* * * * *
1
'It's gold shall be your hire,' she says,
'And silver shall be your fee,
If you will keep the secrets
Between Little Sir Grove and me.'
2
'Tho gold should be my hire,' he says,
'And silver should be my fee,
It's I'll not keep the secret
Betwixt Little Sir Grove and thee.'
3
Up he rose, and away he goes,
And along the plain he ran,
And when he came to Lord Bengwill's castle,
He tinkled at the pin;
And who was sae ready as Lord Bengwill himsell
To let this little page in.
4
'Is any of my towers burnt?' he said,
'Or any of my castles taen?
Or is Lady Bengwill brought to bed,
Of a daughter or a son?'
5
'It's nane of your towers are burnt,' he said,
'Nor nane of your castles taen;
But Lady Bengwill and Little Sir Grove
To merry bed they are gane.'
6
'If this be true that you tell me,
Rewarded you shall be;
And if it's a lie that you tell me,
You shall be hanged before your ladie's ee.
7
'Get saddled to me the black,' he says,
'Get saddled to me the brown;
Get saddled to me the swiftest steed
That ever man rode on.'
8
The firsten town that he came to,
He blew baith loud and schill,
And aye the owre-word o the tune
Was, 'Sir Grove, I wish you well.'
9
The nexten town that he came to,
He blew baith loud and long,
And aye the owre-word of the tune
Was 'Sir Grove, it is time to be gone.'
10
'Is yon the sound of the hounds?' he says,
'Or is yon the sound of the deer?
But I think it's the sound of my brother's horn,
That sounds sae schill in my ear.'
11
'Lye still, lye still, Sir Grove,' she says,
'And keep a fair lady from cold;
It's but the sound of my father's herd-boys,
As they're driving the sheep to the fold.'
12
They lay down in each other's arms,
And they fell fast asleep,
And neer a one of them did wake
Till Lord Bengwill stood at their feet.
13
'How do you love my soft pillow?
Or how do you love my sheets?
Or how do you love my fair lady,
That lies in your arms and sleeps?'
14
'Full well I love your soft pillow,
Far better I love your sheets;
But woe be to your fair lady,
That lies in my arms and sleeps!'
15
'Rise up, rise up, Sir Grove,' he says,
'Some clothes there put you upon;
Let it never be said in fair England
I fought with a naked man.'
16
'Oh where shall I go, or where shall I fly,
Or where shall I run for my life?
For you've got two broadswords into your hand,
And I have never a knife.'
17
'You shall take the one sword,' he says,
'And I shall take the other,
And that is as fair I'm sure to day
As that you are my born brother.'
18
'Hold your hand, hold your hand, my brother dear,
You've wounded me full sore;
You may get a mistress in every town,
But a brother you'll never get more.'
19
The very first stroke that Lord Bengwill gave him,
He wounded him full sore;
The very next stroke that Lord Bengwill gave him,
A word he never spoke more.
20
He's lifted up Lady Bengwill,
And set her on his knee,
Saying, Whether do you love Little Sir Grove
Better than you do me?
21
'Full well I love your cherry cheeks,
Full well I love your chin,
But better I love Little Sir Grove, where he lies,
Than you and all your kin.'
* * * * *
22
'A grave, a grave,' Lord Bengwill cried,
'To put these lovers in,
And put Lady Bengwill uppermost,
For she's come of the noblest kin.'
J
Motherwell's MS., p. 371, from the recitation of Agnes
Lyle, Kilbarchan.
1
Four and twenty ladies fair
Was playing at the ba,
And out cam the lady, Barnabas' lady,
The flower amang them a'.
2
She coost an ee on Little Mossgrey,
As brisk as any sun,
And he coost anither on her again,
And they thocht the play was won.
3
'What would you think, Little Mossgrey,
To lye wi me this nicht?
Good beds I hae in Barnabey,
If they were ordered richt.'
4
'Hold thy tongue, fair lady,' he says,
'For that would cause much strife;
For I see by the rings on your fingers
That you're Lord Barnabas' wife.'
