277
THE WIFE WRAPT IN WETHER’S SKIN
A. a. ‘Sweet Robin,’ Jamieson’s Popular Ballads, I,
319. b. Macmath MS., p. 100, three stanzas.
B. ‘Robin he’s gane to the wude,’ Harris MS., fol.
26 b.
C. ‘The Cooper of Fife,’ Whitelaw, The Book of Scottish
Song, p. 333.
D. Jamieson-Brown MS., Appendix, p. iii.
E. Jamieson’s Popular Ballads, I, 324.
Jamieson cites the first two stanzas of A a
in a letter of inquiry to The Scots Magazine,
October, 1803, p. 700, and the first half of D
(with alterations) in his preface, Popular
Ballads, I, 320. The ballad, he says, is very
popular all over Scotland.
Robin has married a wife of too high kin
to bake or brew, wash or wring. He strips
off a wether’s skin and lays it on her back,
or prins her in it. He dares not beat her,
for her proud kin, but he may beat the wether’s
skin, and does. This makes an ill wife
good.
A fragment in Herd’s MSS, I, 105, II, 161,
belongs, if not to this ballad, at least to one
in which an attempt is made to tame a shrew
by castigation.
‘Now tak a cud in ilka hand
And bace
[90] her up and doun, man,
And she’ll be an o the best wives
That ever took the town, man.’
And Jammie’s turnd him round about,
He’s done a manly feat:
‘Get up, get up, ye dirty slut,
And gie to me my meat.’
‘Say’t oer again, say’t oer again,
Ye thief, that I may hear ye;
I’se gar ye dance upon a peat,
Gin I sall cum but near ye.’
The story of the ballad was in all likelihood
traditionally derived from the good old
tale of the wife lapped in Morrel’s skin.[91]
Here a husband, who has put up with a great
deal from an excessively restive wife, flays
his old horse Morrell and salts the hide, takes
the shrew down cellar, and, after a sharp contest
for mastery, beats her with birchen rods
till she swoons, then wraps her in the salted
hide: by which process the woman is perfectly
reformed.[92]
A
Jamieson’s Popular Ballads, I, 319. “From the recitation
of a friend of the editor’s in Morayshire.”
1
She wadna bake, she wadna brew,
Hollin, green hollin
For spoiling o her comely hue.
Bend your bow, Robin
2
She wadna wash, she wadna wring,
For spoiling o her gay goud ring.
3
Robin he’s gane to the fald
And catched a weather by the spauld.
4
And he has killed his weather black
And laid the skin upon her back.
5
‘I darena pay you, for your kin,
But I can pay my weather’s skin.
6
‘I darena pay my lady’s back,
But I can pay my weather black.’
7
‘O Robin, Robin, lat me be,
And I’ll a good wife be to thee.
8
‘It’s I will wash, and I will wring,
And never mind my gay goud ring.
9
‘It’s I will bake, and I will brew,
And never mind my comely hue.
10
‘And gin ye thinkna that eneugh,
I’se tak the goad and I’se ca the pleugh.
11
‘Gin ye ca for mair whan that is doon,
I’ll sit i the neuk and I’ll dight your shoon.’
B
Harris MS., fol. 26 b, No 25, from Miss Harris.
1
Robin he’s gane to the wast,
Hollin, green hollin
He’s waled a wife amang the warst.
Bend your bows, Robin
2
She could neither bake nor brew,
For spoilin o her bonnie hue.
3
She could neither spin nor caird,
But fill the cup, an sair the laird.
4
She could neither wash nor wring,
For spoilin o her gay goud ring.
5
Robin’s sworn by the rude
That he wald mak an ill wife gude.
6
Robin he’s gaun to the fauld,
An taen his blaik [wither] by the spauld.
7
He’s taen aff his wither’s skin
An he has preened his ain wife in.
8
‘I daurna beat my wife, for a’ her kin,
But I may beat my wither’s skin.’
9
‘I can baith bake an brew;
What care I for my bonnie hue?
10
‘I can baith wash an wring;
What care I for my gay gowd ring?
11
‘I can baith spin an caird;
Lat onybodie sair the laird.’
12
Robin’s sworn by the rude
That he has made an ill wife gude.
C
Whitelaw’s Book of Scottish Song, p. 333.
1
There was a wee cooper who lived in Fife,
Nickity, nackity, noo, noo, noo
And he has gotten a gentle wife.
Hey Willie Wallacky, how John Dougall,
Alane, quo Rushety, roue, roue, roue
2
She wadna bake, nor she wadna brew,
For the spoiling o her comely hue.
3
She wadna card, nor she wadna spin,
For the shaming o her gentle kin.
4
She wadna wash, nor she wadna wring,
For the spoiling o her gouden ring.
5
The cooper’s awa to his woo-pack
And has laid a sheep-skin on his wife’s back.
6
‘It’s I’ll no thrash ye, for your proud kin,
But I will thrash my ain sheep-skin.’
7
‘Oh, I will bake, and I will brew,
And never mair think on my comely hue.
8
‘Oh, I will card, and I will spin,
And never mair think on my gentle kin.
9
‘Oh, I will wash, and I will wring,
And never mair think on my gouden ring.’
10
A’ ye wha hae gotten a gentle wife
Send ye for the wee cooper o Fife.
D
Jamieson-Brown MS., Appendix, p. iii, letter of R. Scott
to Jamieson, June 9, 1805.
1
There livd a laird down into Fife,
Riftly, raftly, now, now, now
An he has married a bonny young wife.
Hey Jock Simpleton, Jenny[’s] white petticoat,
Robin a Rashes, now, now, now
2
He courted her and he brought her hame,
An thought she would prove a thrifty dame.
3
She could neither spin nor caird,
But sit in her chair and dawt the laird.
4
She wadna bake and she wadna brew,
An a’ was for spoiling her delicate hue.
5
She wadna wash nor wad she wring,
For spoiling o her gay goud ring.
6
But he has taen him to his sheep-fauld,
An taen the best weather by the spauld.
7
Aff o the weather he took the skin,
An rowt his bonny lady in.
8
‘I dare na thump you, for your proud kin,
But well sall I lay to my ain weather’s skin.’
E
Jamieson’s Popular Ballads, I, 324.
1
There lives a landart laird in Fife,
And he has married a dandily wife.
2
She wadna shape, nor yet wad she sew,
But sit wi her cummers and fill hersell fu.
3
She wadna spin, nor yet wad she card,
But she wad sit and crack wi the laird.
4
He is down to his sheep-fald
And cleckit a weather by the back-spald.
5
He’s whirpled aff the gude weather’s-skin
And wrappit the dandily lady therein.
6
‘I darena pay you, for your gentle kin,
But weel I may skelp my weather’s-skin.’
A.
a. The refrain, altered by Jamieson, has been
restored from his preface. Five stanzas
added by him at the end have been dropped.
b. From the recitation of Miss Agnes Macmath,
29th April, 1893; learned by her from her
mother, who had it from her mother, Janet
Spark, Kirkcudbrightshire.
2.
She could na wash and she could na wring,
Hey, Wullie Wyliecot, noo, noo, noo
For the spoiling o her gay gold ring.
Wi my Hey, Wullie Wyliecot, tangie dooble,
That robes in the rassiecot, noo, noo, noo
(Refrain perhaps corrupt.)
3.
He’s gane oot unto the fauld,
He’s catched a wather by the spaul.
5.
‘I darena thrash ye, for yer kin,
But I may thrash my ain wather-skin.’