Alexander Fraser Tytler's Brown MS., No 3.
1
King Easter has courted her for her gowd,
King Wester for her fee,
King Honor for her lands sae braid,
And for her fair body.
2
They had not been four months married,
As I have heard them tell,
Until the nobles of the land
Against them did rebel.
3
And they cast kaivles them amang,
And kaivles them between,
And they cast kaivles them amang
Wha shoud gae kill the king.
4
O some said yea, and some said nay,
Their words did not agree;
Till up it gat him Fa'se Footrage,
And sware it shoud be he.
5
When bells were rung, and mass was sung.
And a' man boon to bed,
King Honor and his gay ladie
In a hie chamer were laid.
6
Then up it raise him Fa'se Footrage,
While a' were fast asleep,
And slew the porter in his lodge,
That watch and ward did keep.
7
O four and twenty silver keys
Hang hie upon a pin,
And ay as a door he did unlock,
He has fastend it him behind.
8
Then up it raise him King Honor,
Says, What means a' this din!
Now what's the matter, Fa'se Footrage?
O wha was't loot you in?
9
'O ye my errand well shall learn
Before that I depart;'
Then drew a knife baith lang and sharp
And pierced him thro the heart.
10
Then up it got the Queen hersell,
And fell low down on her knee:
'O spare my life now, Fa'se Footrage!
For I never injured thee.
11
'O spare my life now, Fa'se Footrage!
Until I lighter be,
And see gin it be lad or lass
King Honor has left me wi.'
12
'O gin it be a lass,' he says,
'Well nursed she shall be;
But gin it be a lad-bairn,
He shall be hanged hie.
13
'I winna spare his tender age,
Nor yet his hie, hie kin;
But as soon as eer he born is,
He shall mount the gallows-pin.'
14
O four and twenty valiant knights
Were set the Queen to guard,
And four stood ay at her bower-door,
To keep baith watch and ward.
15
But when the time drew till an end
That she should lighter be,
She cast about to find a wile
To set her body free.
16
O she has birled these merry young men
Wi strong beer and wi wine,
Until she made them a' as drunk
As any wallwood swine.
17
'O narrow, narrow is this window,
And big, big am I grown!'
Yet thro the might of Our Ladie
Out at it she has won.
18
She wanderd up, she wanderd down,
She wanderd out and in,
And at last, into the very swines' stye,
The Queen brought forth a son.
19
Then they cast kaivles them amang
Wha should gae seek the Queen,
And the kaivle fell upon Wise William,
And he's sent his wife for him.
20
O when she saw Wise William's wife,
The Queen fell on her knee;
'Win up, win up, madame,' she says,
'What means this courtesie?'
21
'O out of this I winna rise
Till a boon ye grant to me,
To change your lass for this lad-bairn
King Honor left me wi.
22
'And ye maun learn my gay gose-hawke
Well how to breast a steed,
And I shall learn your turtle-dow
As well to write and read.
23
'And ye maun learn my gay gose-hawke
To wield baith bow and brand,
And I shall learn your turtle-dow
To lay gowd wi her hand.
24
'At kirk or market where we meet,
We dare nae mair avow
But, Dame how does my gay gose-hawk?
Madame, how does my dow?'
25
When days were gane, and years came on,
Wise William he thought long;
Out has he taen King Honor's son,
A hunting for to gang.
26
It sae fell out at their hunting,
Upon a summer's day,
That they cam by a fair castle,
Stood on a sunny brae.
27
'O dinna ye see that bonny castle,
Wi wa's and towers sae fair?
Gin ilka man had back his ain,
Of it you shoud be heir.'
28
'How I shoud be heir of that castle
In sooth I canna see,
When it belongs to Fa'se Footrage,
And he's nae kin to me.'
29
'O gin ye shoud kill him Fa'se Footrage,
You woud do what is right;
For I wot he killd your father dear,
Ere ever you saw the light.
30
'Gin ye should kill him Fa'se Footrage,
There is nae man durst you blame;
For he keeps your mother a prisoner,
And she dares no take you hame.'
31
The boy stared wild like a gray gose-hawke,
Says, What may a' this mean!
'My boy, you are King Honor's son,
And your mother's our lawful queen.'
32
'O gin I be King Honor's son,
By Our Ladie I swear,
This day I will that traytour slay,
And relieve my mother dear.'