5
'Lord Barnabas' lady indeed I am,
And that I'll let you ken,
But he's awa to the king's court,
And I hope he'll neer come hame.'
6
Wi wrapped arms in bed they lay
Till they fell both asleep,
When up and starts Barnabas' boy,
And stood at their bed-feet.
7
'How likes thou the bed, Mossgrey?
Or how likes thou the sheets?
Or how likes thou my master's lady,
Lyes in thy arms and sleeps?'
8
'Weel I love the bed,' he said,
'And far better the sheets;
But foul may fa your master's lady,
Lies in my arms and sleeps!'
9
She pulled out a rusty sword,
Was sticking by the stroe;
Says, Tell no tidings of me, my boy,
Or thou'll neer tell no moe.
10
He's awa to the king's court,
As fast as he can dree;
He's awa to the king's court,
For to tell Barnaby.
11
'Are there any of my biggins brunt?
Or any of my young men slain?
Or is my lady brocht to bed,
Of a dochter or a son?'
12
'There is none of your biggings brunt,
There's none of your young men slain;
But Little Mossgrey and your lady
They are both in a bed within.'
13
'If that be true, my bonnie boy,
Thou tellest unto me,
I have not a dochter but only one,
And married ye shall be.
14
'But if it be a lie, my bonnie boy,
You're telling unto me,
On the highest tree of Bailsberry,
Thereon I'll gar hang thee.'
15
There was a man in the king's court
Had a love to Little Mossgrey;
He took a horn out of his pocket,
And blew both loud and hie:
'He that's in bed wi Barnabas' lady,
It's time he were away!'
16
'Oh am I not the maddest man
Ere lay in a woman's bed!
I think I hear his bridle ring,
But and his horse feet tread.'
17
'Lye still, lye still, Little Mossgrey,
And keep me from the cold;
It's but my father's small sheep-herd,
Calling his sheep to the fold.'
18
With wrapped arms in bed they lay
Till they fell both asleep,
Till up and darts Barnabas himsell,
And stood at their bed-fit.
19
'How likest thou the bed, Mossgrey?
And how loves thou the sheets?
And how loves thou my lady fair,
Lyes in your arms and sleeps?'
20
'Well I love your bed,' he says,
'And far better your sheets;
But foul may fa your lady fair,
Lyes in my arms and sleeps!'
21
'Rise, O rise, Little Mossgrey,
Put on your hose and shoon;
I'll neer hae't said in a far countrie
I killed a naked man.'
22
Slowly, slowly rose he up,
And slowly put he on,
And slowly down the stairs he goes,
And thinking to be slain.
23
'Here's two swords,' Barnabas said,
'I wad they cost me dear;
Tak thou the best, I'll tak the warst,
We'll try the battle here.'
24
The first stroke that Mossgrey got,
It was baith sharp and sore;
And the next stroke his lady got,
One word she neer spak more.
25
'Ye'll mak a coffin large and wide,
And lay this couple in;
And lay her head on his right hand,
She's come o the highest kin.'
K
Dr Joseph Robertson's Journal of Excursions, No 5, taken
down from a man in the parish of Leochel, Aberdeenshire,
February 12, 1829.
1
It's four and twenty bonny boys
Were playin at the ba,
And out it cums Lord Barnet's ladie,
And playit out ower them a'.
2
And aye she shot it's Little Mousgray,
As clear as any sun:
'O what wad ye gie, it's Little Mousgray,
It's in o my arms to won?'
3
'For no, for no, my gay ladie,
For no, that maunna be;
For well ken I by the rings on your fingers,
Lord Barnet's ladie are ye.'
4
When supper was over, and mass was sung,
And a' man boun for bed,
It's Little Mousgray and that lady
In ae chamber was laid.
5
It's up and starts her little foot-page,
Just up at her bed-feet:
'Hail weel, hail weel, my little foot-page,
Hail well this deed on me,
An ever I lee my life to brook,
I 'se pay you well your fee.'
