65 LADY MAISRY

1 Hey, love Willie, and how, love Willie,
And Willie my love shall be;
They're thinking to sinder our lang love, Willie;
It's mair than man can dee.

2 'Ye'll mount me quickly on a steed,
A milk-white steed or gray,
And carry me on to gude greenwood,
Before that it be day.'

3 He mounted her upon a steed,
He chose a steed o gray;
He had her on to gude greenwood,
Before that it was day.

4 'O will ye gang to the cards, Meggie?
Or will ye gang wi me?
Or will ye hae a bower-woman,
To stay ere it be day?'

5 'I winna gang to the cards,' she said,
'Nor will I gae wi thee,
Nor will I hae a bower-woman,
To spoil my modestie.

6 'Ye'll gie me a lady at my back,
An a lady me beforn,
An a midwife at my twa sides,
Till your young son be born.

7 'Ye'll do me up, and further up,
To the top o yon greenwood tree;
For every pain myself shall hae,
The same pain ye maun drie.'

8 The first pain that did strike Sweet Willie,
It was into the side;
Then sighing sair said Sweet Willie,
These pains are ill to bide!

9 The nextan pain that strake Sweet Willie,
It was into the back;
Then sighing sair said Sweet Willie,
These pains are women's wreck!

10 The nextan pain that strake Sweet Willie,
It was into the head;
Then sighing sair said Sweet Willie,
I fear my lady's dead!

11 Then he's gane on, and further on,
At the foot o yon greenwood tree;
There he got his lady lighter,
Wi his young son on her knee.

12 Then he's taen up his little young son,
And kissd him, cheek and chin,
And he is on to his mother,
As fast as he could gang.

13 'Ye will take in my son, mother,
Gie him to nurses nine;
Three to wauk, and three to sleep,
And three to gang between.'

14 Then he has left his mother's house,
And frae her he has gane,
And he is back to his lady,
And safely brought her hame.

15 Then in it came her father dear,
Was belted in a brand:
'It's nae time for brides to lye in bed,
When the bridegroom 's send 's in town.

16 'There are four-and-twenty noble lords
A' lighted on the green;
The fairest knight amang them a',
He must be your bridegroom.'

17 'O wha will shoe my foot, my foot?
And wha will glove my hand?
And wha will prin my sma middle,
Wi the short prin and the lang?'

18 Now out it speaks him Sweet Willie,
Who knew her troubles best:
'It is my duty for to serve,
As I'm come here as guest.

19 'Now I will shoe your foot, Maisry,
And I will glove your hand,
And I will prin your sma middle,
Wi the sma prin and the lang.'

20 'Wha will saddle my steed,' she says,
'And gar my bridle ring?
And wha will hae me to gude church-door,
This day I'm ill abound?'

21 'I will saddle your steed, Maisry,
And gar your bridle ring,
And I'll hae you to gude church-door,
And safely set you down.'

22 'O healy, healy take me up,
And healy set me down,
And set my back until a wa,
My foot to yird-fast stane.'

23 He healy took her frae her horse,
And healy set her down,
And set her back until a wa,
Her foot to yird-fast stane.

24 When they had eaten and well drunken,
And a' had thornd fine,
The bride's father he took the cup,
For to serve out the wine.

25 Out it speaks the bridegroom's brother,
An ill death mat he die!
'I fear our bride she's born a bairn,
Or else has it a dee.'

26 She's taen out a Bible braid,
And deeply has she sworn;
'If I hae born a bairn,' she says,
'Sin yesterday at morn,

27 'Or if I've born a bairn,' she says,
'Sin yesterday at noon,
There's nae a lady amang you a'
That woud been here sae soon.'

28 Then out it spake the bridegroom's man,
Mischance come ower his heel!
'Win up, win up, now bride,' he says,
'And dance a shamefu reel.'

29 Then out it speaks the bride hersell,
And a sorry heart had she:
'Is there nae ane amang you a'
Will dance this dance for me?'

30 Then out it speaks him Sweet Willie,
And he spake aye thro pride:
'O draw my boots for me, bridegroom,
Or I dance for your bride.'

31 Then out it spake the bride hersell:
O na, this maunna be;
For I will dance this dance mysell,
Tho my back shoud gang in three.