33
He has set his bent bow till his breast,
And lap the castle-wa,
And soon he's siesed on Fa'se Footrage,
Wha loud for help gan ca.
34
'O hold your tongue now, Fa'se Footrage,
Frae me you shanno flee;'
Syne pierced him through the foul fa'se heart,
And set his mother free.
35
And he has rewarded Wise William
Wi the best half of his land,
And sae has he the turtle-dow
Wi the truth of his right hand.
B
Motherwell's MS., p. 341.
1
The Eastmure king, and the Westmure king,
And the king of Onorie,
They have all courted a pretty maid,
And guess wha she micht be.
2
The Eastmure king courted her for gold,
And the Westmure king for fee,
The king of Onore for womanheid,
And for her fair beautie.
3
The Eastmure king swore a solemn oath,
He would keep it till May,
That he would murder the king of Onore,
Upon his wedding day.
4
When bells was rung, and psalms was sung.
And all men boune for sleep,
Up and started the Eastmure king
At the king of Onore's head.
5
He has drawn the curtains by—
Their sheets was made of dorn—
And he has murdered the king of Onore,
As innocent as he was born.
6
This maid she awak'd in the middle of the night,
Was in a drowsy dream;
She found her bride's-bed swim with blood,
Bot and her good lord slain.
7
'What will the court and council say?
What will they say to me?
What will the court and council say
But this night I've murderd thee?'
8
Out and speaks the Eastmure king:
'Hold your tongue, my pretty may,
And come along with me, my dear,
And that court ye'll never see.'
9
He mounted her on a milk-white steed,
Himself upon a gray;
She turnd her back against the court,
And weeping rode away.
10
'Now if you be with child,' he says,
'As I trew well you be,
If it be of a lassie-bairn,
I'll give her nurses three.
11
'If it be a lassie-bairn,
If you please she'll get five;
But if it be a bonnie boy,
I will not let him live.'
12
Word is to the city gone,
And word is to the town,
And word is to the city gone,
She's delivered of a son.
13
But a poor woman in the town
In the same case does lye,
Wha gived to her her woman-child,
Took awa her bonnie boy.
14
At kirk or market, whereer they met,
They never durst avow,
But 'Thou be kind to my boy,' she says,
'I'll be kind to your bonnie dow.'
15
This boy was sixteen years of age,
But he was nae seventeen,
When he is to the garden gone,
To slay that Eastmure king.
16
'Be aware, be aware, thou Eastmure king,
Be aware this day of me;
For I do swear and do declare
Thy botcher I will be.'
17
'What aileth thee, my bonnie boy?
What aileth thee at me?
I'm sure I never did thee wrang;
Thy face I neer did see.'
18
'Thou murdered my father dear,
When scarse conceived was I;
Thou murdered my father dear,
When scarse conceived was me:'
So then he slew that Eastmure king,
Beneath that garden tree.
C
Harris MS., No 18, fol. 22: derived from Jannie Scott, an
old Perthshire nurse, about 1790.
1
Eastmuir king, and Wastmuir king,
And king o Luve, a' three,
It's they coost kevils them amang,
Aboot a gay ladie.
2
Eastmuir king he wan the gowd,
An Wastmuir king the fee,
But king o Luve, wi his lands sae broad,
He's won the fair ladie.
3
Thae twa kings, they made an aith,
That, be it as it may,
They wad slay him king o Luve,
Upon his waddin day.
4
Eastmuir king he brak his aith,
An sair penance did he;
But Wastmuir king he made it oot,
An an ill deid mat he dee!
B.
44. Onore's feet originally.
53. Onores.
90
JELLON GRAME.
A. a. 'Jellon Grame and Lillie Flower,' A. Fraser
Tytler's Brown MS., No 4. b. 'Jellon Grame,'
Scott's Minstrelsy, II, 20, 1802.
B. 'Hind Henry,' Motherwell's MS., p. 443.
C. 'May-a-Row,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of
Scotland, II, 231.
D. 'Lady Margerie,' Cromek's Remains of Nithsdale
and Galloway Song, p. 222.
