetly. The eldest was baith tall and fair,5 With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay; But the youngest was beyond compare, As the primrose spreads so sweetly. The midmost had a gracefu' mien, With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay;10 But the youngest look'd like beauty's queen, As the primrose spreads so sweetly. The knight bow'd low to a' the three, With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay; But to the youngest he bent his knee,15 As the primrose spreads so sweetly. The lady turned her head aside, With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay; The knight he woo'd her to be his bride, As the primrose spreads so sweetly.20 The lady blush'd a rosy red, With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay; And said, "Sir knight, I'm o'er young to wed," As the primrose spreads so sweetly. "O lady fair, give me your hand,25 With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay; And I'll mak you ladie of a' my land," As the primrose spreads so sweetly. "Sir knight, ere you my favor win, With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay;30 Ye maun get consent frae a' my kin," As the primrose spreads so sweetly. He has got consent fra her parents dear, With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay; And likewise frae her sisters fair,35 As the primrose spreads so sweetly. He has got consent frae her kin each one, With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay; But forgot to speer at her brother John, As the primrose spreads so sweetly.40 Now, when the wedding day was come, With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay; The knight would take his bonny bride home, As the primrose spreads so sweetly. And many a lord and many a knight,45 With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay; Came to behold that lady bright, As the primrose spreads so sweetly. And there was nae man that did her see, With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay,50 But wished himself bridegroom to be, As the primrose spreads so sweetly. Her father dear led her down the stair, With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay; And her sisters twain they kiss'd her there,55 As the primrose spreads so sweetly. Her mother dear led her through the close, With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay; And her brother John set her on her horse, As the primrose spreads so sweetly.60 She lean'd her o'er the saddle-bow, With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay, To give him a kiss ere she did go, As the primrose spreads so sweetly. He has ta'en a knife, baith lang and sharp,65 With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay, And stabb'd the bonny bride to the heart, As the primrose spreads so sweetly. She hadna ridden half thro' the town, With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay,70 Until her heart's blood stained her gown, As the primrose spreads so sweetly. "Ride saftly on," said the best young man, With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay; "For I think our bonny bride looks pale and wan,"75 As the primrose spreads so sweetly. "O lead me gently up yon hill, With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay, And I'll there sit down, and make my will," As the primrose spreads so sweetly.80 "O what will you leave to your father dear?" With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay; "The silver-shod steed that brought me here," As the primrose spreads so sweetly. "What will you leave to your mother dear?"85 With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay; "My velvet pall and silken gear," As the primrose spreads so sweetly. "And what will ye leave to your sister Ann?" With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay;90 "My silken scarf, and my golden fan," As the primrose spreads so sweetly. "What will ye leave to your sister Grace?" With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay; "My bloody cloaths to wash and dress,"95 As the primrose spreads so sweetly. "What will ye leave to your brother John?" With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay; "The gallows-tree to hang him on," As the primrose spreads so sweetly.100 "What will ye leave to your brother John's wife?" With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay; "The wilderness to end her life," As the primrose spreads so sweetly. This fair lady in her grave was laid,105 With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay; And a mass was o'er her said, As the primrose spreads so sweetly. But it would have made your heart right sair, With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay;110 To see the bridegroom rive his hair, As the primrose spreads so sweetly.
THE CRUEL BROTHER.
From Aytoun's Ballads of Scotland (2d ed.), i. 232, "taken down from recitation." Found also, but with several stanzas wanting, in Herd's Scottish Songs, i. 149. The title in both collections is Fine Flowers i' the Valley. This part of the refrain is found in one of the versions of the Cruel Mother, p. 269. To Herd's copy are annexed two fragmentary stanzas with nearly the same burden as that of the foregoing ballad.
She louted down to gie a kiss, With a hey and a lily gay; He stuck his penknife in her hass, And the rose it smells so sweetly. "Ride up, ride up," cry'd the foremost man, With a hey and a lily gay; "I think our bride looks pale and wan," And the rose it smells so sweetly.