32 She hadna well gane thro the reel,
Nor yet well on the green,
Till she fell down at Willie's feet
As cauld as ony stane.

33 He's taen her in his arms twa,
And haed her up the stair;
Then up it came her jolly bridegroom,
Says, What's your business there?

34 Then Willie lifted up his foot,
And dang him down the stair,
And brake three ribs o the bridegroom's side,
And a word he spake nae mair.

35 Nae meen was made for that lady,
When she was lying dead;
But a' was for him Sweet Willie,
On the fields for he ran mad.

1 'Will you marry the southland lord,
A queen of fair England to be?
Or will you burn for Sweet Willie,
The morn upon yon lea?'

2 'I will marry the southland lord,
Father, sen it is your will;
But I'd rather it were my burial-day,
For my grave I'm going till.

3 'O go, O go now, my bower-wife,
O go now hastilie,
O go now to Sweet Willie's bower,
And bid him cum speak to me.'

* * * * *

4 And he is to his mother's bower,
As fast as he could rin:
'Open, open, my mother dear,
Open, and let me in.

5 'For the rain rains on my yellow hair,
The dew stands on my chin,
And I have something in my lap,
And I wad fain be in.'

6 'O go, O go now, Sweet Willie,
And make your lady blithe,
For wherever you had ae nourice,
Your young son shall hae five.'

7 Out spak Annet's mother dear,
An she spak a word o' pride;
Says, Whare is a' our bride's maidens,
They're no busking the bride?

8 'O haud your tongue, my mother dear,
Your speaking let it be,
For I'm sae fair and full o flesh
Little busking will serve me.'

9 Out an spak the bride's maidens,
They spak a word o pride;
Says, Whare is a' the fine cleiding?
It's we maun busk the bride.

10 'Deal hooly wi my head, maidens,
Deal hooly wi my hair;
For it was washen late yestreen,
And it is wonder sair.'

* * * * *

11 And Willie swore a great, great oath,
And he swore by the thorn,
That she was as free o a child that night
As the night that she was born.

12 'Ye hae gien me the gowk, Annet,
But I'll gie you the scorn;
For there's no a bell in a' the town
Shall ring for you the morn.'

13 Out and spak then Sweet Willie:
Sae loud's I hear you lie!
There's no a bell in a' the town
But shall ring for Annet and me.

* * * * *

The copy in Kinloch MSS, II, 41, has been revised by Mr Kinloch. His more important changes are as follows:

1¹. Sweet Willie.

1³. took in labor-pains.

2¹. Gae fetch.

2³. For but.

2⁴. It's surely.

3³. And what a woman can do, Janet.

3⁴. That I.

4⁴. Says, Fy.

6^{1, 3}. now chuse thee, Fair Janet.

7², 8². hollin.

10², 11¹, 18³, 19³. Marytoun.

10⁴. Cam riding.

12¹. Then out.

14⁴. ye let me abee.

18¹. the bridegroom then.

19¹. But out.

19². His heart.

20. Fair Janet was buried in Mary's kirk,
Sweet Willie in Mary's quier,
And out o the tane there sprang a rose,
Out o the tither a brier.

21. And aye they grew, and aye they threw,
Till thae twa they did meet,
That ilka ane might plainly see
They war twa lovers sweet.

FOOTNOTES:

[84] She bids Willie leave her bower while she is in travail, C 7; in default of bower-woman, Willie offers to bandage his eyes and do a woman's part, E 3, after which a stanza is doubtless lost, in which man's aid would be rejected: cf. No 15, I, 182. F has a strange passage, 6-10 (belonging, perhaps, to 'Leesome Brand'), in which the lady, after asking that she may have the attendance of three women, selects the top of a tree for her labor, and informs Willie that he will have to drie every pain that she herself has, which experience duly follows.

[85] Danish E is translated by Prior, II, 99.

[86] La Fidanzata Infedele, Nigra, Rivista Contemporanea, XXXI, 21, and 'L'adultera,' Ferraro, Canti p. monferrini, p. 5, are the same ballad as the Breton, but the dance is not proposed in these.

65
LADY MAISRY

A. 'Lady Maisry,' Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 24; Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 73.