'Jellon Grame' was first given to the
world in Scott's Minstrelsy, in 1802. The editor
says of this copy, A b, "This ballad is published
from tradition, with some conjectural
emendations. It is corrected by a copy in
Mrs Brown's MS. [A a], from which it differs
in the concluding stanzas. Some verses are apparently
modernized." The only very important
difference between Scott's version and
Mrs Brown's is its having four stanzas of its
own, the four before the last two, which are
evidently not simply modernized, but modern.
There is a material difference between the
story furnished by A and what we learn from
the three other copies. Jellon Grame sends
for his love Lillie Flower to come to the wood.
She is very eager to go, though warned by the
messenger that she may never come back.
Jellon Grame, who has already dug her grave,
kills her because her father will hang him
when it is discovered that she has had a child
by him. He brings up the child as his sister's
son. One day, when the boy asks why his
mother does not take him home, Jellon Grame
(very unnaturally) answers, I slew her, and
there she lies: upon which the boy sends an
arrow through him.
In B, C, D, the man is Henry, Hind Henry,
B, C; the maid is May Margerie, B, May-a-Roe,
C, Margerie, D. Margerie, in B, receives
a message to come to the wood to make her
love a shirt, which surprises her, for no month
had passed in the year that she had not made
him three. Nevertheless, she goes, though
warned by her mother that there is a plot
against her life. She is stopped in the wood
by Hind Henry, who kills her because she
loves Brown Robin. Word is carried that
Margerie has been slain; her sister hastens to
the wood, takes under her care the child which
Margerie was going with, and calls him Brown
Robin, after his father. The lad goes to the
wood one day after school to pull a hollin
wand, and meets Hind Henry at the place
where the mother had been killed. No grass
is growing just there, and the boy asks Hind
Henry why this is so. Hind Henry, not less
frank than Jellon Grame, says, That is the
very spot where I killed your mother. The
boy catches at Henry's sword and runs him
through.
C has nearly the same incidents as B, diluted
and vulgarized in almost twice as many
verses. Brown Robin is made to be Hind
Henry's brother. The sister does not appear
in the action, and the child is brought up by
the murderer, as in A, but is named Robin
Hood, after that bold robber. On hearing
from Hind Henry how his mother had come
to her death, young Robin sends an arrow to
his heart.
A story is supplied from the "traditions of
Galloway" for the fragmentary, and perhaps
heterogeneous, verses called D; I suppose by
Allan Cunningham. Margerie was beloved by
two brothers, and preferred the elder. Henry,
the younger, forged a billet to her by which
he obtained a meeting in a wood, when he reproached
her for not returning his feelings:
sts 1, 2. "She expostulated with him on the
impropriety of bringing her into an unfrequented
place for the purpose of winning affections
which, she observed, were not hers to bestow;"
but expostulations as to improprieties
producing but slight effect in "those rude
times," told him plainly that she was with child
by his brother. Henry drew his sword and
killed Margerie. The elder brother, who was
hunting, was apprised of mischief by the omens
in stanza 4. "Astonished at this singular
phenomenon, he immediately flew to the bower
of his mistress, where a page informed him she
was gone to the 'silver wood,' agreeably to
his desire. Thither he spurred his horse, and,
meeting Henry with his bloody sword still in
his hand, inquired what he had been killing."
The other replied as in stanza 5. "A mutual
explanation took place, and Henry fell by the
sword of his unhappy brother."
The resemblance of this ballad at the beginning
to 'Child Maurice' will not escape notice.
Silver Wood, or the silver wood, is
found in 'Child Maurice,' A 1, G 1. A 14, B
10, C 15, is a commonplace: see No 66, A
28, 29, B 20, 21, D 9, E 40; No 70, B 25;
No 81, K 13. B 13 is found in 'Willie and
Earl Richard's Daughter,' B 24: cf. A 15. The
phenomenon in D 4 we have had in No 65, D
17.
'Jellon Grame,' and particularly versions B,
C, D, may be regarded as a counterpart to
'Fause Foodrage,' and especially to versions
B, C, of that ballad. In 'Fause Foodrage,' B,
C, and 'Jellon Grame,' B, C, D, a woman has
two lovers. The one who is preferred is killed
by the other in 'Fause Foodrage;' in 'Jellon
Grame' the woman herself is killed by the
lover she has rejected. This kind of interchange
is familiar in ballads. In both 'Fause
Foodrage' and 'Jellon Grame' the son of the
woman, before he comes to manhood, takes
vengeance on the murderer.