There were three sisters in a ha', Fine flowers i' the valley, There came three lords amang them a', The red, green, and the yellow. The first o' them was clad in red,5 Fine flowers i' the valley; "O lady, will ye be my bride?" Wi' the red, green, and the yellow. The second o' them was clad in green, Fine flowers i' the valley;10 "O lady, will ye be my queen?" Wi' the red, green, and the yellow. The third o' them was clad in yellow, Fine flowers i' the valley; "O lady, will ye be my marrow?"15 Wi' the red, green, and the yellow. "O ye maun ask my father dear," Fine flowers i' the valley, "Likewise the mother that did me bear," Wi' the red, green, and the yellow.20 "And ye maun ask my sister Ann," Fine flowers i' the valley; "And not forget my brother John," Wi' the red, green, and the yellow. "O I have asked thy father dear,"25 Fine flowers i' the valley, "Likewise the mother that did thee bear," Wi' the red, green, and the yellow. "And I have asked your sister Ann," Fine flowers i' the valley;30 "But I forgot your brother John;" Wi' the red, green, and the yellow. Now when the wedding-day was come, Fine flowers i' the valley, The knight would take his bonny bride home,35 Wi' the red, green, and the yellow. And mony a lord, and mony a knight, Fine flowers i' the valley, Cam to behold that lady bright, Wi' the red, green, and the yellow.40 There was nae man that did her see, Fine flowers i' the valley, But wished himsell bridegroom to be, Wi' the red, green, and the yellow. Her father led her down the stair,45 Fine flowers i' the valley, And her sisters twain they kissed her there, Wi' the red, green, and the yellow. Her mother led her through the close, Fine flowers i' the valley;50 Her brother John set her on her horse, Wi' the red, green, and the yellow. "You are high and I am low," Fine flowers i' the valley; "Give me a kiss before you go,"55 Wi' the red, green, and the yellow. She was louting down to kiss him sweet, Fine flowers i' the valley; When wi' his knife he wounded her deep, Wi' the red, green, and the yellow.60 She hadna ridden through half the town, Fine flowers i' the valley, Until her heart's blood stained her gown, Wi' the red, green, and the yellow. "Ride saftly on," said the best young man,65 Fine flowers i' the valley; "I think our bride looks pale and wan!" Wi' the red, green, and the yellow. "O lead me over into yon stile," Fine flowers i' the valley,70 "That I may stop and breathe awhile," Wi' the red, green, and the yellow. "O lead me over into yon stair," Fine flowers i' the valley, "For there I'll lie and bleed nae mair,"75 Wi' the red, green, and the yellow. "O what will you leave to your father dear?" Fine flowers i' the valley; "The siller-shod steed that brought me here," Wi' the red, green, and the yellow.80 "What will you leave to your mother dear?" Fine flowers i' the valley; "My velvet pall, and my pearlin' gear," Wi' the red, green, and the yellow. "What will you leave to your sister Ann?"85 Fine flowers i' the valley; "My silken gown that stands its lane," Wi' the red, green, and the yellow. "What will you leave to your sister Grace?" Fine flowers i' the valley;90 "My bluidy shirt to wash and dress," Wi' the red, green, and the yellow. "What will you leave to your brother John?" Fine flowers i' the valley; "The gates o' hell to let him in,"95 Wi' the red, green, and the yellow.
LADY ANNE.
From Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, iii. 18.
"This ballad was communicated to me by Mr. Kirkpatrick Sharpe of Hoddom, who mentions having copied it from an old magazine. Although it has probably received some modern corrections, the general turn seems to be ancient, and corresponds with that of a fragment which I have often heard sung in my childhood."
The version to which Sir Walter Scott refers, and part of which he proceeds to quote, had been printed in Johnson's Museum. It is placed immediately after the present, with other copies of the ballad from Motherwell and Kinloch.
In Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland there are two more, which are repeated with slight variations in the XVII. Vol. of the Percy Society, p. 46, p. 50. Both will be found in the Appendix. The copy in Buchan's Gleanings, p. 90, seems to be taken from Scott. Smith's Scottish Minstrel, iv. 33, affords still another variety.
In German, Die Kindesmörderin, Erk's Liederhort, No. 41, five copies; Erlach, iv. 148; Hoffmann, Schlesische V. L., No. 31, 32; Wunderhorn, ii. 202; Zuccalmaglio, No. 97; Meinert, No. 81; Simrock, p. 87. (But some of these are repetitions.) Wendish, Haupt and Schmaler, I. No. 292, and with considerable differences, I. No. 290, II. 197. This last reference is taken from Grundtvig, ii. 531.
Fair Lady Anne sate in her bower, Down by the greenwood side, And the flowers did spring, and the birds did sing, 'Twas the pleasant May-day tide. But fair Lady Anne on Sir William call'd,5 With the tear grit in her ee, "O though thou be fause, may Heaven thee guard, In the wars ayont the sea!"— Out of the wood came three bonnie boys, Upon the simmer's morn,10 And they did sing and play at the ba', As naked as they were born. "O seven lang years wad I sit here, Amang the frost and snaw, A' to hae but ane o' these bonnie boys,15 A playing at the ba'."— Then up and spake the eldest boy, "Now listen, thou fair ladie, And ponder well the rede that I tell, Then make ye a choice of the three.20 "'Tis I am Peter, and this is Paul, And that ane, sae fair to see, But a twelve-month sinsyne to paradise came, To join with our companie."— "O I will hae the snaw-white boy,25 The bonniest of the three."— "And if I were thine, and in thy propine, O what wad ye do to me?"— "'Tis I wad clead thee in silk and gowd, And nourice thee on my knee."—30 "O mither! mither! when I was thine, Sic kindness I couldna see. "Beneath the turf, where now I stand, The fause nurse buried me; The cruel penknife sticks still in my heart,35 And I come not back to thee."— * * * * * * *
FINE FLOWERS IN THE VALLEY.
