B

a. Herd's MSS, I, 182; b. the same, II, 67.

1 O lady, rock never your young son young
One hour longer for me,
For I have a sweetheart in Garlick's Wells
I love thrice better than thee.

2 'The very sols of my love's feet
Is whiter then thy face:'
'But nevertheless na, Young Hunting,
Ye'l stay wi me all night.'

3 She has birld in him Young Hunting
The good ale and the beer,
Till he was as fou drunken
As any wild-wood steer.

4 She has birld in him Young Hunting
The good ale and the wine,
Till he was as fou drunken
As any wild-wood swine.

5 Up she has tain him Young Hunting,
And she has had him to her bed,
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .

6 And she has minded her on a little penknife,
That hangs low down by her gare,
And she has gin him Young Hunting
A deep wound and a sare.

7 Out an spake the bonny bird,
That flew abon her head:
'Lady, keep well thy green clothing
Fra that good lord's blood.'

8 'O better I'll keep my green clothing
Fra that good lord's blood
Nor thou can keep thy flattering toung,
That flatters in thy head.

9 'Light down, light down, my bonny bird,
Light down upon my hand,
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .

10 'O siller, O siller shall be thy hire,
An goud shall be thy fee,
An every month into the year
Thy cage shall changed be.'

11 'I winna light down, I shanna light down,
I winna light on thy hand;
For soon, soon wad ye do to me
As ye done to Young Hunting.'

12 She has booted an spird him Young Hunting
As he had been gan to ride,
A hunting-horn about his neck,
An the sharp sourd by his side.

13 And she has had him to yon wan water,
For a' man calls it Clyde,
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .

14 The deepest pot intill it all
She has puten Young Hunting in;
A green truff upon his breast,
To hold that good lord down.

15 It fell once upon a day
The king was going to ride,
And he sent for him Young Hunting,
To ride on his right side.

16 She has turnd her right and round about,
She sware now by the corn,
'I saw na thy son, Young Hunting,
Sen yesterday at morn.'

17 She has turnd her right and round about,
She swear now by the moon,
'I saw na thy son, Young Hunting,
Sen yesterday at noon.

18 'It fears me sair in Clyde Water
That he is drownd therein:'
O thay ha sent for the king's duckers,
To duck for Young Hunting.

19 They ducked in at the tae water-bank,
Thay ducked out at the tither:
'We'll duck no more for Young Hunting,
All tho he wear our brother.'

20 Out an spake the bonny bird,
That flew abon their heads,
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .

21 'O he's na drownd in Clyde Water,
He is slain and put therein;
The lady that lives in yon castil
Slew him and put him in.

22 'Leave aff your ducking on the day,
And duck upon the night;
Whear ever that sakeless knight lys slain,
The candels will shine bright.'

23 Thay left off their ducking o the day,
And ducked upon the night,
And where that sakeless knight lay slain,
The candles shone full bright.

24 The deepest pot intill it a'
Thay got Young Hunting in;
A green turff upon his brest,
To hold that good lord down.

25 O thay ha sent aff men to the wood
To hew down baith thorn an fern,
That they might get a great bonefire
To burn that lady in.
'Put na the wyte on me,' she says,
'It was her May Catheren.'

26 Whan thay had tane her May Catheren,
In the bonefire set her in;
It wad na take upon her cheeks,
Nor take upon her chin,
Nor yet upon her yallow hair,
To healle the deadly sin.

27 Out they hae tain her May Catheren,
And they hay put that lady in;
O it took upon her cheek, her cheek,
An it took upon her chin,
An it took on her fair body,
She burnt like hoky-gren.

B

Kinloch MSS, VII, p. 7, Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 1; "from the recitation of Miss E. Beattie, of Edinburgh, a native of Mearns-shire, who sings it to a plaintive and melancholy, though somewhat monotonous, air of one measure."

1 Young Redin's til the huntin gane,
Wi therty lords and three;
And he has til his true-love gane,
As fast as he could hie.

2 'Ye're welcome here, my Young Redin,
For coal and candle-licht;
And sae are ye, my Young Redin,
To bide wi me the nicht.'

3 'I thank ye for your licht, ladie,
Sae do I for your coal;
But there's thrice as fair a ladie as thee
Meets me at Brandie's Well.'

4 Whan they war at their supper set,
And merrily drinking wine,
This ladie has tane a sair sickness,
And til her bed has gane.

5 Young Redin he has followed her,
And a dowie man was he;
He fund his true-love in her bouer,
And the tear was in her ee.

6 Whan he was in her arms laid,
And gieing her kisses sweet,
Then out she's tane a little penknife,
And woundid him sae deep.