'Jellon Grame,' as well as 'Fause Foodrage,'
has certainly suffered very much in
transmission. It is interesting to find an ancient
and original trait preserved even in so
extremely corrupted a version as C of the present
ballad, a circumstance very far from unexampled.
In stanza 18 we read that the child
who is to avenge his mother "grew as big in ae
year auld as some boys woud in three," and we
have a faint trace of the same extraordinary
thriving in B 15: "Of all the youths was at
that school none could with him compare."
So in one of the Scandinavian ballads akin to
'Fause Foodrage,' and more remotely to 'Jellon
Grame,' the corresponding child grows
more in two months than other boys in eight
years:
Mei voks unge Ingelbrett
í dei maanar tvaa
hell híne smaabonni
vokse paa aatte aar.
Bugge, Norske Folkeviser, No 23, st. 17, p. 113.
This is a commonplace: so again Bugge, No
5, sts 7, 8, p. 23. Compare Robert le Diable,
and Sir Gowther.
In B 14 we are told that the boy was called
by his father's name (C 17 is corrupted).
This is a point in the corresponding Scandinavian
ballads: Danske Viser, No 126, st. 21,
No 127, st. 34; Levninger, No 12, st. 26, No
13, st. 18; Íslenzk fornkvæði, No 28, st. 33b;
Bugge, No 23, st. 16; Kristensen, I, No 97,
sts 7, 11, No 111, st. 9.
A b is translated by Schubart, p. 69; by
Arndt, Blütenlese, p. 234.
A
a. A. Fraser Tytler's Brown MS., No 4. b. Scott's Minstrelsy,
II, 20, 1802.
1
O Jellon Grame sat in Silver Wood,
He whistled and he sang,
And he has calld his little foot-page,
His errand for to gang.
2
'Win up, my bonny boy,' he says,
'As quick as eer you may;
For ye maun gang for Lillie Flower,
Before the break of day.'
3
The boy he's buckled his belt about,
And thro the green-wood ran,
And he came to the ladie's bower-door,
Before the day did dawn.
4
'O sleep ye, or wake ye, Lillie Flower?
The red run's i the rain:'
'I sleep not aft, I wake right aft;
Wha's that that kens my name?'
5
'Ye are bidden come to Silver Wood,
But I fear you'll never win hame;
Ye are bidden come to Silver Wood,
And speak wi Jellon Grame.'
6
'O I will gang to Silver Wood,
Though I shoud never win hame;
For the thing I most desire on earth
Is to speak wi Jellon Grame.'
7
She had no ridden a mile, a mile,
A mile but barely three,
Ere she came to a new made grave,
Beneath a green oak tree.
8
O then up started Jellon Grame,
Out of a bush hard bye:
'Light down, light down now, Lillie Flower,
For it's here that ye maun ly.'
9
She lighted aff her milk-white steed,
And knelt upon her knee:
'O mercy, mercy, Jellon Grame!
For I'm nae prepar'd to die.
10
'Your bairn, that stirs between my sides,
Maun shortly see the light;
But to see it weltring in my blude
Woud be a piteous sight.'
11
'O shoud I spare your life,' he says,
'Until that bairn be born,
I ken fu well your stern father
Woud hang me on the morn.'
12
'O spare my life now, Jellon Grame!
My father ye neer need dread;
I'll keep my bairn i the good green wood,
Or wi it I'll beg my bread.'
13
He took nae pity on that ladie,
Tho she for life did pray;
But pierced her thro the fair body,
As at his feet she lay.
14
He felt nae pity for that ladie,
Tho she was lying dead;
But he felt some for the bonny boy,
Lay weltring in her blude.
15
Up has he taen that bonny boy,
Gien him to nurices nine,
Three to wake, and three to sleep,
And three to go between.
16
And he's brought up that bonny boy,
Calld him his sister's son;
He thought nae man would eer find out
The deed that he had done.
17
But it sae fell out upon a time,
As a hunting they did gay,
That they rested them in Silver Wood,
Upon a summer-day.
18
Then out it spake that bonny boy,
While the tear stood in his eye,
'O tell me this now, Jellon Grame,
And I pray you dinna lie.
19
'The reason that my mother dear
Does never take me hame?
To keep me still in banishment
Is baith a sin and shame.'
20
'You wonder that your mother dear
Does never send for thee;
Lo, there's the place I slew thy mother,
Beneath that green oak tree.'