From Johnson's Musical Museum, p. 331.
The first line of the burden is found also in The Cruel Brother, p. 258.
She sat down below a thorn, Fine flowers in the valley; And there she has her sweet babe born, And the green leaves they grow rarely. "Smile na sae sweet, my bonnie babe,5 Fine flowers in the valley, And ye smile sae sweet, ye'll smile me dead," And the green leaves they grow rarely. She's taen out her little penknife, Fine flowers in the valley,10 And twinn'd the sweet babe o' its life, And the green leaves they grow rarely. She's howket a grave by the light o' the moon, Fine flowers in the valley, And there she's buried her sweet babe in,15 And the green leaves they grow rarely. As she was going to the church, Fine flowers in the valley, She saw a sweet babe in the porch, And the green leaves they grow rarely.20 "O sweet babe, and thou were mine, Fine flowers in the valley, I wad cleed thee in the silk so fine," And the green leaves they grow rarely. "O mother dear, when I was thine,25 Fine flowers in the valley, Ye did na prove to me sae kind," And the green leaves they grow rarely.
THE CRUEL MOTHER.
From Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 161.
She leaned her back unto a thorn, Three, three, and three by three; And there she has her two babes born, Three, three, and thirty-three. She took frae 'bout her ribbon-belt,5 And there she bound them hand and foot. She has ta'en out her wee penknife, And there she ended baith their life. She has howked a hole baith deep and wide, She has put them in baith side by side.10 She has covered them o'er wi' a marble stane, Thinking she would gang maiden hame. As she was walking by her father's castle wa', She saw twa pretty babes playing at the ba'. "O bonnie babes! gin ye were mine,15 I would dress you up in satin fine! "O I would dress you in the silk, And wash you ay in morning milk!" "O cruel mother! we were thine, And thou made us to wear the twine.20 "O cursed mother! heaven's high, And that's where thou will ne'er win nigh. "O cursed mother! hell is deep, And there thou'll enter step by step."
THE CRUEL MOTHER.
From Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 46.
Three stanzas of a Warwickshire version closely resembling Kinloch's are given in Notes and Queries, vol. viii. p. 358.
There lives a lady in London— All alone, and alonie; She's gane wi' bairn to the clerk's son— Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie. She has tane her mantel her about—5 All alone, and alonie; She's gane aff to the gude greenwud— Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie. She has set her back until an aik— All alone, and alonie;10 First it bowed, and syne it brake— Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie. She has set her back until a brier— All alone, and alonie; Bonnie were the twa boys she did bear—15 Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie. But out she's tane a little penknife— All alone, and alonie; And she's parted them and their sweet life— Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie.20 She's aff unto her father's ha'— All alone, and alonie; She seem'd the lealest maiden amang them a'— Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie. As she lookit our the castle wa'—25 All alone, and alonie; She spied twa bonnie boys playing at the ba'— Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie. "O an thae twa babes were mine"— All alone, and alonie;30 "They should wear the silk and the sabelline"— Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie. "O mother dear, when we were thine," All alone, and alonie; "We neither wore the silks nor the sabelline"—35 Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie. "But out ye took a little penknife"— All alone, and alonie; "An ye parted us and our sweet life"— Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie.40 "But now we're in the heavens hie"— All alone, and alonie; "And ye have the pains o' hell to dree"— Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie.
MAY COLVIN, OR FALSE SIR JOHN.
In the very ancient though corrupted ballads of Lady Isabel and the Elf-Knight, and The Water o' Wearie's Well (vol. i. p. 195, 198), an Elf or a Merman occupies the place here assigned to False Sir John. Perhaps May Colvin is the result of the same modernizing process by which Hynde Etin has been converted into Young Hastings the Groom (vol. i. p. 294, 189). The coincidence of the name with Clerk Colvill, in vol. i. p. 192, may have some significance. This, however, would not be the opinion of Grundtvig, who regards the Norse and German ballads resembling Lady Isabel, &c., as compounded of two independent stories. If this be so, then we should rather say that a ballad similar to May Colvin has been made to furnish the conclusion to the pieces referred to.
