Fair Margaret's Misfortune, or, Sweet William's
Frightful Dreams on his Wedding
Night. With the Sudden Death and Burial
of those Noble Lovers.... Printed
for S. Bates, at the Sun and Bible, in Gilt-Spur
Street. Sarah Bates published about
1685. Chappell.
31. set.
41. lay.
54. Which causd him for to weep: caught
probably from 74. See the quotation
in Beaumont and Fletcher, and the
other broadside copies.
132. my kin.
181. channel.
b. 11. out upon a day.
13. a long.
24. you shall.
34. a riding.
43. went away first from the.
44. more came.
54. And stood at William's bed-feet.
61. you true.
63. grass green.
64. I am.
94. thy bride-bed.
101. called his.
121. Then he.
123. she looks both.
141. the seven.
143, 151. brown dame.
162. Of white.
182. And William.
193. there they.
194. all the.
201. Then.
c. 23. at eight.
24. you shall.
33. She spyed.
34. a riding.
44. more came.
53. There came.
54. And stood at William's feet.
61. you lovers true.
64. I'm.
94. And they.
121. Then he.
141. the seven.
17. William dyed.
182. And William.
193. there they.
194. Made all the folke.
201. Then.
d.
Variations not found in c: "Communicated
by a lady of the first distinction, as she
had heard this song repeated in her infancy."
32. Combing her yellow hair.
33. There she spyed.
4.
Then down she layd her ivory combe,
And braided her hair in twain;
She went alive out of her bower,
But neer came alive in't again.
6.
'Are you awake, Sweet William?' shee said,
'Or, Sweet William, are you asleep?
God give you joy of your gay bride-bed,
And me of my winding-sheet.'
113. And who so ready as her.
153. I neer made a vow to yonder poor
corpse.
16.
'Deal on, deal on, my merry men all,
Deal on your cake and your wine;
For whatever is dealt at her funeral today
Shall be dealt tomorrow at mine.'
191. They grew till they grew unto the.
192. And then they.
193. they tyed.
194. the people.
C.
"The ballad of Sweet William," writes Parsons
to Percy, "was the same as yours in
the stanzas I have omitted.... The person
from whom I took the thirty-fifth line [thirty-first,
here 43] sang it thus:
My chamber was full of wild men's wine,
which is absolute nonsense, yet, if altered to
'wild men and swine,' is perfect sense."
75
LORD LOVEL
A. 'Lady Ouncebell,' communicated to Bishop Percy
by the Rev. P. Parsons, of Wye, 1770 and 1775.
B. 'Lord Lavel,' Kinloch MSS, I, 45.
C. 'Lord Travell,' communicated by Mr Alexander
Laing, of Newburgh-on-Tay.
D. 'Lord Lovel,' Kinloch MSS, VII, 83; Kinloch's
Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 31.
E. Communicated by Mr J. F. Campbell, of Islay, as
learned about 1850.
F. 'Lord Lovel,' communicated by Mr Robert White,
of Newcastle-on-Tyne.
G. 'Lord Revel,' Harris MS., fol. 28b.
H. 'Lord Lovel.' a. Broadside in Dixon's Ancient
Poems, Ballads and Songs of the Peasantry of England,
p. 78, Percy Society, vol. XIX. b. Davidson's
Universal Melodist, I, 148.
I. Percy Papers, communicated by Principal Robertson.
I is made up of portions of several ballads.
The first stanza is derived from 'Sweet William's
Ghost,' the second and third possibly
from some form of 'Death and the Lady,'
4-11 from 'Lady Maisry.' The eighth stanza
of E should, perhaps, be considered as taken
from 'Lord Thomas and Fair Annet,' since in
no other copy of 'Lord Lovel' and in none of
'Fair Margaret and Sweet William' does the
hero die by his own hand.
In 'Fair Margaret and Sweet William,' as
also in 'Lord Thomas and Fair Annet,' a
lover sacrifices his inclination to make a marriage
of interest. In 'Lord Lovel' the woman
dies, not of affection betrayed, but of hope too
long deferred, and her laggard but not unfaithful
lover sinks under his remorse and
grief. 'Lord Lovel' is peculiarly such a ballad
as Orsino likes and praises: it is silly
sooth, like the old age. Therefore a gross
taste has taken pleasure in parodying it, and
the same with 'Young Beichan.' But there
are people in this world who are amused even
with a burlesque of Othello.[120]
There are several sets of ballads, very common
in Germany and in Scandinavia, which,
whether they are or are not variations of the
same original, at least have a great deal in
common with 'Lord Lovel' and 'Fair Margaret
and Sweet William.'