B. Motherwell's MS., p. 422, communicated by Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe.

C. 'Janet,' Motherwell's MS., p. 472.

D. 'Lady Margery,' Campbell MSS, II, 70.

E. 'Lady Marjory,' Motherwell's MS., p. 1; Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 234.

F. The Scots [Edinburgh] Magazine, 1822, LXXXIX 734.

G. Notes and Queries, Second Series, IX, 193.

H. 'Young Prince James,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 103.

I. a. 'Bonnie Susie Cleland,' Motherwell's MS., p. 235, Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 221. b. 'Susie Cleland,' Motherwell's MS., p. 179. c. 'Susie Cleland,' Motherwell's MS., p. 181.

A was No 12 in William Tytler's Brown manuscript, and stanzas 1, 21, 22, of that copy are cited by Anderson in his letter to Percy, Nichols's Illustrations, VII, 177. Jamieson, who made a few changes in printing from his manuscript, attributes, by an oversight, the ballad to Mrs Arrot: compare Popular Ballads, I, pp 66 and 59. His copy is repeated by Motherwell, p. 71. C, of which no account is given by Motherwell, is hardly more than a variety of B. There is a copy in the Abbotsford manuscript, "Scottish Songs," which is more considerably tampered with, in the way of change, omission, and insertion.[87]

All the versions are in accord as to the material points of the story. Lady Maisry rejects the suit of all the lords in the north country, A; she has given her love to an English lord. Her lover's seat is Strawberry Castle, D, E, F; Adam's Tower, H; he lives at London, G. Maisry has been at Strawberry Castle for a time, and has there learned some unco lair, D, E.[88] It is discovered that Maisry goes with bairn. Her brother, A, H, father, I, informed to this effect, requires her to renounce her English lord, but she refuses; her father offers her the choice of marrying an auld man or burning, D. In the other versions the family set about preparations for burning her without attempting any arrangement. Maisry, warned of her approaching fate, calls for a boy to carry word to England, and a light-footed and heartily devoted young messenger takes her errand. The English lord asks if his biggins are broken, his towers won, or is his lady lighter, and is told that his lady is to be burnt for him that very day. Horses are instantly saddled: a black, a brown, are foundered, a milk-white [a dapple-gray], fair fall the mare that foaled that foal! holds out, B, C, E, F. In D fifteen stout steeds are burst, yet the little foot-page runs aye before, crying, Mend your pace an you may! Maisry, in the flames, hears her lover's horn, hears his bridle ring, A, E, F, H. "Beet on!" she cries; "I value you not one straw. Mend up the fire, brother; I see him coming that will soon mend it up to thee."[89] In A, H she cries out, when her lover appears, that if her hands had been free she would have cast out his young son. He leaps into the fire for a last kiss; her body falls apart, B-G. He threatens an awful retaliation: he will burn father and mother, and the chief of all her kin (who, no doubt, had been concerned in this auto da fé). Vengeance glutted, he will throw himself into the flames, A, F; he will take the pilgrim's cloak and staff, C. The foot-page shall be heir of his land, C; he will remember the bonny boy that ran the errand, E.[90]

Maisry, Margery, is the heroine's name in A, D-H, J; Janet in B, C; Susie Cleland in I. The hero has a name only in A, Lord William, and in H, Prince James.

'Lady Maisry' has a limited, and perhaps quite accidental, resemblance to the Scandinavian-German ballad spoken of in the preface to 'Fair Janet.' The lapse of the heroine is visited with a fearful death at the hand of brother or father, and the lover who was partner to her trespass appears on the scene immediately after, and takes his revenge. A kitchey-boy is informant in A, as in some versions of the German story.

The regular penalty for incontinence in an unmarried woman, if we are to trust the authority of romances, is burning. This, according to the well-known passage in Ariosto, Orlando Furioso, IV, 58, 59, was l'aspra legge di Scozia, empia e severa, though it might be as difficult to point out a law to that effect in any European code as a corresponding patria potestas.[91] Some ballad cases are: Scandinavian (Danish, Swedish, Norwegian, Icelandic), 'Ildpröven' and 'Møen paa Baalet,' Grundtvig, Nos 108, 109, II, 577-590, III, 904 f, Eva Wigström, Folkdiktning, I, 30, No 13; Spanish and Portuguese, 'De la infanta y don Galvan,' Wolf and Hofmann, Primavera, No 159, II, 92; 'Conde Claros de Montalvan,' Primavera, No 191, II, 374; 'La infanta seducida,' Milá, Romancerillo Catalan, No 258, A-M, pp 249-54; 'L'infanta,' Briz, IV, 39; 'Dom Carlos de Montealbar,' etc., Braga, Romanceiro, p. 79 ff, Nos 31, 32, 33, Cantos pop. do Archipelago Açoriano, p. 246, No 25, Almeida-Garrett, II, 203; 'Dona Ausenda,' Almeida-Garrett, II, 177, 'Dona Aldonça,' Estacio da Veiga, p. 75; Hardung, Romanceiro Portuguez, I, 180-204. To these add the prose Merlin, ed. Wheatley, I, 16; L'Histoire plaisante du noble Siperis de Vinevaulx, etc., cited by Liebrecht, Dunlop, p. 467, note 117.[92]