The story of this ballad has apparently some connection with Bluebeard, but it is hard to say what the connection is. (See Fitchers Vogel in the Grimms' K. u. H.-Märchen, No. 46, and notes.) The versions of the ballad in other languages are all but innumerable: e. g. Röfvaren Rymer, Röfvaren Brun, Svenska F.-V., No. 82, 83; Den Falske Riddaren, Arwidsson, No. 44; Ulrich und Aennchen, Schön Ulrich u. Roth-Aennchen, Schön Ulrich und Rautendelein, Ulinger, Herr Halewyn, etc., in Wunderhorn, i. 274; Uhland, 141-157 (four copies); Erk, Liederhort, 91, 93; Erlach, iii. 450; Zuccalmaglio, Deutsche Volkslieder, No. 15; Hoffmann, Schlesische Volkslieder, No. 12, 13, and Niederländische Volkslieder, No. 9, 10; etc. etc. A very brief Italian ballad will be found in the Appendix, p. 391, which seems to have the same theme. In some of the ballads the treacherous seducer is an enchanter, who prevails upon the maid to go with him by the power of a spell.
May Colvin was first published in Herd's Collection, vol. i. 153. The copy here given is one obtained from recitation by Motherwell, (Minstrelsy, p. 67,) collated by him with that of Herd. It is defective at the end. The other versions in Sharpe's Ballad Book, p. 45, and Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, ii. 45, though they are provided with some sort of conclusion, are not worth reprinting. A modernized version, styled The Outlandish Knight, is inserted in the Notes to Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads, Percy Society, vol. xvii. 101.
Carlton Castle, on the coast of Carrick, is affirmed by the country people, according to Mr. Chambers, to have been the residence of the perfidious knight, and a precipice overhanging the sea, called "Fause Sir John's Loup," is pointed out as the place where he was wont to drown his wives. May Colvin is equally well ascertained to have been "a daughter of the family of Kennedy of Colzean, now represented by the Earl of Cassilis." Buchan's version assigns a different locality to the transaction—that of "Binyan's Bay," which, says the editor, is the old name of the mouth of the river Ugie.
False Sir John a wooing came To a maid of beauty fair; May Colvin was the lady's name, Her father's only heir. He's courted her butt, and he's courted her ben,5 And he's courted her into the ha', Till once he got this lady's consent To mount and ride awa'. She's gane to her father's coffers, Where all his money lay;10 And she's taken the red, and she's left the white, And so lightly as she tripped away. She's gane down to her father's stable, Where all his steeds did stand; And she's taken the best, and she's left the warst,15 That was in her father's land. He rode on, and she rode on, They rode a lang simmer's day, Until they came to a broad river, An arm of a lonesome sea.20 "Loup off the steed," says false Sir John; "Your bridal bed you see; For it's seven king's daughters I have drowned here, And the eighth I'll out make with thee. "Cast off, cast off your silks so fine,25 And lay them on a stone, For they are o'er good and o'er costly To rot in the salt sea foam. "Cast off, cast off your Holland smock, And lay it on this stone,30 For it is too fine and o'er costly To rot in the salt sea foam." "O turn you about, thou false Sir John, And look to the leaf o' the tree; For it never became a gentleman35 A naked woman to see." He's turn'd himself straight round about, To look to the leaf o' the tree; She's twined her arms about his waist, And thrown him into the sea.40 "O hold a grip of me, May Colvin, For fear that I should drown; I'll take you hame to your father's gates, And safely I'll set you down." "O lie you there, thou false Sir John,45 O lie you there," said she; "For you lie not in a caulder bed Than the ane you intended for me." So she went on her father's steed, As swift as she could flee,50 And she came hame to her father's gates At the breaking of the day. Up then spake the pretty parrot: "May Colvin, where have you been? What has become of false Sir John,55 That wooed you so late yestreen?" Up then spake the pretty parrot, In the bonnie cage where it lay: "O what hae ye done with the false Sir John, That he behind you does stay?60 "He wooed you butt, he wooed you ben, He wooed you into the ha', Until he got your own consent For to mount and gang awa'." "O hold your tongue, my pretty parrot,65 Lay not the blame upon me; Your cage will be made of the beaten gold, And the spakes of ivorie." Up then spake the king himself, In the chamber where he lay:70 "O what ails the pretty parrot, That prattles so long ere day?" "It was a cat cam to my cage door; I thought 't would have worried me; And I was calling on fair May Colvin75 To take the cat from me."
BABYLON, OR, THE BONNIE BANKS O' FORDIE.
"This ballad is given from two copies obtained from recitation, which differ but little from each other. Indeed, the only variation is in the verse where the outlawed brother unweetingly slays his sister. One reading is,—
'He's taken out his wee penknife, Hey how bonnie; And he's twined her o' her ain sweet life, On the bonnie banks o' Fordie.'
The other reading is that adopted in the text. This ballad is popular in the southern parishes of Perthshire: but where the scene is laid the editor has been unable to ascertain. Nor has any research of his enabled him to throw farther light on the history of its hero with the fantastic name, than what the ballad itself supplies." Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 88.
Another version is subjoined, from Kinloch's collection.