7 'O lang, lang is the winter nicht,
And slawly daws the day;
There is a slain knicht in my bouer,
And I wish he war away.'

8 Then up bespak her bouer-woman,
And she spak ae wi spite:
'An there be a slain knicht in your bouer,
It's yoursell that has the wyte.'

9 'O heal this deed on me, Meggy,
O heal this deed on me;
The silks that war shapen for me gen Pasche,
They sall be sewed for thee.'

10 'O I hae heald on my mistress
A twalmonth and a day,
And I hae heald on my mistress
Mair than I can say.'

* * * * *

11 They've booted him, and they've spurred him,
As he was wont to ride,
A huntin-horn round his neck,
And a sharp sword by his side;
In the deepest place o Clyde's Water,
It's there they've made his bed.

12 Sine up bespak the wylie parrot,
As he sat on the tree:
'And hae ye killd him Young Redin,
Wha neer had love but thee?'

13 'Come doun, come doun, ye wylie parrot,
Come doun into my hand;
Your cage sall be o the beaten gowd,
Whan now it's but the wand.'

14 'I winna come doun, I canna come doun,
I winna come doun to thee;
For as ye've dune to Young Redin,
Ye'll do the like to me;
Ye'll thraw my head aff my hause-bane,
And throw me in the sea.'

15 O there cam seekin Young Redin
Mony a lord and knicht,
And there cam seekin Young Redin
Mony a ladie bricht.

16 And they've til his true-love gane,
Thinking he was wi her;
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .

17 'I hae na seen him Young Redin
Sin yesterday at noon;
He turnd his stately steed about,
And hied him throw the toun.

18 'But ye'll seek Clyde's Water up and doun,
Ye'll seek it out and in;
I hae na seen him Young Redin
Sin yesterday at noon.'

19 Then up bespak Young Redin's mither,
And a dowie woman was scho:
'There's na a place in Clyde's Water
But my son wad gae throw.'

20 They've sought Clyde's Water up and doun,
They've sought it out and in,
And the deepest place in Clyde's Water
They've fund Young Redin in.

21 O white, white war his wounds washen,
As white as a linen clout;
But as the traitor she cam near,
His wounds they gushit out.

22 'It's surely been my bouer-woman,
O ill may her betide!
I neer wad slain him Young Redin,
And thrown him in the Clyde.'

23 Then they've made a big bane-fire,
The bouer-woman to brin;
It tuke not on her cheek, her cheek,
It tuke not on her chin,
But it tuke on the cruel hands
That pat Young Redin in.

24 Then they've tane out the bouer-woman,
And pat the ladie in;
It tuke na on her cheek, her cheek,
It tuke na on her chin,
But it tuke on the fause, fause arms
That Young Redin lay in.

C

Harris MS., fol. 8, from Mrs Harris, Perthshire.

1 The ladie stude in her bour-door,
In her bour-door as she stude,
She thocht she heard a bridle ring,
That did her bodie gude.

2 She thocht it had been her father dear,
Come ridin owre the sand;
But it was her true-love Riedan,
Come hiean to her hand.

3 'You're welcome, you're welcome, Young Riedan,' she said,
'To coal an cannel-licht;
You're welcome, you're welcome, Young Riedan,
To sleep in my bour this nicht.'

4 'I thank you for your coal, madame,
An for your cannel tae;
There's a fairer maid at Clyde's Water,
I love better than you.'

5 'A fairer maid than me, Riedan?
A fairer maid than me?
A fairer maid than ten o me
You shurely neer did see.'

6 He leant him owre his saddle-bow,
To gie her a kiss sae sweet;
She keppit him on a little penknife,
An gae him a wound sae deep.

7 'Oh hide! oh hide! my bourswoman,
Oh hide this deed on me!
An the silks that waur shappit for me at Yule
At Pasch sall be sewed for thee.'

8 They saidled Young Riedan, they bridled Young Riedan,
The way he was wont to ride;
Wi a huntin-horn aboot his neck,
An a sharp sword by his side.

9 An they are on to Clyde's Water,
An they rade it up an doon,
An the deepest linn in a' Clyde's Water
They flang him Young Riedan [in].

10 'Lie you there, you Young Riedan,
Your bed it is fu wan;
The [maid] you hae at Clyde's Water,
For you she will think lang.'

11 Up it spak the wily bird,
As it sat on the tree:
'Oh wae betide you, ill woman,
An an ill death may you dee!
For he had neer anither love,
Anither love but thee.'