6
Out it spaks it's Little Mousgray:
'I think I hear a horn blaw;
She blaws baith loud and shill at ilka turning of the tune,
Mousgray, gae ye your wa!'
7
'Lie still, lie still, it's Little Mousgray,
Had the caul win frae my back;
It's bat my father's proud shepherds,
The're huntin their hogs to the fauld.'
8
O up it starts the bold Barnet:
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
9
'Win up, win up, it's Little Mousgray,
Draw ti your stockins and sheen;
I winna have it for to be said
I killed a naked man.
10
'There is two swords in my scabbart,
They cost me many a pun;
Tak ye the best, and I the warst,
And we sall to the green.'
11
The firsten strok Lord Barnet strak,
He wound Mousgray very sore;
The nexten stroke Lord Barnet strak,
Mousgray spak never more.
12
O he's taen out a lang, lang brand,
And stripped it athwart the straw,
And throch and throu his ain ladie
And he's gart it cum and ga.
13
There was nae main made for that ladie,
In bower whar she lay dead!
But a' was for her bonny young son,
Lay blobberin amang the bluid.
L
Buchan's MSS, I, 27; Scottish Traditional Versions of
Ancient Ballads, Percy Society, XVII, 21.
1
Four an twenty handsome youths
Were a' playing at the ba,
When forth it came him Little Munsgrove,
The flower out ower them a'.
2
At times he lost, at times he wan,
Till the noon-tide o the day,
And four an twenty gay ladies
Went out to view the play.
3
Some came down in white velvet,
And other some in green;
Lord Burnett's lady in red scarlet,
And shin'd like ony queen.
4
Some came down in white velvet,
And other some in pale;
Lord Burnett's lady in red scarlet,
Whose beauty did excell.
5
She gae a glance out ower them a',
As beams dart frae the sun;
She fixed her eyes on Little Munsgrove,
For him her love lay on.
6
'Gude day, gude day, ye handsome youth,
God make ye safe and free;
What woud ye gie this day, Munsgrove,
For ae night in bower wi me?'
7
'I darena for my lands, lady,
I darena for my life;
I ken by the rings on your fingers
Ye are Lord Burnett's wife.'
8
'It woud na touch my heart, Munsgrove,
Nae mair than 't woud my tae,
To see as much o his heart's blood
As twa brands coud let gae.
9
'I hae a bower in fair Strathdon,
And pictures round it sett,
And I hae ordered thee, Munsgrove,
In fair Strathdon to sleep.'
10
Her flattering words and fair speeches,
They were for him too strong,
And she's prevailed on Little Munsgrove
With her to gang along.
11
When mass was sung, and bells were rung,
And a' man bound for bed,
Little Munsgrove and that lady
In ae chamber were laid.
12
'O what hire will ye gie your page,
If he the watch will keep,
In case that your gude lord come hame
When we're fair fast asleep?'
13
'Siller, siller's be his wage,
And gowd shall be his hire;
But if he speak ae word o this,
He'll die in a burning fire.'
14
'The promise that I make, Madam,
I will stand to the same;
I winna heal it an hour langer
Than my master comes hame.'
15
She's taen a sharp brand in her hand,
Being in the tidive hour;
He ran between her and the door,
She never saw him more.
16
Where he found the grass grow green,
He slacked his shoes an ran,
And where he found the brigs broken,
He bent his bow an swam.
17
Lord Burnett ower a window lay,
Beheld baith dale and down;
And he beheld his ain foot-page
Come hastening to the town.
18
'What news, what news, my little wee boy,
Ye bring sae hastilie?'
'Bad news, bad news, my master,' he says,
'As ye will plainly see.'
19
'Are any of my biggins brunt, my boy?
Or are my woods hewed down?
Or is my dear lady lighter yet,
O dear daughter or son?'
20
'There are nane o your biggins brunt, master,
Nor are your woods hewn down;
Nor is your lady lighter yet,
O dear daughter nor son.
21
'But ye've a bower in fair Strathdon,
And pictures round it sett,
Where your lady and Little Munsgrove
In fair Strathdon do sleep.'