This ballad is found in Danish; Herr Truels's Doettre, Danske Viser, No. 164. In a note the editor endeavors to show that the story is based on fact!
There were three ladies lived in a bower, Eh vow bonnie, And they went out to pull a flower, On the bonnie banks o' Fordie. They hadna pu'ed a flower but ane,5 Eh vow bonnie, When up started to them a banisht man, On the bonnie banks o' Fordie. He's ta'en the first sister by her hand, Eh vow bonnie,10 And he's turned her round and made her stand, On the bonnie banks o' Fordie. "It's whether will ye be a rank robber's wife, Eh vow bonnie, Or will ye die by my wee penknife,"15 On the bonnie banks o' Fordie? "It's I'll not be a rank robber's wife, Eh vow bonnie, But I'll rather die by your wee penknife," On the bonnie banks o' Fordie.20 He's killed this may and he's laid her by, Eh vow bonnie, For to bear the red rose company, On the bonnie banks o' Fordie. He's taken the second ane by the hand,25 Eh vow bonnie, And he's turned her round and made her stand, On the bonnie banks o' Fordie. "It's whether will ye be a rank robber's wife, Eh vow bonnie,30 Or will ye die by my wee penknife," On the bonnie banks o' Fordie? "I'll not be a rank robber's wife, Eh vow bonnie, But I'll rather die by your wee penknife,"35 On the bonnie banks o' Fordie. He's killed this may and he's laid her by, Eh vow bonnie, For to bear the red rose company, On the bonnie banks o' Fordie.40 He's taken the youngest ane by the hand, Eh vow bonnie, And he's turned her round and made her stand, On the bonnie banks o' Fordie. Says, "Will ye be a rank robber's wife,45 Eh vow bonnie, Or will ye die by my wee penknife," On the bonnie banks o' Fordie? "I'll not be a rank robber's wife, Eh vow bonnie,50 Nor will I die by your wee penknife, On the bonnie banks o' Fordie. "For I hae a brother in this wood, Eh vow bonnie, And gin ye kill me, it's he'll kill thee,"55 On the bonnie banks o' Fordie. "What's thy brother's name? come tell to me," Eh vow bonnie; "My brother's name is Babylon," On the bonnie banks o' Fordie.60 "O sister, sister, what have I done, Eh vow bonnie? O have I done this ill to thee, On the bonnie banks o' Fordie? "O since I've done this evil deed,65 Eh vow bonnie, Good sall never be seen o' me," On the bonnie banks o' Fordie. He's taken out his wee penknife, Eh vow bonnie,70 And he's twyned himsel o' his ain sweet life, On the bonnie banks o' Fordie.
DUKE OF PERTH'S THREE DAUGHTERS.
From Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 212.
The Duke o' Perth had three daughters, Elizabeth, Margaret, and fair Marie; And Elizabeth's to the greenwud gane, To pu' the rose and the fair lilie. But she hadna pu'd a rose, a rose,5 A double rose, but barely three, Whan up and started a Loudon lord, Wi' Loudon hose, and Loudon sheen. "Will ye be called a robber's wife? Or will ye be stickit wi' my bloody knife?10 For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, For pu'in them sae fair and free." "Before I'll be called a robber's wife, I'll rather be stickit wi' your bloody knife, For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie,15 For pu'in them sae fair and free." Then out he's tane his little penknife, And he's parted her and her sweet life, And thrown her o'er a bank o' brume, There never more for to be found.20 The Duke o' Perth had three daughters, Elizabeth, Margaret, and fair Marie; And Margaret's to the greenwud gane, To pu' the rose and the fair lilie. She hadna pu'd a rose, a rose,25 A double rose, but barely three, When up and started a Loudon lord, Wi' Loudon hose, and Loudon sheen. "Will ye be called a robber's wife? Or will ye be stickit wi' my bloody knife?30 For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, For pu'in them sae fair and free." "Before I'll be called a robber's wife, I'll rather be sticket wi' your bloody knife, For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie,35 For pu'in them sae fair and free." Then out he's tane his little penknife, And he's parted her and her sweet life, For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, For pu'in them sae fair and free.40 The Duke o' Perth had three daughters, Elizabeth, Margaret, and fair Marie; And Mary's to the greenwud gane, To pu' the rose and the fair lilie. She hadna pu'd a rose, a rose,45 A double rose, but barely three, When up and started a Loudon lord, Wi' Loudon hose, and Loudon sheen. "O will ye be called a robber's wife? Or will ye be stickit wi' my bloody knife?50 For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, For pu'in them sae fair and free." "Before I'll be called a robber's wife, I'll rather be stickit wi' your bloody knife, For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie,55 For pu'in them sae fair and free." But just as he took out his knife, To tak frae her her ain sweet life, Her brother John cam ryding bye, And this bloody robber he did espy.60 But when he saw his sister fair, He kenn'd her by her yellow hair; He call'd upon his pages three, To find this robber speedilie. "My sisters twa that are dead and gane,65 For whom we made a heavy maene, It's you that's twinn'd them o' their life, And wi' your cruel bloody knife. Then for their life ye sair shall dree: Ye sall be hangit on a tree,70 Or thrown into the poison'd lake, To feed the toads and rattle-snake."