12 'Come doon, come doon, my pretty parrot,
An pickle wheat aff my glue;
An your cage sall be o the beaten goud,
Whan it's of the willow tree.'

13 'I winna come doon, I sanna come doon,
To siccan a traitor as thee;
For as you did to Young Riedan,
Sae wald you do to mee.'

14 'Come doon, come doon, my pretty parrot,
An pickle wheat aff my hand;
An your cage sall be o the beaten goud,
Whan it's o the willow wand.'

15 'I winna come doon, I sanna come doon,
To siccan a traitor as thee;
You wald thraw my head aff my hase-bane,
An fling it in the sea.'

16 It fell upon a Lammas-tide
The king's court cam ridin bye:
'Oh whare is it him Young Riedan?
It's fain I wald him see.'

17 'Oh I hae no seen Young Riedan
Sin three lang weeks the morn;
It bodes me sair, and drieds me mair,
Clyde's Water's him forlorn.'

18 Up it spak the wily bird,
As it sat on the tree;
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .

19 'Leave aff, leave aff your day-seekin,
An ye maun seek by nicht;
Aboon the place Young Riedan lies,
The cannels burn bricht.'

20 They gae up their day-seekin,
An they did seek by nicht;
An owre the place Young Riedan lay,
The cannels burnt bricht.

21 The firsten grip his mother got
Was o his yellow hair;
An was na that a dowie grip,
To get her ae son there!

22 The nexten grip his mother got
Was o his milk-white hand;
An wasna that a dowie grip,
To bring sae far to land!

23 White, white waur his wounds washen,
As white as ony lawn;
But sune's the traitor stude afore,
Then oot the red blude sprang.

* * * * *

24 Fire wadna tak on her bourswoman,
Niether on cheek nor chin;
But it took fast on thae twa hands
That flang young Riedan in.

25 'Come oot, come oot, my bourswoman,
Come oot, lat me win in;
For as I did the deed mysell,
Sae man I drie the pine.'

D

Motherwell's MS., p. 377; from Agnes Lyle, Kilbarchan.

1 Earl Richard has a hunting gone,
As fast as he can ride;
He's a hunting-horn about his neck,
And a broadsword by his side.

2 'Licht down, licht down, Earl Richard,' she says,
'O licht down and come in,
And thou'll get cheer and charcoal clear,
And torches for to burn.'

3 'I winna licht, I canna licht,
I winna licht at all;
A fairer lady then ten of thee
Meets me at Richard's Wall.'

4 He louted owre his saddle-bow,
And for to kiss her sweet,
But little thocht o that penknife
Wherewith she wound him deep.

5 'Why wounds thou me so deep, lady?
Why stabs thou me so sore?
There's not a lord like Earl Richard
Could love false woman more.'

6 She called upon her waiting-maid,
Long before it was day:
'I have a dead man in my bower,
I wish he were away.'

7 'Keep ye your bower, my lily-flower.
Keep it free of all men's blood;'
'Oh I will keep it een as weel
As you or any maid.

8 'But siller will be thy wage,' she says,
'And gold will be thy fee,
And I mysell will gang alang
And bear thee companye.'

9 They booted him, and spurred him,
As he was wont to ride,
And they're awa to Lorn's Water,
To Lorn's Water so wide.

10 They turned down his yellow hair,
Turnd up his milk-white feet:
'Lye thou there, Earl Richard,' she said,
'Till the blood seep from thy bane;
That fairer maid than ten of me
Will look lang or thou come hame.'

11 As they were coming hame again,
Upon the road so hie,
There they spy'd a small pyet,
Was sitting on a tree.

12 'Where has thou been, fair lady?' it says,
'Whare has thou been so soon?
Or what did thou wi Earl Richard,
Was late wi thee yestreen?'

13 'Come down, come down, my wee pyet;
An thou'll come to my knee,
I have a cage of beaten gold,
And I'll bestow't on thee.'

14 'Keep thou thy cage of beaten gold,
And I will keep my tree;
For as thou did wi Earl Richard,
So wad thou do wi me;
Thou wad thraw the wee head aff my bouk,
And drown me in the sea.'

15 'Come down, come down, my wee pyet;
An thou'll come to my hand,
I have a cage of beaten gold,
And thou's be put therein.'

16 'Keep thou thy cage o beaten gold,
And I will keep my tree;
For as thou did wi Earl Richard,
So would thou do wi me.'

17 'Oh an I had my bow bendit,
And set unto my knee,
I wad shoot this wee pyet
Sits gabbing on the tree.'

18 'Before thou get thy bow bendit,
And set unto thy knee,
I'll be at Earl Richard's father,
Telling ill tales on thee.'