Of these, one which more closely resembles
the English is 'Der Ritter und die Maid,' of
German origin, but found also further north.[121]
A knight and maid have been together till
morning. She weeps; he tells her that he
will pay for her honor, will give her an underling
and money. She will have none but
him, and will go home to her mother. The
mother, on seeing her, asks why her gown is
long behind and short before, and offers her
meat and drink. The daughter refuses them,
goes to bed, and dies. So far there is no dallying
with the innocence of love, as in the
English ballad; the German knight is simply
a brutal man of pleasure. But now the knight
has a dream, as in 'Fair Margaret and Sweet
William;' it is that his love has died. He
bids his squire or groom to saddle, and rides
to find out what has happened. On his way
he hears an ominous bell; further on he sees
a grave digging; then he meets men carrying
a bier. Set down the bier, he cries, that I
may see my love. He turns back the cloth
and looks at the dead. She has suffered for
him, he will suffer for her. He draws his
sword and runs it through his heart. They
are buried in one coffin, or in the same grave.
In some of the ballads lilies rise from the
grave; in a Swedish version ('Jungfruns
död'), a linden, the leaves of which intermingle.
Next to this we may put a Norwegian and
a Swedish ballad, which, having perhaps lost
something at the beginning, cannot safely be
classed: 'Maarstíg aa hass möy,' Bugge, p.
127, No 26, A, B; 'Herr Malmstens dröm,'
Afzelius, III, 104, No 85. Maarstíg dreams
that his love's gold ring has got upon another
finger, that her gold belt is off her lithe waist,
her cloak or her hair is cut to bits, her shoes
are full of blood; Malmsten that his love's
heart breaks. The pages are ordered to saddle,
and Maarstíg, or Malmsten, rides to find
what there is in the dream. Maarstíg encounters
two maids, who are just from a wake.
"Who is dead?" "Maalfrí, thy sweet love."
He rides on, meets the bier, bids the bearers
set it down, and looks at the dead. Let them
dig the grave, he cries, wide and deep, it shall
be his bride-house; let them dig the grave
deep and long, that is where bride and bridegroom
shall go. He sets his sword against a
stone, and falls on it. With slight variations,
the course of the story is the same for Malmsten.
Another Swedish ballad, 'Den sörjande,'
Djurklou, p. 106, No 7, lacks even so
much introduction as the dream. The lover
orders his horse, hears the funeral bell, sees
the grave-digging, meets the bier, looks at his
dead mistress, and kills himself. A fragment
in Dybeck's Runa, 1845, p. 15, begins with
the ride and stops short of the death.
These last ballads apparently give us the
middle and end of a story which has also
some sort of beginning in the following: Danish,
'Den elskedes Død,' Kristensen, II, 39,
No 20, A-D, and in many unprinted copies
from oral tradition, besides two from MSS of
the sixteenth century, communicated to me by
Grundtvig; Swedish, 'Hertig Nils,' Arwidsson,
II, 21, No 72, 'Peder Palleson,' Arwidsson,
No 71, II, 18, 437; Norwegian, 'Herr
Stragi,' Landstad, p. 537, No 61.[122] A lover and
his mistress have parted, have been long
parted. She is sick, dying, or even dead. In
the Danish manuscript copies we are distinctly
told that she has grieved herself to death on
his account. Word is sent him by carrier-pigeons,
a bird, a page; or he is informed by
a spae-wife (Landstad). He leaps over the
table, spilling mead and wine (Kristensen),
and rides faster than the doves fly. The rest
of the tale is much as before, with those minor
diversities that are to be expected. The lover
commonly kills himself, but dies of heart-break
in 'Peder Palleson' and one of the sixteenth
century Danish copies. In the latter he hears
the bells, says he shall never arrive alive, dies
without the house and she within; in the
former the maid dies in the upper room, the
swain on the wild moor. In the Danish manuscript
copies the man is laid south in the
churchyard, the maid north [west, east], two
roses spring from their breasts and span the
church-roof, and there they shall stay till
doom; in Kristensen it is two lilies, in Arwidsson
a linden.