JELLON GRAME.
From Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, iii. 162.
"This ballad is published from tradition, with some conjectural emendations. It is corrected by a copy in Mrs. Brown's MS., from which it differs in the concluding stanzas. Some verses are apparently modernized.
"Jellon seems to be the same name with Jyllian, or Julian. 'Jyl of Brentford's Testament' is mentioned in Warton's History of Poetry, vol. ii. p. 40. The name repeatedly occurs in old ballads, sometimes as that of a man, at other times as that of a woman. Of the former is an instance in the ballad of The Knight and the Shepherd's Daughter. [See this collection, vol. iii. p. 253.]
'Some do call me Jack, sweetheart, And some do call me Jille.'
"Witton Gilbert, a village four miles west of Durham, is, throughout the bishopric, pronounced Witton Jilbert. We have also the common name of Giles, always in Scotland pronounced Jill. For Gille, or Juliana, as a female name, we have Fair Gillian of Croyden, and a thousand authorities. Such being the case, the Editor must enter his protest against the conversion of Gil Morrice into Child Maurice, an epithet of chivalry. All the circumstances in that ballad argue, that the unfortunate hero was an obscure and very young man, who had never received the honour of knighthood. At any rate there can be no reason, even were internal evidence totally wanting, for altering a well-known proper name, which, till of late years, has been the uniform title of the ballad." Scott.
May-a-Row, in Buchan's larger collection, ii. 231, is another, but an inferior, version of this ballad.
O Jellon Grame sat in Silverwood, He sharp'd his broadsword lang; And he has call'd his little foot-page An errand for to gang. "Win up, my bonny boy," he says,5 "As quickly as ye may; For ye maun gang for Lillie Flower Before the break of day."— The boy has buckled his belt about, And through the green-wood ran;10 And he came to the ladye's bower Before the day did dawn. "O sleep ye, wake ye, Lillie Flower? The red sun's on the rain: Ye're bidden come to Silverwood,15 But I doubt ye'll never win hame."— She hadna ridden a mile, a mile, A mile but barely three, Ere she came to a new-made grave, Beneath a green aik tree.20 O then up started Jellon Grame, Out of a bush thereby; "Light down, light down, now, Lillie Flower, For it's here that ye maun lye."— She lighted aff her milk-white steed,25 And kneel'd upon her knee; "O mercy, mercy, Jellon Grame, For I'm no prepared to die! "Your bairn, that stirs between my sides, Maun shortly see the light:30 But to see it weltering in my blood, Would be a piteous sight."— "O should I spare your life," he says, "Until that bairn were born, Full weel I ken your auld father35 Would hang me on the morn."— "O spare my life, now, Jellon Grame! My father ye needna dread: I'll keep my babe in gude green-wood, Or wi' it I'll beg my bread."—40 He took no pity on Lillie Flower, Though she for life did pray; But pierced her through the fair body As at his feet she lay. He felt nae pity for Lillie Flower,45 Where she was lying dead; But he felt some for the bonny bairn, That lay weltering in her bluid. Up has he ta'en that bonny boy, Given him to nurses nine;50 Three to sleep, and three to wake, And three to go between. And he bred up that bonny boy, Call'd him his sister's son; And he thought no eye could ever see55 The deed that he had done. O so it fell upon a day, When hunting they might be, They rested them in Silverwood, Beneath that green aik tree.60 And many were the green-wood flowers Upon the grave that grew, And marvell'd much that bonny boy To see their lovely hue. "What's paler than the prymrose wan?65 What's redder than the rose? What's fairer than the lilye flower On this wee know that grows?"— O out and answer'd Jellon Grame, And he spak hastilie—70 "Your mother was a fairer flower, And lies beneath this tree. "More pale she was, when she sought my grace, Than prymrose pale and wan; And redder than rose her ruddy heart's blood,75 That down my broadsword ran."— Wi' that the boy has bent his bow, It was baith stout and lang; An thro' and thro' him, Jellon Grame, He gar'd an arrow gang.80 Says,—"Lie ye there, now, Jellon Grame! My malisoun gang you wi'! The place that my mother lies buried in Is far too good for thee."
1. Silverwood, mentioned in this ballad, occurs in a medley MS. song, which seems to have been copied from the first edition of the Aberdeen Cantus, penes John G. Dalyell, Esq. advocate. One line only is cited, apparently the beginning of some song:—
"Silverwood, gin ye were mine." Scott.