21
Wi that the boy has bent his bow,
It was baith stout and lang,
And through and thro him Jellon Grame
He's gard an arrow gang.
22
Says, Lye you thare now, Jellon Grame,
My mellison you wi;
The place my mother lies buried in
Is far too good for thee.
B
Motherwell's MS., p. 443.
1
Word has come to May Margerie,
In her bower where she sat:
'You are bid come to good green-wood,
To make your love a shirt.'
2
'I wonder much,' said May Margerie,
'At this message to me;
There is not a month gone of this year
But I have made him three.'
3
Then out did speak her mother dear,
A wise woman was she;
Said, Stay at home, my daughter May,
They seek to murder thee.
4
'O I'll cast off my gloves, mother,
And hang them up, I say;
If I come never back again,
They will mind you on May.
5
'Go saddle my horseback,' she said,
'It's quick as ever you may,
And we will ride to good green-wood;
It is a pleasant day.'
6
And when she came to good green-wood,
It's through it they did ride;
Then up did start him Hind Henry,
Just at the lady's side.
7
Says, Stop, O stop, you May Margerie,
Just stop I say to thee;
The boy that leads your bridle reins
Shall see you red and blue.
8
It's out he drew a long, long brand,
And stroked it ower a strae,
And through and through that lady's sides
He made the cauld weapon gae.
9
Says, Take you that now, May Margerie,
Just take you that from me,
Because you love Brown Robin,
And never would love me.
10
There was less pity for that lady,
When she was lying dead,
As was for her bony infant boy,
Lay swathed amang her bleed.
11
The boy fled home with all his might,
The tear into his ee:
'They have slain my lady in the wood,
With fear I'm like to die.'
12
Her sister's ran into the wood,
With greater grief and care,
Sighing and sobbing all the way,
Tearing her cloaths and hair.
13
Says, I'll take up that fair infant,
And lull him on my sleeve;
Altho his father should wish me woe,
His mother to me was leeve.
14
Now she has taken the infant up,
And she has brought him hame,
And she has called him Brown Robin,
That was his father's name.
15
And when he did grow up a bit,
She put him to the lair,
And of all the youths was at that school
None could with him compare.
16
And it fell once upon a day
A playtime it was come,
And when the rest went from the school,
Each one to their own home,
17
He hied him unto good green-wood,
And leapt from tree to tree;
It was to pull a hollin wand,
To play his ownself wi.
18
And when he thus had passed his time,
To go home he was fain,
He chanced to meet him Hind Henry,
Where his mother was slain.
19
'O how is this,' the youth cried out,
'If it to you is known,
How all this wood is growing grass,
And on that small spot grows none?'
20
'Since you do wonder, bonnie boy,
I shall tell you anon;
That is indeed the very spot
I killed your mother in.'
21
He catched hold of Henry's brand,
And stroked it ower a strae,
And thro and thro Hind Henry's sides
He made the cauld metal gae.
22
Says, Take you that, O Hind Henry,
O take you that from me,
For killing of my mother dear,
And her not hurting thee.
C
Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 231.
1
When spring appeard in all its bloom,
And flowers grew fresh and green,
As May-a-Roe she set her down,
To lay gowd on her seam.
2
But word has come to that lady,
At evening when 't was dark,
To meet her love in gude greenwood,
And bring to him a sark.
3
'That's strange to me' said May-a-Roe,
'For how can a' this be?
A month or twa is scarcely past
Sin I sent my lovie three.'
4
Then May-a-Roe lap on her steed,
And quickly rade away;
She hadna ridden but hauf a mile,
Till she heard a voice to say:
5
'Turn back, turn back, ye ventrous maid,
Nae farther must ye go;
For the boy that leads your bridle rein
Leads you to your overthrow.'
6
But a' these words she neer did mind,
But fast awa did ride;
And up it starts him Hynde Henry,
Just fair by her right side.
7
'Ye'll tarry here, perfidious maid,
For by my hand ye 'se dee;
Ye married my brother, Brown Robin,
Whan ye shoud hae married me.'
8
'O mercy, mercy, Hynde Henry,
O mercy have on me!
For I am eight months gane wi child,
Therefore ye'll lat me be.'
9
'Nae mercy is for thee, fair maid,
Nae mercy is for thee;
You married my brother, Brown Robin,
Whan ye shoud hae married me.'