With these last may belong a German ballad
of a young Markgraf, who marries a very
young wife, goes for her mother upon the
approach of a threatening childbirth, and,
returning, has encounters similar to those in
'Der Ritter und die Maid.' In some instances
it is a Reiter, or Jäger, "wohlgemuth," not
married, or in secret relations with his love,
who, coming to a wood or heath, hears a bell
that alarms him; etc. In the end he generally
kills himself, sometimes dies of a broken
heart. Lilies in several cases rise from the
young woman's grave, or their grave.[123]
A Romaic ballad has the characteristic features
of the English, German, and Scandinavian
stories, with a beginning of its own, as
these also have: ' Ἡ Ευγενουλα,' 'Ὁ Χαρος και ἑ Κορη,' etc. (1) Zambelios, p. 715, 2=Passow,
No 415; (2) Passow, No 418; (3) Fauriel,
p. 112, No 6=Passow, No 417; (4) Marcellus,
II, 72=Passow, No 414; (5) Chasiotis, p.
169, No 5; (6) Passow, No 416; (7) Aravandinos,
p. 285, No 472; (8) Tommaseo, III,
307 f; (9) Jeannaraki, p. 239, No 301; and
no doubt elsewhere, for the ballad is a favorite.
A young girl, who has nine brothers and
is betrothed (or perhaps newly married) to
a rich pallikar, professes not to fear Death.
Death immediately shows his power over her.
Her lover, coming with a splendid train to
celebrate his nuptials, sees a cross on her mother's
gate, a sign that some one has died. In
(2) he lifts a gold handkerchief from the face
of the dead, and sees that it is his beloved.
Or he finds a man digging a grave, and asks
for whom the grave is, and is told. "Make
the grave deep and broad," he cries; "make
it for two," and stabs himself with his dagger.
A clump of reeds springs from one of the
lovers, a cypress [lemon-tree] from the other,
which bend one towards the other and kiss
whenever a strong breeze blows.[124]
In a Catalan ballad, a young man hears
funeral bells, asks for whom they ring, is
told that it is for his love, rides to her house,
finds the balcony hung with black, kneels at
the feet of the dead, and uncovers her face.
She speaks and tells him where his gifts to
her may be found, then bids him order the
carpenter to make a coffin large enough for
two. He draws his dagger and stabs himself;
there are two dead in one house! 'La mort
de la Nuvia,' Briz y Candi, I, 135, Milá, Romancerillo,
p. 321 f, No 337 All, Bll; found also
in Majorca.
As will readily be supposed, some of the incidents
of this series of ballads are found in
traditional song in various connections.
D is translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og
skotske Folkeviser, p. 194, No 29; by Rose
Warrens, Schottische Volkslieder der Vorzeit,
p. 115, No 25.
A
Percy Papers, communicated by the Rev. P. Parsons, of
Wye, from singing; May 22, 1770, and April 19, 1775.
1
'And I fare you well, Lady Ouncebell,
For I must needs be gone,
And this time two year I'll meet you again,
To finish the loves we begun.'
2
'That is a long time, Lord Lovill,' said she,
'To live in fair Scotland;'
'And so it is, Lady Ouncebell,
To leave a fair lady alone.'
3
He had not been in fair Scotland
Not half above half a year,
But a longin mind came into his head,
Lady Ouncebell he woud go see her.
4
He called up his stable-groom,
To sadle his milk-white stead;
Dey down, dey down, dey down dery down,
I wish Lord Lovill good speed.
5
He had not been in fair London
Not half above half a day,
But he heard the bells of the high chapel ring,
They rang with a ceserera.
6
He asked of a gentleman,
That set there all alone,
What made the bells of the high chapel ring,
The ladys make all their moan.
7
'One of the king's daughters are dead,' said he,
'Lady Ouncebell was her name;
She died for love of a courtous young night,
Lord Lovill he was the same.'
8
He caused her corps to be set down,
And her winding sheet undone,
And he made a vow before them all
He'd never kiss wowman again.
9
Lady Ouncebell died on the yesterday,
Lord Lovill on the morrow;
Lady Ouncebell died for pure true love,
Lord Lovill died for sorrow.
10
Lady Ouncebell was buried in the high chancel,
Lord Lovill in the choir;
Lady Ouncebell's breast sprung out a sweet rose,
Lord Lovill's a bunch of sweet brier.
11
They grew till they grew to the top of the church,
And then they could grow no higher;
They grew till they grew to a true-lover's not,
And then they tyed both together.
12
An old wowman coming by that way,
And a blessing she did crave,
To cut off a bunch of that true-lover's not,
And buried them both in one grave.
B
Kinloch MSS, I, 45, from the recitation of Mary Barr, of
Lesmahago, "aged upwards of 70," May, 1827.