YOUNG JOHNSTONE.
A fragment of this fine ballad (which is commonly called The Cruel Knight) was published by Herd, (i. 222,) and also by Pinkerton, (Select Scottish Ballads, i. 69,) with variations. Finlay constructed a nearly complete edition from two recited copies, but suppressed some lines. (Scottish Ballads, ii. 72.) The present copy is one which Motherwell obtained from recitation, with a few verbal emendations by that editor from Finlay's.
With respect to the sudden and strange catastrophe, Motherwell remarks:—
"The reciters of old ballads frequently supply the best commentaries upon them, when any obscurity or want of connection appears in the poetical narrative. This ballad, as it stands, throws no light on young Johnstone's motive for stabbing his lady; but the person from whose lips it was taken down alleged that the barbarous act was committed unwittingly, through young Johnstone's suddenly waking from sleep, and, in that moment of confusion and alarm, unhappily mistaking his mistress for one of his pursuers. It is not improbable but the ballad may have had, at one time, a stanza to the above effect, the substance of which is still remembered, though the words in which it was couched have been forgotten." Minstrelsy, p. 193.
Buchan's version, (Lord John's Murder, ii. 20,) it will be seen, supplies this deficiency.
Young Johnstone and the young Col'nel Sat drinking at the wine: "O gin ye wad marry my sister, It's I wad marry thine." "I wadna marry your sister,5 For a' your houses and land; But I'll keep her for my leman, When I come o'er the strand. "I wadna marry your sister, For a' your gowd so gay;10 But I'll keep her for my leman, When I come by the way." Young Johnstone had a nut-brown sword, Hung low down by his gair, And he ritted it through the young Col'nel,15 That word he ne'er spak mair. But he's awa' to his sister's bower, He's tirled at the pin: "Whare hae ye been, my dear brither, Sae late a coming in?"20 "I hae been at the school, sister, Learning young clerks to sing." "I've dreamed a dreary dream this night, I wish it may be for good; They were seeking you with hawks and hounds,25 And the young Col'nel was dead." "Hawks and hounds they may seek me, As I trow well they be; For I have killed the young Col'nel, And thy own true love was he."30 "If ye hae killed the young Col'nel, O dule and wae is me; But I wish ye may be hanged on a hie gallows, And hae nae power to flee." And he's awa' to his true love's bower,35 He's tirled at the pin: "Whar hae ye been, my dear Johnstone, Sae late a coming in?" "It's I hae been at the school," he says, "Learning young clerks to sing."40 "I have dreamed a dreary dream," she says, "I wish it may be for good; They were seeking you with hawks and hounds, And the young Col'nel was dead." "Hawks and hounds they may seek me,45 As I trow well they be; For I hae killed the young Col'nel, And thy ae brother was he." "If ye hae killed the young Col'nel, O dule and wae is me;50 But I care the less for the young Col'nel, If thy ain body be free. "Come in, come in, my dear Johnstone, Come in and take a sleep; And I will go to my casement,55 And carefully I will thee keep." He had not weel been in her bower door, No not for half an hour, When four-and-twenty belted knights Came riding to the bower.60 "Well may you sit and see, Lady, Well may you sit and say; Did you not see a bloody squire Come riding by this way?" "What colour were his hawks?" she says,65 "What colour were his hounds? What colour was the gallant steed That bore him from the bounds?" "Bloody, bloody were his hawks, And bloody were his hounds;70 But milk-white was the gallant steed That bore him from the bounds." "Yes, bloody, bloody were his hawks, And bloody were his hounds; And milk-white was the gallant steed75 That bore him from the bounds. "Light down, light down now, gentlemen, And take some bread and wine; And the steed be swift that he rides on, He's past the brig o' Lyne."80 "We thank you for your bread, fair Lady, We thank you for your wine; But I wad gie thrice three thousand pound, That bloody knight was ta'en." "Lie still, lie still, my dear Johnstone,85 Lie still and take a sleep; For thy enemies are past and gone, And carefully I will thee keep." But young Johnstone had a little wee sword, Hung low down by his gair,90 And he stabbed it in fair Annet's breast, A deep wound and a sair. "What aileth thee now, dear Johnstone? What aileth thee at me? Hast thou not got my father's gold,95 Bot and my mither's fee?" "Now live, now live, my dear Ladye, Now live but half an hour, And there's no a leech in a' Scotland But shall be in thy bower."100 "How can I live, how shall I live? Young Johnstone, do not you see The red, red drops o' my bonny heart's blood Rin trinkling down my knee? "But take thy harp into thy hand,105 And harp out owre yon plain, And ne'er think mair on thy true love Than if she had never been." He hadna weel been out o' the stable, And on his saddle set,110 Till four-and-twenty broad arrows Were thrilling in his heart.