A is translated, after Jamieson, I, 73, by Grundtvig, Engelske og skotske Folkeviser, p. 38; I, a, the same, p. 322.

1 The young lords o the north country
Have all a wooing gone,
To win the love of Lady Maisry,
But o them she woud hae none.

2 O they hae courted Lady Maisry
Wi a' kin kind of things;
An they hae sought her Lady Maisry
Wi brotches an wi' rings.

3 An they ha sought her Lady Maisry
Frae father and frae mother;
An they ha sought her Lady Maisry
Frae sister an frae brother.

4 An they ha followd her Lady Maisry
Thro chamber an thro ha;
But a' that they coud say to her,
Her answer still was Na.

5 'O had your tongues, young men,' she says,
'An think nae mair o me;
For I've gien my love to an English lord,
An think nae mair o me.'

6 Her father's kitchy-boy heard that,
An ill death may he dee!
An he is on to her brother,
As fast as gang coud he.

7 'O is my father an my mother well,
But an my brothers three?
Gin my sister Lady Maisry be well,
There's naething can ail me.'

8 'Your father and your mother is well,
But an your brothers three;
Your sister Lady Maisry's well,
So big wi bairn gangs she.'

9 'Gin this be true you tell to me,
My mailison light on thee!
But gin it be a lie you tell,
You sal be hangit hie.'

10 He's done him to his sister's bowr,
Wi meikle doole an care;
An there he saw her Lady Maisry,
Kembing her yallow hair.

11 'O wha is aught that bairn,' he says,
'That ye sae big are wi?
And gin ye winna own the truth,
This moment ye sall dee.'

12 She turnd her right an roun about,
An the kem fell frae her han;
A trembling seizd her fair body,
An her rosy cheek grew wan.

13 'O pardon me, my brother dear,
An the truth I'll tell to thee;
My bairn it is to Lord William,
An he is betrothd to me.'

14 'O coud na ye gotten dukes, or lords,
Intill your ain country,
That ye draw up wi an English dog,
To bring this shame on me?

15 'But ye maun gi up the English lord,
Whan youre young babe is born;
For, gin you keep by him an hour langer,
Your life sall be forlorn.'

16 'I will gi up this English blood,
Till my young babe be born;
But the never a day nor hour langer,
Tho my life should be forlorn.'

17 'O whare is a' my merry young men,
Whom I gi meat and fee,
To pu the thistle and the thorn,
To burn this wile whore wi?'

18 'O whare will I get a bonny boy,
To help me in my need,
To rin wi hast to Lord William,
And bid him come wi speed?'

19 O out it spake a bonny boy,
Stood by her brother's side:
'O I would rin your errand, lady,
Oer a' the world wide.

20 'Aft have I run your errands, lady,
Whan blawn baith win and weet;
But now I'll rin your errand, lady,
Wi sat tears on my cheek.'

21 O whan he came to broken briggs,
He bent his bow and swam,
An whan he came to the green grass growin,
He slackd his shoone and ran.

22 O whan he came to Lord William's gates,
He baed na to chap or ca,
But set his bent bow till his breast,
An lightly lap the wa;
An, or the porter was at the gate,
The boy was i the ha.

23 'O is my biggins broken, boy?
Or is my towers won?
Or is my lady lighter yet,
Of a dear daughter or son?'

24 'Your biggin is na broken, sir,
Nor is your towers won;
But the fairest lady in a' the lan
For you this day maun burn.'

25 'O saddle me the black, the black,
Or saddle me the brown;
O saddle me the swiftest steed
That ever rade frae a town.'