1
Lord Lavel he stands at his stable-door,
Kaiming his milk-white steed;
And by and cam Fair Nancybelle,
And wished Lord Lavel good speed.
2
'O whare are ye going, Lord Lavel?' she said,
'I pray ye tell to me:'
'O I am going to merry England,
To win your love aff me.'
3
'And when will ye return again?' she said,
'Lord Lavel, pray tell to me:'
'Whan seven lang years are past and gane,
Fair Nancybelle, I'll return to thee.'
4
''T is too lang, Lord Lavel,' she said,
''T is too lang for me;
'T is too long, Lord Lavel,' she said,
'A true lover for to see.'
* * * * *
5
He had na been in merry England
A month but barely three,
Till languishing thoughts cam into his mind,
And Nancybelle fain wad he see.
6
He rade, and he rade, alang the hieway,
Till he cam to yonder toun;
He heard the sound o a fine chapel-bell,
And the ladies were mourning roun.
7
He rade, and he rade, alang the hieway,
Till he cam to yonder hall;
He heard the sound o a fine chapel-bell,
And the ladies were mourning all.
8
He asked wha it was that was dead,
The ladies did him tell:
They said, It is the king's daughter,
Her name is Fair Nancybelle;
She died for the love of a courteous young knicht,
His name is Lord Lavel.
9
'O hast thou died, Fair Nancybelle,
O hast thou died for me!
O hast thou died, Fair Nancybelle!
Then I will die for thee.'
10
Fair Nancybelle died, as it might be, this day,
Lord Lavel he died tomorrow;
Fair Nancybelle died with pure, pure love,
Lord Lavel he died with sorrow.
11
Lord Lavel was buried in Mary's kirk,
Nancybelle in Mary's quire;
And out o the ane there grew a birk,
Out the other a bonny brier.
12
And ae they grew, and ae they threw,
Until they twa did meet,
That ilka ane might plainly see
They war twa lovers sweet.
C
Communicated by Mr Alexander Laing, 1873, as taken
down from the recitation of Miss Fanny Walker, of Mount
Pleasant, near Newburgh-on-Tay.
1
Lord Travell stands in his stable-door,
Dressing his milk-white steed,
An bye comes Lady Ounceville:
'I wish you muckle speed.
2
'Oh whar are ye gaun, Lord Travell?' she says,
'Whar are gaun frae me?'
'I am gaun to London town,
Some strange things for to see.'
3
'Whan will ye be back, Lord Travell?' she says,
'Whan will ye be back to me?'
'I will be back in seven lang years,
To wed my gay ladie.'
4
'Oh that is too lang for me,' she says,
'Oh that is too lang for me;
Oh that is too lang for me,' she says,
'To wed thy gay ladie.'
5
He hadna been in London town
A week but only three,
Whan a boding voice thirld in his ear,
That Scotland he maun see.
6
He rade an he rode alang the highway,
Till he cam to yon little town:
'Oh is there ony body dead?
The bells they mak sic a sound.'
7
He rade an he rode alang the highway,
Till he cam to yon little town:
'Oh is there ony body dead?
The folk gae mournin round.'
8
'Oh yes indeed, there is ane dead,
Her name is Ounceville;
An she has died for a courteous knicht,
His name is Lord Travell.'
9
'Oh hand ye aboot, ye gentlemen,
The white bread an the wine,
For the morn's nicht aboot this time
Ye'll do the same for mine!'
D
Kinloch MSS, VII, 83, from the recitation of a lady of
Roxburghshire; Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 31.
1
Lord Lovel stands at his stable-door,
Mounted upon a grey steed,
And bye cam Ladie Nanciebel,
And wishd Lord Lovel much speed.
2
'O whare are ye going, Lord Lovel?
My dearest, tell unto me:'
'I am going a far journey,
Some strange countrey to see.
3
'But I'll return in seven long years,
Lady Nanciebel to see:'
'Oh seven, seven, seven long years,
They are much too long for me.'
* * * * *
4
He was gane about a year away,
A year but barely ane,
Whan a strange fancy cam intil his head
That faire Nanciebel was gane.
5
It's then he rade, and better rade,
Untill he cam to the toun,
And there he heard a dismal noise,
For the church bells au did soun.
6
He asked what the bells rang for;
They said, It's for Nanciebel;
She died for a discourteous squire,
And his name is Lord Lovel.
7
The lid of the coffin he opened up,
The linens he faulded doun,
And ae he kissd her pale, pale lips,
And the tears cam trinkling doun.