15. In the copy obtained by the Editor, the word "ritted" did not occur, instead of which the word "stabbed" was used. The "nut-brown sword" was also changed into "a little small sword." Motherwell.
96. Buchan's version furnishes the necessary explanation of Young Johnstone's apparent cruelty:—
"Ohon, alas, my lady gay, To come sae hastilié! I thought it was my deadly foe, Ye had trysted in to me."
YOUNG BENJIE.
From the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, iii. 10. Bondsey and Maisry, another version of the same story, from Buchan's collection, is given in the Appendix.
"In this ballad the reader will find traces of a singular superstition, not yet altogether discredited in the wilder parts of Scotland. The lykewake, or watching a dead body, in itself a melancholy office, is rendered, in the idea of the assistants, more dismally awful, by the mysterious horrors of superstition. In the interval betwixt death and interment, the disembodied spirit is supposed to hover round its mortal habitation, and, if invoked by certain rites, retains the power of communicating, through its organs, the cause of its dissolution. Such inquiries, however, are always dangerous, and never to be resorted to, unless the deceased is suspected to have suffered foul play, as it is called. It is the more unsafe to tamper with this charm in an unauthorized manner, because the inhabitants of the infernal regions are, at such periods, peculiarly active. One of the most potent ceremonies in the charm, for causing the dead body to speak, is, setting the door ajar, or half open. On this account, the peasants of Scotland sedulously avoid leaving the door ajar, while a corpse lies in the house. The door must either be left wide open, or quite shut; but the first is always preferred, on account of the exercise of hospitality usual on such occasions. The attendants must be likewise careful never to leave the corpse for a moment alone, or, if it is left alone, to avoid, with a degree of superstitious horror, the first sight of it.
"The following story, which is frequently related by the peasants of Scotland, will illustrate the imaginary danger of leaving the door ajar. In former times, a man and his wife lived in a solitary cottage, on one of the extensive Border fells. One day the husband died suddenly; and his wife, who was equally afraid of staying alone by the corpse, or leaving the dead body by itself, repeatedly went to the door, and looked anxiously over the lonely moor for the sight of some person approaching. In her confusion and alarm she accidentally left the door ajar, when the corpse suddenly started up, and sat in the bed, frowning and grinning at her frightfully. She sat alone, crying bitterly, unable to avoid the fascination of the dead man's eye, and too much terrified to break the sullen silence, till a Catholic priest, passing over the wild, entered the cottage. He first set the door quite open, then put his little finger in his mouth, and said the paternoster backwards; when the horrid look of the corpse relaxed, it fell back on the bed, and behaved itself as a dead man ought to do.
"The ballad is given from tradition. I have been informed by a lady, [Miss Joanna Baillie,] of the highest literary eminence, that she has heard a ballad on the same subject, in which the scene was laid upon the banks of the Clyde. The chorus was,
"O Bothwell banks bloom bonny,"
and the watching of the dead corpse was said to have taken place in Bothwell church." Scott.
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,5 And loved fu' constantlie; But aye the mair when they fell out, The sairer was their plea. And they hae quarrell'd on a day, Till Marjorie's heart grew wae;10 And she said she'd chuse another luve, And let young Benjie gae. And he was stout, and proud-hearted, And thought o't bitterlie; And he's gane by the wan moonlight,15 To meet his Marjorie. "O open, open, my true love, O open, and let me in!"— "I darena open, young Benjie, My three brothers are within."—20 "Ye lied, ye lied, ye 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,25 That I have loved sae lang! It sets ye chuse another love, And let young Benjie gang."— Then Marjorie turn'd her round about, The tear blinding her ee,—30 "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,35 And threw her o'er the linn. The stream was strang, the maid was stout, And laith, laith to be dang, But, ere she wan the Lowden banks, Her fair colour was wan.40 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,45 "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 ground:50 "O wha has killed our ae sister, And how can he be found? "The night it is her low lykewake, The morn her burial day, And we maun watch at mirk midnight,55 And hear what she will say."— Wi' doors ajar, and candle light, And torches burning clear, The streikit corpse, till still midnight, They waked, but naething hear.60 About the middle o' the night, The cocks began to craw; And at the dead hour o' the night, The corpse began to thraw. "O whae has done the wrang, sister,65 Or dared the deadly sin? Whae was sae stout, and fear'd nae dout, As thraw ye o'er the linn?" "Young Benjie was the first ae man I laid my love upon;70 He was sae stout and proud-hearted, 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 een,75 And punish him ere he gang?" "Ye maunna Benjie head, brothers, Ye maunna Benjie hang, But ye maun pike out his twa gray een, And punish him ere he gang.80 "Tie a green gravat round his neck, And lead him out and in, And the best ae servant about your house To wait young Benjie on. "And aye, at every seven years' end,85 Ye'l tak him to the linn; For that's the penance he maun dree, To scug his deadly sin."