26 Or he was near a mile awa,
She heard his wild horse sneeze:
'Mend up the fire, my false brother,
It's na come to my knees.'

27 O whan he lighted at the gate,
She heard his bridle ring:
'Mend up the fire, my false brother,
It's far yet frae my chin.

28 'Mend up the fire to me, brother,
Mend up the fire to me;
For I see him comin hard an fast
Will soon men 't up to thee.

29 'O gin my hands had been loose, Willy,
Sae hard as they are boun,
I would have turnd me frae the gleed,
And castin out your young son.'

30 'O I'll gar burn for you, Maisry,
Your father an your mother;
An I'll gar burn for you, Maisry,
Your sister an your brother.

31 'An I'll gar burn for you, Maisry,
The chief of a' your kin;
An the last bonfire that I come to,
Mysel I will cast in.'

1 In came her sister,
Stepping on the floor;
Says, It's telling me, my sister Janet,
That you're become a whore.

2 'A whore, sister, a whore, sister?
That's what I'll never be;
I'm no so great a whore, sister,
As liars does on me lee.'

3 In came her brother,
Stepping on the floor;
Says, It's telling me, my sister Janet,
That you're become a whore.'

4 'A whore, brother, a whore, brother?
A whore I'll never be;
I'm no so bad a woman, brother,
As liars does on me lee.'

5 In came her mother,
Stepping on the floor:
'They are telling me, my daughter,
That you're so soon become a whore.'

6 'A whore, mother, a whore, mother?
A whore I'll never be;
I'm only with child to an English lord,
Who promised to marry me.'

7 In came her father,
Stepping on the floor;
Says, They tell me, my daughter Janet,
That you are become a whore.'

8 'A whore, father, a whore, father?
A whore I'll never be;
I'm but with child to an English lord,
Who promisd to marry me.'

9 Then in it came an old woman,
The lady's nurse was she,
And ere she could get out a word
The tear blinded her ee.

10 'Your father's to the fire, Janet,
Your brother's to the whin;
All for to kindle a bold bonfire,
To burn your body in.'

11 'Where will I get a boy,' she said,
'Will gain gold for his fee,
That would run unto fair England
For my good lord to me?'

12 'O I have here a boy,' she said,
'Will gain gold to his fee,
For he will run to fair England
For thy good lord to thee.'

13 Now when he found a bridge broken,
He bent his bow and swam,
And when he got where grass did grow,
He slacked it and ran.

14 And when he came to that lord's gate,
Stopt not to knock or call,
But set his bent bow to his breast
And lightly leapt the wall;
And ere the porter could open the gate,
The boy was in the hall,

15 In presence of that noble lord,
And fell down on his knee:
'What is it, my boy,' he cried,
'Have you brought unto me?

16 'Is my building broke into?
Or is my towers won?
Or is my true-love delivered
Of daughter or of son?'

17 'Your building is not broke,' he cried,
'Nor is your towers won,
Nor is your true-love delivered
Of daughter nor of son;
But if you do not come in haste,
Be sure she will be gone.

18 'Her father is gone to the fire,
Her brother to the whin,
To kindle up a bold bonfire,
To burn her body in.'

19 'Go saddle to me the black,' he cried,
'And do it very soon;
Get unto me the swiftest horse
That ever rade from the town.'

20 The first horse that he rade upon,
For he was raven black,
He bore him far, and very far,
But failed in a slack.

21 The next horse that he rode upon,
He was a bonny brown;
He bore him far, and very far,
But did at last fall down.

22 The next horse that he rode upon,
He as the milk was white;
Fair fall the mare that foaled that foal
Took him to Janet's sight!

23 And boots and spurs, all as he was,
Into the fire he lap,
Got one kiss of her comely mouth,
While her body gave a crack.

24 'O who has been so bold,' he says,
'This bonfire to set on?
Or who has been so bold,' he says,
'Her body for to burn?'

25 'O here are we,' her brother said,
'This bonfire who set on;
And we have been so bold,' he said,
'Her body for to burn.'

26 'O I'll cause burn for you, Janet,
Your father and your mother;
And I'll cause die for you, Janet,
Your sister and your brother.

27 'And I'll cause mony back be bare,
And mony shed be thin,
And mony wife be made a widow,
And mony ane want their son.'