22
'O had your tongue! why talk you so
About my gay ladye?
She is a gude and chaste woman
As in the North Countrie.'
23
'A word I dinna lie, my lord,
A word I dinna lie;
And if ye winna believe my word,
Your ain twa een shall see.'
24
'Gin this be a true tale ye tell,
That ye have tauld to me,
I'll wed you to my eldest daughter,
And married you shall be.
25
'But if it be a fause story
That ye hae tauld to me,
A high gallows I'll gar be built,
And hanged shall ye be.'
26
He's called upon his landlady,
The reckoning for to pay,
And pulled out twa hands fou o gowd;
Says, We'll reckon anither day.
27
He called upon his stable-groom,
To saddle for him his steed,
And trampled ower yon rocky hills
Till his horse hoofs did bleed.
28
There was a man in Lord Burnett's train
Was ane o Munsgrove's kin,
And aye as fast as the horsemen rade,
Sae nimbly 's he did rin.
29
He set a horn to his mouth,
And he blew loud and sma,
And aye at every sounding's end,
'Awa, Munsgrove, awa!'
30
Then up it raise him Little Munsgrove,
And drew to him his sheen;
'Lye still, lye still,' the lady she cried,
'Why get ye up sae seen?'
31
'I think I hear a horn blaw,
And it blaws loud and sma;
And aye at every sounding's end,
Awa, Munsgrove, awa!'
32
'Lye still, lye still, ye Little Munsgrove,
Had my back frae the wind;
It's but my father's proud shepherd,
Caing his hogs to town.'
33
'I think I hear a horn blaw,
And it blaws loud and shrill,
And aye at every sounding's end
Bids Munsgrove take the hill.'
34
'Lye still, my boy, lye still, my sweet,
Had my back frae the cauld;
It's but the sugh o the westlin wind,
Blawing ower the birks sae bauld.'
35
He turned him right and round about,
And he fell fast asleep;
When up it started Lord Burnett,
And stood at their bed-feet.
36
'Is't for love o my blankets, Munsgrove?
Or is't for love o my sheets?
Or is't for love o my gay lady?
Sae soun in your arms she sleeps!'
37
'It's nae for love o your blankets, my lord,
Nor yet for love o your sheets;
But wae be to your gay ladye,
Sae soun in my arms she sleeps!'
38
'Win up, win up, ye Little Munsgrove,
Put all your armour an;
It's never be said anither day
I killed a naked man.
39
'I hae twa brands in ae scabbard,
Cost me merks twenty-nine;
Take ye the best, gie me the warst,
For ye're the weakest man.'
40
The first an stroke that Munsgrove drew
Wounded Lord Burnett sair;
The next an stroke Lord Burnett drew,
Munsgrove he spake nae mair.
41
He turned him to his ladye then,
And thus to her said he:
'All the time we've led our life
I neer thought this o thee.
42
'How like ye now this well-faird face,
That stands straight by your side?
Or will ye hate this ill-faird face,
Lyes weltering in his blude?'
43
'O better love I this well-faird face,
Lyes weltering in his blude,
Then eer I'll do this ill-faird face,
That stands straight by my side.'
44
Then he's taen out a sharp dagger,
It was baith keen and smart,
And he has wounded that gay ladye
A deep wound to the heart.
45
'A grave, a grave,' cried Lord Burnett,
'To bury these two in,
And lay my ladye in the highest flat,
She's chiefest o the kin.
46
'A grave, a grave,' said Lord Burnett,
'To bury these two in;
Lay Munsgrove in the lowest flat,
He's deepest in the sin.
47
'Ye'll darken my windows up secure,
Wi staunchions round about,
And there is not a living man
Shall eer see me walk out.
48
'Nae mair fine clothes my body deck,
Nor kame gang in my hair,
Nor burning coal nor candle light
Shine in my bower mair.'
M
Motherwell's Minstrelsy, Appendix, p. xx, XXI.