8
'Weill may I kiss these pale, pale lips,
For they will never kiss me;
I'll mak a vow, and I'll keep it true,
That I'll neer kiss ane but thee.'
9
Lady Nancie died on Tuesday's nicht,
Lord Lovel upon the niest day;
Lady Nancie died for pure, pure love,
Lord Lovel for deep sorraye.
E
Communicated by J. F. Campbell, Esq., as learned from
the singing of an English gentleman, about 1850.
1
'Now fare ye well, Lady Oonzabel,
For I must needs be gone,
To visit the king of fair Scotland,
Oh I must be up and ride.'
2
So he called unto him his little foot-page,
To saddle his milk-white steed;
Hey down, hey down, hey derry, hey down,
How I wish my Lord Lovel good speed!
3
He had not been in fair Scotland,
Not passing half a year,
When a lover-like thought came into his head,
Lady Oonzabel he would go see her.
4
So he called unto him his little foot-page,
To saddle his milk-white steed;
Hey down, hey down, hey derry, hey down,
How I wish my Lord Lovel good speed.
5
He had not been in fair England,
Not passing half a day,
When the bells of the high chappel did ring,
And they made a loud sassaray.
6
He asked of an old gentleman
Who was sitting there all alone,
Why the bells of the high chappel did ring,
And the ladies were making a moan.
7
'Oh, the king's fair daughter is dead,' said he;
'Her name's Lady Oonzabel;
And she died for the love of a courteous young knight,
And his name it is Lord Lovel.'
* * * * *
8
He caused the bier to be set down,
The winding sheet undone,
And drawing forth his rapier bright,
Through his own true heart did it run.
9
Lady Oonzabel lies in the high chappel,
Lord Lovel he lies in the quier;
And out of the one there grew up a white rose,
And out of the other a brier.
10
And they grew, and they grew, to the high chappel top;
They could not well grow any higher;
And they twined into a true lover's knot,
So in death they are joined together.
F
Communicated by Mr Robert White, of Newcastle-on-Tyne.
1
As Lord Lovel was at the stable-door,
Mounting his milk-white steed,
Who came by but poor Nancy Bell,
And she wished Lovel good speed.
2
'O where are ye going, Lord Lovel?' she said,
'How long to tarry from me?'
'Before six months are past and gone,
Again I'll return to thee.'
3
He had not been a twelvemonth away,
A twelvemonth and a day,
Till Nancy Bell grew sick and sad,
She pined and witherd away.
4
The very first town that he came to,
He heard the death-bell knell;
The very next town that he came to,
They said it was Nancy Bell.
5
He orderd the coffin to be broke open,
The sheet to be turned down,
And then he kissd her cold pale lips,
Till the tears ran tricklin down.
6
The one was buried in St. John's church,
The other in the choir;
From Nancy Bell sprang a bonny red rose,
From Lord Lovel a bonny briar.
7
They grew, and they grew, to the height o the church,
To they met from either side,
And at the top a true lover's knot
Shows that one for the other had died.
G
Harris MS., fol. 28 b, from the recitation of Mrs Molison,
Dunlappie.
1
Lord Revel he stands in his stable-door,
He was dressing a milk-white steed;
A lady she stands in her bour-door,
A dressin with haste an speed.
2
'O where are you goin, Lord Revel,' she said,
'Where are you going from me?'
'It's I am going to Lonnon toun,
That fair city for to see.'
3
'When will you be back, Lord Revel?' she said,
'When will you be back to me?'
'I will be back in the space of three years,
To wed you, my gey ladie.'
4
'That's too long a time for me,' she said,
'That's too long a time for me;
For I'll be dead long time ere that,
For want of your sweet companie.'
5
He had not been in Lonnon toun
A month but barely three,
When word was brought that Isabell
Was sick, an like to dee.
6
He had not been in Lonnon toun
A year but barely ane,
When word was brought from Lonnon toun
That Isabell was gane.
7
He rode an he rode along the high way,
Till he came to Edenborrow toon:
Is there any fair lady dead,' said he,
'That the bells gie such a tone?'
8
'Oh yes, there's a ladie, a very fine ladie,
Her name it is Isabell;
She died for the sake of a young Scottish knight,
His name it is Lord Revel.'
9
'Deal well, deal well at Isabell's burial
The biscuit and the beer,
An gainst the morrow at this same time
You'll aye deal mair and mair.
10
'Deal well, deal well at Isabell's burial
The white bread and the wine,
An gainst the morn at this same time
You'll deal the same at mine.'