10
'Ye will bring here the bread, Henry,
And I will bring the wine,
And ye will drink to your ain love,
And I will drink to mine.'
11
'I winna bring here the bread, fair maid,
Nor yet shall ye the wine,
Nor will I drink to my ain love,
Nor yet shall ye to thine.'
12
'O mercy, mercy, Hynde Henry,
Until I lighter be!
Hae mercy on your brother's bairn,
Tho ye hae nane for me.'
13
'Nae mercy is for thee, fair maid,
Nae mercy is for thee;
Such mercy unto you I'll gie
As what ye gae to me.'
14
Then he's taen out a trusty brand,
And stroakd it ower a strae,
And thro and thro her fair body
He's gart cauld iron gae.
15
Nae meen was made for that lady,
For she was lying dead;
But a' was for her bonny bairn,
Lay spartling by her side.
16
Then he's taen up the bonny bairn,
Handled him tenderlie,
And said, Ye are o my ain kin,
Tho your mother ill used me.
17
He's washen him at the crystal stream,
And rowd him in a weed,
And namd him after a bold robber
Who was calld Robin Hood.
18
Then brought to the next borough's town,
And gae him nurses three;
He grew as big in ae year auld
As some boys woud in three.
19
Then he was sent to guid squeel-house,
To learn how to thrive;
He learnd as muckle in ae year's time
As some boys would in five.
20
But I wonder, I wonder,' said little Robin,
'Gin eer a woman bare me;
For mony a lady spiers for the rest,
But nae ane spiers for me.
21
'I wonder, I wonder,' said little Robin,
'Were I of woman born;
Whan ladies my comrades do caress,
They look at me wi scorn.'
22
It fell upon an evening-tide,
Was ae night by it lane,
Whan a' the boys frae guid squeel-house
Were merrily coming hame,
23
Robin parted frae the rest,
He wishd to be alane;
And when his comrades he dismist,
To guid greenwood he's gane.
24
When he came to guid greenwood,
He clamb frae tree to tree,
To pou some o the finest leaves,
For to divert him wi.
25
He hadna pu'd a leaf, a leaf,
Nor brake a branch but ane,
Till by it came him Hynde Henry,
And bade him lat alane.
26
'You are too bauld a boy,' he said,
'Sae impudent you be,
As pu the leaves that's nae your ain,
Or yet to touch the tree.'
27
'O mercy, mercy, gentleman,
O mercy hae on me!
For if that I offence hae done,
It was unknown to me.'
28
'Nae boy comes here to guid greenwood
But pays a fine to me;
Your velvet coat, or shooting-bow,
Which o them will ye gie?'
29
'My shooting-bow arches sae well,
Wi it I canno part;
Lest wer't to send a sharp arrow
To pierce you to the heart.'
30
He turnd him right and round about,
His countenance did change:
'Ye seem to be a boy right bauld;
Why can ye talk sae strange?
31
'I'm sure ye are the bauldest boy
That ever I talkd wi;
As for your mother, May-a-Roe,
She was neer sae bauld to me.'
32
'O, if ye knew my mother,' he said,
'That's very strange to me;
And if that ye my mother knew,
It's mair than I coud dee.'
33
'Sae well as I your mother knew,
Ance my sweet-heart was she;
Because to me she broke her vow,
This maid was slain by me.'
34
'O, if ye slew my mother dear,
As I trust ye make nae lie,
I wyte ye never did the deed
That better paid shall be.'
35
'O mercy, mercy, little Robin,
O mercy hae on me!'
'Sic mercy as ye pae my mother,
Sic mercy I'll gie thee.
36
'Prepare yourself, perfidious man,
For by my hand ye 'se dee;
Now come's that bluidy butcher's end
Took my mother frae me.'
37
Then he hae chosen a sharp arrow,
That was baith keen and smart,
And let it fly at Hynde Henry,
And piercd him to the heart.
38
These news hae gaen thro Stirling town,
Likewise thro Hunting-ha;
At last it reachd the king's own court,
Amang the nobles a'.
39
When the king got word o that,
A light laugh then gae he,
And he's sent for him little Robin,
To come right speedilie.
40
He's putten on little Robin's head
A ribbon and gowden crown,
And made him ane o's finest knights,
For the valour he had done.
D