19 As they were coming hame again,
Upon the road so bricht,
There they saw Earl Richard's father,
Coming marching in their sicht.

20 'Whare has thou been, fair lady?' he says,
'Whare has thou been back sae sune?
O what did thou wi my auld son,
Was late wi thee yestreen?'

21 She did swear by stars o licht,
And grass-green growing corn,
That she had not seen Earl Richard's face
Since Saturday at morn;
'But in Lorn's Water, indeed,' she says,
'I fear his days are done.'

22 'There was not a ford in Lorn's Water
But he could ride it weel;
And what did thou wi my auld son,
That went with thee afield?'

* * * * *

E

Scott's Minstrelsy, III, 265, 1803, communicated by James Hogg, from the recitation of his mother (Motherwell).

1 Lord William was the bravest knight
That dwalt in fair Scotland,
And, though renowned in France and Spain,
Fell by a ladie's hand.

2 As she was walking maid alone,
Down by yon shady wood,
She heard a smit o bridle reins,
She wishd might be for good.

3 'Come to my arms, my dear Willie,
You're welcome hame to me;
To best o chear and charcoal red,
And candle burnin free.'

4 'I winna light, I darena light,
Nor come to your arms at a';
A fairer maid than ten o you
I'll meet at Castle-law.'

5 'A fairer maid than me, Willie?
A fairer maid than me?
A fairer maid than ten o me
Your eyes did never see.'

6 He louted owr his saddle-lap
To kiss her ere they part,
And wi a little keen bodkin,
She pierced him to the heart.

7 'Ride on, ride on, Lord William now,
As fast as ye can dree;
Your bonny lass at Castle-law
Will weary you to see.'

8 Out up then spake a bonny bird,
Sat high upon a tree:
'How could you kill that noble lord?
He came to marry thee.'

9 'Come down, come down, my bonny bird,
And eat bread aff my hand;
Your cage shall be of wiry goud,
Whar now it's but the wand.'

10 'Keep ye your cage o goud, lady,
And I will keep my tree;
As ye hae done to Lord William,
Sae wad ye do to me.'

11 She set her foot on her door-step,
A bonny marble stane,
And carried him to her chamber,
Oer him to make her mane.

12 And she has kept that good lord's corpse
Three quarters of a year,
Until that word began to spread;
Then she began to fear.

13 Then she cryed on her waiting-maid,
Ay ready at her ca:
'There is a knight into my bower,
'Tis time he were awa.'

14 The ane has taen him by the head,
The ither by the feet,
And thrown him in the wan water,
That ran baith wide and deep.

15 'Look back, look back, now, lady fair,
On him that loed ye weel;
A better man than that blue corpse
Neer drew a sword of steel.'

F

a. Motherwell's MS., p. 61, from the recitation of Miss Stevenson of Glasgow, January 22, 1825; Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 218. b. Motherwell's Minstrelsy, Appendix, p. xvii, VIII, one stanza.

1 Earl Richard is a hunting gone,
As fast as he can ride,
His hunting-horn hung about his neck,
And a small sword by his side.

2 When he came to my lady's gate
He tirled at the pin,
And wha was sae ready as the lady hersell
To open and let him in.

3 'O light, O light, Earl Richard,' she says,
'O light and stay a' night;
You shall have cheer wi charcoal clear,
And candles burning bright.'

4 'I will not light, I cannot light,
I cannot light at all;
A fairer lady than ten of thee
Is waiting at Richard's Wall.'

5 He stooped from his milk-white steed,
To kiss her rosy cheek;
She had a pen-knife in her hand,
And wounded him so deep.

6 'O lie ye there, Earl Richard,' she says,
'O lie ye there till morn;
A fairer lady than ten of me
Will think lang of your coming home.'

7 She called her servants ane by ane,
She called them twa by twa:
'I have got a dead man in my bower,
I wish he were awa.'

8 The one has taen [him] by the hand,
And the other by the feet,
And they've thrown him in a deep draw-well,
Full fifty fathom deep.

9 Then up bespake a little bird,
That sat upon a tree:
'Gae hame, gae hame, ye false lady,
And pay your maids their fee.'

10 'Come down, come down, my pretty bird,
That sits upon the tree;
I have a cage of beaten gold,
I'll gie it unto thee.'

11 'Gae hame, gae hame, ye fause lady,
And pay your maids their fee;
As ye have done to Earl Richard,
Sae wud ye do to me.'

12 'If I had an arrow in my hand,
And a bow bent on a string,
I'd shoot a dart at thy proud heart,
Amang the leaves sae green.'