11
They dealt well, dealt weel at Isabell's burial
The biscuit an the beer,
And gainst the morn at that same time
They dealt them mair an mair.
12
They dealt weel, dealt weel at Isabell's burial
The white bread an the wine,
An gainst the morn at that same time
They dealt the same again.
H
a. London broadside of 1846, in Dixon's Ancient Poems,
Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry of England, p. 78,
Percy Society, vol. XIX. b. Davidson's Universal Melodist,
I, 148.
1
Lord Lovel he stood at his castle-gate,
Combing his milk-white steed,
When up came Lady Nancy Belle,
To wish her lover good speed, speed,
To wish her lover good speed.
2
'Where are you going, Lord Lovel?' she said,
'Oh where are you going?' said she;
'I'm going, my Lady Nancy Belle,
Strange countries for to see.'
3
'When will you be back, Lord Lovel?' she said,
'Oh when will you come back?' said she;
'In a year or two, or three, at the most,
I'll return to my fair Nancy.'
4
But he had not been gone a year and a day,
Strange countries for to see,
When languishing thoughts came into his head,
Lady Nancy Belle he would go see.
5
So he rode, and he rode, on his milk-white steed,
Till he came to London town,
And there he heard St Pancras bells,
And the people all mourning round.
6
'Oh what is the matter?' Lord Lovel he said,
'Oh what is the matter?' said he;
'A lord's lady is dead,' a woman replied,
'And some call her Lady Nancy.'
7
So he ordered the grave to be opened wide,
And the shroud he turned down,
And there he kissed her clay-cold lips,
Till the tears came trickling down.
8
Lady Nancy she died, as it might be, today,
Lord Lovel he died as tomorrow;
Lady Nancy she died out of pure, pure grief,
Lord Lovel he died out of sorrow.
9
Lady Nancy was laid in St. Pancras church,
Lord Lovel was laid in the choir;
And out of her bosom there grew a red rose,
And out of her lover's a briar.
10
They grew, and they grew, to the church-steeple too,
And then they could grow no higher;
So there they entwined in a true-lover's knot,
For all lovers true to admire.
I
Percy Papers, communicated by Principal Robertson, the
historian.
1
There came a ghost to Helen's bower,
Wi monny a sigh and groan:
'O make yourself ready, at Wednesday at een,
Fair Helen, you must be gone.'
2
'O gay Death, O gallant Death,
Will you spare my life sae lang
Untill I send to merry Primrose,
Bid my dear lord come hame?'
3
'O gay Helen, O galant Helen,
I winna spare you sae lang;
But make yoursell ready, again Wednesday at een,
Fair Helen, you must be gane.'
4
'O where will I get a bonny boy,
That would win hose and shoon,
That will rin fast to merry Primrose,
Bid my dear lord come soon?'
5
O up and speak a little boy,
That would win hose and shoon:
'Aft have I gane your errants, lady,
But by my suth I'll rin.'
6
When he came to broken briggs
He bent his bow and swam,
And when he came to grass growing
He cast off his shoon and ran.
7
When he came to merry Primrose,
His lord he was at meat:
'O my lord, kend ye what I ken,
Right little wad ye eat.'
8
'Is there onny of my castles broken doun,
Or onny of my towers won?
Or is Fair Helen brought to bed
Of a doughter or a son?'
9
'There's nane of [your] castles broken doun,
Nor nane of your towers won,
Nor is Fair Helen brought to bed
Of a doghter or a son.'
10
'Gar sadle me the black, black steed,
Gar sadle me the brown;
Gar sadle me the swiftest horse
Eer carried man to town.'
11
First he bursted the bonny black,
And then he bursted the brown,
And then he bursted the swiftest steed
Eer carried man to town.
12
He hadna ridden a mile, a mile,
A mile but barelins ten,
When he met four and twenty gallant knights,
Carrying a dead coffin.
13
'Set down, set down Fair Helen's corps,
Let me look on the dead;'
And out he took a little pen-knife,
And he screeded the winding-sheet.
14
O first he kist her rosy cheek,
And then he kist her chin,
And then he kist her coral lips,
But there's nae life in within.
15
'Gar deal, gar deal the bread,' he says,
'The bread bat an the wine,
And at the morn at twelve o'clock
Ye's gain as much at mine.'
16
The tane was buried in Mary's kirk,
The tother in Mary's choir,
And out of the tane there sprang a birch,
And out of the tother a briar.
17
The tops of them grew far sundry,
But the roots of them grew neer,
And ye may easy ken by that
They were twa lovers dear.
A.