It fell upon a Martinmas time,
When the nobles were a' drinking wine,
That Little Mushiegrove to the kirk he did go,
For to see the ladies come in.
N
Communicated by Miss Margaret Reburn, as heard in
County Meath, Ireland, about 1860.
1
'How do you like my rug?' he said,
'And how do you like my sheets?
And how do you like my false ladie,
That lies in your arms asleep?'
2
'Well I like your rug my lord,
And well I like your sheets;
But better than all your fair ladie,
That lies in my arms asleep.'
A. a.
32. in pale.
62. geight.
63. wilt wed.
92. or sinn.
173. thou fair.
293. on upper.
b.
14. Their masses and mattins.
22. omits private.
32. pale.
34. among.
44. I have.
54. Yet word I never durst.
62. daintily bedight.
71. lady fair.
72. you shew.
74. will I.
81. All this was heard by.
83. Quo he, though I am my ladies page.
84. my lord.
92. Although I lose a limb.
93. whereas.
104. thy none.
114. omits will.
143. when as the.
144. Away, thou little Musgrave.
153. Bernards horn.
164. to fold.
171. the perch.
173. thy fair.
182. lighted upon a stone.
194. Doest find my lady so sweet.
203. hunder'd pound.
214. That I killed.
253. not do.
254. Though I.
261. omits That: heart.
272. ne're were.
282. on a.
B.
54. Musgerue.
6 is written in the MS. after 8,
but a marginal note by the scribe directs
this stanza to be put two higher than it is
written. Furnivall.
84. awaw.
93. out 3.
112. Between here and 123 half a page is gone.
134. all 3.
C.
a. The lamentable Ditty of Little Mousgrove
and the Lady Barnet... London,
printed for H. Gosson. Stanzas of eight
lines.
b. London: printed for J. Clark, W. Thackeray,
and T. Passenger.
c. A Lamentable Ballad of the Little Musgrove
and the Lady Barnet... London,
printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright,
and J. Clarke.
e. London: printed by and for W. O., and are
to be sold by the Booksellers.
a.
153. might lay.
After 16: The second part.
b., c.
Musgrove throughout.
11. light wanting.
12. more be.
24. which did to the.
32. some came. c. pale.
33. The next: the lady.
34. c. among.
41. upon.
43. well thou perceived.
51. The: most wanting.
53. b. reply.
63. that you please.
72. my love.
81. b. my life: my death.
82. will lye.
84. c. my love to thee.
93. come.
94. While: doe wanting.
103. So he: doe wanting.
111. he said.
131. ran this.
133. b. He then.
133. his own.
142. c. he did.
144. bent his.
152. to the.
153. b. my say. c. may say.
162. there wanting. c. did make.
163. upon.
164. doth.
172. that thou. b. telst.
172. to wanting.
182. as wanting. b. to wanting.
183. shall be set up.
184. thou shalt.
192. thou hearest of. c. And a.
193. Never stay a pair of gallows to make.
b. to wanting.
194. me on.
201. Lord Barnet calld his merry men all.
203. was so.
211. he said.
214. b. his deed.
221. to make no noise.
222. all... on wanting.
223. horn.
231. c. of them that.
233. him notice: was come.
234. wind the.
241. did sound.
243. if he.
264. into the.
273. awake: did espy. b. then he.
274. the beds.
282. cloathing.
283. c. never shall.
283. England fair.
284. That I.
291. b. Here is two swords.
292. c. The choice: Musgrove shall.
293. shall.
301. good wanting.
301, 3. that wanting.
312. did wanting.
313. And with: furious wise.
324. she's the better skin: c. she is.
332. b. grieved. c. grievd.
333. c. death of these worthy.
341. c. mischief.
343. b. shun the.
344. And fly from sin.
d.
11. a high.
91. with this.
113. counsel, Madam.
212. my milk-white.
234. wind his bugle horn clear.
333. these three lovely.
e.
11. a high.
13. Little wanting.
33. Then next.
81. my life: my death.
133. He then.
153. might tell to.
192. that wanting.
264. unto the.
282. an for on.
291. Here is two.
292. Musgrove thy choice now make.
313. most wanting.
343. shun the.
E.
101. this tidings.
123. Banburry.
153. It neer.
182. struck her.
194. wud: (with it) in margin.
G.
101. (cam) to the green wood cam.
H.
I.
K.
21. Corrupt: cf. A4, C4, D2, etc.
132. lay slain.
L.
82
THE BONNY BIRDY
Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 42; Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 162.
Jamieson, in printing this ballad, gave the
husband the name Lord Randal, made many
changes, and introduced several stanzas, "to
fill up chasms." But the chasms, such as
they are, are easily leapt by the imagination,
and Jamieson's interpolations are mere
bridges of carpenter's work. The admirably
effective burden is taken into the story at
stanza 11. As Jamieson remoulds the ballad,
it is no burden, but a part of the dialogue
throughout.
The main part of the action is the same as
in 'Little Musgrave.' The superior lyrical
quality of the Scottish ballad makes up for its
inferiority as a story, so that on the whole it
cannot be prized much lower than the noble
English ballad.
Cunningham has rewritten the ballad in his
own style, pretending, as often, to have known
another recited copy: 'Sir Hugh,' Songs of
Scotland, II, 130.
1
There was a knight, in a summer's night,
Was riding oer the lee, diddle
An there he saw a bonny birdy,
Was singing upon a tree. diddle
O wow for day! diddle
An dear gin it were day! diddle
Gin it were day, an gin I were away!
For I ha na lang time to stay. diddle
2
'Make hast, make hast, ye gentle knight,
What keeps you here so late?
Gin ye kent what was doing at hame,
I fear you woud look blate.'
3
'O what needs I toil day an night,
My fair body to kill,
Whan I hae knights at my comman,
An ladys at my will?'
4
'Ye lee, ye lee, ye gentle knight,
Sa loud's I hear you lee;
Your lady's a knight in her arms twa
That she lees far better nor the.'
5
'Ye lee, you lee, you bonny birdy,
How you lee upo my sweet!
I will tak out my bonny bow,
An in troth I will you sheet.'
6
'But afore ye hae your bow well bent,
An a' your arrows yare,
I will flee till another tree,
Whare I can better fare.'
7
'O whare was you gotten, and whare was ye clecked?
My bonny birdy, tell me:'
'O I was clecked in good green wood,
Intill a holly tree;
A gentleman my nest herryed,
An ga me to his lady.
8
'Wi good white bread an farrow-cow milk
He bade her feed me aft,
An ga her a little wee simmer-dale wanny,
To ding me sindle and saft.
9
'Wi good white bread an farrow-cow milk
I wot she fed me nought,
But wi a little wee simmer-dale wanny
She dang me sair an aft:
Gin she had deen as ye her bade,
I woudna tell how she has wrought.'
10
The knight he rade, and the birdy flew,
The live-lang simmer's night,
Till he came till his lady's bowr-door,
Then even down he did light:
The birdy sat on the crap of a tree,
An I wot it sang fu dight.
11
'O wow for day! diddle
An dear gin it were day! diddle
Gin it were day, an gin I were away!
For I ha na lang time to stay.' diddle
12
'What needs ye lang for day, diddle.
An wish that you were away? diddle
Is no your hounds i my cellar,
Eating white meal an gray?' diddle
O wow, etc.
13
'Is nae your steed in my stable,
Eating good corn an hay?
An is nae your hawk i my perch-tree,
Just perching for his prey?
An is nae yoursel i my arms twa?
Then how can ye lang for day?'
14
'O wow for day! diddle
An dear gin it were day! diddle
For he that's in bed wi anither man's wife
Has never lang time to stay.' diddle
15
Then out the knight has drawn his sword,
An straiked it oer a strae,
An thro and thro the fa'se knight's waste
He gard cauld iron gae:
An I hope ilk ane sal sae be servd
That treats ane honest man sae.
The burden stands thus in the manuscript after
the first stanza: