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1 C 

University of California Berkeley 

From the book collection of 

bequeathed by him 
or donated by his wife 

Mildred S. Bronson 





Sum bethe of wer, and sum of wo, 
Sum of joie and mirthe also ; 
And sum of trecherie and of gile, 
Of old aventours that fel while ; 
And sum of bourdes and ribaudy ; 
And many ther beth of fairy ; 
Of all thinges that men seth ; 
Maist o love forsothe thai beth. 

Lay le Freine. 




Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857, 
by LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY, in the Clerk's Office of 
the District Court of Massachusetts. 







List of Collections of Ballads and Songs xiii 


1. The Boy and the Mantle 3 

2. The Horn of King Arthur 17 

3. The Marriage of Sir Gawaine...: 28 

4. King Arthur's Death 40 

5. The Legend of King Arthur 50 

6. Sir Lancelot du Lake 55 

7. The Legend of Sir Guy 61 

8. St. George and the Dragon 69 

9. The Seven Champions of Christendom 83 

10 a. Thomas of Ersseldoune 95 

10 b. Thomas the Khymer 109 

11. The Young Tamlane 114 

12. The Wee Wee Man 126 

13. The Elfin Knight 128 

14 a. The Broomfield Hill 131 

14 b. Lord John 134 

15 a. Kempion 137 

15 b. Kemp Owyne 143 

16. King Henry 147 

17 a. Cospatrick 152 

17 b. Both well.. . . 158 



18. Willie's Ladye 162 

19. Alison Gross 168 

20. The Earl of Mar's Daughter 171 

21 a. Young Akin 179 

21 b. Young Hastings the Groom 189 

22. Clerk Colvill, or, The Mermaid 192 

23 a. Lady Isabel and the Elf-Knight 195 

23 b. The Water 0' Wearie's Well 198 

24 a. The Dasmon Lover 201 

24 b. James Herries 205 

25. The Knight's Ghost 210 

26. The Wife of Usher's Well 213 

27. The Suffolk Miracle. 217 

28. Sir Koland 223 

Fragment of the Ballad of King Arthur and the King of 

Cornwall 231 

Fragment of Child Rowland and Burd Ellen 245 

Rosmer Hafmand, or, The Merman Rosmer 253 

Tam-a-Line 258 

Tom Linn 267 

Burd Ellen and Young Tamlane 271 

Als Y yod on ay Mounday 273 

The Elphin Knight 277 

The Laidley Worm of Spindlestonheugh 281 

Lord Dingwall 288 

Fragment of Hynde Etin 294 

Sir Oluf and the Elf-King's Daughter 298 

Fragment of the Daemon Lover 302 

Constantine and Arete 304 

Translation of the Same 307 

The Hawthorn Tree 311 

St. Stephen and Herod 315 

GLOSSARY . . 319 


THESE volumes have been compiled from the 
numerous collections of Ballads printed since the 
beginning of the last century. They contain all 
but two or three of the ancient ballads of Eng 
land and Scotland, and nearly all those ballads 
which, in either country, have been gathered from 
oral tradition, whether ancient or not. Widely 
different from the true popular ballads, the spon 
taneous products of nature, are the works of the 
professional ballad-maker, which make up the 
bulk of Garlands and Broadsides. These, though 
sometimes not without grace, more frequently not 
lacking in humor, belong to artificial literature, 
of course to an humble department. 1 As 

1 This distinction is not absolute, for several of the ancient 
ballads have a sort of literary character, and many broad 
sides were printed from oral tradition. The only popular 
ballads excluded from this selection that require mention, 
are The Bonny Hynd, The Jolly Beggar, The Baffled Knight, 
The Keach in the Creel, and The Earl of Errol These bal 
lads, in all their varieties, may be found by referring to the 
general Index at the end of the eighth volume. To extend 


many ballads of this second class have been ad 
mitted as it was thought might be wished for, 
perhaps I should say tolerated, by the " benevo 
lent reader." No words could express the dul- 
ness and inutility of a collection which should 
embrace all the Roxburghe and Pepys broadsides 
a scope with which this publication was most 
undeservedly credited by an English journal. 
But while the broadside ballads have been and 
must have been gleaned, the popular ballads 
demand much more liberal treatment. Many of 
the older ones are mutilated, many more are mis 
erably corrupted, but as long as any traces of their 
originals are left, they are worthy of attention and 
have received it. When a ballad is extant in a 
variety of forms, all the most important versions 
are given. Less than this would have seemed 
insufficient for a collection intended as a comple 
ment to an extensive series of the British Poets. 
To meet the objections of readers for pleasure, 
all those pieces which are wanting in general 
interest are in each volume inserted in an ap 

The ballads are grouped in eight Books, nearly 
corresponding to the division of volumes. The 
arrangement in the several Books may be called 
chronological, by which is meant, an arrangement 

the utility of this index, references are also given to many 
other ballads which, though not worth reprinting, may occa 
sionally be inquired for. 


according to the probable antiquity of the story, 
not the age of the actual form or language. Ex 
ceptions to this rule will be observed, partly the 
result of oversight, partly of fluctuating views ; 
the most noticeable case is in the First Book, 
where the ballads that stand at the beginning are 
certainly not so old as some that follow. Again, 
it is very possible that some pieces might with 
advantage be transferred to different Books, but 
it is believed that the general disposition will be 
found practically convenient. It is as follows : 

BOOK I. contains Ballads involving Supersti 
tions of various kinds, as of Fairies, Elves, 
Water-spirits, Enchantment, and Ghostly Appa 
ritions ; and also some Legends of Popular 

BOOK II. Tragic Love-ballads. 

BOOK III. other Tragic Ballads. 

BOOK IV. Love-ballads not Tragic. 

BOOK V. Ballads of Robin Hood, his followers, 
and compeers. 

BOOK VI. Ballads of other Outlaws, especially 
Border Outlaws, of Border Forays, Feuds, &c. 

BOOK VII. Historical Ballads, or those relating 
to public characters or events. 

BOOK VIII. Miscellaneous Ballads, especially 
Humorous, Satirical, Burlesque ; also some speci 
mens of the Moral and Scriptural, and all such 
pieces as had been overlooked in arranging the 
earlier volumes. 


For the Texts, the rule has been to select the 
most authentic copies, and to reprint them as they 
stand in the collections, restoring readings that 
had been changed without grounds, and noting all 
deviations from the originals, whether those of 
previous editors or of this edition, in the margin. 
Interpolations acknowledged by the editors have 
generally been dropped. In two instances only 
have previously printed texts been superseded or 
greatly improved : the text of The Horn of King 
Arthur, in the first volume, was furnished from 
the manuscript, by J. O. Halliwell, Esq., and 
Adam Bel, in the fifth volume, has been amended 
by a recently discovered fragment of an excellent 
edition, kindly communicated by J. P. Collier, 

The Introductory Notices prefixed to the seve 
ral ballads may seem dry and somewhat meagre. 
They will be found, it is believed, to comprise 
what is most essential ^even for the less cursory 
reader to know. These prefaces are intended to 
give an account of all the printed forms of each 
ballad, and references to the books in which they 
were first published. In many cases also, the 
corresponding ballads in other languages, espe 
cially in Danish, Swedish, and German, are briefly 
pointed out. But these last notices are very im 
perfect. Fascinating as such investigations are, 
they could not be allowed to interfere with the 
progress of the series of Poets of which this col- 


lection of Ballads forms a part, nor were the 
necessary books immediately at hand. At a more 
favorable time the whole subject may be resumed, 
unless some person better qualified shall take it 
up in the interim. 

While upon this point let me make the warm 
est acknowledgments for the help received from 
Grundtvig's Ancient Popular Ballads of Den 
mark (Danmarks Gamle Folkeviser), a work 
which has no equal in its line, and which may 
in every way serve as a model for collections of 
National Ballads. Such a work as Grundtvig's 
can only be imitated by an English editor, never 
equalled, for the material is not at hand. All 
Denmark seems to have combined to help on his 
labors ; schoolmasters and clergymen, in those 
retired nooks where tradition longest lingers, have 
been very active in taking down ballads from 
the mouths of the people, and a large number 
of old manuscripts have been placed at his dis 
posal. We have not even the Percy Manu 
script at our command, and must be content to 
take the ballads as they are printed in the Re- 
ligues, with all the editor's changes. This manu 
script is understood to be in the hands of a dealer 
who is keeping it from the public in order to en 
hance its value. The greatest service that can 
now be done to English Ballad-literature is to 
publish this precious document. Civilization has 
made too great strides in the island of Great 


Britain for us to expect much more from tradi 

Certain short romances which formerly stood 
in the First Book, have been dropped from this 
second Edition, in order to give the collection a 
homogeneous character. One or two ballads have 
been added, and some of the prefaces considera 
bly enlarged. F. J. C. 

May, 1860. 



[This list does not include (excepting a few reprints) the 
collections of Songs, Madrigals, " Ballets," &c., published in 
the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the titles of most 
of which are to be seen in Rimbault's Bibliolheca Madrigal- 
iana. On the other hand, it does include a few useful books 
connected with ballad-poetry which would not properly come 
into a list of collections. The relative importance of the 
works in this list is partially indicated by difference of type. 
When two or more editions are mentioned, those used in this 
collection are distinguished by brackets. A few books 
which we have not succeeded in finding all of slight or no 
importance are marked with a star.] 

"A Choise Collection of Comic and Serious Scots Poems. 
Both Ancient and Modern. By several Hands. Edinburgh. 
Printed by James Watson." Three Parts, 1706, 1709, 1710. 
[1713, 1709, 1711.] 

"Miscellany Poems, containing a variety of new Translations 
of the Ancient Poets, together with several original poems. 
By the most eminent hands." Ed. by Dryden. 6 vols. 
1st ed. 1684-1708. Ed. of 1716* contains ballads not in the 
earlier ones. 

" Wit and Mirth : or Pills to Purge Melancholy ; being 
a Collection of the best Merry Ballads and Songs, Old 
and New. Fitted to all Humours, having each their 
proper Tune for either Voice or Instrument : most 
of the Songs being new set." By Thomas D'Urfey. 
6 vols. London. 1719-20. 

from the best and most ancient Copies extant. 
With Introductions Historical, Critical, or Humor- 


ous." 3 vols. London. 1st and 2d vol. 1723, 3d vol. 

" The Evergreen. Being a Collection of Scots Poems, 
Wrote by the Ingenious before 1600. Published 
by Allan Ramsay." 2 vols. Edinburgh, 1724. 
[Edinburgh. Printed for Alex. Donaldson, 1761.] 

" The Tea-Table MisceUany: A Collection of Choice 
Songs, Scots and English." Edinburgh. 1724. 
4 vols. [Glasgow, R & A. Foulis. 1768. 2 vols.] 

" Orpheus Caledonius, or a Collection of Scots Songs, Set to 
Musick by W. Thomson." London, 1725, fol. [1733, 2 vols. 

" The Hive. A Collection of the most celebrated Songs." 
In Four Volumes. 4th ed. London. 1732. 

" The British Musical Miscellany, or The Delightful Grove, 
being a collection of celebrated English and Scottish 
Songs." London. 1733-36. 

sisting of Old Heroic Ballads, Songs, and other 
Pieces of our Earlier Poets ; together with some 
few of later date. By THOMAS PERCY, Lord 
Bishop of Dromore." 3 vols. 1st ed. London, 
1765. [4th ed. (improved) 1794. London, L. A. 
Lewis, 1839.] 

Ballads, &c." By DAVID HERD. 2 vols. Edin 
burgh, 1769. 2d ed. 1776. [3d ed. Printed for 
Lawrie and Symington, 1791.] 

" Ancient Scottish Poems. Published from the MS. of George 
Bannatyne, MDLXVIII." By Sir David Dalrymple, Lord 
Hailes. Edinburgh, 1770. 


"The Choice Spirit's Chaplet: or a Poesy from Parnassus, 
being a Select Collection of Songs from the most approved 
authors : many of them written and the whole compiled by 
George Alexander Stevens, Esq." Whitehaven, 1771. 

" A Collection of English Songs in score for three or four 
Voices. Composed about the year 1500. Taken from 
MSS. of the same age. Kevised and digested by John 
Stafford Smith." London, 1779. 

" Scottish Tragic Ballads." John Pinkerton. Lon 
don, 1781. 

" Two Ancient Scottish Poems ; The Gaberlunzie-Man and 
Christ's Kirk on the Green. With Notes and Observations. 
By John Callender, Esq. of Craigforth." Edinburgh, 1782. 

"The Charmer: A Collection of Songs, chiefly such as are 
eminent for poetical merit ; among which are many orig 
inals, and others that were never before printed in a song- 
book." 2 vols. 4th ed. Edinburgh, 1782. 

" Select Scottish Ballads." 2 vols. John Pinkerton. 
London, 1783. Vol. I. Tragic Ballads, Vol. H. 
Comic Ballads. 

"A Select Collection of English Songs, with their 
Original Airs, and an Historical Essay on the Origin 
and Progress of National Song." By J. Ritson. 
1783. 2d ed. with Additional Songs and Occasional 
Notes, by Thomas Park. London, 1813. 3 vols. 

" The Poetical Museum. Containing Songs and 
Poems on almost every subject. Mostly from 
Periodical Publications." George Caw. Hawick, 

M The Bishopric Garland or Durham Minstrel." Edited by 
Ritson. Stockton, 1784. Newcastle, 1792. [London, 
1809.] See " Northern Garlands," p. xix. 

* "The New British Songster. A Collection of Songs, Scots 


and English, with Toasts and Sentiments for the Bottle." 
Falkirk, 1785. 

"Ancient Scottish Poems, never before in print, but now 
published from the MS. collections of Sir Richard Mait- 
land," &c. John Pinkerton. 2 vols. London, 1786. 

" The Works of James L, King of Scotland." To which are 
added " Two Ancient Scotish Poems, commonly ascribed 
to King James V." (The Gaberlunzie-Man and the Jollie 
Beggar.) Morrison's Scotish Poets. Poets. Perth, 1786. 

" THE SCOTS MUSICAL MUSEUM. In six volumes. 
Consisting of Six Hundred Scots Songs, with 
proper Basses for the Piano Forte," &c. By James 
Johnson. Edinburgh, 1787-1803. [3d ed. "with 
copious Notes and Illustrations of the Lyric Poetry 
and Music of Scotland, by the late Wiliam Sten- 
house," and "with additional Notes and Illustra 
tions," by David Laing. -4 vols. Edinburgh and 
London, 1853.] 

" The Yorkshire Garland." Edited by Ritson. York, 1788. 
See " Northern Garlands," p. xix. 

* "A Select Collection of Favourite Scottish Ballads." 6 vols. 
B. Morison & Son. Perth, 1790. 

" Pieces of Ancient Popular Poetry : From Authentic 
Manuscripts and Old Printed Copies. By Joseph 
Ritson, Esq." London, 1791. [Second Edition, 
London, 1833.] 

" Ancient Songs and Ballads, from the Reign of King 
Henry the Second to the Revolution. Collected 
by Joseph Ritson, Esq." 2 vols. Printed 1787, 
dated 1790, published 1792. [London, 1829.] 

" Scottish Poems, reprinted from scarce editions, with three 


pieces before unpublished." Collected by John Pinkerton. 
3 vols. London, 1792. 

* " The Melodies of Scotland, &c. The Poetry chiefly by 
Burns. The whole collected by George Thomson." Lond. 
& Edin. 6 vols. 1793-1841. See p. xx., last title but one. 

" The Northumberland Garland." Edited by Ritson. New 
castle, 1793. [London, 1809.] See " Northern Garlands," 
p. xix. 

" SCOTISH SONG. In two volumes." JOSEPH RIT 
SON. London, 1794. 

" ROBIN HOOD : A Collection of all the Ancient 
Poems, Songs and Ballads, now extant, relative to 
that celebrated English Outlaw. To which are 
prefixed Historical Anecdotes of his Life. By 
JOSEPH RITSON, Esq." 2 vols. 1795. [Second 
Edition, London, 1832.] 

" A Collection of English Songs, with an Appendix of Orig 
inal Pieces." London, 1796. Lord Hailes. 

* " An Introduction to the History of Poetry in Scotland, &c., 
by Alexander Campbell, to which are subjoined Songs of 
the Lowlands of Scotland, carefully compared with the 
original editions." Edinburgh, 1798. 4to. 

" Tales of Wonder ; Written and collected by M. G. 
Lewis, Esq., M. P." 2 vols. London, 1800. [New- 
York, 1801.] 

" Scottish Poems of the Sixteenth Century." Ed. by J. G. 
Dalzell. Edinburgh, 1801. 2 vols. (Contains "Ane Com 
pendious Booke of Godly and Spirituall Songs, collectit 
out of sundrie Partes of the Scripture, with sundrie of 
other Ballates, changed out of Prophaine Sanges for avoyd- 
ing of Sinne and Harlotrie, with Augmentatioun of sundrie 
Gude and Godly Ballates, not contained in the first Edition. 
VOL. I. b 


Newlie corrected and amended by the first Originall Copie. 
Edinburgh, printed by Andro Hart.") 

"The Complaynt of Scotland. Written in 1548. With a 
Preliminary Dissertation and Glossary." By John Leyden. 
Edinburgh, 1801. 

"Chronicle of Scottish Poetry ; from the Thirteenth Century 
to the Union of the Crowns." By J. Sibbald. 4 vols. 
Edinburgh, 1802. 

" The North-Country Chorister." Edited by J. Kitson. 
Durham, 1802. [London, 1809.] See " Northern Gar 
lands," p. xix. 

sisting of Historical and Romantic Ballads, collected 
in the Southern Counties of Scotland ; with a few 
of modern date founded upon local tradition." 1st 
and 2d vols. 1802, 3d 1803. [Poetical Works of 
SIR WALTER SCOTT, vols. 1-4. Cadell, Edin 
burgh, 1851.] 

" The Wife of Auchtermuchty. An ancient Scottish Poem, 
with a translation into Latin Rhyme." Edinburgh, 1803. 

" A Collection of Songs, Moral, Sentimental, Instructive, and 
Amusing." By James Plumtre. 4to. Cambridge, 1805. 
London, 1824. 3 vols. 

Manuscripts, and scarce Editions ; with translations 
of similar pieces from the ancient Danish language, 
and a few originals by the Editor. By ROBERT 
JAMIESON." 2 vols. Edinburgh, 1806. 

" Ancient ( ! ) Historic Ballads." Newcastle, 1807. 

" Scottish Historical and Romantic Ballads, chiefly 
ancient." By John Finlay. 2 vols. Edinburhg, 


" Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway Song," &c. By K. H. 
Cromek. London, 1810. 

" Old Ballads, Historical and Narrative, with some of 
modern date : collected from Rare Copies and MSS." 
By Thomas Evans. 2 vols. 1777. 4 vols. 1784. 
[New edition, revised and enlarged by R. H. Evans. 
4 vols. London, 1810.] 

u Select Scottish Songs, Ancient and Modern, with Critical 
and Biographical Notices, by Robert Burns. Edited by 
R. H. Cromek." London. 1810. 2 vols. 

" Essay on Song- Writing ; with a Selection of such English 
Songs as are most eminent for poetical merit. By John 
Aiken. A new edition, with Additions and Corrections, 
and a Supplement by R. H. Evans." London, 1810. 

"Northern Garlands." London, 1810. (Contains The Bishop 
ric, Yorkshire, and Northumberland Garlands, and The 
North-Country Chorister, before mentioned.) 

" Bibliographical Miscellanies, being a Collection of Curious 
Pieces in Verse and Prose." By Dr. Bliss. Oxford, 1813. 

" Illustrations of Northern Antiquities, from the earlier 
Teutonic and Scandinavian Romances, &c., with 
translations of Metrical Tales from the Old German, 
Danish, Swedish, and Icelandic Languages." 4to. 
By Weber, Scott, and Jamieson. Edinburgh, 1814. 

" Pieces of ancient Poetry, from unpublished Manuscripts and 
scarce Books." Fry. Bristol, 1814. 

" A Collection of Ancient and Modern Scottish Ballads, Tales, 
and Songs: with explanatory Notes and Observations." 
By John Gilchrist. 2 vols. Edinburgh, 1815. 

" Heliconia. Comprising a Selection of the Poetry of the 
Elizabethan age, written or published between 1576 and 
1604." Edited by T. Park. 3 vols. London, 1815. 


* " Albyn's Anthology." By Alexander Campbell. Edin 
burgh, 1816. 

" The Pocket Encyclopedia of Song." 2 vols. Glasgow, 

" Calliope : A Selection of Ballads, Legendary and Pathetic." 
London, 1816. 

Facetiae. Musarum Delicise (1656), Wit Restor'd 
(1658), and Wits Recreations (1640). 2 vols. 
London, 1817. 

" The Suffolk Garland : or a Collection of Poems, Songs, 
Tales, Ballads, Sonnets, and Elegies, relative to that coun 
ty." Ipswich, 1818. 

" The Jacobite Relics of Scotland : being the Songs, 
Airs, and Legends of the adherents to the House 
of Stuart. Collected and illustrated by James 
Hogg." 2 vols. Edinburgh, 1819 and 1821. 

" The Harp of Caledonia : A Collection of Songs, Ancient 
and Modern, chiefly Scottish," &c. ByJohnStrathers. 3 vols. 
Glasgow, 1819. 

" The New Notborune Mayd." Roxburghe Club. London, 

" The Scottish Minstrel, a Selection from the Vocal Melodies 
of Scotland, Ancient and Modern, arranged for the Piano- 
Forte by R. A. Smith." 6 vols. 1820-24. 

* " The British Minstrel, a Selection of Ballads, Ancient and 
Modern ; with Notes, Biographical and Critical. By John 
Struthers." Glasgow, 1821. 

" Scarce Ancient Ballads, many never before published." 
Aberdeen. Alex. Laing, 1822. 

" The Select Melodies of Scotland, interspersed with those 
of Ireland and Wales," &c. By George Thomson. Lon 
don. 6 vols. 1822-25. 

" Select Remains of the Ancient Popular Poetry of 

Scotland." By David Laing. Edinburgh, 1822. 
" The Beauties of English Poetry." London, 1823. 


"The Thistle of Scotland; a Selection of Ancient Ballads, 
with Notes. By Alexander Laing." Aberdeen, 1823. 

" Some ancient Christmas Carols, with the tunes to which 
they were formerly sung in the West of England ; together 
with two ancient Ballads, a Dialogue, &c. Collected by 
Davies Gilbert." The Second Edition. London, 1823. 

" A Collection of Curious Old Ballads and Miscellaneous 
Poetry." David Webster. Edinburgh, 1824. 

" A Ballad Book." By Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe. 
1824. (30 copies printed.) 

" A North Countrie Garland." By James Maidment 
Edinburgh, 1824. (30 copies printed.) 

" The Common-Place Book of Ancient and Modern Ballad 
and Metrical Legendary Tales. An Original Selection, 
including many never before published." Edinburgh, 1824. 

* " The Scottish Caledonian Encyclopaedia; or, the Original, 
Antiquated, and Natural Curiosities of the South of Scot 
land, interspersed with Scottish Poetry." By John Mac- 
taggart. London, 1824. 

" Gleanings of Scotch, English, and Irish scarce Old 
Ballads, chiefly Tragical and Historical." By Peter 
Buchan. Peterhead, 1825. 

" The Songs of Scotland, Ancient and Modern ; with 
an Introduction and Notes," &c. By Allan Cun 
ningham. 4 vols. London, 1825. 

"Early Metrical Tales." By David Laing. Edinburgh, 

Tradition, and never before published : with Notes, 
Historical and Explanatory, and an Appendix, con 
taining the Airs of several of the Ballads." By 
GEORGE R. KINLOCH. Edinburgh, 1827. 


Historical Introduction and Notes. By 'WILLIAM 
MOTHERWELL." Glasgow, 1827. 

" The Ballad-Book." By George R. Kinloch. Edin 
burgh, 1827. (30 copies printed.) 

" Ancient Ballads and Songs, chiefly from Tradition, 
Manuscripts, and Scarce Works," &c. By Thomas 
Lyle. London, 1827. 

" The Knightly Tale of Golagrus and Gawane, and other An 
cient Poems. Printed at Edinburgh, by W. Chepman and 
A. Myllar in the year M. D. VIII. Reprinted MD. CCC. 

" Ancient Ballads and Songs of the North of Scotland, 
hitherto unpublished." By Peter Buchan. 2 vols. 
Edinburgh, 1828. 

"Jacobite Minstrelsy, with Notes illustrative of the Text, 
and containing Historical Details in Relation to the House 
of Stuart from 1640 to 1784." Glasgow, 1829. 

" The Scottish Ballads ; Collected and Illustrated by 
Robert Chambers." Edinburgh, 1829. 

"The Scottish Songs; Collected and Illustrated by 
Robert Chambers." 2 vols. Edinburgh, 1829. 

"Ancient Metrical Tales: printed chiefly from Original 
Sources." By C. H. Hartshorne. London, 1829. 

" Christmas Carols, Ancient and Modern, including the most 
popular in the West of England, and the airs to which 
they were sung," &c. By W. Sandys. London, 1833. 

" The Bishoprick Garland, or a collection of Legends, Songs, 
Ballads, &c., belonging to the County of Durham." By 
Sir Cuthbert Sharp. London, 1834. 

" The Universal Songster, or Museum of Mirth, forming the 
most complete, extensive, and valuable collection of An 
cient and Modern Songs in the English language. 3 vols. 
London. 1834. 


" Hugues de Lincoln. Recueil de Ballades, Anglo- 
Normande et Ecossoises, relatives an meurtre de 
cet enfant," &c. Francisque Michel. Paris, 1834. 

" Ballads and other Fugitive Poetical Pieces, chiefly Scot 
tish; from the collections of Sir James Balfour." Edin 
burgh, 1834. Ed. by James Maidment. 

" Lays and Legends of Various Nations." By W. J. Thorns. 
London, 1834. 5 parts. 

" The Songs of England and Scotland." By Peter 
Cunningham. 2 vols. London, 1835. 

" Songs and Carols. Printed from a Manuscript in the 
Sloane Collection in the British Museum." By T. Wright. 
London, 1836. 

" The Nutbrown Maid. From the earliest edition of 
Arnold's Chronicle." By T. Wright. London, 

" The Turnament of Totenham, and The. Feest. Two early 
Ballads, printed from a Manuscript preserved in the Public 
Library of the University of Cambridge." By T. Wright. 
London, 1836. 

" A Little Book of Ballads." Newport, 1836. Printed by 
E. V. Utterson for the Koxburghe Club. 

" Ancient Scotish Melodies, from a Manuscript of the 
Reign of King James VI., with an Introductory En 
quiry illustrative of the History of Music in Scot 
land." By William Dauney. Edinburgh, 1838. 

" Syr Gawayne; a collection of Ancient Romance- 
Poems, by Scotish and English authors, relating to 
riiat celebrated Knight of the Round Table, with an 
Introduction, Notes, and a Glossary." By Sir Fred. 
Madden. Bannatyne Club. London, 1839. 


* " Fruhlingsgabe fur Freunde alterer Literatur." By Th. 
G. v. Karajan. Vienna, 1839. (Contains English ballads.) 

' The Political Songs of England, from the Reign of John 
to that of Edward II. Edited and translated by Thomas 
Wright." London, 1839. Camden Society. 

" A Collection of National English Airs, consisting of 
Ancient Song, Ballad, and Dance Tunes, inter 
spersed with Remarks and Anecdote, and preceded 
by an Essay on English Minstrelsy." By W. Chap- 
pell. 2 vols. London, 1838-1840. (see post.) 

" The Latin Poems commonly attributed to Walter Mapes, 
collected and edited by Thomas Wright." London, 1841. 
Camden Society. 



Vol. I. " Old Ballads, from Early Printed Copies of 
the Utmost Rarity." By J. Payne Collier. 1 840. 

" A Collection of Songs and Ballads relative to the Lon 
don Prentices and Trades, and to the Affairs of London 
generally, during the 14th, 15th, and 16th centuries." 
By Charles Mackay. 1841. 

"The Historical Songs of Ireland: illustrative of the 
Revolutionary Struggle between James II. and William 
III. By T. Crofton Croker. 1841. 

" The King and a Poor Northern Man. From the edition 
of 1640." 1841. 

Vo II. " The Early Naval Ballads of England. Collected 
and edited by J. 0. Halliwell." 1841. 

" The Mad Pranks and Merry Jests of Robin Goodfellow. 
Reprinted from the edition of 1628." By J. Payne 
Collier. 1841. 


Vol. HI. " Political Ballads published in England 
during the Commonwealth." By Thomas Wright. 

" Strange Histories : consisting of Ballads and other 
Poems, principally by Thomas Deloney. From 
the edition of 1607." 1841. 

" The History of Patient Grisel. Two early Trac ts 
in Black-letter." 1842. 

Vol. IV. " The Nursery Rhymes of England, collected princi 
pally from oral Tradition." By J. 0. Halliwell. 1842. 
Vol. VI. " Ancient Poetical Tracts of the Sixteenth Cen 
tury." Reprinted from unique Copies. By E. F. Rim- 
bault. 1842. 

" The Crown Garland of Golden Roses : Consisting 
of Ballads and Songs. By Richard Johnson." Part 
I. From the edition of 1612. 1842. [Part H., from 
the edition of 1659, in vol. xv.] 

Vol. IX. " Old Ballads illustrating the great Frost of 1683-4, 
and the Fair on the Thames." Collected and edited by 
E. F. Rimbault, 1844. 

Vol. XIII. " Six Ballads with Burdens." By James Good 
win. 1844. 

" Lyrical Poems selected from Musical Publications be 
tween the years 1589 and 1600." By J. P. Collier. 
Vol. XV. "The Crown Garland of Golden Roses. 

Part II. From the edition of 1659." 1845. 
Vol. XVII. " Scottish Traditional Versions of An 
cient Ballads." [From a MS. of Buchan's.] 
Edited by James Henry Dixon. 1845. 
" Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs of the Peas 
antry of England, taken down from oral recita 
tion, and transcribed from private manuscripts, 


rare broadsides, and scarce publications. Col 
lected and edited by James Henry Dixon." 

Vol. XIX. " The Civic Garland. A Collection of Songs from 
London Pageants." By F. W. Fairholt. 1845. 

Vol. XXI. " Popular Songs illustrative of the French Invas 
ions of Ireland." By T. Crofton Croker. 1845. 

Vol. XXIII. " Songs and Carols, now first printed from a 
manuscript of the Fifteenth Century." By Thomas 
Wright, 1847. 

" Festive Songs, principally of the 16th and 17th centuries : 
with an Introduction." By William Sandys. 1848. 

VoL XXVII. " Satirical Songs and Poems on Costume: from 
the 13th to the 19th century." By F. W. Fairholt. 

Vol. XXIX. " The Loyal Garland: a Collection of Songs of 
the 17th century. Reprinted from a black-letter copy 
supposed to be unique." By J. 0. Halliwell. 1850. 

" Poems and Songs relating to George Villiers, Duke of 
Buckingham, and his assassination by John Felton." 
By F. W. Fairholt. 

Vol. XXX. " The Garland of Goodwill, by Thomas 
Deloney." From the edition of 1678. By J. H. 
Dixon. 1852. 

" Popular Rhymes, Fireside Stories, and Amusements of 
Scotland." By Robert Chambers, Edinburgh. 1842. 
[Earlier edition in 1826.] 

" Selections from the Early Ballad Poetry of England and 
Scotland. Edited by Richard John King." London, 1842. 

"The Book of British Ballads." By S. C. Hall. 
2 vols. 1842, 1844. 

"The Book of Scottish Song: collected and illus- 


trated with Historical and Critical Notices, and an 
Essay on the Song- Writers of Scotland." By Alex. 
Whitelaw. 1843. [Glasgow, Edinburgh and Lon 
don, 1855.] 

" A New Book of Old Ballads." By James Maidment. 
Edinburgh, 1844. [60 copies printed.] 

* Twelve Romantic Scottish Ballads, with Music. Cham 
bers, 1844. 

Publications of the Shakespeare Society : 
" The Shakespeare Society Papers." Vol. I. 1844. Vol. IV. 

"Illustrations of the Fairy Mythology of A Midsummer 
Night's Dream." By J. 0. Halliwell. 1845. 

" The Moral Play of Wit and Science, and Early Poetical 
Miscellanies from an Unpublished Manuscript." By J. 0. 
Halliwell. 1848. 

" Extracts from the Registers of the Stationers' Com 
pany, of Works entered for publication between the 
years 1557 and 1570. With Notes and Illustra 
tions by J. Payne Collier." 1848. Vol. IT. [1570- 
1587.] 1849. 

" The Book of Scottish Ballads ; collected and illus 
trated with Historical and Critical Notices. By 
Alex. Whitelaw." Glasgow, Edinburgh & London. 

"Reliquiae Antiquae." Wright & Halliwell. 2 vols. Lon 
don, 1845. 

u Essays on Subjects connected with the Literature, Popular 
Superstitions, and History of England in the Middle Ages." 
By Thomas Wright. 2 vols. London, 1846. 

"The Borderer's Table Book: or Gatherings of the Local 


History and Romance of the English and Scottish Border. 
By M. A. Richardson." 8 vols. Newcastle-upon-Tyne 

"The Ballads and Songs of Ayrshire," &c. By James 
Paterson and Captain Charles Gray. 2 vols. Ayr, 1846- 

"The Minstrelsy of the English Border. Being a Collection 
of Ballads, Ancient, Remodelled, and Original, founded on 
well-known Border Legends. With Illustrative Notes." 
By Frederick Sheldon. London, 1847. 

" A Book of Roxburghe Ballads. Edited by John 
Payne Collier." London, 1847. 

" Bibliotheca Madrigaliana. A Bibliographical Account of the 
Musical and Poetical Works published in England during 
the 16th and 17th centuries, under the titles of Madrigals, 
Ballets, Ayres, Canzonets," &c. By E. F. Rimbault. 

" A Lytell Geste of Robin Hode, with other Ancient 
and Modern Ballads and Songs relating to this cel 
ebrated Yeoman," &c. By John Mathew Gutch. 
2 vols. London. 1847. 

" Sir Hugh of Lincoln : or an Examination of a curious 
tradition respecting the Jews, with a Notice of the 
Popular Poetry connected with it. By the Rev. 
Abraham Hume." London, 1849. 

" Ballads and Poems respecting Hugh of Lincoln." J. 0. 
Halliwell. Brixton Hill, 1849. 

" The Ballad of Edwin and Emma. By David Mallet." With 
Notes and Illustrations by Frederick T. Dinsdale. London, 

" Musical Illustrations of Bishop Percy's Reliques of 
Ancient English Poetry. A Collection of Old 
Ballad Tunes, etc. chiefly from rare MSS. and 


early Printed Books," &c. By Edward F. Rim- 
bault. London, 1850. 

" The Fairy Mythology. Elusfcrative of the Romance 
and Superstition of various Countries." By Thomas 
Keightley. London, 1850. 

" Palatine Anthology. A Collection of ancient Poems and 
Ballads relating to Lancashire and Cheshire. The Pala 
tine Garland. Being a Selection of Ballads and Frag 
ments supplementary to the Palatine Anthology." By J. 
0. Halliwell. 1850. [Privately printed.] 

" A New Boke about Shakespeare and Stratford-on-Avon." 
By J. 0. Halliwell. 1850. [Privately printed. ] 

" A Little Book of Songs and Ballads, gathered from Ancient 
Musick Books, MS. and Printed." By E. F. Rimbault. 
London, 1851. 

"The Sussex Garland. A collection of Ballads, Sonnets, 
Tales, Elegies, Songs, Epitaphs, &c. illustrative of 
the County of Sussex." By James Taylor. Newick, 

" The Yorkshire Anthology. A Collection of Ancient and 
Modern Ballads, Poems and Songs, relating to the County 
of Yorkshire. Collected by J. 0. Halliwell." London, 
1851. [Privately printed.] 

" The Norfolk Anthology. A Collection of Poems, Ballads, 
and Rare Tracts, relating to the County of Norfolk." Col 
lected by J. 0. Halliwell. 1852. [Privately printed.] 

" The Illustrated Book of English Songs. From the 
Sixteenth to the Nineteenth Century. Illustrated 
London Library. London, (about) 1852. 

" The Illustrated Book of Scottish Songs. From the 
Sixteenth to the Nineteenth Century. Illustrated 
London Library. London, (about) 1852. 


" The Great Hero of the Ancient Minstrelsy of England, 
Robin Hood," &c. By Joseph Hunter. London, 1852. 

" The Literature and Romance of Northern Europe, 
&c.; with copious specimens of the most celebrated 
Histories, Eomances, Popular Legends and Tales, 
old Chivalrous Ballads," &c. By William & Mary 
Howitt. 2 vols. London, 1852. 

u The Pictorial Book of Ancient Ballad Poetry of Great 
Britain, Historical, Traditional, and Romantic: to which 
are added a Selection of Modern Imitations, and some 
Translations." By J. S. Moore. London, 1853. 

" The Songs of Scotland adapted to their appropriate 
Melodies," &c. Illustrated with Historical, Bio 
graphical, and Critical Notices. By George Far- 
quhar Graham. 3 vols. Edinburgh, 1854-6 

" Songs from the Dramatists." Edited by Robert Bell. An 
notated Edition of the English Poets. London, 1854. 

" Popular Music of the Olden Time ; a Collection of 
Ancient Songs, Ballads, and Dance Tunes, illustra 
tive of the National Music of England. With short 
introductions to the different reigns, and notices of 
the airs from writers of the 16th and 17th cen 
turies. Also a short account of the Minstrels." 
By W. Chappell. London. Begun, 1855. Com 
plete in 2 vols. 

" Reliques of Ancient Poetry, &c. (Percy's.) To which is 
now added a Supplement of many curious Historical and 
Narrative Ballads, reprinted from Rare Copies." Phila 
delphia, 1855. 

"Early Ballads illustrative of History, Traditions and 
Customs." By R. Bell. Annotated Edition of the English 
Poets. London, 1856. 

u Ballads and Songs. By David Mallet. A new Edition, 


with Notes and Illustrations and a Memoir of the Author." 
By Frederick Dinsdale. London, 1857. 

" Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry of 
England. Edited by Robert Bell." London, 1857. 

4 The Ballads of Scotland. Edited by William Edmondstoune 
Aytoun." 2 vols. Edinburgh and London, 1858. 2d ed., 

" The Romantic Scottish Ballads: Their Epoch and Author 
ship. Edinburgh Papers. By Robert Chambers." Lond. 
& Ed. 1859. 

"The Romantic Scottish Ballads and the Lady Wardlaw 
Heresy. By Norval Clyne." Aberdeen, 1859. 

"Political Poems and Songs relating to English History, 
composed during the Period from the Accession of Edward 
III. to that of Richard III." By Thomas Wright. Vol. I. 
London, 1859. (Published by the British Government.) 

The Ballads and Songs of Yorkshire. By C. J. D. Ingle- 
dew. (Announced.) 

The Jacobite Minstrelsy of Scotland. By Charles Mackay 

The Gentleman's Magazine, * The Scots Magazine, The 
Retrospective Review, The British Bibliographer, Censura 
Literaria, Restituta, Notes and Queries, &c. 

The full titles of the principal collections of ballad -poetry 
in other languages, referred to in these volumes, are as fol 
lows : 
" Udvalgte Danske Viser fra Middelalderen ; efter 

A. S. Vedels og P. Syvs trykte Udgaver og efter 

haandskrevne Samlinger udgivne paa ny af Abra- 

hamson, Nyerup, og Rahbek." Copenhagen, 1812- 

1814. 5 vols. 

SVEND GRUNDTVIG. 2 vols., and the first part of 

the third. Copenhagen, 1853-58. 


" Svenska Folk- Visor fran Forntiden, samlade och 

utgifne af Er. Gust. Geijer och Arv. Aug. Afzelius." 

Stockholm, 1814-1816. 3 vols. 
" Svenska Fornsanger. En Samling af Kampavisor, 

Folk- Visor, Lekar och Dansar, samt Barn- och 

Vall-Sanger. Utgifne af Adolf Iwar Arwidsson." 

Stockholm, 1834-1842. 3 vols. 
" Altdanische Heldenlieder, Balladen, und Mahrchen, 

iibersetzt von Wilhelm Carl Grimm." Heidelberg, 

" Des Knaben Wunderhorn. Alte deutsche Lieder." 

Arnim & Brentano. 3 vols. Heidelberg, 1806-8. 

2ded. of first part in 1819. 
"Die Volkslieder der Deutschen, etc. Herausgege- 

ben durch Friedrich Karl Freiherrn von Erlach." 

Mannheim, 1834-36. 5 vols. 
" Versuch einer geschichtlichen Charakteristik der 

Volkslieder Gerinanischer Nationen, mit einer 

tJebersicht der Lieder aussereuropaischer Volker- 

schaften." Von Talvj. Leipzig, 1840. 
" Schlesische Volkslieder mit Melodien. Aus dem 

Munde des Volks gesammelt und herausgegeben von 

Hoffmann von Fallersleben und Ernst Richter." 

Leipzig, 1842. 
" Alte hoch- und niederdeutsche Volkslieder, in Fiinf 

Biichern, herausgegeben von Ludwig Uhland." 

2 vols. Stuttgart, 1844-5. 
" Deutscher Liederhort. Auswahl der vorziiglichern 

deutschen Volkslieder aus der Vorzeit und der 

Gegenwart mit ihren eigenthumlichen Melodien." 

Von Ludwig Erk. Berlin, 1856. 
" Niederlandische Volkslieder. Gesammelt und er- 

lautert von Hoffmann von Fallersleben." 2d ed. 

Hannover, 1856. 



No incident is more common in romantic fiction, 
than the employment of some magical contrivance as a 
test of conjugal fidelity, or of constancy in love. In 
some romances of the Round Table, and tales founded 
upon them, this experiment is performed by means 
either of an enchanted horn, of such properties that 
no dishonoured husband or unfaithful wife can drink 
from it without spilling, or of a mantle which will fit 
none but chaste women. The earliest known instances 
of the use of these ordeals are afforded by the Lai 
du Corn, by Robert Bikez, a French minstrel of the 
twelfth or thirteenth century, and the Fabliau du 
Mantel MautaiM, which, in the opinion of a competent 
critic, dates from the second half of the thirteenth cen 
tury, and is only the older lay worked up into a new 
shape. (Wolf, Ueber die Lais, 327, sq., 342, sq.) We 
are not to suppose, however, that either of these pieces 
presents us with the primitive form of this humorous 
invention. Robert Bikez tells us that he learned his 
story from an abbot, and that " noble ecclesiast" stood 


but one further back in a line of tradition which 
curiosity will never follow to its source. We shall 
content ourselves with noticing the most remarkable 
cases of the use of these and similar talismans in imagi 
native literature. 

In the Roman de Tristan, a composition of unknown 
antiquity, the frailty of nearly all the ladies at the court 
of King Marc is exposed by their essaying a draught 
from the marvellous horn, (see the English Morte Ar 
thur, Southey's ed. i. 297.) In the Roman de Perce 
val, the knights, as well as the ladies, undergo this pro 
bation. From some one of the chivalrous romances 
Ariosto adopted the wonderful vessel into his Orlando, 
(xlii. 102, sq., xliii. 31, sq.,) and upon his narrative 
La Fontaine founded the tale and the comedy of La 
Coupe Enchantee. In German, we have two versions 
of the same story, one, an episode in the Krone of 
Heinrich vom Tiirlein, thought to have been borrowed 
from the Perceval of Chretien de Troyes, (Die Sage 
vom Zaubcrbecher, in Wolf, Ueber die Lais, 378,) and 
another, which we have not seen, in Bruns, Beitrage 
zur kritischen Bearbeitung alter Handschriften, ii. 139 ; 
while in English, it is represented by the highly amus 
ing " bowrd, " which we are about to print, and which 
we have called The Horn of King Arthur. The forms 
of the tale of the Mantle are not so numerous. The 
fabliau already mentioned was reduced to prose in 
the sixteenth century, and published at Lyons, (in 
1577,) as Le Manteau mal tailli, (Legrand's Fabliaux, 
3d ed.,i. 126,) and under this title, or that of Le Court 
Mantel, is very well known. An old fragment (Der 
Mantel) is given in Haupt and Hoffmann's Altdeutsche 
Blatter, ii. 217, and the story is also in Bruns Beitrage. 


Lastly, we find the legends of the horn and the mantle 
united, as in the German ballad Die Ausgleichung, 
(Des Knaben Wunderhorn, i. 389,) and in the English 
ballad of The Boy and The Mantle, where a magical 
knife is added to the other curiosities. All three of 
these, by the way, are claimed by the Welsh as a part 
of the insignia of Ancient Britain, and the special 
property of Tegau Eurvron, the wife of Caradog with 
the strong arm. (Jones, Bardic Museum, p. 49.) 

In other departments of romance, many other ob 
jects are endowed with the same or an analogous vir 
tue. In Indian and Persian story, the test of inno 
cence is a red lotus-flower; in Amadis, a garland, 
which fades on the brow of the unfaithful ; in Perce- 
forest, a rose. The Lay of the Rose in Perceforest, 
is the original (according to Schmidt) of the much- 
praised tale of Senece, Camille, ou la Maniere de filer 
le parfait Amour, (1695,) in which a magician pre 
sents a jealous husband with a portrait in wax, that 
will indicate by change of color the infidelity of his 
wife, and suggested the same device in the twenty- 
first novel of Bandello, (Part First,) on the translation 
of which in Painter's Palace of Pleasure, (vol. ii. No. 
28,) Massinger founded his play of The Picture. 
Again, in the tale of Zeyn Alasman and the King of 
the Genii, in the Arabian Nights, the means of proof 
is a mirror, that reflects only the image of a spotless 
maiden ; in that of the carpenter and the king's daugh 
ter, in the Gesta Romanorum, (c. 69,) a shirt, which 
remains clean and whole as long as both parties are 
true ; in Palmerin of England, a cup of tears, which 
becomes dark in the hands of an inconstant lover ; in 
the Fairy Queen, the famous girdle of Florimel ; in 


Horn andRimnild (Ritson, Metrical Romances, iii. 301,) 
as well as in one or two ballads in this collection, the 
stone of a ring ; in a German ballad, Die Krone der 
Kbnigin von A/ion, (Erlach, Volkslieder der Deutschen, 
i. 132,) a golden crown, that will fit the head of no in 
continent husband. Without pretending to exhaust 
the subject, we may add three instances of a different 
kind : the Valley in the romance of Lancelot, which 
being entered by a faithless lover would hold him im 
prisoned forever ; the Cave in Amadis of Gaul, from 
which the disloyal were driven by torrents of flame ; 
and the Well in Horn and Rimnild, (ibid.) which was 
to show the shadow of Horn, if he proved false. 

In conclusion, we will barely allude to the singular 
anecdote related by Herodotus, (ii. Ill,) of Phero, the 
son of Sesostris, in which the experience of King Maro 
and King Arthur is so curiously anticipated. In the 
early ages, as Dunlop has remarked, some experiment 
for ascertaining the fidelity of women, in defect of evi 
dence, seems really to have been resorted to. " By 
the Levitical law," (Numbers v. 11-31,) continues that 
accurate writer, " there was prescribed a mode of trial, 
which consisted in the suspected person drinking wa 
ter in the tabernacle. The mythological fable of the 
trial by the Stygian fountain, which disgraced the 
guilty by the waters rising so as to cover the laurel 
wreath of the unchaste female who dared the exami 
nation, probably had its origin in some of the early in 
stitutions of Greece or Egypt. Hence the notion was 
adopted in the Greek romances, the heroines of which 
were invariably subjected to a magical test of this na 
ture, which is one of the few particulars in which any 
similarity of incident can be traced between the Greek 


novels and the romances of chivalry.'* See DUNLOP, 
History of Fiction, London, 1814, i. 239, sq. ; LE- 
GRAND, Fabliaux, 3d ed., i. 149, sq., 161 ; SCHMIDT, 
Jahrbiicher der Literatur, xxix. 121 ; WOLF, Ueber 
die Lais, 174-177 ; and, above all, GRAESSE'S 
Sagenkreise des Mittelalters, 185, sq. 

The Boy and the Mantle was " printed verbatim" 
from the Percy MS., in the Reliques of Ancient Eng 
lish Poetry, iii. 38. 


IN the third day of May, 
To Carleile did come 
A kind curteous child, 
That cold much of wisdome. 

A kirtle and a mantle 
This child had uppon, 
With brouches and ringes 
Full richelye bedone. 

He had a sute of silke 
About his middle drawne ; 
Without he cold of curtesye, 
He thought itt much shame. 

" God speed thee, King Arthur, 
Sitting at thy meate : 
And the goodly Queene Gue"never 
I cannott her forgett. 

" I tell you, lords, in this hall, 
I hett you all to heede, 
Except you be the more surer, 
Is you for to dread." 

He plucked out of his poterner, 
And longer wold not dwell ; 

MS. Ver. 7, branches. V. 18, heate. V. 21, poterver. 


He pulled forth a pretty mantle. 
Betweene two nut-shells. 

" Have thou here, King Arthur, 
Have thou heere of mee ; 
Give itt to thy comely queene, 
Shapen as itt is alreadye. 

Itt shall never become that wiffe, 
That hath once done amisse : " 
Then every knight in the kings court 
Began to care for his. 

Forth came dame Guenever; 
To the mantle shee her hied ; 
The ladye shee was newfangle, 
But yett shee was affrayd. 

When shee had taken the mantle, 
She stoode as shee had beene madd : 
It was from the top to the toe, 
As sheeres had itt shread. 

One while was it gule, 
Another while was itt greene ; 
Another while was it wadded ; 
111 itt did her beseeme. 

MS. V. 32, his wiffe. V. 34, bided. V. 41, gaule. 


Another while was it blacke, 

And bore the worst hue : 
" By my troth," quoth King Arthur, 
" I think thou be not true." 

She threw down the mantle, 
That bright was of blee ; 
Fast, with a rudd redd, 
To her chamber can shee flee. 

She curst the weaver and the walker 
That clothe that had wrought, 
And bade a vengeance on his crowne 
That hither hath itt brought. 

" I had rather be in a wood, 
Under a greene tree, 
Then in King Arthurs court 
Shamed for to bee." 

Kay called forth his ladye, 

And bade her come neere ; 

Saies, " Madam, and thou be guiltye, 

I pray thee hold thee there." 

Forth came his ladye, 
Shortlye and anon ; 
Boldlye to the mantle 
Then is shee gone. 

When she had tane the mantle, 
And cast it her about, 


Then was shee bare 
: Before all the rout/ 

Then every knight, 

That was in the kings court, 

Talked, laughed, and showted "& 

Full oft att that sport. 

Shee threw downe the mantle, 

That bright was of blee ; 

Fast, with a red rudd, 

To her chamber can shee flee. * 

Forth came an old knight, 
Pattering ore a creede, 
And he preferred to this litle boy 
Twenty markes to his meede, 

And all the time of the Christmasse, 
Willinglye to ffeede ; & 

For why, this mantle might 
Doe his wiffe some need. 

When she had tane the mantle, 

Of cloth that was made, w 

Shee had no more left on her, 

But a tassell and a threed : 

Then every knight in the kings court 

Bade evill might shee speed. 

MS. Ver. 75, langed. 


Shee threw downe the mantle, ^ 

That bright was of blee ; 
And fast, with a redd rudd, 
To her chamber can shee flee. 

Craddocke called forth his ladye, 100 
And bade her come in ; 
Saith, " Winne this mantle, ladye, 
With a little dinne. 

Winne this mantle, ladye, 

And it shal be thine, 

If thou never did amisse ios 

Since thou wast mine." 

Forth came Craddockes ladye, 

Shortlye and anon ; 

But boldlye to the mantle 

Then is shee gone. no 

When she had tane the mantle, 

And cast it her about, 

Upp at her great toe 

It began to crinkle and crowt : 

Shee said, " Bowe downe, mantle, us 

And shame me not for nought. 

Once I did amisse, 

I tell you certainlye, 

When I kist Craddockes mouth 

Under a greene tree ; uo 


When I kist Craddockes mouth 
Before he manyed mee." 

When shee had her shreeven, 

And her sines shee had tolde, 

The mantle stoode about her 125 

Right as shee wold, 

Seemelye of coulour, 

Glittering like gold : 

Then every knight in Arthurs court 

Did her behold. iso 

Then spake dame Guenever 
To Arthur our king ; 
" She hath tane yonder mantle 
Not with right, but with wronge. 

See you not yonder woman, 135 

That maketh her self soe l cleane ' ? 
I have seene tane out of her bedd 
Of men fiveteene ; 

Priests, clarkes, and wedded men 
From her, bydeene : 140 

Yett shee taketh the mantle, 
And maketh her self cleane." 

MS. Ver. 134, wright. V. 136, cleare. 


Then spake the little boy, 
That kept the mantle in hold ; 
Sayes, " King, chasten thy wiffe, us 
Of her words shee is to bold : 

Shee is a bitch and a witch, 

And a whore bold : 

King, in thine owne hall 

Thou art a cuckold." 150 

The little boy stoode 
Looking out a dore ; 
1 And there as he was lookinge 
He was ware of a wyld bore.' 

He was ware of a wyld bore, iss 

Wold have werryed a man : 

He pulld forth a wood kniffe, 

Fast thither that he ran : 

He brought in the bores head, 

And quitted him like a man. iso 

He brought in the bores head, 

And was wonderous bold : 

He said there was never a cuckolds kniffe 

Carve itt that cold. 

Some rubbed their knives iss 

Uppon a whetstone : 


Some threw them under the table, 
And said they had none. 

King Arthur and the child 

Stood looking them upon ; 170 

All their knives edges 

Turned backe againe. 

Craddocke had a little knive 

Of iron and of steele ; 

He britled the bores head 175 

Wonderous weele, 

That every knight in the kings court 

Had a morssell. 

The little boy had a home, 

Of red gold that ronge : i*> 

He said there was " noe cuckolde 

Shall drinke of my home, 

But he shold it sheede, 

Either behind or beforne." 

Some shedd on their shoulder, iss 

And some on their knee ; 

He that cold not hitt his mouthe, 

Put it in his eye : 

And he that was a cuckold 

Every man might him see. i*- 

MS. V. I75,0rbirtled. 


Craddocke wan the home, 

And the bores head : 

His ladie wan the mantle 

Unto her meede. 

Everye such a lovely ladye 

God send her well to speede. 


MS. Ashmole, 61, fol. 59 to 62. 

THIS amusing piece was first published entire in 
Hartshorne's Ancient Metrical Tales, p. 209, but with 
great inaccuracies. It is there called The Cokwolds 
Daunce. A few extracts had previously been given 
from the MS., in the Notes to Orfeo and Heurodis, 
in Laing's. Early Popular Poetry of Scotland. Mr. 
Wright contributed a corrected edition to Karajan's 
FmUingsgabe fur Freunde alterer Literatur. That 
work not being at the moment obtainable, the Editor 
was saved from the necessity of reprinting or amend 
ing a faulty text, by the kindness of J. O. Halliwell, 
Esq., who sent him a collation of Hartshorne's copy 
with the Oxford manuscript. 

ALL that wyll of solas lere, 
Herkyns now, and $e schall here, 

And }e kane vnderstond ; 
Off a bowrd I wyll 3011 schew, 
That ys full gode and trew, 5 

That fell some tyme in Ynglond. 

VOL. I. 2 


Kynge Arthour was off grete honour, 
Off castellis and of many a toure, 

And full wyde iknow ; 
A gode ensample I wyll }ou sey, 
What chanse befell hym one a dey ; 

Herkyn to my saw ! 

Cokwoldes he louyd, as I $ou 

He honouryd them, both dey and nyght, 

In all maner of thyng ; 
And as I rede in story, 
He was kokwold sykerly ; 

Ffor sothe it is no lesyng. 

Herkyne, seres, what I sey ; 
Her may }e here solas and pley, 

Iff }e wyll take gode hede ; 
Kyng Arthour had a bugyll horn, 
That ever mour stod hym be forn, 

Were so that ever he ^ede. 

Ffor when he was at the bord sete, 
Anon the home schuld be fette, 

Ther off that he myght drynk ; 
Ffor myche crafte he couth thereby, 
And ofte tymes the treuth he sey ; 

Non other couth he thynke. 

Iff any cokwold drynke of it, 
Spyll he schuld, withouten lette ; 

26, sette. See 59, 211. 


Therfor thei wer not glade ; 
Gret dispyte thei had therby, 
Because it dyde them vilony, 35 

And made them oft tymes sade. 

When the kyng wold hafe solas, 
The bugyll was fett into the plas, 

To make solas and game ; 
And then changyd the cokwoldes chere ; 40 
The kyng them callyd ferre and nere, 

Lordynges, by ther name. 

Than men myght se game inow^e, 
When every cokwold on other leu^e, 

And }it thei schamyd sore : 

Where euer the cokwoldes wer sought, 
Befor the kyng thei were brought, 

Both lesse and more. 

Kyng Arthour than, verament, 

Ordeynd, throw hys awne assent, BO 

Ssoth as I $ow sey, 

The tabull dormounte withouten lette ; 
Ther at the cokwoldes wer sette, 

To have solas and pley. 

Ffor at the bord schuld be non other x 

Bot euery cokwold and hys brother ; 
To tell treuth I must nedes ; 

38, sett. 56, brothers. 


And when the cokwoldes wer sette, 
Garlandes of wylos sculd be fette, 
And sett vpon ther hedes. 

Off the best mete, withoute lesyng, 
That stode on bord befor the kyng, 

Both ferr and nere, 
To the cokwoldes he sente anon, 
And bad them be glad euerychon, 

Ffor his sake make gode chere. 

And seyd, " Lordyngs, for ^our lyues, 
Be neuer the wrother with $our wyues, 

Ffor no manner of nede : 
Off women com duke and kyng ; 
I jow tell without lesyng, 

Of them com owre manned. 

So it befell sertenly, 

The duke off Glosseter com in hy$e, 

To the courte with full gret my^ht ; 
He was reseyued at the kyngs palys, 
With mych honour and grete solas, 

With lords that were well dyg^ht. 

With the kyng ther dyde he dwell, 
Bot how long I can not tell, 

Therof knaw I non name ; 
Off kyng Arthour a wonder case, 
Frendes, herkyns how it was, 

Ffor now begynes game. 


Vppon a dey, withouten lette, 86 

The duke with the kyng was sette, 

At mete with mykill pride ; 
He lukyd abowte wonder faste, 
Hys syght on euery syde he caste 

To them that sate besyde. 90 

The kyng aspyed the erle anon, 
And fast he low^he the erle vpon, 

And bad he schuld be glad ; 
And yet, for all hys grete honour, 
Cokwold was Kyng Arthour, 95 

Ne galle non he had. 

So at the last, the duke he brayd, 
And to the kyng thes wordes sayd ; 

He myght no lenger forbere ; 
" Syr, what hath thes men don, 100 

That syche garlondes thei were vpon ? 

That skyll wold I lere." 

The kyng seyd the erle to, 
" Syr, non hurte they haue do, 

Ffor this was thrush a chans. 105 

Sertes thei be fre men all, 
Ffor non of them hath no gall ; 

Therfor this is ther penans. 

" Ther wyves hath ben merchandabull, 
And of ther ware compenabull ; 110 

98, MS. spake. 


Methinke it is non herme ; 
A man of lufe that wold them craue, 
Hastely he schuld it haue, 

Ffor thei couth not hym wern. 

" All theyr wyves, sykerlyke, i 

Hath vsyd the backefysyke, 

Whyll thes men were oute ; 
And ofte they haue draw that draught, 
To vse well the lechers craft, 

With rubyng of ther toute. 120 

" Syr," he seyd, " now haue I redd ; 
Ete we now, and make vs glad, 

And euery man fle care ; " 
The duke seyd to hym anon, 
" Than be thei cokwoldes, everychon ; " 125 

The kyng seyd, " hold the there." 

The kyng than, after the erlys word, 
Send to the cokwolds bord, 

To make them mery among, 
All manner of mynstralsy, iso 

To glad the cokwolds by and by 

With herpe, fydell, and song : 

And bad them take no greffe, 
Bot all with loue and with leffe, 

Euery man . . with other ; 135 

115, MS. baskefysyke. 135, word wanting. 


Ffor after mete, without distans, 
The cockwolds schuld together danse, 
Euery man with hys brother. 

Than began a nobull game : 

The cockwolds together came no 

Befor the erle and the kyng ; 
In skerlet kyrtells over one, 
The cokwoldes stodyn euerychon, 

Redy vnto the dansyng. 

Than seyd the kyng in hye, us 

" Go fyll my bugyll hastely, 

And bryng it to my hond. 
I wyll asey with a gyne 
All the cokwolds that her is in ; 

To know them wyll I fond." wo 

Than seyd the erle, " for charyte, 
In what skyll, tell me, 

A cokwold may I know ? " 
To the erle the kyng ansuerd, 
" Syr, be myn hore berd, 155 

Thou schall se within a throw." 

The bugyll was brought the kyng to hond. 
Then seyd the kyng, " I vnderstond, 

Thys home that }e here se, 
Ther is no cockwold, fer lie nere, ieo 

Here of to drynke hath no power, 

As wyde as Crystiante, 


" Bot he schall spyll on euery syde ; 
Ffor any cas that may betyde, 

Schall non therof avanse." is* 

And }it, for all hys grete honour, 
Hymselfe, noble kyng Arthour, 

Hath forteynd syche a chans. 

" Syr erle," he seyd, " take and begyn." 
He seyd, " nay, be seynt Austyn, iro 

That wer to me vylony ; 
Not for all a reme to wyn, 
Befor you I schuld begyn, 

Ffor honour off my curtassy." 

Kyng Arthour ther he toke the horn, 175 
And dyde as he was wont beforn, 

Bot ther was }it gon a gyle : 
He wend to haue dronke of the best, 
Bot sone he spyllyd on hys brest, 

Within a lytell whyle. MO 

The cokwoldes lokyd iche on other, 

And thought the kyng was then* own brother, 

And glad thei wer of that : 
" He hath vs scornyd many a tyme, 
And now he is a cokwold fyne, iss 

To were a cokwoldes hate." 

The quene was therof schamyd sore ; 
Sche changyd hyr colour lesse and more, 

178, Bot he. 


And wold haue ben a wey. 
Therwith the kyng gan hyr behold, ia> 

And seyd he schuld neuer be so bold, 

The soth agene to sey. 

" Cokwoldes no mour I wyll repreue, 
Ffor I ame ane, and aske no leue, 

Ffor all my rentes and londys. isw 

Lordyngs, all now may ^e know 
That I may dance in the cokwold row, 

And take 3011 by the handes." 

Than seyd thei all at a word, 

That cokwoldes schuld begynne the bord, 200 

And sytt hyest in the halle. 
" Go we, lordyngs, all [and] same, 
And dance to make vs gle and game, 

Ffor cokwolds haue no galle." 

And after that sone anon, 209 

The kyng causyd the cokwolds ychon 

To wesch withouten les ; 
Ffor ought that euer may betyde, 
He sett them by hys awne syde, 

Vp at the hy^e dese. 210 

The kyng hymselff a gurlond fette ; 
Uppon hys hede he it sette, 

Ffor it myght be non other, 
And seyd, " Lordyngs, sykerly, 


We be all off a freyr j ; 215 

I ame ^our awne brother. 

" Be Jhesu Cryst that is aboffe, 
That man aught me gode loffe 

That ley by my quene : 
I wer worthy hym to honour, 220 

Both in castell and in towre, 

With rede, skerlet and grene. 

" Ffor him he helpyd, when I was forth, 
To cher my wyfe and make her myrth ; 

Ffor women louys wele pley ; 225 

And therfor, serys, haue ^e no dowte 
Bot many schall dance in the cokwoldes rowte, 

Both by nyght and dey. 

" And therefor, lordyngs, take no care ; 
Make we mery ; for nothing spare ; 230 

All brether in one rowte." 
Than the cokwoldes wer full blythe, 
And thankyd God a hundred syth, 

Ffor soth withouten dowte. 

Euery cokwold seyd to other, 235 

" Kyng Arthour is our awne brother, 

Therfor we may be blyth : " 
The erle off Glowsytur verament, 
Toke hys leue, and home he wente, 

And thankyd the kyng fele sythe. 240 


Kyng Arthour lived at Karlyon, 
With hys cokwolds euerychon, 

And made both gam and gle : 



A knyght ther was withouten les, 

That seruyd at the kyngs des, 2*5 

Syr Corneus hyght he ; 
He made this gest in hys gam, 
And named it after hys awne name, 

In herpyng or other gle. 

And after, nobull kyng Arthour a 

Lyued and dyed with honour, 

As many hath don senne, 
Both cokwoldes and other mo : 
God gyff vs grace that we may go 

To heuyn ! Amen, Amen. 

241, left at Skarlyon. 243, Three lines omitted in MS. 


From Percy's Reliques, iii. 403. 

This is one of the few ballads contained in the 
Percy MS., which we have the pleasure of possess 
ing as it is there written. Having first submitted 
an improved copy, " with large conjectural supple 
ments and corrections," Percy added this old frag 
ment at the end of the volume : " literally and exact 
ly printed, with all its defects, inaccuracies, and er 
rata," in order, as he triumphantly remarks, " that 
such austere antiquaries as complain that the ancient 
copies have not been always rigidly adhered to, may 
see how unfit for publication many of the pieces 
would have been, if all the blunders, corruptions, and 
nonsense of illiterate reciters and transcribers had 
been superstitiously retained, without some attempt to 
correct and amend them." 

" This ballad," the Editor of the Reliques goes on 
to say, " has most unfortunately suffered by having 
half of every leaf in this part of the MS. torn away ; 
and, as about nine stanzas generally occur in the 
tialf-page now remaining, it is concluded that the 


other half contained nearly the same number of stan 
zas." The story may be seen, unmutilated and in an 
older form, in Madden's Syr Gawayne, p. 298, The 
Weddynge of Syr Gawen and Dame Ragnell. 

The transformation on which the story turns is 
found also in Chaucer's Wife of Bath's Tale, in Gow- 
er's tale of Florent and the King of Sicily's Daugh 
ter ; (Confessio Amantis, Book I.) in the ballad of 
King Henry (page 147 of this volume) ; and in an 
Icelandic saga of the Danish king Helgius, quoted by 
Scott in his illustrations to King Henry, Minstrelsy, iii. 

Voltaire has employed the same idea in his Ce qui 
plait aux Dames, but whence he borrowed it we are 
unable to say. 

Worked over by some ballad-monger of the six 
teenth century, and of course reduced to dish-water, 
this tale has found its way into The Crown Garland of 
Golden Roses, Part I. p. 68 (Percy Society, vol. vi.), 
Of a Knight and a Faire Virgin. 

KINGE Arthur Hues in merry Carleile, 
And seemely is to see ; 

And there he hath with him Queene Genever, 
That bride so bright of blee. 

And there he hath with him Queene Genever, 
That bride soe bright in bower ; 6 

And all his barons about him stoode, 
That were both stiffe and stowre. 


The King kept a royall Christmasse, 

Of mirth & great honor ; 10 

. . when . . 

\About nine stanzas wanting.'] 

" And bring me word what thing it is 

That women most desire ; 

This shalbe thy ransome, Arthur," he sayes, 
" For He haue no other hier." 15 

King Arthur then held vp his hand, 
According thene as was the law ; 
He tooke his leaue of the baron there, 
And homword can he draw. 

And when he came to merry Carlile, 20 

To his chamber he is gone ; 
And ther came to him his cozen, Sir Gawaine, 
As he did make his mone. 

And there came to him his cozen, Sir Gawaine, 
That was a curteous knight ; '& 

" Why sigh you soe sore, vnckle Arthur," he said, 

" Or who hath done thee vnright ? " 

" peace ! o peace ! thou gentle Gawaine, 
That faire may thee beffall ; 
For if thou knew my sighing soe deepe, s 
Thou wold not meruaile att all. 

MS. 13, Y e a woman. 24, Cawaine. 


" Ffor when I came to Tearne-wadling, 
A bold barren there I fand ; 
With a great club vpon his backe, 
Standing stiffe & strong. 33 

" And he asked me wether I wold fight 
Or from him I shold be gone ; 
Or else I must him a ransome pay, 
And soe depart him from. 

" To fight with him I saw noe cause, 

Me thought it was not meet ; 
For he was stiffe and strong with all ; 
His strokes were nothing sweete. 

" Therefor this is my ransome, Gawaine, 
I ought to him to pay ; 45 

I must come againe, as I am sworne, 
Vpon the Newyeers day. 

" And I must bring him word what thing it is 
\_About nine stanzas wanting r . J 

Then King Arthur drest him for to ryde, 
In one soe riche array, so 

Towards the foresaid Tearne-wadling, 
That he might keepe his day. 

And as he rode over a more, 
Hee see a lady, where shee sate, 

MS. 38, else. 


Betwixt an oke and a greene hollen ; 
She was clad in red scarlett. 

Then there as shold have stood her mouth, 
Then there was sett her eye ; 
The other was in her forhead fast, 
The way that she might see. 

Her nose was crooked, & turnd outward, 
Her mouth stood foule a-wry ; 
A worse formed lady then shee was, 
Neuer man saw with his eye. 

To halch vpon him, King Arthur, 
This lady was full faine ; 
But King Arthur had forgott his lesson, 
What he shold say againe. 

" What knight art thou," the lady sayd, 
" That wilt not speake to me ? 
Of me [be] thou nothing dismayd, 
Tho I be vgly to see. 

" For I haue halched you curteouslye, 
And you will not me againe ; 
Yett I may happen, Sir knight," shee said, 
" To ease thee of thy paine." 

" Giue thou ease me, lady," he said, 
" Or helpe me any thing, 


Thou shalt haue gentle Gawaine, my cozen, 
And marry him with a ring." so 

Why if I helpe thee not, thou noble King Ar 
Of thy owne hearts desiringe, 

Of gentle Gawaine 

\_About nine stanzas wanting.^ 

And when he came to the Tearne-wadling, 
The baion there cold he finde ; 35 

With a great weapon on his backe, 
Standinge stiffe and stronge. 

And then he tooke King Arthurs letters in his 


And away he cold them fling ; 
And then he puld out a good browne sword, a> 
And cryd himselfe a king. 

And he sayd, " I haue thee, & thy land, Ar 

To doe as it pleaseth me ; 
For this is not thy ransome sure, 
Therfore yeeld thee to me." M 

And then bespoke him noble Arthur, 
And bade him hold his hand ; 

MS. 85, srinde. 97, hands. 


" And give me leave to speake my mind, 
In defence of all my land." 

He said, " as I came over a more, 100 

I see a lady, where shee sate, 
Betweene an oke & a green hollen ; 
Shee was clad in red scarlette. 

" And she says a woman will haue her will, 
And this is all her cheef desire ; 105 

Doe me right, as thou art a baron of sckill, 
This is thy ransome, & all thy hyer." 

He sayes, " an early vengeance light on her ! 
She walkes on yonder more ; 
It was my sister, that told thee this, no 

She is a misshapen hore. 

" But heer He make mine avow to God, 
To do her an euill turne ; 
For an euer I may thate fowle theefe get, 
In a fyer I will her burne." us 

[About nine stanzas wanting."] 


SIR Lancelott, & Sir Steven, bold, 
They rode with them that day ; 

MS. 100, The. 


And the formost of the company, 
There rode the steward Kay. 

Soe did Sir Banier, & Sir Bore, i* 

Sir Garrett with them, soe gay ; 
Soe did Sir Tristeram, that gentle knight, 
To the forrest, fresh & gay. 

And when he came to the greene forrest, 
Vnderneath a greene holly tree, ias 

Their sate that lady in red scarlet. 
That vnseemly was to see. 

Sir Kay beheld this ladys face, 

And looked vppon her suire, 
" Whosoeuer kisses this lady," he sayes, iso 

" Of his kisse he stands in feare ! " 

Sir Kay beheld the lady againe, 

And looked vpon her snout ; 
" Whosoeuer kisses this lady," he saies, 
" Of his kisse he stands in doubt ! " 135 

" Peace, cozen Kay," then said Sir Gawaine, 
" Amend thee of thy life ; 

For there is a knight amongst us all, 

That must marry her to his wife." 

" What ! wedd her to wiffe," then said Sir Kay, 
" In the diuells name anon, m 


Gett me a wiffe whereere I may, 
For I had rather be slaine ! " 

Then some tooke vp their hawkes in hast, 
And some tooke vp their hounds ; us 

And some sware they wold not marry her, 
For citty nor for towne. 

And then bespake him noble King Arthur, 
And sware there, " by this day, 
For a litle foule sight & misliking, iso 

{About nine stanzas wanting.'} 

Then shee said, " choose thee, gentle Gawaine, 
Truth as I doe say ; 

Wether thou wilt haue me in this liknesse, 
In the night, or else in the day." 

And then bespake him gentle Gawaine, ^ 

With one soe mild of moode ; 

Sayes, " well I know what I wold say, 

God grant it may be good ! 

" To haue thee fowle in the night, 
When I with thee shold play ^ 

Yet I had rather, if I might, 
Haue thee fowle in the day." 

ft What, when lords goe with ther feires," shee 

MS. 144, soome. 163, seires. 


" Both to the ale and wine ; 
Alas ! then I must hyde my selfe, ^ 

I must not goe withinne." 

And then bespake him gentle Gawaine, 

Said, " Lady, thats but a skill ; 

And because thou art my ovvne lady, 

Thou shalt haue all thy will." no 

Then she said, " blessed be thou, gentle Ga 

This day that I thee see ; 
For as thou see me att this time, 
From hencforth I wil be. 

" My father was an old knight, 175 

And yett it chanced soe, 
That he married a younge lady, 
That brought me to this woe. 

" Shee witched me, being a faire young kdy, 
To the greene forrest to dwell ; iso 

And there I must walke in womans liknesse, 
Most like a feeind of hell. 

" She witched my brother to a carlist b . . . . 
[About nine stanzas wanting.'] 

That looked soe foule, and that was wont 

On the wild more to goe. 135 


" Come kisse her, brother Kay," then said Sir 

" And amend the of thy liffe ; 

I sweare this is the same lady 

That I marryed to my wiffe." 

Sir Kay kissed that lady bright, i 

Standing vpon his ffeete ; 

He swore, as he was trew knight, 

The spice was neuer soe sweete. 

" Well, cozen Gawaine," sayes Sir Kay, 

" Thy chance is fallen arright ; 195 

For thou hast gotten one of the fairest maids, 

I euer saw with my sight." 

" It is my fortune," said Sir Gawaine ; 
" For my vnckle Arthurs sake, 

I am glad as grasse wold be of raine, 200 

Great joy that I may take." 

Sir Gawaine tooke the lady by the one arme 1 , 

Sir Kay tooke her by the tother ; 

They led her straight to King Arthur, 

As they were brother and brother. 205 

King Arthur welcomed them there all, 
And soe did lady Geneuer, his queene ; 
With all the knights of the Round Table, 
Most seemly to be scene. 


King Arthur beheld that lady faire, 210 

That was soe faire & bright ; 

He thanked Christ in Trinity 

For Sir Gawaine, that gentle knight. 

Soe did the knights, both more and lesse, 220 

Rejoyced all that day, 

For the good chance that hapened was 

To Sir Gawaine and his lady gay. 



Reliques of English Poetry, iii, 67. 

" THE subject of this ballad is evidently taken from 
the old romance Morte Arthur, but with some vari 
ations, especially in the concluding stanzas ; in which 
the author seems rather to follow the traditions of the 
old Welsh Bards, who ' believed that King Arthur 
was not dead, but conveied awaie by the Fairies into 
some pleasant place, where he should remaine for a 
time, and then returne againe and reign in as great 
authority as ever.' (Holinshed, B. 5, c. 14.) Or, as it is 
expressed in an old chronicle printed at Antwerp, 
1493, by Ger. de Leew: ' The Bretons supposen, that 
he [King Arthur] shall come yet and conquere all 
Bretaigne, for certes this is the prophicye of Merlyn , 
He sayd, that his deth shall be doubteous ; and sayd 
soth, for men thereof yet have doubte, and shullen for 
ever more, for men wyt not whether that he lyveth 
or is dede.' See more ancient testimonies in Selden's 
Notes on Polyolbion, Song 3. 

" This fragment, being very incorrect and imperfect 


in the original MS., hath received some conjectural 
emendations, and even a supplement of three or four 
stanzas composed from the romance of Morte Ar 
thur? PERCY. 

ON Trinitye Mondaye in the morne, 
This sore battayle was doom'd to bee, 

Where manye a knighte cry'd, Well-awaye ! 
Alacke, it was the more pittie. 

Ere the first crowinge of the cocke, s 

When as the kinge in his bed laye, 

He thoughte Sir G-awaine to him came, 
And there to him these wordes did saye. 

" Nowe, as you are mine unkle deare, 

And as you prize your life, this daye 10 

meet not with your foe in fighte ; 
Putt off the battayle, if yee maye. 

" For Sir Launcelot is nowe in Fraunce, 
And with him many an hardye knighte : 

Who will within this moneth be backe, is 

And will assiste yee in the fighte." 

7. Sir Gawaine had been killed at Arthur's landing on his 
return from abroad. See the next ballad, ver. 73. P. 


The kinge then call'd his nobles all, 
Before the breakinge of the daye ; 

And tolde them howe Sir Gawaine came, 
And there to him these wordes did saye. 20 

His nobles all this counsayle gave, 

That earlye in the morning, hee 
Shold send awaye an herauld at armes, 

To aske a parley faire and free. 

Then twelve good knightes King Arthur chose, 
The best of all that with him were, 26 

To parley with the foe in field, 

And make with him agreement faire. 

The king he charged all his hoste, 

In readinesse there for to bee ; 

But noe man sholde noe weapon sturre, 

Unlesse a sword drawne they shold see. 

And Mordred, on the other parte, 

Twelve of his knights did likewise bringe, 

The beste of all his companye, * 

To holde the parley with the kinge. 

Sir Mordred alsoe charged his hoste, 

In readinesse there for to bee ; 
But noe man sholde noe weapon sturre, 

But if a sworde drawne they shold see. 


For he durste not his unkle truste, 
Nor he his nephewe, sothe to tell ; 

Alacke ! it was a woefulle case, 
As ere in Christentye befelle. 

But when they were together mette, 

And both to faire accordance broughte, 

And a month's league betweene them sette, 
Before the battayle sholde be foughte, 

An addere crept forth of a bushe, 

Stunge one o' th' king's knightes on the knee ; 
Alacke ! it was a woefulle chance, si 

As ever was in Christentie. 

When the knighte found him wounded sore, 
And sawe the wild-worme hanginge there, 

His sworde he from his scabberde drewe ; 55 
A piteous case, as ye shall heare. 

For when the two hostes sawe the sworde, 

They joyned battayle instantlye ; 
Till of so manye noble knightes, 

On one side there were left but three. so 

For all were slaine that durst abide, 
And but some fewe that fled awaye : 

41, 42, the folio MS. reads father sonne. 


Ah mee ! it was a bloodye fielde, 

As ere was foughte on summer's daye. 

Upon King Arthur's own partye, 

Onlye himselfe escaped there, 
And Lukyn Duke of Gloster free, 

And the king's butler Bedevere. 

And when the king beheld his knightes 
All dead and scattered on the molde, 

The teares fast trickled downe his face ; 
That manlye face in fight so bolde. 

" No we reste yee all, brave knights," he said, 
" Soe true and faithful to your trust : 

And must yee then, yee valiant hearts, 
Be lefte to moulder into dust ! 

" Most loyal have yee been to mee, 
Most true and faithful unto deathe : 

And, oh ! to rayse yee up againe, 

How freelye could I yield my breathe ! 

" But see, the traitor's yet alive ! 

Lo where hee stalkes among the deade ! 
Nowe bitterlye he shall abye, 

And vengeance fall upon his head." 

" O staye, my liege," then sayd the duke ; 
" O staye for love and charitie ; 


Remember what the vision spake, 
Nor meete your foe, if it may bee." 

" staye mee not, thou worthy e wight, 

This debt my loyal knights I owe : w 

Betide me life, betide me death, 
I will avenge them of their foe." 

Then straite he grasp'd his trustye speare, 
And on his horse then mounted hee : 

As his butler holpe him to his horse, B 

His bowels gushed to his knee. 

" Alas ! " then sayd the noble king, 
" That I should live this sight to see ! 

To see this good knight here be slaine, 

All for his love in helping mee ! " 100 

He put his speare into his reste, 
And to Sir Mordred loud gan crye ; 

" Nowe sette thyself upon thy guarde, 
For, traitor, nowe thy death is nye." 

Sir Mordred lifted up his sworde, IDS 

And fierce to meet the king ran hee : 

The king his speare he through him thrust, 
A fathom thorow his bodie. 

When Mordered felt the stroke of death, 
And found that he was wounded soe, no 


He thruste himselfe upon the speare, 
And strucke the king a deadlye blowe. 

Then grimmlye dyed Sir Mordered, 

Presentlye upon that tree : 
And bloody streames ranne from the kinge, us 

Ere to the duke returned hee. 

Sir Lukyn then he thus bespake : 

" Sir knighte, thou hast been faithfulle tryde ; 
Nowe take my sword Excalibar, 

That hangs so freelye by my syde, 120 

" take my sword Excalibar, 
And there into the river throwe : 

For here, henceforth, benethe this tree, 
All use of weapons I foregoe. 

"And fare thee well, thou trustye sword, 125 
A better neer had valiant knighte ; 

With thee full ofte, and many a daye, 
Have I withstood my foe in fighte. 

" With this good fauchion in my hande, 

Oft have I reapd the bloody feelde : iso 

But no we the fatalle houre is come, 
That never more I may thee weelde." 

119. More commonly called Calihurn. In the folio MS. 
Escdlherd. P. 


The duke to the river side he went, 

And there his owne sword in threwe he ; 

But he kept back Excalibar, 135 

He kept it back in privitie. 

For all of coleyne was the blade, 
And all the hilte of precious stone : 

"And ever alacke ! " then sayd the knighte, 139 
" Must such a sword awaye be throwne ? " 

Then backe he came unto the kinge, 

Who sayd, " Sir Lukyn, what did yee see ? " 

" Nothing, my liege, save that the winde 
Blewe oer the waters faire and free." 

" O goe againe," then said the kinge, us 

" O good Sir Lukyn, goe againe : 

Into the rivere throwe my sword, 

Nor keepe me lingering here in paine. 

The duke then to the river went, 

And the kings scabbard in threwe hee ; iso 
But hee kept backe Excalibar, 

And hid it undernethe a tree. 

Then backe he came to tell the kinge, 

Who sayde, " Sir Lukyn, sawe ye oughte ? " 

u Nothinge, my liege, save that the winde iss 
Nowe with the angrye waters fought." 


" O Lukyn, Lukyn," said the kinge, 
" Twice haste thou dealt deceytfullye : 

Alacke, whom may wee ever truste, 

When suche a knighte soe false can bee ! wo 

" Saye, wouldst thou have thy master dead, 
All for a sword that wins thine eye ? 

Now goe againe, and throwe it in, 
Or here the one of us shall dye." 

The duke, all shent with this rebuke, 1*5 

No aunswere made unto the kinge ; 

But to the rivere tooke the sworde, 
And threwe it far as he coulde flinge. 

A hande and an arme did meete the sworde, 
And flourishd three times in the air ; 170 

Then sunke benethe the renninge streme, 
And of the duke was scene noe mair. 

All sore astonied stood the duke, 
He stood as still, as still mote bee ; 

Then hastend backe to tell the kinge, 175 

But he was gone from under the tree. 

But to what place, he cold not tell, 
For never after hee did him see ; 

But hee sawe a barge goe from the land, 
And hee heard ladyes howle and crye. w 


And whether the kinge were there, or not, 
Hee never knewe, nor ever colde ; 

For from that sad and direfulle daye, 
Hee never more was seene on molde. 

VOL. I. 


JKeliques of English Poetry, iii, 76. 

" WE have here a short summary of King Arthur's 
History as given by Jeff, of Monmouth and the old 
Chronicles, with the addition of a few circumstances 
from the romance Morte Arthur. The ancient chroni 
cle of Ger. de Leew (quoted above in p. 40,) seems to 
have been chiefly followed: upon the authority of 
which we have restored some of the names which were 
corrupted in the MS,, and have transposed one stanza, 
which appeared to be misplaced : viz., that beginning 
at v. 49, which in the MS. followed v. 36. 
" Printed from the Editor's ancient folio MS." 


OP Brutus' blood, in Brittaine borne, 

King Arthur I am to name ; 
Through Christendome and Heathynesse 

Well knowne is my worthy fame. 

In Jesus Christ I doe beleeve ; 

I am a Christyan bore ; 
The Father, Sone, and Holy Gost, 

One God, I doe adore. 

1. MS., Bruitehis. 


In the four hundred ninetieth yeere, 

Oer Brittaine I did rayne, 10 

After my Savior Christ his byrth, 
What time I did maintaine 

The fellowshipp of the Table Round, 

Soe famous in those dayes ; 
Whereatt a hundred noble knights is 

And thirty sat alwayes : 

Who for their deeds and and martiall feates, 

As bookes done yett record, 
Amongst all other nations 

Wer feared through the world. 20 

And in the castle off Tyntagill 

King Uther mee begate, 
Of Agyana, a bewtyous ladye, 

And come of ' hie ' estate. 

And when I was fifteen yeere old, 25 

Then was I crowned kinge : 
All Brittaine, that was att an uprore, 

I did to quiett bringe ; 

And drove the Saxons from the realme, 
Who had opprest this land ; 30 

9, He began his reign A. D. 515, according to the Chron 
icles. 23, She is named Jgerna in the old Chronicles. 24 
his, MS. 


All Scotland then, throughe manly feates, 
I conquered with my hand. 

Ireland, Denmarke, Norwaye, 

These countryes wan I all ; 
Iseland, Gotheland, and Swetheland ; ^ 

And made their kings my thrall. 

I conquered all Gallya, 

That now is called France ; 
And slew the hardye Froll in feild, 

My honor to advance. 

And the ugly gyant Dynabus, 

Soe terrible to vewe, 
That in Saint Barnards mount did lye, 

By force of armes I slew. 

And Lucyus, the emperour of Rome, 

I brought to deadly wracke ; 
And a thousand more of noble knightes 

For feare did turne their backe. 

Five kinges of Pavye I did kill 

Amidst that bloody strife ; so 

Besides the Grecian emperour, 

Who alsoe lost his liffe. 

39, Froland field, MS. Froll, according to the Chroni 
cles, was a Eoman kui'ght, governor of Gaul. 41, Danibus, 
MS. 49, see p. 134, v. 55. 


Whose carcasse I did send to Rome, 

Cladd poorlye on a beere ; 
And afterward I past Mount-Joye 55 

The next approaching yeere. 

Then I came to Rome, where I was mett 

Right as a conquerour, 
And by all the cardinalls solempnelye 

I was crowned an emperour. eo 

One winter there I made abode, 
Then word to mee was brought, 

Howe Mordred had oppressed the crowne, 
What treason he had wrought 

Att home in Brittaine with my queene : 65 

Therfore I came with speede 
To Brittaine backe, with all my power, 

To quitt that traiterous deede ; 

And soone at Sandwiche I arrivde, 

Where Mordred me withstoode : ?o 

But yett at last I landed there, 
With effusion of much blood. 

For there my nephew Sir Gawaine dyed, 

Being wounded in that sore 
The whiche Sir Lancelot in fight n 

Had given him before. 


Thence chased I Mordered away, 

Who fledd to London right, 
From London to Winchester, and 

To Cornewalle tooke his flyght. so 

And still I him pursued with speed, 

Till at last wee mett ; 
Wherby an appointed day of fight 

Was there agreed and sett : 

Where we did fight, of mortal life 33 

Eche other to deprive, 
Till of a hundred thousand men 

Scarce one was left alive. 

There all the noble chivalrye 

Of Brittaine tooke their end: so 

O see how fickle is their state 

That doe on fates depend ! 

There all the traiterous men were slaine, 

Not one escapte away ; 
And there dyed all my vallyant knightes, 95 

Alas ! that woefull day ! 

Two and twenty yeere I ware the crowne 

In honor and great fame, 
And thus by death was suddenlye 

Deprived of the same. i 

92, feates, MS. 


THIS ballad first occurs in the Garland of Good 
Will, and is attributed to Thomas Deloney, whose 
career as a song- writer extends from about 1586 to 
1600. It is merely a rhymed version of a passage in 
the Morte LT Arthur, (Book vi. ch. 7, 8, 9, of South- 
ey's ed.) The first two lines are quoted in the Second 
Part of Henry IV., A. ii. sc. 4. 

The present text is nearly that of the Garland of 
Good Will (Percy Society, vol. xxx. p. 38), and differs 
considerably from that of Percy, (Reliques, i. 215.) 
The same, with very trifling variations, is found in 
Old Ballads, (1723,) ii. 21 ; Ritson's Ancient Songs, 
ii. 188; Evans's Old Ballads, ii. 5. 

WHEN Arthur first in court began, 

And was approved king, 
By force of arms great victories won, 

And conquests home did bring ; 

Then into Britain straight he came, 5 

Where fifty good and able 
Knights then repaired unto him, 

Which were of the Round Table ; 


And many justs and tournaments 

Before them there were drest, 10 

Where valiant knights did then excel, 
And far surmount the rest. 

But one Sir Lancelot du Lake, 

Who was approved well, 
He in his fights and deeds of arms, w 

All others did excel. 

When he had rested him a while, 

To play, to game, and sport, 
He thought he would go try himself, 

In some adventurous sort. 20 

He armed rode in forest wide, 

And met a damsel fair, 
Who told him of adventures great, 

Whereto he gave good ear. 

" Why should I not ? " quoth Lancelot tho, 25 

" For that cause I came hither." 
" Thou seem'st," quoth she, " a goodly knight, 
And I will bring thee thither 

" Whereas a mighty knight doth dwell, 

That now is of great fame ; so 

Therefore tell me what knight thou art, 
then what is your name." 

29, the. 


" My name is Lancelot du Lake." 
Quoth she, " it likes me than ; 
Here dwells a knight that never was 35 

O'ermatch'd with any man ; 

" Who has in prison threescore knights 

And four, that he has bound ; 
Knights of King Arthur's court they be, 
And of his Table Round." *> 

She brought him to a river side, 

And also to a tree, 
Whereon a copper bason hung, 

His fellows shields to see. 

He struck so hard, the bason broke : 45 

When Tarquin heard the sound, 

He drove a horse before him straight, 
Whereon a knight lay bound. 

" Sir knight," then said Sir Lancelot, 

" Bring me that horse-load hither, so 

And lay him down, and let him rest ; 
We'll try our force together. 

" And as I understand, thou hast, 

So far as thou art able, 
Done great despite and shame unto 55 

The knights of the Round Table." 

36, E'er match'd. 44, fellow. 


"If thou be of the Table Round" 

(Quoth Tarquin, speedilye), 
" Both thee and all thy fellowship 

I utterly defie." oo 

" That's overmuch," quoth Lancelot tho ; 

" Defend thee by and by." 
They put their spurs unto their steeds, 
And each at other fly. 

They coucht their spears, and horses ran a 
As though there had been thunder ; 

And each struck them amidst the shield, 
Wherewith they broke in sunder. 

Their horses backs brake under them, 
The knights were both astound ; TO 

To void their horses they made great haste, 
To light upon the ground. 

They took them to their shields full fast, 
Their swords they drew out than ; 

With mighty strokes most eagerly re 

Each one at other ran. 

They wounded were, and bled full sore, 
For breath they both did stand, 

And leaning on their swords awhile, 

Quoth Tarquin, " Hold thy hand, *> 


And tell to me what I shall ask ; " 

" Say on," quoth Lancelot tho ; 
" Thou art," quoth Tarquin, " the best knight 
That ever I did know ; 

" And like a knight that I did hate ; & 

So that thou be not he, 
I will deliver all the rest, 
And eke accord with thee." 

" That is well said," quoth Lancelot then ; 

" But sith it must be so, so 

What is the knight thou hatest thus ? 
I pray thee to me show." 

" His name is Lancelot du Lake, 

He slew my brother dear ; 
Him I suspect of all the rest ; 95 

I would I had him here." 

" Thy wish thou hast, but yet unknown ; 

I am Lancelot du Lake ! 
Now knight of Arthur's Table Round, 

King Ban's son of Benwake ; 100 


"And I desire thee do thy worst." 
" Ho ! ho ! " quoth Tarquin tho, 
" One of us two shall end our lives, 
Before that we do go. 

91, so. 100, Kind Haud's son of Seuwake. 


" If thou be Lancelot du Lake, ice 

Then welcome shalt thou be ; 
Wherefore see thou thyself defend, 
For now defie I thee." 

They buckled then together so, 

Like two wild boars rashing, 110 

And with their swords and shields they ran 

At one another slashing. 

The ground besprinkled was with blood, 

Tarquin began to faint ; 
For he gave back, and bore his shield IM 

So low, he did repent. 

This soon espied Sir Lancelot tho ; 

He leapt upon him then, 
He pull'd him down upon his knee, 

And rushed off his helm. 120 

And then he struck his neck in two ; 

And when he had done so, 
From prison, threescore knights and four 

Lancelot delivered tho. 

112, flashing. 117, 'spied. 120, rushing. 


(Percy's JReliques, iii. 143.) 

"PUBLISHED from an ancient MS. copy in the 
Editor's old folio volume, collated with two printed 
ones, one of which is in black-letter in the Pepys col 
lection." PERCY. 

An inferior copy is printed in Eitson's Ancient Songs 
and Ballads, ii. 193. 

From an essay on the romance of Sir Guy, read by 
Mr. Wright before the British Archaeological Associ 
ation during its meeting at Warwick, we extract the 
following remarks in illustration of the history of the 
present ballad, and other similar popular heroic tra 

" As the Teutonic tribes progressed in their migra 
tions, and settled in new lands and especially when 
they received a new faith, and made advances in civ 
ilization, the mythic romances of their forefathers 
underwent remarkable modifications to adapt them to 
new sentiments and new manners. Among people 
who had forgotten the localities to which they refer 
red, they received a new location and became identi 
fied with places and objects with which people were 
better acquainted, and in this manner they underwent 


a new historical interpretation. It would be no unin 
teresting task to point out how many romantic tales 
that are soberly related of individuals of comparatively 
modern history, are merely new applications of these 
early myths. 

" Among the romances of the Anglo-Danish cycle 
by no means the least celebrated is that of GUY OF 
WARWICK. It is one, of the few, which has been pre 
served in its Anglo-Norman form, since which it has 
gone through an extraordinary number of versions, 
and Chaucer enumerated it among the romances of 
pris, or those which in the fourteenth century were 
held in the highest estimation. It is doubtless one of 
those stories in which an ancient mythic romance has 
undergone the series of modifications I have been de 
scribing ; a legend which had become located by pop 
ular traditions in the neighbourhood we are now visit 
ing, in which the contests between northern chieftains 
are changed into tilts and tournaments, but in which 
the combats with dragons and giants are still pre 
served. Whatever may have been the name of the 
original hero, that which he now bears, Guy, is a 
French name, and could not have been given till Nor 
man times. 

" From the Anglo-Norman poem, so great was its pop 
ularity, two or three different English metrical versions 
were made, which are still found in manuscripts, and 
the earliest of which, that of the well-known Auchin- 
lech manuscript, has been printed in a very expen 
sive form by one of the Scottish Antiquarian clubs. 
It was next transformed into French prose, and in 
that form was popular in the fifteenth century, and 
was printed by some of the earlier printers. It was 
finally reduced to a popular chap-book in prose and a 


broadside ballad in verse, and in these forms was 
hawked about the streets until a very recent period. 
Such has in general been the fate of the romantic 
literature of the middle ages ; a remarkable proof of 
the tenacity with which it has kept its hold on the 
popular mind." Gentleman's Magazine, Sept. 1847, 
p. 300. 

WAS ever knight for ladyes sake 
Soe tost in love, as I, Sir Guy, 

For Phelis fayre, that lady bright 
As ever man beheld with eye ? 

She gave me leave myself to try, 5 

The valiant knight with sheeld and speare, 

Ere that her love she would grant me ; 
Which made mee venture far and neare. 

Then proved I a baron bold, 

In deeds of armes the doughtyest knight 10 
That in those dayes in England was, 

With sworde and speare in feild to fight. 

An English man I was by birthe : 
In faith of Christ a christyan true : 

The wicked lawes of infidells is 

I sought by prowesse to subdue. 

9, The proud Sir Guy, PC. 


' Nine' hundred twenty yeere and odde 
After our Saviour Christ his birth, 

When King Athelstone wore the crowne, 
I lived heere upon the earth. ac 

Sometime I was of Warwicke erle, 

And, as I sayd, of very truth 
A ladyes love did me constraine 

To seeke strange ventures in my youth ; 

To win me fame by feates of armes 25 

In strange and sundry heathen lands ; 

Where I atchieved for her sake 

Right dangerous conquests with my hands. 

For first I sayled to Normandye, 

And there I stoutlye wan in fight ^ 

The emperours daughter of Almaine, 
From manye a vallyant worthye knight. 

Then passed I the seas to Greece, 
To helpe the emperour in his right, 

Against the mightye souldans hoaste M 

Of puissant Persians for to fight : 

Where I did slay of Sarazens, 

And heathen pagans, manye a man ; 

And slew the souldans cozen deere, 

Who had to name doughtye Coldran. 40 
17, Two hundred, MS. and PC. 


Eskeldered, a famous knight, 
To death likewise I did pursue : 

And Elmayne, King of Tyre, alsoe, 
Most terrible in fight to viewe. 

I went into the souldans hoast, 

Being thither on embassage sent, 

And brought his head awaye with mee ; 
I having slaine him in his tent. 

There was a dragon in that land 

Most fiercelye mett me by the waye, fio 
As hee a lyon did pursue, 

Which I myself did alsoe slay. 

Then soon I past the seas from Greece, 
And came to Pavye land aright ; 

Where I the duke of Pavye killed, M 

His hainous treason to requite. 

To England then I came with speede, 
To wedd faire Phelis, lady bright ; 

For love of whome I travelled farr 

To try my manhood and my might. en 

But when I had espoused her, 

I stayd with her but fortye dayes, 

Ere that I left this ladye faire, 

And went from her beyond the seas. 

)L. I. 5 


All cladd in gray, in pilgrim sort, 
My voyage from her I did take 

Unto the blessed Holy-Land, 

For Jesus Christ my Saviours sake. 

Where I Erie Jonas did redeeme, 

And all his sonnes, which were fifteene, 

Who with the cruell Sarazens 
In prison for long time had beene. 

I slew the gyant Amarant 

In battel fiercelye hand to hand, 

And doughty Barknard killed I, 

A treacherous knight of Pavye land. 

Then I to England came againe, 

And here with Colbronde fell I fought ; 

An ugly gyant, which the Danes 

Had for their champion hither brought. 

I overcame him in the feild, 

And slewe him soone right valliantlye ; 
Wherebye this land I did redeeme 

From Danish tribute utterlye. 

And afterwards I offered upp 
The use of weapons solemnlye 

At Winchester, whereas I fought, 
In sight of manye farr and nye. 


1 But first/ neare Winsor, I did slaye 

A bore of passing might and strength ; 90 

Whose like in England never was 

For hugenesse both in bredth and length. 

Some of his bones in Warwicke yett 
Within the castle there doth lye ; 

One of his sheeld-bones to this day 95 

Hangs in the citye of Coventrye. 

On Dunsmore heath I alsoe slewe 
A monstrous wyld and cruell beast, 

Calld the Dun-cow of Dunsmore heath ; 
Which manye people had opprest. 100 

Some of her bones in Warwicke yett 

Still for a monument doth lye, 
And there exposed to lookers viewe, 

As wondrous strange, they may espye. 

A dragon in Northumberland 105 

I alsoe did in fight destroye, 
Which did bothe man and beast oppresse, 

And all the countrye sore annoye. 

At length to Warwicke I did come, 

Like pilgrim poore, and was not knowne ; 

And there I lived a hermitts life 111 

A mile and more out of the towne. 


Where with my hands I hewed a house 
Out of a craggy rocke of stone, 

And lived like a palmer poore 
Within that cave myself alone : 

And daylye came to begg my bread 
Of Phelis att my castle gate ; 

Not knowne unto my loved wiffe, 
Who dailye mourned for her mate. 

Till att the last I feU sore sicke, 

Yea, sicke soe sore that I must dye ; 

I sent to her a ring of golde, 

By which shee knew me presentlye. 

Then shee repairing to the cave, 
Before that I gave up the ghost, 

Herself closd up my dying eyes ; 
My Phelis faire, whom I lovd most. 

Thus dreadful death did me arrest, 
To bring my corpes unto the grave, 

And like a palmer dyed I, 

Wherby I sought my soule to save. 

My body that endured this toyle, 
Though now it be consumed to mold, 

My statue, faire engraven in stone, 
In Warwicke still you may behold. 


(From Percy's Reliques, iii. 278.) 

The following rhymed legend, which, like several 
other pieces in this Book, can be called a ballad only 
by an objectionable, though common, extension of the 
term, was printed by Percy (with some alterations) 
from two " ancient " black-letter copies in the Pepys 

Real popular ballads on St. George's victory over 
the Dragon exist in several languages, though not in 
English.* Such a ballad is known to have been sung 
by the Swedes at the battle of Brunkeberg in 1471, 
and one is still sung by the people both of Denmark 
and Sweden. Grundtvig gives three copies of the 
Danish ballad, two of the 16th and 17th centu 
ries, and one of the present. Four versions of 
the Swedish have been published, of various ages 
(e. g. Soenska Folkvisor, ii. 252). A German ballad 
is given by Meinert, Altdeutsclie Volkslieder, p. 254 ; 
after him by Erlach, iv. 258 ; and Haupt and Schma- 

* What follows is abridged from Grundtvig, Danmarlcs 
Gamle Folkeviser, ii. 554. 


ler have printed two widely different versions of the 
ballad in Wendish, Volkslieder der Wenden, vol. i. 
No. 285, ii. No. 195. These are all the proper tra 
ditional ballads upon this subject which are known to 
be preserved, unless we include a piece called Jurg 
Drachentb'dter, in Zuccalmaglio's Deutsche Volkslieder^ 
No. 37, which is of suspicious authenticity. The piece 
called Ritter St. Georg, in Des Kndben Wunderhorn, 
i. 151, is not a proper ballad, but a rhymed legend, 
like the one here printed, though intended to be sung. 

The hero of these ballads, St. George of Cappa- 
docia, is said to have suffered martyrdom during the 
persecution in Syria, in the year 303. In the 6th 
century he was a recognized saint both in the west 
ern and the eastern churches, and his reputation was 
limited to this character until the 13th. Reinbot 
von Dorn, (1231-53,) in his poem Der Heilige Georg, 
(Von der Hagen and Biisching's Deutsche Gedichte 
des Mittelallers,} and Vincent de Beauvais (f 1262) in 
his Speculum Historiale (XII. 131-32), content them 
selves with recounting his martyrdom, and appear to 
know nothing about his fight with the Dragon. The 
first known writer who attributes this exploit to St. 
George is Jacobus a Voragine (f 1298), in the Golden 
Legend. Of course it does not follow that the story 
originated there. It is probable that the legend of the 
Dragon arose at the time of the Crusades, and indeed 
was partly occasioned by them, though we ought not 
hastily to admit, what has been suggested, that it was 
founded upon some tradition which the Crusaders 
heard in Syria. 

The Byzantians had long before ascribed various 
miracles to St. George, but it was the Normans, who, 
so to say, first pressed him into active military service. 


It was he that commanded the heavenly host that came 
to the help of the Crusaders against the Turks, under 
the walls of Antioch, in the year 1098, on which occa 
sion he was seen on his white horse, bearing the white 
banner with the red cross. He manifested himself 
again at the storming of Jerusalem in the following 
year, and a hundred years later was seen to fight in 
the front rank against the Moors in Spain, and for 
Frederic Barbarossa, in his crusade in 1190. But 
though he had entered into the service of the German 
emperor, this did not prevent his aiding the orthodox 
William of Holland in taking Aix-la-Chapelle from 
the excommunicated Emperor Frederic in 1248. 
The most various races have contended for his protec 
tion. His feast was in 1222 ordered to be kept as a hol 
iday throughout all England: from the beginning of the 
14th century, or since the Mongol dominion was shaken 
off, he has been one of the guardian saints of Russia : 
in 1468, the Emperor Frederic III. founded the Aus 
trian Order of St. George for the protection of the Em 
pire against the Turks, and a few years later, in 1471, 
at the momentous battle of Brunkeberg, his name was 
the war-cry of both parties, Swedes and Danes. 

That the subjugation of the Dragon (a symbolical 
mode of representing the extinction of Evil common 
to all times and peoples) should be attributed to St. 
George, would seem to be sufficiently explained by his 
having become the Christian Hero of the Middle Ages. 
A special reason may, however, be alleged for his con 
nection with such a legend. Long before the Cru 
sades, he was depicted by the artists of the Oriental 
Church as the Great Martyr, with the Dragon (Anti- 
Christ or the Devil) at his feet, and a crowned virgin 
(the Church) at his side. In like manner had Constan- 


tine the Great had himself drawn, and many other 
saints are represented in the same way, as Theodore, 
Victor, and Margaret, This symbolic representation 
would naturally lead to the Crusaders making St. 
George the hero in an achievement which was well 
known in connection with other names : and it would 
then not be too much to assume that the Normans 
(who, as already said, were the first to recognize his 
presence in battle), the same Normans who were 
properly the creators of the romantic poetry of the 
Middle Ages, were also the first to connect St. 
George with the conquest of the Dragon. 

But however we may account for St. George's being 
introduced into such a legend, so much is sure ; that 
from the 14th century on, the story and the hero have 
been inseparable : all the legendaries and all the pic 
tures of him exhibit him as the conqueror of the 
Dragon : his martyrdom is nearly lost sight of, and in 
ballads is entirely forgotten. As to the place which 
was the scene of the fight, there are many opinions. 
Some have fixed it in Cappadocia, others in Lybia, 
others in Syria, and some European nations have 
assigned the adventure to a locality within their own 
bounds. Thus the Wallachians lay the scene at Or- 
woza, one of the Wendish ballads at Berlin, the Ger 
mans at Leipsic, the Dutch at Oudenarde, and 

the people of the island of Funen at Svendborg ! 

OF Hector's deeds did Homer sing, 
And of the sack of stately Troy, 

What griefs fair Helena did bring, 
Which was Sir Paris' only joy : 


And by my pen I will recite o 

St. George's deeds, an English knight. 

Against the Sarazens so rude 

Fought he full long and many a day, 

Where many gyaunts he subdu'd, 

In honour of the Christian way ; ^ 

And after many adventures past, 

To Egypt land he came at last. 

Now, as the story plain doth tell, 
Within that countrey there did rest 

A dreadful dragon, fierce and fell, is 

Whereby they were full sore opprest : 

Who by his poisonous breath each day 

Did many of the city slay. 

The grief whereof did grow so great 

Throughout the limits of the land, ac 

That they their wise men did intreat 
To shew their cunning out of hand ; 

What way they might this fiend destroy, 

That did the countrey thus annoy. 

The wise men all before the king, 25 

This answer fram'd incontinent : 
The dragon none to death might bring 

By any means they could invent ; 
His skin more hard than brass was found, 
That sword nor spear could pierce nor wound. 


When this the people understood, 
They cryed out most piteouslye, 

The dragon's breath infects their blood, 
That every day in heaps they dye ; 

Among them such a plague is bred, 

The living scarce could bury the dead. 

No means there were, as they could hear, 
For to appease the dragon's rage, 

But to present some virgin clear, 

"Whose blood his fury might asswage ; 

Each day he would a maiden eat, 

For to allay his hunger great. 

This thing by art the wise men found, 
Which truly must observed be ; 

Wherefore, throughout the city round, 
A virgin pure of good degree 

Was, by the king's commission, still 

Taken up to serve the dragon's will. 

Thus did the dragon every day 
Untimely crop some virgin flowr, 

Till all the maids were worn away, 
And none were left him to devour ; 

Saving the king's fair daughter bright, 

Her father's only heart's delight. 

Then came the officers to the king, 
That heavy message to declare, 


Which did his heart with sorrow sting ; 

" She is," quoth he, " my kingdom's heir : 
O let us all be poisoned here, 
Ere she should die, that is my dear." GO 

Then rose the people presently, 

And to the king in rage they went ; 
They said his daughter dear should dye, 

The dragon's fury to prevent : 
" Our daughters all are dead," quoth they, & 
" And have been made the dragon's prey ; 

" And by their blood we rescued were, 

And thou hast sav'd thy life thereby ; 
And now in sooth it is but faire, 

For us thy daughter so should die." ro 

" O save my daughter," said the king, 
" And let ME feel the dragon's sting." 

Then fell fair Sabra on her knee, 

And to her father dear did say, 
" father, strive not thus for me, rs 

But let me be the dragon's prey ; 
It may be, for my sake alone 
This plague upon the land was thrown. 

" 'Tis better I should dye," she said, 

" Than all your subjects perish quite ; so 

Perhaps the dragon here was laid, 
For my offence to work his spite, 


And after he hath suckt my gore, 
Your land shall feel the grief no more." 

" What hast thou done, my daughter dear, 

For to deserve this heavy scourge ? 
It is my fault, as may appear, 

Which makes the gods our state to purge ; 
Then ought I die, to stint the strife, 
And to preserve thy happy life." *> 

Like mad-men, all the people cried, 
" Thy death to us can do no good ; 
Our safety only doth abide 

In making her the dragon's food." 
" Lo ! here I am, I come," quoth she, 95 

u Therefore do what you will with me." 

" Nay stay, dear daughter," quoth the queen, 
" And as thou art a virgin bright, 
That hast for vertue famous been, 

So let me cloath thee all in white ; ioc 

And crown thy head with flowers sweet, 
An ornament for virgins meet." 

And when she was attired so, 
According to her mother's mind, 

Unto the stake then did she go, i< 

To which her tender limbs they bind ; 

And being bound to stake a thrall, 

She bade farewell unto them all. 


" Farewell, my father dear," quoth she, 
" And my sweet mother, meek and mild ; uo 
Take you no thought nor weep for me, 

For you may have another child ; 
Since for my country's good I dye, 
Death I receive most willinglye." 

The king and queen and all their train us 

With weeping eyes went then their way, 

And let their daughter there remain, 
To be the hungry dragon's prey : 

But as she did there weeping lye, 

Behold St. George came riding by. wo 

And seeing there a lady bright 
So rudely tyed unto a stake, 
As well became a valiant knight, 

He straight to her his way did take : 
" Tell me, sweet maiden," then quoth he, 125 
" What caitif thus abuseth thee ? 

" And, lo ! by Christ his cross I vow, 
Which here is figured on my breast, 

I will revenge it on his brow, 

And break my lance upon his chest : " iso 

And speaking thus whereas he stood, 

The dragon issued from the wood. 

The lady, that did first espy 
The dreadful dragon coming so, 


Unto St. George aloud did cry, i* 

And willed him away to go ; 
" Here comes that cursed fiend," quoth she, 
" That soon will make an end of me." 

St. George then looking round about, 

The fiery dragon soon espy'd, HO 

And like a knight of courage stout, 
Against him did most fiercely ride ; 

And with such blows he did him greet, 

He fell beneath his horse's feet. 

For with his launce, that was so strong, i 

As he came gaping in his face, 
In at his mouth he thrust along ; 

For he could pierce no other place : 
And thus within the lady's view 
This mighty dragon straight he slew. iso 

Thesavour of his poisoned breath 
Could do this holy knight no harm ; 

Thus he the lady sav'd from death, 
And home he led her by the arm ; 

Which when King Ptolemy did see, iss 

There was great mirth and melody. 

When as that valiant champion there 
Had slain the dragon in the field, 

To court he brought the lady fair, 

Which to their hearts much joy did yield, 


He in the court of Egypt staid isi 

Till he most falsely was betray'd. 

That lady dearly lov'd the knight, 

He counted her his only joy ; 
But when their love was brought to light, iss 

It turn'd unto their great annoy. 
Th' Morocco king was in the court, 
Who to the orchard did resort ; 

Dayly, to take the pleasant air ; 

For pleasure sake he us'd to walk ; ITO 

Under a wall he oft did hear 

St. George with Lady Sabra talk ; 
Their love he shew'd unto the king, 
Which to St. George great woe did bring. 

Those kings together did devise 175 

To make the Christian knight away : 

With letters him in curteous wise 
They straightway sent to Persia, 

But wrote to the sophy him to kill, 

And treacherously his blood to spill. iso 

Thus they for good did him reward 

With evil, and most subtilly, 
By such vile meanes, they had regard 

To work his death most cruelly ; 
Who, as through Persia land he rode, iss 

With zeal destroy'd each idol god. 


For which offence he straight was thrown 

Into a dungeon dark and deep ; 
Where, when he thought his wrongs upon, 

He bitterly did wail and weep : 190 

Yet like a knight of courage stout, 
At length his way he digged out. 

Three grooms of the King of Persia 
By night this valiant champion slew, 

Though he had fasted many a day, IPS 

And then away from thence he flew 

On the best steed the sophy had ; 

Which when he knew he was full mad. 

Towards Christendom he made his flight, 
But met a gyant by the way, 200 

With whom in combat he did fight 
Most valiantly a summer's day : 

Who yet, for all his bats of steel, 

Was forc'd the sting of death to feel. 

Back o'er the seas, with many bands 203 

Of warlike souldiers soon he past, 

Vowing upon those heathen lands 
To work revenge ; which at the last, 

Ere thrice three years were gone and spent, 

He wrought unto his heart's content. 210 

Save onely Egypt land he spar'd, 
For Sabra bright her only sake, 


And, ere for her he had regard, 

He meant a tryal kind to make : 
Meanwhile the king, o'ercome in field, as 

Unto Saint George did quickly yield. 

Then straight Morocco's king he slew, 

And took fair Sabra to his wife, 
But meant to try if she were true, 

Ere with her he would lead his life ; 220 

And, tho' he had her in his train, 
She did a virgin pure remain. 

Toward England then that lovely dame 
The brave St. George conducted strait, 

An eunuch also with them came, 225 

Who did upon the lady wait. 

These three from Egypt went alone : 

Now mark St. George's valour shown. 

When as they in a forest were, 

The lady did desire to rest : sso 

Meanwhile St. George to kill a deer 

For their repast did think it best : 
Leaving her with the eunuch there, 
Whilst he did go to kill the deer. 

But lo ! all in his absence came 255 

Two hungry lyons, fierce and fell, 

And tore the eunuch on the same 
In pieces small, the truth to tell ; 

VOL. I. 6 


Down by the lady then they laid, 
Whereby they shew'd she was a maid. 

But when he came from hunting back, 
And did behold this heavy chance, 

Then for his lovely virgin's sake 
His courage strait he did advance, 

And came into the lions sight, 

Who ran at him with all their might. 

Their rage did him no whit dismay, 
Who, like a stout and valiant knight, 

Did both the hungry lyons slay 
Within the Lady Sabra's sight : 

Who all this while, sad and demure, 

There stood most like a virgin pure. 

Now when St. George did surely know 
This lady was a virgin true, 

His heart was glad, that erst was woe, 
And all his love did soon renew : 

He set her on a palfrey steed, 

And towards England came with speed. 

Where being hi short space arriv'd 
Unto his native dwelling place, 

Therein with his dear love he liv'd, 
And fortune did his nuptials grace : 

They many years of joy did see, 

And led their lives at Coventry. 


The Famous Historic of the Seven Champions of 
Christendom, is the work of Richard Johnson, a bal 
lad maker of some note at the end of the 16th and 
beginning of the 1 7th century. All that is known of 
him may be seen in Chappel's Introduction to the 
Crown Garland of Golden Roses, of which Johnson 
was the compiler or the author. (Percy Society, vol. 
vi.) " The Story of St. George and the Fair Sabra," 
says Percy, " is taken almost verbatim from the old 
poetical legend of Sir Bevis of Hampton." 

The Seven Champions is twice entered on the Sta 
tioners' Registers in the year 1596. It is here re 
printed from A Collection of Old Ballads, 1723, vol. 
i. 28. The same copy is in Evans's collection, i. 372. 

Now of the Seven Champions here 

My purpose is to write, 
To show how they with sword and spear 

Put many foes to flight ; 
Distressed ladies to release, 

And captives bound in chains, 
That Christian glory to increase 

Which evermore remains. 


First, I give you to understand 

That great Saint George by name, 
Was the true champion of our land ; 

And of his birth and fame, 
And of his noble mother's dream, 

Before that he was born, 
The which to her did clearly seem 

Her days would be forlorn. 

This was her dream ; that she did bear 

A dragon in her womb ; 
"Which griev'd this noble lady fair, 

'Cause death must be her doom. 
This sorrow she could not conceal, 

So dismal was her fear, 
So that she did the same reveal 

Unto her husband dear ; 

Who went for to inquire straight 

Of an enchanteress ; 
When, knocking at her iron gate, 

Her answer it was this : 
" The lady shall bring forth a son, 

By whom, in tract of time, 
Great noble actions shall be done ; 

He will to honour climb. 

" For he shall be in banners wore ; 

This truth I will maintain ; 
Your lady, she shall die before 


You see her face again." 
His leave he took, and home he went ; 

His wife departed lay ; 
But that which did his grief augment, 

The child was stole away. 

Then did he travel in despair, 

Where soon with grief he died ; 
While the young child, his son and heir, 

Did constantly abide 
With the wise lady of the grove, 

In her enchanted cell ; 
Amongst the woods he oft did rove, 

His beauty pleased her well. 

Blinded with love, she did impart, 

Upon a certain day, so 

To him her cunning magic art, 

And where six Champions lay 
Within a brazen castle strong, 

By an enchanted sleep, 
And where they had continued long ; 

She did the castle keep. 

She taught and show'd him every thing 

Through being free and fond ; 
Which did her fatal ruin bring ; 

For with a silver wand 00 

He clos'd her up into a rock, 

By giving one small stroke ; 


So took possession of her stock, 
And the enchantment broke. 

Those Christian Champions being freed 

From their enchanted state, 
Each mounted on his prancing steed, 

And took to travel straight ; 
Where we will leave them to pursue 

Kind fortune's favours still, 
To treat of our own champion, who 

Did courts with wonders fill. 

For as he came to understand, 

At an old hermit's cell, 
How, in the vast Egyptian land, 

A dragon fierce and fell 
Threatened the ruin of them all, 

By his devouring jaws, 
His sword releas'd them from that thrall, 

And soon remov'd the cause. 

This dreadful dragon must destroy 

A virgin every day, 
Or else with stinks he'U them annoy, 

And many thousands slay. 
At length the king's own daughter dear, 

For whom the court did mourn, 
Was brought to be devoured here, 

For she must take her turn. 


The king by proclamation said, 

If any hardy knight 

Could free this fair young royal maid, 

And slay the dragon quite, 
Then should he have her for his bride, 

And, after death, likewise 
His crown and kingdom too beside : 

Saint George he won the prize. 

When many hardy strokes he'd dealt, 

And could not pierce his hide, 
He run his sword up to the hilt 

In at the dragon's side ; 100 

By which he did his life destroy, 

Which cheer'd the drooping king ; 
This caused an universal joy, 

Sweet peals of bells did ring. 

The daughter of a king, for pride MB 

Transformed into a tree 
Of mulberries, Saint Denis spied, 

And being hungery, 
Of that fair fruit he ate a part, 

And was transformed likewise ut 

Into the fashion of a hart, 

For seven years precise. 

At which he long bewail'd the loss 

Of manly shape : then goes 
To him his true and trusty horse, us 

107, which Dennis. 


And brings a blushing rose, 
By which the magic spell was broke, 

And both were fairly freed 
From the enchanted heavy yoke : 

They then in love agreed. 120 

Now we come to Saint James of Spain, 

Who slew a mighty boar, 
In hopes that he might honour gain, 

But he must die therefore : 
Who was allow'd his death to choose, 125 

Which was by virgins' darts, 
But they the same did all refuse, 

So tender were their hearts. 

The king's daughter at length, by lot, 

Was doomed to work his woe ; iao 

From her fair hands a fatal shot, 

Out of a golden bow, 
Must put a period to the strife ; 

At which grief did her seize. 
She of her father begg'd his life 135 

Upon her bended knees ; 

Saying, " my gracious sovereign Lord, 

And honoured father dear, 
He well deserves a large reward ; 

Then be not so severe. i*> 

Give me his life ! " He grants the boon, 

And then without delay, 


This Spanish champion, ere 'twas noon, 
Rid with her quite away. 

Now come we to Saint Anthony, us 

A man with valour fraught, 
The champion of fair Italy, 

Who many wonders wrought. 
First, he a mighty giant slew, 

The terror of mankind : ino 

Young ladies fair, pure virgins too, 

This giant kept confined 

Within his castle walls of stone, 

And gates of solid brass, 
Where seven ladies made their moan, iss 

But out they could not pass. 
Many brave lords, and knights likewise, 

To free them did engage, 
Who fell a bleeding sacrifice 

To this fierce giant's rage. wo 

Fair daughters to a royal king ! 

Yet fortune, after all, 
Did our renowned champion bring 

To free them from their thrall. 
Assisted by the hand of heaven, m 

He ventured life and limb : 
Behold the fairest of the seven, 

She fell in love with him. 


That champion good, bold Saint Andrew, 

The famous Scottish knight, izo 

Dark gloomy deserts travelled through, 

Where Phosbus gave no light. 
Haunted with spirits, for a while 

His weary course he steers, 
Till fortune blessed him with a smile, ITS 

And shook off all his fears. 

This Christian champion travell'd long, 

Till at the length he came 
Unto the giant's castle strong, 

Great Blanderon by name, iso 

Where the king's daughters were transform'd 

Into the shape of swans : 
Though them he freed, their father storm'd, 

But he his malice shuns. 

For though five hundred armed knights iss 

Did straight beset him round, 
Our Christian champion with them fights, 

Till on the heathen ground 
Most of those Pagans bleeding lay ; 

Which much perplexed the king ; 190 

The Scottish champion clears the way, 

Which was a glorious thing. 

Saint Patrick too, of Ireland, 
That noble knight of fame, 
He travelled, as we understand, 195 


Till at the length he came 
Into a grove where satyrs dwelt, 

Where ladies he beheld, 
Who had their raged fury felt, 

And were with sorrow fill'd. 200 

He drew his sword, and did maintain 

A sharp and bloody fray, 
Till the ring-leader he had slain ; 

The rest soon fled away. 
This done, he asked the ladies fair, 205 

Who were in silks array'd, 
From whence they came, and who they were. 

They answered him and said : 

" We are all daughters to a king, 

Whom a brave Scottish knight ao 

Did out of tribulation bring : 

He having took his flight, 
Now after him we are in quest." 

Saint Patrick then replies, 
" He is my friend, I cannot rest a 

Till I find him likewise. 

" So, ladies, if you do intend 

To take your lot with me, 
This sword of mine shall you defend 

From savage cruelty." 220 

The ladies freely gave consent 

To travel many miles ; 


Through shady groves and woods they went, 
In search of fortune's smiles. 

The Christian champion David, went 225 

To the Tartarian court, 
Where at their tilt and tournament, 

And such like royal sport, 
He overthrew the only son 

Of the Count Palatine ; 290 

This noble action being done 

His fame began to shine. 

The young Count's sad and sudden death 

Turn'd all their joys to grief ; 
He bleeding lay, bereaved of breath, 235 

The father's son in chief; 
But lords and ladies blazed the fame 

Of our brave champion bold ; 
Saying, they ought to write his name 

In characters of gold. a 

Here have I writ a fair account 

Of each heroic deed, 
Done by these knights, which will surmount 

All those that shall succeed. 
The ancient chronicles of kings, 2*5 

Ere since the world begun, 
Can't boast of such renowned things 

As these brave knights have done. 


Saint George he was for England, 

Saint Dennis was for France, 250 

Saint James for Spain, whose valiant hand 

Did Christian fame advance : 
Saint Anthony for Italy, 

Andrew for Scots ne'er fails, 
Patrick too stands for Ireland, 255 

Saint David was for Wales. 

Thus have you those stout champions names 

In this renowned song : 
Young captive ladies bound in chains, 

Confined in castles strong, aao 

They did by knightly prowess free, 

True honour to maintain : 
Then let their lasting memory 

From age to age remain. 


THIS beautiful tale is transferred to these pages from 
Mr. Laing's Select Remains of the Ancient Popular 
Poetry of Scotland. The two " fytts " of prophecies 
which accompany it in the manuscripts, are omitted 
here, as being probably the work of another, and an 
inferior, hand. From the exordium by which the story 
is introduced, it might be concluded that the author 
was an Englishman. Indeed, all the poems and pro 
phecies attributed to Thomas the Khimer which re 
main to us, are preserved in English manuscripts and 
an English dress ; but, in the judgment of Mr. Jamieson, 
the internal evidence still almost amounts to proof that 
the romance itself was of Scottish origin, although no 
indubitably Scottish copy is now known to be in ex 

The hero of this legend is believed to have lived 
through nearly the whole of the 13th century. He 
derived his territorial appellation from the village of 
Erceldoune, in the county of Berwick, lying on the 
river Leader, about two miles above its junction with 
the Tweed. The Huntly bank on which the meeting 
of Thomas with the Queen of Fairy took place, is 
situated, according to Mr. Laing, on one of the Eldoun 
hills, but the same distinction is claimed for another 
place of like name, which, together with an adjoining 
ravine, called from time immemorial the Rymer's Glen, 


was included in the domain of Abbotsford. (See 
Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, iv. 110, v. 1.) 

"During the 14th, 15th, and 16th centuries, to get 
up a prophecy in the name of Thomas the Rhymer 
appears to have been found a good stroke of policy on 
many occasions. Thus was his authority employed to 
countenance the views of Edward III. against Scottish 
independence, to favor the ambitious views of the 
Duke of Albany in the minority of James V., and to 
sustain the spirits of the nation under the harassing 
invasions of Henry VIII. A small volume containing 
a collection of the rhymes thus put into circulation 
was published by Andro Hart in Edinburgh, in 1615." 
CHAMBERS, Pop. Rhymes of Scotland, p. 6. 

" This poem," says Mr. Laing, " is preserved in 
three ancient manuscripts, each of them in a state more 
or less mutilated, and varying in no inconsiderable de 
gree from the others. A portion of it was first printed 
in the Border Minstrelsy, [iv. 122,] from the fragment 
in the British Museum, among the Cotton MSS. ; and 
the one which Mr. Jamieson adopted in his collection 
of Popular Ballads and Songs [ii. 11,] was carefully 
deciphered from a volume of no ordinary curiosity, in 
the University Library, Cambridge, written in a very 
illegible hand, about the middle of the 15th century. 
It is now printed from the other copy, as it occurs in 
a volume, compiled at a still earlier period, which is 
preserved in the Cathedral Library of Lincoln. On 
comparison, it will be readily perceived, that the text 
is in every respect preferable to that of either of the 
other manuscripts. . . . An endeavor has been 
made to fill up the defective parts from the Cambridge 
copy, though in some instances, as will be seen, without 


success." Mr. Halliwell has republished the Cam 
bridge text in his Fairy Mythology, (p. 58,) and he 
cites a fourth manuscript, which, however, appears to 
be of slight importance. 


Lystnys, lordyngs, bothe grete and smale, 
And takis gude tente what I will say : 
I sail yow telle als trewe a tale, 
Als euer was herde by nyghte or daye : 

And the maste meruelle fforowttyn naye, 5 
That euer was herde byfore or syen, 
And therfore pristly I yow praye, 
That ye will of youre talkyng blyn. 

It es an harde thyng for to saye, 

Of doghety dedis that hase bene done ; 10 

Of felle feghtyngs and batells sere ; 

And how that knyghtis hase wonne thair schone. 

Bot Jhesu Christ, that syttis in trone, 
Safe Ynglysche men bothe ferre and nere ; 
And 1 sail telle yow tyte and sone, is 

Of battells done sythen many a yere ; 

And of batells that done sail bee ; 
In whate place, and howe and whare ; 
Ajid wha sail hafe the heghere gree ; 
And whethir partye sail hafe the werre ; 20 
VOL. i. 7 


Wha sail take the flyghte and flee ; 
And wha sail dye and byleue thare : 
Bot Jhesu Christ, that dyed on tre, 
Saue Inglysche men whare so thay fare. 

Als I me wente this endres-daye, 
Full faste in mynd makane my mone, 
In a mery mornynge of May, 
By Huntle bankkes my selfe allone, 

I herde the jaye, and the ' throstelle/ 
The mawys menyde of hir songe, 
The wodewale beryde als a belle, 
That all the wode abowte me ronge. 

Allone in longynge, thus als I laye, 
Vndre nethe a semely tre, 
1 Saw I ' whare a lady gaye, 
' Came ridand ' ouer a longe lee. 

If I suld sytt to Domesdaye, 

With my tonge, to wrebbe and wrye, 

Certanely that lady gaye, 

Neuer bese scho askryede for mee. 

Hir palfraye was a dappill graye ; 
Swilke one I saghe ne neuer none : 
Als dose the sonne, on someres daye, 
That faire lady hir selfe scho schone. 

22, Laing, by tene. 5, Line. MS. throstylle cokke. 


Hir selle it was of reele bone, 
Full semely was that syghte to see ! 
Stefly sett with precyous stones. 
And compaste all with crapotee, 

Stones of Oryence, grete plente. 

Hir hare abowte hir hede it hange ; 

Scho rode ouer that lange lee ; 

A whylle scho blewe, a nother scho sange. 

Hir garthes of nobyll sylke they were ; 
The bukylls were of berelle stone ; 
Hir steraps were of crystalle clere, 
And all with perelle ouer bygone. 

Hir payetrelle was of iralle fyne ; 
Hir cropoure was of orfare ; 
And als clere golde hir brydill it schone ; 
One aythir syde hange bellys three. 

' Scho led seuen grew houndis in a leeshe ; ' 
And seuen raches by hir they rone ; 
Scho bare a home abowte hir halse ; 
And vnder hir belte full many a flone. 

Thomas laye and sawe that syghte, 
Vnder nethe ane semly tree ; 
He sayd, " yone es Marye most of myghte, 
That bare that childe that dyede for mee. 

21, sette, Laing. 


" But if I speke with yone lady bryghte, 
I hope myn herte will bryste in three ; 
Now sail I go with all my myghte, 
Hir for to mete at Eldoun tree." 

Thomas rathely vpe he rase, 

And he rane ouer that mountayne hye ; 

Gyff it be als the storye sayes, 

He hir mette at Eldone tree. 

He knelyde down appon his knee, 
Yndir nethe that grenwode spraye : 
And sayd, " lufly ladye ! rewe one mee ; 
Qwene of heuen, als thu wele maye ! " 

Then spake that lady milde of thoghte : - 
" Thomas, late swylke wordes bee ; 
Qwene of heuenne, am I noghte, 
For I tuke neuer so heghe degre. 

" Bot I ame of ane other contree, 
If I be payrelde moste of prysse ; 
I ryde aftyre this wylde fee ; 
My raches rynnys at my devyse." 

" If thu be parelde moste of prysse, 
And here rydis thus in thy folye, 
Of lufe, lady, als thu art wysse, 
Thou gyffe me leue to lye the bye." 


Scho sayde, " thu man, that ware folye ; 

I praye the, Thomas, thu lat me bee ; ro 

Ffor I saye the full sekirlye, 

That synne will fordoo all my beaute." 

" Now lufly ladye rewe on mee, 
And I will euer more with the duelle ; 
Here my trouthe I * plyghte to thee,' 7s 

Wethir thu will in heuen or helle." 

" Mane of molde, thu will me marre, 
But yitt thu sail hafe all thy will ; 
And trowe it wele, thu chewys the werre, 
Ffor alle my beaute will thu spylle." so 

Down than lyghte that lady bryghte, 
Vndir nethe that grene wode spraye ; 
And, als the storye tellis full ryghte, 
Seuen sythis by hir he laye. 

Scho sayd, " man, the lykes thi playe : 85 

What byrde in boure maye delle with the ? 
Thou merrys me all this longe daye ; 
I pray the, Thomas, late me bee." 

Thomas stode wpe in that stede, 

And he byhelde that lady gaye ; 90 

Hir hare it hange all ouer hir hede, 

Hir eghne semede owte, that are were graye. 


And all the riclie clothynge was awaye, 
That he byfore sawe in that stede ; 
Hir a schanke blake, hir other graye, as 

And all hir body lyke the lede ; 

Thomas laye, and sawe that syghte, 
Vndir nethe that grenewod tree. 

Than sayd Thomas, " alias ! alias ! 

In faythe this es a dullfull syghte ; 100 

How arte thu fadyde thus in the face, 

That schane byfore als the sonne so bryght ! " 

Scho sayd, " Thomas, take leve at sone and 


And als at lefe that grewes on tree ; 
This twelmoneth sail thu with me gone, 105 
And medill-erthe thu sail non see." 

He knelyd downe appon his knee, 
Vndir nethe that grenewod spraye ; 
And sayd, " Lufly lady ! rewe on mee, 
Mylde qwene of heuen, als thu beste maye." no 

" Alias ! " he sayd, " and wa es mee, 
I trewe my dedis will wirke me care ; 
My saulle, Jhesu, byteche I the, 
Whedir come that euer my banes sail fare." 

109, Lufly lady, i. e. Mary. 


Scho ledde hym in at Eldone hill, us 

Vndir nethe a derne lee ; 
Whare it was dirk as mydnyght myrke, 
And euer the water till his knee. 

The montenans of dayes three, 
He herd bot swoghyne of the node ; u 

At the laste, he sayde, " full wa es mee ! 
Almaste I dye, for fawte of fude." 

Scho lede hym in till a faire herbere, 
Whare frwte was ' growyng in gret plentee ; ' 
Pers and appill, bothe rype thay were, 125 

The date, and als the damasee ; 

The fygge, and als so the wyne-berye ; 
The nyghtyngales lyggande on thair neste ; 
The papeioyes faste abowte gan flye ; 
And throstylls sange, wolde hafe no reste. iso 

He pressede to pulle frowte with his hande, 
Als man for fude that was nere faynt ; 
Scho sayd, " Thomas, thu late tham stande, 
Or ells the fende the will atteynt. 

" If thu it plokk, sothely to say, isc 

Thi saule gose to the fyre of helle ; 
It comes neuer owte or Domesdaye, 
Bot ther in payne ay for to duelle. 


" Thomas, sothely, I the hyghte, 
Come lygge thyn hede down on my knee, wo 
And ' thou ' sail se the fayreste syghte, 
That euer sawe man of thi contree." 

He did in hye als scho hym badde ; 
Appone hir knee his hede he layde, 
Ffor hir to paye he was full glade, i 

And than that lady to him sayde 

" Seese thu nowe yone faire waye, 
That lyggis ouer yone heghe montayne ? 
Yone es the waye to heuen for aye, 
When synfull sawles are passed ther payne. ia> 

" Seese thu nowe yone other waye, 
That lygges lawe by nethe yone rysse ? 
Yone es the waye, the sothe to saye, 
Vnto the joye of paradyse. 

" Seese thu yitt yone third waye, IM 

That ligges vnder yone grene playne ? 
Yone es the waye, with tene and traye, 
Whare synfull saulis suffiris thare payne. 

" Bot seese thu nowe yone forthe waye, 
That lygges ouer yone depe delle ? 100 

Yone es the way, so waylawaye, 
Vnto the byrnande fyre of hell. 


" Seese thu yitt yone faire castelle, 
That standes vpone yone heghe hill ? 
Of towne and towre, it beris the belle ; ra 

In erthe es none lyk it vntill. 

" Ffor sothe, Thomas, yone es myn awenn, 
And the kynges of this countree ; 
Bot me ware leuer hanged and drawen, 
Or that he wyste thou laye me by. iro 

" When thu commes to yone castelle gay, 
I pray the curtase man to bee ; 
And whate so any man to the saye, 
Luke thu answere none bott mee. 

" My lorde es seruede at ylk a mese, m 

With thritty knyghttis faire and free ; 
I sail saye, syttande at the dasse, 
I tuke thi speche byyonde the see." 

Thomas still als stane he stude. 

And he byhelde that lady gaye ; iao 

Scho come agayne als faire and gude, 

And al so ryche one hir palfraye. 

Hir grewe hundis fillide with dere blode ; 
Hir rachis couplede, by my faye ; 
Scho blewe hir home with mayne and mode, is 
Vnto the castelle scho tuk the waye. 


In to the haulle sothely scho went ; 

Thomas foloued at hir hande ; 

Than ladyes come, bothe faire and gent, 

With curtassye to hir knelande. 190 

Harpe and fethill bothe thay fande, 
Getterne, and als so the sawtrye ; 
Lutte and rybybe, bothe gangande, 
And all manere of mynstralsye. 

The most meruelle that Thomas thoghte, 195 

When that he stode appon the flore ; 

Ffor feftty hertes in were broghte, 

That were bothe ' largely ' grete and store. 

Raches laye lapande in the blode, 
Cokes come with dryssynge knyfe ; 200 

They brittened tham als thay were wode ; 
Reuelle amanges thame was full ryfe. 

Knyghtis dawnsede by three and three, 
Thare was revelle, gamen, and playe, 
Lufly ladyes, faire and free, 205 

That satte and sange one riche araye. 

Thomas duellide in that solace 

More than I yowe saye, perde ; 

Till one a daye, so hafe I grace, 

My lufly lady sayde to mee : 210 


" Do busk the, Thomas, the busk agayne, 
Ffor thu may here no lengare be ; 
Hye the faste, with myghte and mayne ; 
I sail the brynge till Eldone tree." 

Thomas sayde than with heuy chere ; 21* 

" Lufly lady, nowe late me bee ; 
Ffor certis, lady, I hafe bene here 
Noghte bot the space of dayes three. 

" Ffor sothe, Thomas, als I the telle, 
Thou hase bene here thre yere and more ; 220 
Bot langere here thu may noghte dwelle ; 
The skylle I sail the telle wherefore. 

" To morne, of helle the foulle fende 
Amange this folke will feche his fee ; 
And thu arte mekill man and hende, 225 

I trowe full wele he wolde chese the. 

" Ffor all the gold that euer may bee, 
Ffro hethyn unto the worldis ende, 
Thou bese neuer betrayede for mee ; 
Therefore with me I rede thou wende." 230 

Scho broghte hym agayne to Eldone tree, ' 
Vndir nethe that grenewode spraye ; 
In Huntlee bannkes es mery to bee, 
Whare fowles synges bothe nyght and daye. 
211, buse agayne. 


" Fferre owtt in yone mountane graye, 235 

Thomas, my fawkon byggis a neste ; 
A fawcoun is an eglis praye ; 
Fforthi in na place may he reste. 

" Ffare well, Thomas ; I wend my waye ; 
Ffor me byhouys ouer thir benttis brown." 240 
Loo here a fy tt : more es to saye, 
All of Thomas of Erselldown. 



Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, (iv. 117.) " Given 
from a copy obtained from a lady residing not far from 
Ercildoune, corrected and enlarged by one in Mrs. 
Brown's MSS." 

TRUE THOMAS lay on Huntlie bank ; 

A ferlie he spied wi' his ee ; 
And there he saw a ladye bright, 

Come riding down by the Eildon Tree. 

Her shirt was o' the grass-green silk, 6 

Her mantle o' the velvet fyne ; 
At ilka tett of her horse's mane, 

Hung fifty siller bells and nine. 

True Thomas, he pulPd aff his cap, 

And louted low down to his knee : 10 

" All hail, thou mighty Queen of Heaven ! 

For thy peer on earth I never did see." 


"O no, no, Thomas," she said, 
" That name does not belang to me ; 
I am but the Queen of fair Elfland, 
That am hither come to visit thee. 

" Harp and carp, Thomas," she said ; 
" Harp and carp along wi' me ; 
And if ye dare to kiss my lips, 
Sure of your bodie I will be." 

" Betide me weal, betide me woe, 

That weird shall never daunton me." 
Syne he has kissed her rosy lips, 
All underneath the Eildon Tree. 

" Now, ye maun go wi' me," she said ; 
" True Thomas, ye maun go wi' me ; 
And ye maun serve me seven years, 

Thro' weal or woe as may chance to be." 

She mounted on her milk-white steed ; 

She's ta'en true Thomas up behind : 
And aye, whene'er her bridle rung, 

The steed flew swifter than the wind. 

O they rade on, and farther on ; 

The steed gaed swifter than the wind ; 
Until they reach'd a desert wide, 

And living land was left behind. 


" Light down, light down, now, true Thomas, 

And lean your head upon my knee ; 
Abide and rest a little space, 

And I will shew you ferlies three* * 

" O see ye not yon narrow road, 

So thick beset with thorns and briers ? 
That is the path of righteousness, 
Though after it but few enquires. 

" And see ye not that braid braid road, 45 

That lies across that lily leven ? 
That is the path of wickedness, 

Though some call it the road to heaven. 

" And see not ye that bonny road, 

That winds about the fernie brae ? so 

That is the road to fail- Elfland, 

Where thou and I this night maun gae. 

" But, Thomas, ye maun hold your tongue, 

Whatever ye* may hear or see ; 
For, if you speak word in Elfyn land, 

Ye'll ne'er get back to your ain countrie." 

they rade on, and farther on, [knee, 

And they waded through rivers aboon the 

And they saw neither sun nor moon, 

But they heard the roaring of the sea. *> 


Tt was mirk mirk night, and there was nae 

stern light, 
And they waded through red blude to the 

For a' the blude that's shed on earth 

Rins through the springs o' that countrie. 

Syne they came on to a garden green, es 

And she pu'd an apple frae a tree 
" Take this for thy wages, true Thomas ; 

It will give thee the tongue that can never 

" My tongue is mine ain," true Thomas said ; 
" A gudely gift ye wad gie to me ! ro 

I neither dought to buy nor sell, 
At fair or tryst where I may be. 

" I dought neither speak to prince or peer, 
Nor ask of grace from fair ladye." 

" Now hold thy peace ! " the lady said, n 

" For as I say, so must it be." 

70. The traditional commentary upon this ballad informs us, 
that the apple was the produce of the fatal Tree of Knowl 
edge, and that the garden was the terrestrial paradise. The 
repugnance of Thomas to be debarred the use of falsehood, 
when he might find it convenient, has a comic effect. 



He has gotten a coat of the even cloth, 
And a pair of shoes of velvet green ; 

And till seven years were gane and past, 
True Thomas on earth was never seen. so 

VOL. i. 8 


THE Tayl of the Yong Tamlene is mentioned in the 
Complaynt of Scotland, (1548,) and the dance of Thorn 
of Lyn is noticed in the same work. A considerable 
fragment of this ballad was printed by Herd, (vol. i. 
215,) under the title of Kertonha', a corruption of 
Carterhaugh ; another is furnished in Maidment's New 
Book of Old Ballads, (p. 54,) and a nearly complete 
version in Johnson's Museum, (p. 423,) which, with 
some alterations, was inserted in the Tales of Wonder, 
(No. 58.) The present edition, prepared by Sir Walter 
Scott from a collation of various copies, is longer than 
any other, but was originally disfigured by several sup 
posititious stanzas here omitted. Another version, with 
Maidment's fragment, will be found in the Appendix 
to this volume. 

" Carterhaugh is a plain, at the conflux of the Ettrick 
and Yarrow in Selkirkshire, about a mile above Sel 
kirk, and two miles below Newark Castle ; a roman 
tic ruin which overhangs the Yarrow, and which is 
said to have been the habitation of our heroine's father, 
though others place his residence in the tower of Oak- 
wood. The peasants point out, upon the plain, those 
electrical rings, which vulgar credulity supposes to be 
traces of the Fairy revels. Here, they say, were placed 


the stands of milk, and of water, in which Tamlane 
was dipped, in order to effect the disenchantment ; and 
upon these spots, according to their mode of express 
ing themselves, the grass will never grow. Miles 
Cross, (perhaps a corruption of Mary's Cross,) where 
fair Janet awaited the arrival of the Fairy- train, is 
said to have stood near the Duke of Buccleuch's seat 
of Bow-hill, about half a mile from Carterhaugh." 
(ScOTT's Minstrelsy, ii. 334, at the end of a most in 
teresting essay, introductory to this tale, on the Fai 
ries of Popular Superstition.) 

" O I forbid ye, maidens a', 

That wear gowd on your hair, 
To come or gae by Carterhaugh, 
For young Tamlane is there. 

" There's nane that gaes by Carterhaugh, s 

But maun leave him a wad, 
Either gowd rings, or green mantles, 

Or else their maidenheid. 

" Now goWd rings ye may buy, maidens, 

Green mantles ye may spin ; 10 

But, gin ye lose your maidenheid, 
Ye'll ne'er get that agen." 

But up then spak her, fair Janet, 

The fairest o' a' her kin ; 
" 1 11 cum and gang to Carterhaugh, is 

And ask nae leave o' him." 


Janet has kilted her green kirtle, 

A little abune her knee ; 
And she has braided her yellow hair, 

A little abune her bree. 20 

And when she came to Carterhaugh, 

She gaed beside the well ; 
And there she fand his steed standing, 

But away was himsell. 

She hadna pu'd a red red rose, 25 

A rose but barely three ; 
Till up and starts a wee wee man, 

At lady Janet's knee. 

Says " Why pu' ye the rose, Janet ? 

What gars ye break the tree ? so 

Or why come ye to Carterhaugh, 

Withouten leave o' me ? " 

Says " Carterhaugh it is mine ain ; 

My daddie gave it me ; 
I'll come and gang to Carterhaugh, as 

And ask nae leave o' thee." 

He's ta'en her by the milk-white hand, 
Among the leaves sae green ; 

And what they did, I cannot tell 

The green leaves were between. *> 


He's ta'en her by the milk-white hand, 

Among the roses red ; 
And what they did, I cannot say 

She ne'er return'd a maid. 

When she cam to her father's ha', 

She looked pale and wan ; 
They thought she'd dreed some sair sickness, 

Or been with some leman. 

She didna comb her yellow hair, 

Nor make meikle o'er her head ; 

And ilka thing that lady took, 

Was like to be her deid. 

It's four and twenty ladies fair 

Were playing at the ba' ; 
Janet, the wightest of them anes, 

Was faintest o' them a\ 

Four and twenty ladies fair 

Were playing at the chess ; 
And out there came the fair Janet, 

As green as any grass. GO 

Out and spak an auld grey-headed knight, 

Lay o'er the castle wa', 
" And ever, alas ! for thee, Janet, 
But we'll be blamed a' ! " 


" Now haud your tongue, ye auld grey knight ! 

And an ill deid may ye die ; 

Father my bairn on whom I will, 

I'll father nane on thee." 

Out then spak her father dear, 

And he spak meik and mild 
" And ever, alas ! my sweet Janet, 
I fear ye gae with child." 

" And if I be with child, father, 

Mysell maun bear the blame ; TO 

There's ne'er a knight about your ha' 
Shall hae the bairnie's name. 

" And if I be with child, father, 

'Twill prove a wondrous birth ; 
For weel I swear I'm not wi' bairn it> 

To any man on earth. 

" If my love were an earthly knight, 

As he's an elfin grey, 
I wadna gie my ain true love 

For nae lord that ye hae." o 

She prink'd hersell and prinn'd hersell, 

By the ae light of the moon, 
And she's away to Carterhaugh, 

To speak wi' young Tamlane. 


And when she came to Carterhaugh, & 

She gaed beside the well ; 
And there she saw the steed standing, 

But away was himsell. 

She hadna pu'd a double rose, 

A rose but only twae, so 

When up and started young Tamlane, 

Says " Lady, thou pu's nae mae ! 

" Why pu' ye the rose, Janet, 
Within this garden grene, 
And a' to kill the bonny babe, w 

That we got us between ? " 

" The truth ye'll tell to me, Tamlane ; 

A word ye mauna lie ; 
Gin e'er ye was in haly chapel, 

Or sained in Christentie ? " 100 

" The truth I'll tell to thee, Janet, 

A word I winna lie ; 
A knight me got, and a lady me bore, 
As well as they did thee. 

" Randolph, Earl Murray, was my sire, ios 

Dunbar, Earl March, is thine ; 
We loved when we were children small, 
Which yet you well may mind. 


" When I was a boy just turn'd of nine, 

My uncle sent for me, no 

To hunt, and hawk, and ride with him, 
And keep him companie. 

" There came a wind out of the north, 

A sharp wind and a snell ; 
And a deep sleep came over me, n 

And frae my horse I fell. 

" The Queen of Fairies keppit me, 

In yon green hill to dwell ; 
And I'm a fairy, lyth and limb ; 

Fair ladye, view me well. 120 

u Then would I never tire, Janet, 

In Elfish land to dweU ; 
But aye, at every seven years, 
They pay the teind to hell ; 
And I am sae fat and fair of flesh, 125 

I fear 'twill be mysell. 

" This night is Hallowe'en, Janet, 

The morn is Hallowday ; 
And, gin ye dare your true love win, 

Ye hae nae time to stay. L-M 

" The night it is good Hallowe'en, 

When fairy folk will ride ; 
126. See Thtmas of Ersseldoune, (p. 107,) v. 225, 226. 


And they that wad their true-love win, 
At Miles Cross they maun bide." 

" But how shall I thee ken, Tamlane ? 135 

Or how shall I thee knaw, 
Amang so many unearthly knights, 
The like I never saw ? " 

" The first company that passes by, 

Say na, and let them gae ; 140 

The next company that passes by, 

Sae na, and do right sae ; 
The third company that passes by, 
Then I'll be ane o' thae. 

" First let pass the black, Janet, 145 

And syne let pass the brown ; 
But grip ye to the milk-white steed, 
And pu' the rider down. 

" For I ride on the milk-white steed, 

And aye nearest the town ; iso 

Because I was a christen'd knight, 
They gave me that renown. 

" My right hand will be gloved, Janet, 

My left hand will be bare ; 
And these the tokens I gie thee, i 

Nae doubt I will be there. 


" They'll turn me in your arms, Janet, 

An adder and a snake ; 
But had me fast, let me not pass, 

Gin ye wad buy me maik. ieo 

" They'll turn me in your arms, Janet, 

An adder and an ask ; 
They'll turn me in your arms, Janet, 
A bale that burns fast. 

" They'll turn me in your arms, Janet, it 

A red-hot gad o' airn ; 
But haud me fast, let me not pass, 
For I'll do you no harm. 

" First dip me in a stand o' milk, 

And then in a stand o' water ; uo 

But had me fast, let me not pass 
I'll be your bairn's father. 

" And, next, they'll shape me in your arms, 

A tod, but and an eel ; 

But had me fast, nor let me gang, irs 

As you do love me weel. 

" They'll shape me in your arms, Janet, 

A dove, but and a swan ; 
And, last, they'll shape me in your arms 
A mother-naked man : iso 


Cast your green mantle over me 
I'll be myself again." 

Gloomy, gloomy, was the night, 

And eiry was the way, 
As fair Janet, in her green mantle, iss 

To Miles Cross she did gae. 

Betwixt the hours of twelve and one, 

A north wind tore the bent ; 
And straight she heard strange elritch sounds 

Upon that wind which went ia> 

About the dead hour o' the night, 

She heard the bridles ring ; 
And Janet was as glad o' that 

As any earthly thing. 

Will o' Wisp before them went, iss 

Sent forth a twinkling light ; 
And soon she saw the Fairy bands 

All riding in her sight. 

And first gaed by the black black steed, 
And then gaed by the brown ; 200 

But fast she gript the milk-white steed, 
And pu'd the rider down. 

She pu'd him frae the milk-white steed, 
And loot the bridle fa' ; 


And up there raise an erlish cry 205 

" He's won amang us a' ! " 

They shaped him in fair Janet's arms, 

An esk, but and an adder ; 
She held him fast in every shape 

To be her bairn's father. 210 

They shaped him in her arms at last, 

A mother-naked man : 
She wrapt him in her green mantle, 

And sae her true love wan ! 

Up then spake the Queen o' Fairies, 215 

Out o' a bush o' broom 
" She that has borrow'd young Tamlane, 
Has gotten a stately groom." 

Up then spake the Queen o' Fairies, 

Out o' a bush o' rye * 

" She's ta'en awa the bonniest knight 
In a' my cumpanie. 

" But had I kenn'd, Tamlane," she says, 
" A lady wad borrow'd thee 
I wad ta'en out thy twa grey een, 22* 

Put in twa een o' tree. 

" Had I but kenn'd, Tamlane," she says, 
" Before ye came frae hame 


I wad ta'en out your heart o' flesh, 

Put in a heart o' stane. o 

" Had I but had the wit yestreen 

That I hae coft the day 
I'd paid my kane seven times to hell 
Ere you'd been won away ! " 

V. 157-168, v. 208-214. The same process of disenchant 
ment is found in the Danish ballad Nattergakn, st. 20-22, 
Grundtvig, No. 57 (also Svenska Folk-visor, No. 41). The 
comparison with the transformations of Proteus is curious. 

oi)6' 6 yepuv do^drjg iT 
d/U,' firoL TrpuTtara tewv yivef 
avrap eTretra dpanuv Trop6a?u<; 7jde fieyag avf 

vypbv vdup KOL dsvdpeov 
l^ 6' a,GTefj,<j>(i) e%ofiev rerT^orL 

iv. 454-59. 

Verum ubi correptum manibus vinclisque tenebis, 
Turn variae eludent species atque ora ferarum : 
Fiet enim subito sus horridus atraque tigris, 
Squamosusque draco, et fulva cervice leasna, 
Aut acrem flammae sonitum dabit, atque ita vinclis 
Excidet, aut in aquas tenues dilapsus abibit. 
Sed quanto ille magis forma's se vertet in omnes, 
Tanto, nate, magis contende tenacia vincla. 

Georgics, iv. 405-12. 


THIS ballad will be found, in forms slightly varying, 
in Herd, (i. 156 ;) Caw's Poetical Museum, (p. 348 ;) 
MotherwelPs Minstrelsy, (p. 343 ;) and Buchan's An 
cient Ballads, (i. 263.) It bears some resemblance to 
the beginning of the remarkable poem, Als Y Yod on 
ay Mounday, (see Appendix). The present version 
is from the Poetical Museum. 

As I was walking by my lane, 

Atween a water and a wa, 
There sune I spied a wee wee man, 

He was the least that eir I saw. 

His legs were scant a shathmont's length, 5 
And sma and limber was his thie ; 

Atween his shoulders was ae span, 
About his middle war but three. 

He has tane up a meikle stane, 

And flang't as far as I cold see ; 10 

Bin thouch I had been Wallace wicht, 

I dought na lift it to my knie. 

7. Much better in Motherwell. 

Between his een there was a span, 
Betwixt his shoulders there were ells three. 


" O wee wee man, but ye be strang ! 

Tell me whar may thy dwelling be ? " 
" I dwell beneth that bonnie bouir, 1$ 

will ye gae wi me and see ? " 

On we lap, and awa we rade, 
Till we cam to a bonny green ; 

We lichted syne to bait our steid, 

And out there cam a lady sheen ; 20 

Wi four and twentie at her back, 
A' comely cled in glistering green ; 

Thouch there the King of Scots had stude, 
The warst micht weil hae been his queen. 

On syne we past wi wondering cheir, 25 

Till we cam to a bonny ha ; 
The roof was o the beaten gowd, 

The flure was o the crystal a. 

When we cam there, wi wee wee knichts 
War ladies dancing, jimp and sma ; a> 

But in the twinkling of an eie, 
Baith green and ha war clein awa. 

29-32. There were pipers playing in every neuk, 

And ladies dancing, jimp and sma' ; 
And aye the owreturn o' their tune 
Was, " Our wee wee man has been lang awa ! " 



REPRINTED from A Collection of Curious Old Bal 
lads and Miscellaneous Poetry. Edinburgh. David 
Webster, 1824. 

Other versions are given in Motherwell's Minstrelsy, 
(see the Appendix to this volume ;) Kinloch's Ancient 
Scottish Ballads, (p. 145 ;) Buchan's Ancient Ballads, 
(ii. 296.) 

Similar collections of impossibilities in The Trooper 
and Fair Maid, Buchan, i. 230 ; Robin's Tesment, id., 
i. 273, or Aytoun, 2d ed. ii. 197; As I was walking 
under a grove, Pills to purge Melancholy, v. 37^ See 
also post, vol. ii. 224, 352, vol. iv. 132, 287 ; and in 
German, Von eitel unmoglichen Dingen, Erk's Lieder- 
hort, p. 334-37; Uhland, Eitle Dinge, No. 4, A, B; 
Wundcrhorn, ii. 410. 

The Elfin knight sits on yon hill, 

Ba, ba, ba, littie ba. 

He blaws his horn baith loud and shrill. 
The wind hath blawn my plaid awa. 

He blaws it east, he blaws it west, 
He blaws it where he liketh best. 

" I wish that horn were in my kist, 

Yea, and the knight in my arms niest." 

She had no sooner these words said, 
Than the knight came to her bed. 


" Thou art o'er young a maid," quoth he, 

" Married with me, that thou would'st be." M 

" I have a sister, younger than I, 
And she was married yesterday." 

" Married with me if thou would'st be, 
A curtisie thou must do to me. 

" It's ye maun mak a sark to me, is 

Without any cut or seam," quoth he ; 

" And ye maun shape it, knife-, sheerless, 
And also sew it needle-, threedless." 

" If that piece of courtisie I do to thee, 
Another thou must do to me. 20 

" I have an aiker of good ley land, 
Which lyeth low by yon sea strand ; 

" It's ye maun till't wi' your touting horn, 
And ye maun saw't wi' the pepper corn ; 

" And ye maun harrow't wi' a thorn, 25 

And hae your wark done ere the morn ; 

" And ye maun shear it wi' your knife, 
And no lose a stack o't for your life ; 


" And ye maun stack it in a mouse hole, 
And ye maun thrash it in your shoe sole ; so 

" And ye maun dight it in your loof, 
And also sack it in your glove ; 

" And ye maun bring it over the sea, 
Fair, and clean, and dry to me ; 

u And when that ye have done your wark, 35 
Come back to me, and ye'll get your sark." 

" I'll not quite my plaid for my life ; 
It haps my seven bairnes and my wife." 

" My maidenhead I'll then keep still, 
Let the Elfin knight do what he will. 40 

" My plaid awa, my plaid away, 
And owre the hills and far awa, 
And far awa to Norowa', 
My plaid shall not be blawn awa." 

33, thou must. 


A fragment of this ballad was printed in Herd's 
Collection, ("/'// wager, I'll wager," i. 226.) The 
present version is from the Border Minstrelsy, (iii. 
28,) and we have added another from Kinloch's An 
cient Scottish Ballads. A somewhat longer copy is 
given in Buchan's Ballads, (ii. 291,) and a modern 
ized English one, of no value, (The West Country 
Wager,) in Ancient Poems, &c., Percy Society, vol. 
xvii. p. 116. 

Brume, brume on hU, is mentioned in the Complaynt 
of Scotland, and formed part of Captain Cox's well- 
known collection. 

A Danish ballad exhibits the same theme, though 
differently treated: Sovnerunerne, Grundtvig, No. 81. 

THERE was a knight and a lady bright, 

Had a true tryst at the broom ; 
The ane ga'ed early in the morning, 

The other in the afternoon. 

And aye she sat in her mother's bower door, 5 

And aye she made her mane, 
" O whether should I gang to the Broomfield hill, 
Or should I stay at hame ? 


" For if I gang to the Broomfield hill, 

My maidenhead is gone ; 
And if I chance to stay at hame, 
My love will ca' me mansworn." 

Up then spake a witch woman, 

Aye from the room aboon ; 
" O, ye may gang to Broomfield hill, 
And yet come maiden hame. 

" For when ye come to the Broomfield hill, 

Yell find your love asleep, 
With a silver belt about his head, 
And a broom-cow at his feet. 

" Take ye the blossom of the broom, 

The blossom it smells sweet, 
And strew it at your true love's head, 
And likewise at his feet. 

" Take ye the rings off your fingers, 

Put them on his right hand, 
To let him know, when he doth awake, 
His love was at his command." 

She pu'd the broom flower on Hive-hill, 
And strew'd on's white hals bane, 

And that was to be wittering true, 
That maiden she had gane. 


" O where were ye, my milk-white steed, 

That I hae coft sae dear, 
That wadna watch and waken me, 35 

When there was maiden here ? " 

" I stamped wi' my foot, master, 

And gar'd my bridle ring ; 
But nae kin' thing wald waken ye, 

Till she was past and gane." *o 

" And wae betide ye, my gay goss hawk, 

That I did love sae dear, 
That wadna watch and waken me, 
"When there was maiden here." 

" I clapped wi' my wings, master, 45 

And aye my bells I rang, 
And aye cryM, Waken, waken, master, 
Before the ladye gang." 

" But haste and haste, my gude white steed, . 

To come the maiden till, so 

Or a' the birds of gude green wood 
Of your flesh shall have their fill." 

" Ye needna burst your gude white steed, 

Wi' racing o'er the howm ; 
Nae bird flies faster through the wood, K 

Than she fled through the broom." 


From Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, (p. 195.) 

I'LL wager, I'll wager," says Lord John, 
" A hundred merks and ten, 
That ye winna gae to the bonnie broom-fields, 
And a maid return again." 

" But I'll lay a wager wi' you, Lord John, 

A* your merks oure again, 
That I'll gae alane to the bonnie broom-fields, 
And a maid return again." 

Then Lord John mounted his grey steed, 
And his hound wi' his bells sae bricht, 10 

And swiftly he rade to the bonny broom-fields, 
Wi' his hawks, like a lord or knicht. 

" Now rest, now rest, my bonnie grey steed, 

My lady will soon be here ; 
And I'll lay my head aneath this rose sae red, w 
And the bonnie burn sae near." 

But sound, sound, was the sleep he took, 
For he slept till it was noon ; 


And his lady cam at day, left a taiken and away, 
Gaed as licht as a glint o' the moon. 20 

She strawed the roses on the ground, 

Threw her mantle on the brier, 
And the belt around her middle sae jimp, 

As a taiken that she'd been there. 

The rustling leaves flew round his head, ai 

And rous'd him frae his dream ; 
He saw by the roses, and mantle sae green, 

That his love had been there and was gane. 

" O whare was ye, my gude grey steed, 

That I coft ye sae dear ; ao 

That ye didna waken your master, 

Whan ye ken'd that his love was here." 

u I pautit wi' my foot, master, 
Garr'd a' my bridles ring ; 
And still I cried, "Waken, gude master, as 

For now is the hour and time." 

" Then whare was ye, my bonnie grey hound, 

That I coft ye sae dear, 
That ye didna waken your master, 

Whan ye kend that his love was here." -w 

" I pautit wi' my foot, master, 
Garr'd a' my bells to ring ; 


And still I cried, "Waken, gude master, 
For now is the hour and time." 

" But whare was ye, my hawks, my hawks, 

That I coft- ye sae dear, 
That ye didna waken your master, 

Whan ye ken'd that his love was here." 

" O wyte na me, now, my master dear, 

I garr'd a' my young hawks sing, M 

And still I cried, Waken, gude master, 
For now is the hour and time." 

" Then be it sae, my wager gane ! 
'T wiU skaith frae meikle ill ; 
For gif I had found her in bonnie broom-fields, 55 
0' her heart's blude ye'd drunken your fill." 

The stanzas below are from an American version of this 
ballad called The Green Broom/fieM, printed in a cheap song- 
book. (Graham's Illustrated Magazine, Sept. 1858.) 

" Then when she went to the green broom field, 

Where her love was fast asleep, 
With a gray ^oose-hawk and a green laurel bough, 

And a green broom under his feet. 

" And when he awoke from out his sleep, 

An angry man was he ; 
He looked to the East, and he looked to the West, 

And he wept for his sweetheart to see. 

" Oh ! where was you, my gray ^oose-hawk, 

The hawk that I loved so dear, 
That you did not awake me from out my sleep, 

When my sweetheart was so near! " 


This ballad was first printed in the Border Min 
strelsy, (vol. iii. p. 230,) " chiefly from Mrs. Brown's 
MS. with corrections from a recited fragment." Moth- 
erwell furnishes a different version, from recitation, 
(Minstrelsy, p. 374,) which is subjoined to the present, 
and the well-known ditty of the Laidley Worm of 
Spindleston-Heugh, upon the same theme, will be 
found in the Appendix to this volume. 

u Such transformations as the song narrates," re 
marks Sir Walter Scott, " are common in the annals 
of chivalry. In the 25th and 26th cantos of the second 
book of the Orlando Inamorato, the Paladin, Brandi- 
marte, after surmounting many obstacles, penetrates 
into the recesses of an enchanted palace. Here he 
finds a fair damsel, seated upon a tomb, who announces 
to him, that, in order to achieve her deliverance, he 
must raise the lid of the sepulchre, and kiss whatever 
being should issue forth. The knight, having pledged 
his faith, proceeds to open the tomb, out of which a 
monstrous snake issues forth, with a tremendous hiss. 
Brandimarte, with much reluctance, fulfils the bizarre 
conditions of the adventure ; and the monster is in 
stantly changed into a beautiful Fairy, who loads her 
deliverer with benefits." 


Jomfruen i Ormeham, in Grundtvig's DanmarJcs 
Gamle Folkeviser, ii. 17 7, is essentially the same ballad 
as Kempion. The characteristic incident of the story 
(a maiden who has been transformed by her step-mother 
into a snake or other monster, being restored to her 
proper shape by the kiss of a knight) is as common in 
the popular fiction of the North as Scott asserts it to 
be in chivalrous romance. For instances, see Grundt- 
vig, 1. 1., and under the closely related Lindormen, ii. 

The name Kempion is itself a monument of the re 
lation of our ballads to the Kcempeviser. Pollard of 
Pollard Hall, who slew " a venomous serpent which 
did much harm to man and beast," is called in the 
modern legend a Champion Knight. 

" CUM heir, cum heir, ye freely feed, 

And lay your head low on my knee ; 
The heaviest weird I will you read, 
That ever was read to gay ladye. 

" O meikle dolour sail ye dree, 5 

And aye the salt seas o'er ye'se swim ; 
And far mair dolour sail ye dree 

On Estmere crags, when ye them climb. 

8. If by Estmere Crags we are to understand the rocky 


" I weird ye to a fiery beast, 

And relieved sail ye never be, 10 

Till Kempion, the kingis son, 

Cum to the crag, and thrice kiss thee." 

O meikle dolour did she dree, 

And aye the salt seas o'er she swam ; 

And far mair dolour did she dree w 

On Estmere crags, when she them clamb. 

And aye she cried for Kempion, 

Gin he would but come to her hand : 

Now word has gane to Kempion, 

That sicken a beast was in his land. ao 

" Now, by my sooth," said Kempion, 
" This fiery beast I'll gang and see." 

" And by my sooth," said Segramour, 
" My ae brother, I'll gang wi' thee." 

Then bigged hae they a bonny boat, 2 

And they hae set her to the sea ; 

But a mile before they reach'd the shore, 
Around them she gar'd the red fire flee. 

cliffs of Northumberland, in opposition to Westmoreland, we 
may bring our scene of action near Bamborough, and thereby 
almost identify the tale of Kempion with that of the Laidley 
Worm of Spindleston, to which it bears so strong a resem 
blance. SCOTT. But why should we seek to do this ? 


" Segramour, keep the boat afloat, 

And let her na the land o'er near ; so 

For this wicked beast will sure gae mad, 
And set fire to a' the land and mair." 

Syne has he bent an arblast bow, 
And aim'd an arrow at her head ; 

And swore if she didna quit the land, 35 
Wi' that same shaft to shoot her dead. 

" O out of my stythe I winna rise, 

(And it is not for the awe o' thee,) 
Till Kempion, the kingis son, 

Cum to the crag, and thrice kiss me." 4f> 

He has louted him o'er the dizzy crag, 
And gien the monster kisses ane ; 

Awa she gaed, and again she cam. 
The fieryest beast that ever was seen. 

" out o' my stythe I winna rise, 

(And not for a' thy bow nor thee,) 
Till Kempion, the kingis son, * 

Cum to the crag, and thrice kiss me." 

He's louted him o'er the Estmere crags, 
And he has gi'en her kisses twa : so 

Awa she gaed, and again she cam, 
The fieryest beast that ever you saw. 


" O out of my den I winna rise, 

Nor flee it for the fear o' thee, 
Till Kempion, that courteous knight, 

Cum to the crag, and thrice kiss me." 

He's louted him o'er the lofty crag, 
And he has gi'en her kisses three : 

Awa she gaed, and again she cam, 

The loveliest ladye e'er could be ! eo 

" And by my sooth," says Kempion, 
" My ain true love, (for this is she,) 
They surely had a heart o' stane, 
Could put thee to such misery. 

" O was it warwolf in the wood ? & 

Or was it mermaid in the sea ? 
Or was it man or vile woman, 

My ain true love, that mis-shaped thee ? " 

" It wasna warwolf in the wood, 

Nor was it mermaid in the sea : TO 

But it was my wicked step-mother, 
And wae and weary may she be ! " 

" O, a heavier weird shall light her on, 
Than ever fell on vile woman ; 
Her hair shall grow rough, and her teeth 

grow lang, " 

And on her four feet shall she gang. 


" None shall take pity her upon ; 
In Wormeswood she aye shall won ; 
And relieved shall she never be, 
Till St. Mungo come over the sea." 
And sighing said that weary wight, 
" I doubt that day I'll never see ! " 


Kemp Owyne, says Motherwell, " was, no doubt, the 
same Ewein or Owain, ap Urien the king of Reged, 
who is celebrated by the bards, Taliessin and Llywarch- 
Hen, as well as in the Welsh historical Triads. In a 
poem of Gruffyd Llwyd, A. D. 1400, addressed to 
Owain Glyndwr, is the following allusion to this war 
rior. ' Thou hast travelled by land and by sea in the 
conduct of thine affairs, like Owain ap Urien in days 
of yore, when with activity he encountered the black 
knight of the water.'* His mistress had a ring esteemed 
one of the thirteen rarities of Britain, which, (like the 
wondrous ring of Gyges) would render the wearer 
invisible." Minstrelsy, p. Ixxxiii. 

The copy of Kemp Owyne printed in Buchan's 
Ancient Ballads, (ii. 78,) is the same as the following. 

HER mother died when she was young, 

Which gave her cause to make great moan ; 

* " On sea, on land, them still didst brave 
The dangerous cliff and rapid wave ; 
Like Urien, who subdued the knight, 
And the fell dragon put to flight, 
Yon moss-grown fount beside ; 
The grim, black warrior of the flood, 
The dragon,gorged with human blood, 
The waters' scaly pride." 

Jones's Welsh Bards, i. 41. 


Her father married the warst woman 
That ever lived in Christendom. 

She served her with foot and hand, 
In every thing that she could dee ; 

Till once, in an unlucky time, 

She threw her in ower Craigy's sea. 

Says, " Lie you there, dove Isabel, 
And all my sorrows lie with thee ; 

Till Kemp Owyne come ower the sea, 
And borrow you with kisses three, 

Let all the warld do what they will, 
Oh borrowed shall you never be." 

Her breath grew strang, her hair grew lang, 
And twisted thrice about the tree, 

And all the people, far and near, 

Thought that a savage beast was she ; 

This news did come to Kemp Owyne, 
Where he lived far beyond the sea. 

He hasted him to Craigy's sea, 

And on the savage beast look'd he ; 

Her breath was strang, her hair was lang, 
And twisted was about the tree, 

And with a swing she came about : 
" Come to Craigy's sea, and kiss with me. 

" Here is a royal belt," she cried, 

" That I have found in the green sea ; 


And while your body it is on, 

Drawn shall your blood never be ; so 

But if you touch me, tail or fin, 

I vow my belt your death shall be." 

He stepped in, gave her a kiss, 

The royal belt he brought him wi' ; 

Her breath was strang, her hair was lang, 35 
And twisted twice about the tree, 

And with a swing she came about : 
" Come to Craigy's sea, and kiss with me. 

" Here is a royal ring," she said, 

" That I have found in the green sea ; 40 

And while your finger it is on, 

Drawn shall your blood never be ; 
But if you touch me, tail or fin, 

I swear my ring your death shall be." 

He stepped in, gave her a kiss, 

The royal ring he brought him wi' ; 
Her breath was strang, her hair was lang, 

And twisted ance around the tree, 
And with a swing she came about : 
" Come to Craigy's sea, and kiss with me. 

" Here is a royal brand," she said, 

" That I have found in the green sea ; 
And while your body it is on, 

Drawn shall your blood never be ; 

VOL. I. 10 


But if you touch me, tail or fin, 

I swear my brand your death shall be." 

He stepped in, gave her a kiss, 

The royal brand he brought him wi' ; 

Her breath was sweet, her hair grew short, 
And twisted nane about the tree ; 

And smilingly she came about, 
As fair a woman as fair could be. 


A modernized copy of King Henry was published 
in the Tales of Wonder, (No 57,) under the title of 
Courteous King Jamie. It first appeared in an ancient 
dress in the Border Minstrelsy, (iii. 274,) but a version 
preferable in some respects was given by Jamieson in 
his Popular Ballads, (ii. 194,) which is here printed, 
without the editor's interpolations. For a notice of 
similar legends, see the Marriage of Sir Gawaine, at 
page 28 of this volume. 

Lat never a man a wooing wend, 

That lacketh thingis three ; 
A routh o' gould, an open heart. 

Ay fu' o' charity. 

As this I speak of King Henry, 5 

For he lay burd-alane ; 
And he's doen him to a jelly hunt's ha', 

Was far frae ony town. 

He chas'd the deer now him before, 

And the roe down by the den, 10 

TiU the fattest buck in a' the flock 
King Henry he has slain. 


he has doen him to his ha', 

To mak him bierly cheer ; 
And in it cam a grisly ghost, 

Staed stappin' i' the fleer. 

Her head hat the roof-tree o' the house, 
Her middle ye mat weel span ; 

He's thrown to her his gay mantle ; 
Says, " Ladie, hap your lingcan." 

Her teeth was a' like teather stakes, 
Her nose like club or mell ; 

And I ken nae thing she 'pear'd to be, 
But the fiend that wons in hell. 

" Some meat, some meat, ye King Henry ; 

Some meat ye gie to me." 
" And what meat's in this house, Ladie ? 

And what ha'e I to gi'e ? " 
" Its ye do kill your berry-brown steed, 

And ye bring him here to me." 

O whan he slew his berry-brown steed, 
Wow but his heart was sair ! 

She ate him a' up, flesh and bane, 
Left naething but hide and hair. 

" Mair meat, mair meat, ye King Henry, 

Mair meat ye bring to me." 
" And what meat's in this house, Ladie ? 


And what hae I to gi'e ? " 
" O ye do kill your good grey hounds, 

And ye bring them in to me." <o 

O whan he killed his good grey hounds, 

Wow but his heart was sair ! 
She ate them a' up, flesh and bane, 

Left naething but hide and hair. 

" Mair meat, mair meat, ye King Henry, 

Mair meat ye bring to me." 
" And what meat's in this house, Ladie ? 

And what hae I to gi'e ? " 
" O ye do kill your gay goss hawks, 

And ye bring them here to me." so 

O whan he kill'd his gay goss hawks, 

Wow but his heart was sair ! 
She ate them a' up, skin and bane, 

Left naething but feathers bare. 

*' Some drink, some drink, now, King Henry ; w 

Some drink ye bring to me." 
" O what drink's in this house, Ladie, 

That ye're nae welcome tee ? " 
" O ye sew up your horse's hide, 

And bring in a drink to me." eo 

And he's sew'd up the bloody hide, 
A puncheon o' wine put in ; 


She drank it a' up at a waught, 
Left na ae drap ahin'. 

" A bed, a bed, now, King Henry, ec 

A bed ye mak to me ; 
For ye maun pu' the heather green, 
And mak a bed to me." 

And pu'd has he the heather green, 

And made to her a bed ; 70 

And up he's ta'en his gay mantle, 
And o'er it has he spread. 

" Tak aff your claiths, now, King Henry, 

And lye down by my side ; " 
" O God forbid," says King Henry, n 

" That ever the like betide ; 
That ever the fiend that wons in hell, 
Should streek down by my side." 

Whan nicht was gane, and day was come, 
And the sun shone thro' the ha', 

The fairest lady that ever was seen 
Lay atween him and the wa'. 

" O weel is me ! " says King Henry ; 
" How lang'll this last wi' me ? " 
Then out it spake that fair lady, 
" E'en till the day you die. 


*' For I've met wi' mony a gentle kniclit, 

That gae me sic a fill ; 
But never before wi' a curteis knicht, 
That gae me a' my will." 


(Border Minstrelsy, iii. 263.) 

This ballad, which is still very popular, is known 
under various other names, as Bothwell, Child Brenton, 
Lord Dingwall, We were Sisters, we were Seven, &c. 
Scott's version was derived principally from recitation, 
but some of the concluding stanzas were taken from 
Herd's. Herd's copy, which must be regarded as a 
fragment, is given in connection with the present, and 
Buchan's in the Appendix to this volume. Another 
edition, of a suspicious character, may be seen in Cro- 
mek's Remains of NitJisdale and Galloway Song, 
(p. 205.) All the principal incidents of the story are 
found in Ingefred og Gudrune, Danske Viser, No. 194, 
translated by Jamieson, Illustrations, p. 340. More or 
less imperfect versions of the same are Riddar Olle, 
Svenska Folk-Visor, ii. p. 217, 59, 56, 215, and Herr 
Aster och Froken Sissa, p. 50. The substitution of the 
maid-servant for the bride, occurs also in Torkild Trun- 
deson, Danske V., No. 200, or Thorkil Troneson, Ar- 
widsson, No. 36. This idea was perhaps derived from 
Tristan and Isold: see Scott's Sir Tristrem, II. 54, 55. 

COSPATRICK has sent o'er the faem ; 
Cospatrick brought his ladye hame ; 
And fourscore ships have come her wi', 
The ladye by the grene-wood tree. 

There were twaT and twaP wi' baken bread, 
And twaT and twal' wi' gowd sae reid, 
And twal' and twal' wi' bouted flour, 
And twal' and twal' wi' the paramour. 


Sweet Willy was a widow's son, 

And at her stirrup he did run ; 10 

And she was clad in the finest pall, 

But aye she let the tears down fall. 

" O is your saddle set awrye ? 
Or rides your steed for you ower high ? 
Or are you mourning, in your tide, w 

That you suld be Cospatrick's bride ? " 

" I am not mourning, at this tide, 
That I suld be Cospatrick's bride ; 
But I am sorrowing in my mood, 
That I suld leave my mother good. 20 

" But, gentle boy, come tell to me, 

What is the custom of thy countrie ? " 
" The custom thereof, my dame," he says, 
" Will ill a gentle laydye please. 

" Seven king's daughters has our lord wedded, 25 
And seven king's daughters has our lord 

bedded ; 

But he's cutted their breasts frae their breast- 
And sent them mourning hame again. 

" Yet, gin you're sure that you're a maid, 
Ye may gae safely to his bed ; ao 


But gif o' that ye be na sure, 

Then hire some damsell o' your bour." 

The ladye's call'd her bour maiden, 
That waiting was into her train ; 
" Five thousand merks I'll gie to thee, ss 

To sleep this night with my lord for me." 

When bells were rung, and mass was sayne, 
And a' men unto bed were gane, 
Cospatrick and the bonny maid, 
Into a chamber they were laid. 40 

" Now, speak to me, blankets, and speak to me, 


And speak, thou sheet, enchanted web ; 
And speak up, my bonny brown sword, that 

winna lie, 
Is this a true maiden that lies by me ? " 

" It is not a maid that you hae wedded, 

But it is a maid that you hae bedded ; 
It is a leal maiden that lies by thee, 
But not the maiden that it should be." 

O wrathfully he left the bed, 

And wrathfully his claes on did ; GO 

And he has ta'en him through the ha', 

And on his mother he did ca.' 


" I am the most unhappy man, 
That ever was in Christen land ! 
I courted a maiden, meik and mild, 

And I hae gotten naething but a woman wi' 

" O stay, my son, into this ha', 
And sport ye wi' your merrymen a' ; 
And I will to the secret bour, 
To see how it fares wi' your paramour." > 

The carline she was stark and sture, 
She aff the hinges dang the dure ; 
" O is your bairn to laird or loun, 
Or is it to your father's groom ? " 

" O hear me, mother, on my knee, B 

Till my sad story I tell to thee : 
O we were sisters, sisters seven, 
We were the fairest under heaven. 

" It fell on a summer's afternoon, 
When a' our toilsome task was done, ro 

We cast the kevils us amang, 
To see which suld to the grene-wood gang. 

" Ohon ! alas, for I was youngest, 
And aye my wierd it was the hardest ! 
The kevil it on me did fa', "> 

Whilk was the cause of a' my woe. 


" For to the grene-wood I maun gae, 
To pu' the red rose and the slae ; 
To pu' the red rose and the thyme, 
To deck my mother's bour and mine. 

" I hadna pu'd a flower but ane, 
When by there came a gallant hende, 
Wi' high-coll'd hose and laigh-coll'd shoon, 
And he seem'd to be sum kingis son. 

" And be I a maid, or be I nae, 
He kept me there till the close o' day ; 
And be I a maid, or be I nane, 
He kept me there till the day was done. 

" He gae me a lock o' his yellow hair, 
And bade me keep it ever mair ; 
He gae me a carknet o' bonny beads, 
And bade me keep it against my needs. 

" He gae to me a gay gold ring, 
And bade me keep it abune a' thing." 

" What did ye wi' the tokens rare, 
That ye gat frae that gallant there ? " 

" O bring that coffer unto me, 
And a' the tokens ye sail see." 

" Now stay, daughter, your bour within, 
While I gae parley wi' my son." 


she has ta'en her thro' the ha', 
And on her son began to ca' ; 

" What did ye wi' the bonny beads 

1 bade you keep against your needs ? 

u What did you wi' the gay gold ring ice 

I bade you keep abune a' thing ? " 

" I gae them to a ladye gay, 
I met on grene-wood on a day. 

" But I wad gie a' my halls and tours, 
I had that ladye within my bours ; uo 

But I wad gie my very life, 
I had that ladye to my wife." 

" Now keep, my son, your ha's and tours, 
Ye have the bright burd in your bours ; 
And keep, my son, your very life, n& 

Ye have that ladye to your wife." 

Now, or a month was come and gane, 

The ladye bare a bonny son ; 

And 'twas weel written on his breast-bane, 
" Cospatrick is my father's name." 120 

" O row my lady in satin and silk, 

And wash my son in the morning milk." 

120. Cospatrick, Comes Patricius, was the designation of 
the Earl of Dunbar, in the days of Wallace and Bruce. 


From Herd's Scottish Sonffs, (L 143.) 

As Bothwell was walking in the lowlands alane, 

Hey down, and a down, 
He met six ladies sae gallant and fine, 

Hey down, and a down. 

He cast his lot amang them a', & 

And on the youngest his lot did fa'. 

He's brought her frae her mother's bower, 
Unto his strongest castle and tower. 

But ay she cry'd and made great moan, 

And ay the tear came trickling down. 10 

" Come up, come up," said the foremost man, 
" I think our bride comes slowly on." 

" O lady, sits your saddle awry, 
Or is your steed for you owre high ? " 

" My saddle is not set awry, w 

Nor carries me my steed owre high ; 


" But I am weary of my life, 
Since I maun be Lord Bothwell's wife." 

He's bkwn his horn sae sharp and shrill, 

Up start the deer on every hill ; 20 

He's blawn his horn sae lang and loud, 
Up start the deer in gude green wood. 

His lady mother lookit owre the castle wa', 
And she saw them riding ane and a'. 

She's called upon her maids by seven, 25 

To mak his bed baith saft and even: 

She's called upon her cooks by nine, 
To make their dinner fab* and fine. 

When day was gane and night was come, 
" What ails my love on me to frown ? so 

" Or does the wind blow in your glove, 
Or runs your mind on another love ? " 

" Nor blows the wind within my glove, 
Nor runs my mind on another love ; " 

;i But I not maid nor maiden am, es 

For I'm wi' bairn to another man." 


" I thought I'd a maiden sae meek and sae mild, 
But I've nought but a woman wi' child." 

His mother's taen her up to a tower, 

And lockit her in her secret bower : o 

t' Now doughter mine, come tell to me, 
Wha's bairn this is that you are wi'." 

" O mother dear, I canna learn 
"Wha is the father of my bairn. 

" But as I walk'd in the lowlands my lane, 45 
I met a gentleman gallant and fine ; 

" He keepit me there sae late and sae lang, 
Frae the ev'ning late till the morning dawn ; 

" And a' that he gied me to my propine, 49 

Was a pair of green gloves, and a gay gold ring, 

" Three lauchters of his yellow hair, 
In case that we shou'd meet nae mair." 

His lady mother went down the stair : 
" Now son, now son, come tell to me, 
Where's the green gloves I gave to thee ? " ss 

" I gied to a lady sae fair and so fine, 
The green gloves and a gay gold ring : 


" But I wad gie my castles and towers, 
I had that lady within my bowers : 

" But I wad gie my very life, eo 

I had that lady to be my wife." 

" Now keep, now keep your castles and towers, 
You have that lady within your bowers : 

" Now keep, now keep your very life, 
You have that lady to be your wife." t 

" O row my lady in sattin and silk, 
And wash my son in the morning milk." 



PRINTED from Mrs. Brown's MS., in the Border 
Minstrelsy, vol. iii. p. 170. Another copy is given in 
Jamieson's Popular Ballads, (ii. 367,) and versions, 
enlarged and altered from the ancient, in the same 
work, (ii. 179,) and in Tales of Wonder, No. 56. 
This ballad bears a striking resemblance to Sir Stig 
and Lady Torelild, translated from the Danish by 
Jamieson, Illustrations of Northern Antiquities, p. 344. 
This is the eighth (marked H) of nine Danish ballads 
given by Grundtvig, under the title Hustru og Mands 
Moder, vol. ii. 404. Three Swedish versions have 
been printed : two in Arwidsson's Fornsdnger, Liten 
Kerstins F6rtrollning,\\. 252, and another (Grundtvig) 
in Cavallius and Stephens's Svenska Folksagor. 

" Those who wish to know how an incantation, or 
charm, of the distressing nature here described, was 
performed in classic days, may consult the story of 
Galanthis's Metamorphosis, in Ovid, or the following 
passage in Apuleius : ' Eadem (saga, scilicet, quaedam) 
amatoris uxorem, quod in earn dicacule probrum dix- 
erat, jam in sarcinam prsegnationis, obsepto utero, et 
repigrato foetu, perpetua praegnatione damnavit. Et 
ut cuncti numerant, octo annorum onere, misella ilia, 
velut elephantum paritura, distenditur.' APUL. Me- 
tarn. lib. i. 

" There is a curious tale about a Count of Wester- 
avia, whom a deserted concubine bewitched upon his 
marriage, so as to preclude all hopes of his becoming 
a father. The spell continued to operate for three 
years, till one day, the Count happening to meet with 


his former mistress, she maliciously asked him about 
the increase of his family. The Count, conceiving 
some suspicion from her manner, craftily answered, 
that God had blessed him with three fine children ; on 
which she exclaimed, like Willie's mother in the ballad, 
" May heaven confound the old hag, by whose counsel 
I threw an enchanted pitcher into the draw-well of 
your palace ! " The spell being found, and destroyed, 
the Count became the father of a numerous family. 
Hierarchic of the Blessed Angels, p. 474." SCOTT. 

WILLIE'S ta'en him o'er the faem, 
He's wooed a wife, and brought her hame ; 
He's wooed her for her yellow hair, 
But his mother wrought her meikle care ; 

And meikle dolour gar'd her dree, 

For lighter she can never be ; 
But in her bower she sits wi' pain, 
And Willie mourns o'er her in vain. 

And to his mother lie has gane, 

That vile rank witch, o' vilest kind ! 10 

He says " My ladie has a cup, 

Wi' gowd and silver set about ; 

This gudely gift sail be your ain, 

And let her be lighter o' her young bairn." 

" Of her young bairn she's never be lighter, 15 
Nor in her bour to shine the brighter : 
But she sail die, and turn to clay, 
And you sail wed another may." 


" Another may I'll never wed, 
Another may I'll never bring hame : " 
But, sighing, said that weary \tight 

" I wish my life were at an end ! 

" Yet gae ye to your mother again, 
That vile rank witch, o' vilest kind ! 
And say, your ladye has a steed, 
The like o' him's no in the land o' Leed. 

" For he is silver shod before, 
And he is gowden shod behind ; 
At every tuft of that horse mane, 
There's a golden chess, and a bell to ring. 
This gudely gift sail be her ain, 
And let me be lighter o' my young bairn." 

" Of her young bairn she's ne'er be lighter, 
Nor in her bour to shine the brighter ; 
But she sail die, and turn to clay, 
And ye sail wed another may." 

" Another may I'll never wed, 
Another may I'll never bring hame : " 
But, sighing, said that weary wight 

" I wish my life were at an end ! 

" Yet gae ye to your mother again, 
That vile rank witch, o' rankest kind ! 
And say your ladye has a girdle, 
It's a' red gowd to the middle ; 


" And aye, at ilka siller hem 45 

Hang fifty siller bells and ten ; 
This gudely gift sail be her ain, 
And let me be lighter o' my young bairn." 

" Of her young bairn she's ne'er be lighter, 
Nor in your bour to shine the brighter ; ^ 

For she sail die, and turn to clay. 
And thou sail wed another may." 

" Another may I'll never wed, 
Another may I'll never bring hame : " 
But, sighing, said that weary wight 

" I wish my days were at an end ! " 

Then out and spak the Billy Blind, 
(He spak aye in good tune :) 
" Yet gae ye to the market-place, 
And there do buy a loaf of wace ; eo 

Do shape it bairn and bairnly like, 
And in it twa glassen een you'll put ; 

" And bid her your boy's christening to, 
Then notice weel what she shall do ; 
And do you stand a little away, 

To notice weel what she may say." 

67. Bitty BUndA. familiar genius, or propitious spirit, 
somewhat similar to the Brownie. 


He did him to the marketplace, 

And there he bought a loaf o' wax ; 

He shaped it bairn and bairnly like, 

And in twa glazen een he pat ; ro 

He did him till his mither then, 
And bade her to his boy's christnin ; 
And he did stand a little forbye, 
And noticed well what she did say. 

" wha has loosed the nine witch knots, n 

That were amang that ladye's locks ? 
And wha's ta'en out the kaims o' care, 
That were amang that ladye's hair ? 

" And wha has ta'en down that bush o' woodbine, 
That hung between her bour and mine ? so 
And wha has kill'd the master kid, 
That ran beneath that ladye's bed ? 
And wha has loosed her left foot shee, 
And let that ladye lighter be ? " 

Syne, Willy's loosed the nine witch knots, ss 
That were amang that ladye's locks ; 
And Willie's ta'en out the kaims o' care, 
That were into that ladye's hair ; 

67-74. Inserted from Jamieson's copy. 68. Zeq/", Jamieson. 
81. The witch's chief familiar, placed in the chamber of 
the sick woman in the form of a kid. 


And he's ta'en down the bush o' woodbine, 
Hung atween her bour and the witch carline ; 90 
And he has kill'd the master kid, 
That ran beneath that ladye's bed ; 

And he has loosed her left foot shee, 

And latten that ladye lighter be ; 

And now he has gotten a bonny son, M 

And meikle grace be him upon. 


Jamieson's Popular Ballads, ii. 187. 


The beginning is to be compared with Lindormen, 
the whole ballad with Jomfruen i Ormeham, Grundt- 
vig's Folkeviser, ii. 213, 177. 

ALISON GROSS, that lives in yon tower, 
The ugliest witch in the north countrie, 

Has trysted me ae day up till her bower, 
And mony fair speech she made to me. 

She straiked my head, and she kembed my hair, 
And she set me down saftly on her knee, e 

Says, Gi n ye will be my lemman sae true, 
Sae mony braw things as I would you gi'e." 

She shaw'd me a mantle o' red scarlet, 

Wi' gouden flowers and fringes fine, 10 

Says " Gin ye will be my lemman sae true, 
This goodly gift it sail be thine." 

" Awa, awa, ye ugly witch, 

Haud far awa, and lat me be ; 

1 never will be your lemman sae true, w 
And I wish I were out of your company." 


She neist brocht a sark o' the saftest silk, 
Weel wrought wi' pearls about the band ; 

Says, " Gin ye will be my ain true love, 
This goodly gift ye sail command." a> 

She shaw'd me a cup o' the good red goud, 
Weel set wi' jewels sae fair to see ; 

Says, " Gin ye will be my lemman sae true, 
This goodly gift I will you gie." 

" Awa, awa, ye ugly witch ! 25 

Haud far awa, and lat me be ; 
For I wadna ance kiss your ugly mouth 
For a' the gifts that ye cou'd gie." 

She's turned her richt and round about, 

And thrice she blew on a grass-green horn; so 

And she sware by the moon and the stars aboon, 
That she'd gar me rue the day I was born. 

Then out has she ta'en a silver wand, 

And she's turned her three times round and 

round ; 

She's mutter'd sic words, that my strength it 
fail'd, 35 

And I fell down senseless on the ground. 

She's turn'd me into an ugly worm, 
And gar'd me toddle about the tree ; 


And ay, on ilka Saturday's night, 

My sister Maisry came to me, <o 

Wi' silver bason, and silver kemb, 
To kemb my headie upon her knee ; 

But or I had kiss'd her ugly mouth, 
I'd rather hae toddled about the tree. 

But as it fell out on last Hallowe'en, 45 

When the Seely Court was ridin' by, 

The queen lighted down on a gowan bank, 
Nae far frae the tree whare I wont to lye. 

She took me up in her milk-white hand, 

And she straiked me three times o'er her 
knee ; go 

She changed me again to my ain proper shape, 
And I nae mair maun toddle about the tree. 

46. Seely Court, i. e. " pleasant or happy court," or " court 
of the pleasant and happy people." This agrees with the 
ancient and more legitimate idea of Fairies. JAMIESON. See 
p. 120, v. 131, et seq. 


From Buchan's Ancient Ballads and Songs of the North of 
Scotland, (i. 49.) 

It is much to be regretted that this piece has not 
come down to us in a purer and more ancient form. 
Similar ballads are found in Danish, Swedish, and 
Faroish. Several forms of the Danish are given by 
Grundtvig (Rldderen i Fugleham, No. 68), who also 
cites many popular tales which have the same basis, 
e. g. the Countess d'Aulnoy's fairy story of The Blue 

IT was intill a pleasant time, 

Upon a simmer's day ; 
The noble Earl of Mar's daughter 

Went forth to sport and play. 

As thus she did amuse hersell, 5 

Below a green aik tree, 
There she saw a sprightly doo 

Set on a tower sae hie. 

" O Cow-me-doo, my love sae true, 

If ye'll come down to me, 
Ye'se hae a cage o' guid red gowd 
Instead o' simple tree : 

" I'll put gowd hingers roun' your cage, 

And siller roun' your wa' ; 
I'll gar ye shine as fair a bird 
As ony o' them a'." 


But she had nae these words well spoke, 
Nor yet these words well said, 

Till Cow-me-doo flew frae the tower, 

And lighted on her head. ao 

Then she has brought this pretty bird 
Hame to her bowers and ha' ; 

And made him shine as fair a bird 
As ony o' them a'. 

When day was gane, and night was come, ^ 

About the evening tide, 
This lady spied a sprightly youth 

Stand straight up by her side. 

" From whence came ye, young man ? " she 


" That does surprise me sair ; so 

My door was bolted right secure ; 
What way ha'e ye come here ? " 

" O had your tongue, ye lady fair, 

Lat a' your folly be ; 

Mind ye not on your turtle doo so 

Last day ye brought wi' thee ? " 

" O tell me mair, young man," she said, 
" This does surprise me now ; 
WTiat country ha'e ye come frae ? 

What pedigree are you ? " 40 


" My mither lives on foreign isles, 

She has nae mair but me ; 
She is a queen o' wealth and state, 
And birth and high degree ; 

" Likewise well skill'd in magic spells, 

As ye may plainly see ; 
And she transform'd me to yon shape, 
To charm such maids as thee. 

" I am a doo the live lang day, 

A sprightly youth at night ; & 

This aye gars me appear mair fair 
In a fair maiden's sight. 

" And it was but this verra day 
That I came ower the sea ; 
Your lovely face did me enchant, 55 

I'll live and dee wi' thee." 

" O Cow-me-doo, my luve sae true, 

Nae mair frae me ye'se gae." 
" That's never my intent, my luve, 

As ye said, it shall be sae." a 

" O Cow-me-doo, my luve sae true, 

It's time to gae to bed." 
" Wi' a' my heart, my dear marrow, 

It's be as ye ha'e said." 


Then he has staid in bower wi' her 
For sax lang years and ane, 

Till sax young sons to him she bare, 
And the seventh she's brought hame. 

But aye as ever a child was born, 

He carried them away, 
And brought them to his mither's care, 

As fast as he cou'd fly. 

Thus he has staid in bower wi' her 
For twenty years and three ; 

There came a lord o' high renown 
To court this fair ladie. 

But still his proffer she refused, 

And a' his presents too ; 
Says, " I'm content to live alane 

Wi' my bird, Cow-me-doo." 

Her father sware a solemn oath 

Amang the nobles all, 
" The morn, or ere I eat or drink, 
This bird I will gar kill." 

The bird was sitting in his cage, 
And heard what they did say ; 

And when he found they were dismist, 
Says, " Waes me for this day ! 


" Before that I do langer stay, 

And thus to be forlorn, w 

I'll gang unto my mither's bower, 
Where I was bred and born." 

Then Cow-me-doo took flight and flew 

Beyond the raging sea ; 
And lighted near his mither's castle ^ 

On a tower o' gowd sae hie. 

As his mither was wauking out, 

To see what she coud see, 
And there she saw her little son 

Set on the tower sae hie. 100 

" Get dancers here to dance," she said, 
" And minstrells for to play ; 
For here's my young son, Florentine, 
Come here wi' me to stay." 

" Get nae dancers to dance, mither, ion 

Nor minstrells for to play ; 
For the mither o' my seven sons, 
The morn's her wedding-day." 

" O tell me, tell me, Florentine, 

Tell me, and tell me true, 110 

Tell me this day without a flaw, 
What I will do for you." 


" Instead of dancers to dance, mither, 

Or minstrells for to play, 
Turn four-and-twenty wall-wight men, u* 
Like storks, in feathers gray ; 

" My seven sons in seven swans, 

Aboon their heads to flee ; 
And I, mysell, a gay gos-hawk, 

A bird o' high degree." uo 

Then sichin' said the queen hersell, 

" That thing's too high for me ;" 

But she applied to an auld woman, 

Who had mair skill than she. 

Instead o' dancers to dance a dance, i^ 

Or minstrells for to play, 
Four-and-twenty wall-wight men 

Turn'd birds o' feathers gray ; 

Her seven sons in seven swans, 

Aboon their heads to flee ; i* 

And he, himsell, a gay gos-hawk, 

A bird o' high degree. 

This flock o' birds took flight and flew 

Beyond the raging sea ; 
And landed near the Earl Mar's castle, 135 

Took shelter in every tree. 


They were a flock o' pretty birds, 

Right comely to be seen ; 
The people view'd them wi' surprise, 

As they danc'd on the green. i 

These birds ascended frae the tree, 

And lighted on the ha' ; 
And at the last wi' force did flee 

Amang the nobles a'. 

The storks there seized some o' the men, 145 
They cou'd neither fight nor flee ; 

The swans they bound the bride's best man, 
Below a green aik tree. 

They lighted next on maidens fair, 

Then on the bride's own head ; isc 

And wi' the twinkling o' an e'e, 
The bride and them were fled. 

There's ancient men at weddings been, 

For sixty years or more ; 
But sic a curious wedding-day ^ 

They never saw before. 

For naething cou'd the companie do, 

Nor naething cou'd they say ; 
But they saw a flock o' pretty birds 

That took their bride away. ieo 

VOL. I. 12 


When that Earl Mar he came to know 
Where his dochter did stay, 

He sign'd a bond o' unity, 
And visits now they pay. 


Mr. Kinioch printed a fragment of this ballad under 
the title of Hynde Etin. (See Appendix.) The story 
was afterwards given complete by Buchan, (Ballads 
of the North of Scotland, i. 6,) as here follows. Bu 
chan had previously communicated to Motherwell a 
modernized version of the same tale, in which the Etin 
is changed to a Groom. (See post.} 

This ancient ballad has suffered severely in the 
course of its transmission to our times. Still there 
can be no doubt that it was originally the same as The 
Maid and the Dwarf King, which is still sung in Den 
mark, Norway, Sweden, and the Faroe Islands. Nu 
merous copies of the Scandinavian ballad have been 
given to the world : seven Danish versions, more or 
less complete, four Norse, nine Swedish, one Faroish, 
and some other fragments (Grundtvig, ii. 37, and note, 
p. 655). One of the Swedish ballads (Bergkonungen, 
Afzelius, No. 35) is translated in Keightley's Fairy 
Mythology, 103, under the title of Proud Margaret. 
Closely related is Agnete og Hamnanden, Grundtvig, 
ii. 48, 656, which is found in several forms in German 
(e. g. Die schone Hannele in Hoffmann von Fallersle- 
ben's Schlesische Volkslieder, No. 1), and two in Slavic. 

LADY MARGARET sits in her bower door, 

Sewing at her silken seam ; 
She heard a note in Elmond's-wood, 

And wish'd she there had been. 

She loot the seam fa' frae her side, 

And the needle to her tae ; 
And she is on to Elmond-wood 

As fast as she coud gae. 


She hadna pu'd a nut, a nut, 
Nor broken a branch but ane, 

Till by it came a young hind chiel, 
Says, " Lady, lat alane. 

" O why pu' ye the nut, the nut, 
Or why brake ye the tree ? 
For I am forester o' this wood : 
Ye shou'd spier leave at me." 

''I'll ask leave at no living man, 

Nor yet will I at thee ; 
My father is king o'er a' this realm, 
This wood belongs to me." 

She hadna pu'd a nut, a nut, 
Nor broken a branch but three, 

Till by it came him Young Akin, 
And gar'd her lat them be. 

The highest tree in Elmond's-wood, 

He's pu'd it by the reet ; 
And he has built for her a bower 

Near by a hallow seat. 

He's built a bower, made it secure 

Wi' carbuncle and stane ; 
Tho' travellers were never sae nigh, 

Appearance it had nane. 


He's kept her there in Elmond's-wood, 

For six lang years and one ; 
Till six pretty sons to him she bear, ae 

And the seventh she's brought home. 

It fell ance upon a day, 

This guid lord went from home ; 

And he is to the hunting gane, 

Took wi' him his eldest son. 40 

And when they were on a guid way, 

Wi' slowly pace did walk, 
The boy's heart being something wae, 

He thus began to talk : 

" A question I wou'd ask, father, 

Gin ye wou'dna angry be ? " 
" Say on, say on, my bonny boy, 

Ye'se nae be quarrell'd by me." 

" I see my mither's cheeks aye weet, 

I never can see them dry ; so 

And I wonder what aileth my mither, 
To mourn continually." 

" Your mither was a king's daughter, 

Sprung frae a high degree ; 
And she might hae wed some worthy prince, M 
Had she nae been stown by me. 


" I was her father's cup-bearer, 

Just at that fatal time ; 
I catch'd her on a misty night, 
Whan summer was in prime. 

" My luve to her was most sincere, 

Her luve was great for me ; 
But when she hardships doth endure, 
Her folly she does see." 

" I'll shoot the buntin' o' the bush, 

The linnet o' the tree, 
And bring them to my dear mither, 
See if she'll merrier be." 

It fell upo' another day, 

This guid lord he thought lang, 

And he is to the hunting gane, 
Took wi' him his dog and gun. 

Wi' bow and arrow by his side, 

He's aff, single, alane ; 
And left his seven children to stay 

Wi' their mither at name. 

" O, I will tell to you, mither, 
Gin ye wadna angry be : " 

" Speak on, speak on, my little wee boy, 
Ye'se nae be quarrell'd by me." 


" As we came frae the hynd hunting, 

We heard fine music ring : " 
" My blessings on you, my bonny boy, 

I wish I'd been there my lane." 

He's ta'en his mither by the hand, M 

His six brithers also, 
And they are on thro' Elmond's-wood, 

As fast as they coud go. 

They wistna weel where they were gaen. 

Wi' the stratlins o' their feet ; so 

They wistna weel where they were gaen, 

Till at her father's yate. 

" I hae nae money in my pocket, 

But royal rings hae three ; 
I'll gie them you, my little young son, & 
And ye'll walk there for me. 

* Ye'll gi'e the first to the proud porter, 

And he will lat you in ; 
Ye'll gi'e the next to the butler boy, 

And he will show you ben ; 100 

97. The regular propitiation for the "proud porter" of 
ballad poetry. See, e. g., King Arthur and the King of Corn- 
watt, in the Appendix, v. 49 : also the note to King Estmere, 
vol. iii. p. 172. 


" Ye'll gi'e the third to the minstrel 

That plays before the king ; 
He'll play success to the bonny boy 
Came thro' the .wood him lane." 

He ga'e the first to the proud porter, 
And he open'd an' let him in ; 

He ga'e the next to the butler boy, 
And he has shown him ben ; 

He ga'e the third to the minstrel 
That play'd before the king ; 

And he play'd success to the bonny boy 
Came thro' the wood him lane. 

Now when he came before the king, 
Fell low down on his knee : 

The king he turned round about, 
And the saut tear blinded his ee. 

" Win up, win up, my bonny boy, 

Gang frae my companie ; 
Ye look sae like my dear daughter, 
My heart will birst in three." 

" If I look like your dear daughter, 

A wonder it is none ; 
If I look like your dear daughter, 
I am her eldest son." 


" Will ye tell me, ye little wee boy, 12* 

Where may my Margaret be ? " 
" She's just now standing at your yates, 

And my six brithers her wi'." 

" O where are all my porter boys 

That I pay meat and fee, iao 

To open my yates baith wide and braid ? 
Let her come in to me." 

When she came in before the king, 

Fell low down on her knee : 
" Win up, win up, my daughter dear, 135 

This day ye'll dine wi me." 

" Ae bit I canno' eat, father, 
Nor ae drop can I drink, 
Till I see my mither and sister dear, 

For lang for them I think." MO 

When she came before the queen, 

Fell low down on her knee : 

" Win up, win up, my daughter dear, 

This day ye'se dine wi' me." 

" Ae bit I canno' eat, mither, 145 

Nor ae drop can I drink, 
Until I see my dear sister, 
For lang for her I think." 


When that these two sisters met, 

She hail'd her courteouslie : IK 

" Come ben, come ben, my sister dear, 
This day ye'se dine wi' me." 

" Ae bit I canno' eat, sister, 

Nor ae drop can I drink, 
Until I see my dear husband, iss 

For lang for him I think." 

" O where are all my rangers bold 

That I pay meat and fee, 
To search the forest far an' wide, 

And bring Akin to me ? " leo 

Out it speaks the wee little boy, 
" Na, na, this maunna be ; 
Without ye grant a free pardon, 
I hope ye'll nae him see." 

" O here I grant a free pardon, m 

Well seal'd by my own han' ; 
Ye may make search for young Akin, 
As soon as ever you can." 

They search'd the country wide and braid, 
The forests far and near, iro 

And found him into Elmond's-wood, 
Tearing his yellow hair. 


" Win up, win up, now young Akin. 

Win up, and boun wi' me ; 
We're messengers come from the court ; 175 
The king wants you to see." 

" lat him take frae me my head, 

Or hang me on a tree ; 
For since I've lost my dear lady, 

Life's no pleasure to me." iso 

" Your head will nae be touch'd, Akin, 

Nor hang'd upon a tree : 
Your lady's in her father's court, 
And all he wants is thee." 

When he came in before the king, iss 

Fell low down on his knee : 

" Win up, win up now, young Akin, 

This day ye'se dine wi' me." 

But as they were at dinner set, 

The boy asked a boun ; ia> 

" I wish we were in the good church, 
For to get christendoun. 

" We ha'e lived in guid green wood 

This seven years and ane ; 
But a' this time since e'er I mind, iw 

Was never a church within." 


" Your asking 's nae sae great, my boy, 

But granted it shall be ; 
This day to guid church ye shall gang, 
And your mither shall gang you wi'." 

When unto the guid church she came, 

She at the door did stan' ; 
She was sae sair sunk down wi' shame, 

She coudna come farer ben. 

Then out it speaks the parish priest, 

And a sweet smile gae he ; 
" Come ben, come ben, my lily flower, 

Present your babes to me." 

Charles, Vincent, Sam, and Dick, 
And likewise James and John ; 

They call'd the eldest Young Akin, 
Which was his father's name. 

Then they staid in the royal court, 
And liv'd wi' mirth and glee ; 

And when her father was deceas'd, 
Heir of the crown was she. 


(Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 287.) 

" O WELL love I to ride in a mist, 
And shoot in a northern wind ; 
And far better a lady to steal, 
That 's come of a noble kind." 

Four-and-twenty fair ladies 5 

Put on that lady's sheen ; 
And as many young gentlemen 

Did lead her o'er the green. 

Yet she preferred before them all 

Him, young Hastings the Groom ; 10 

He 's coosten a mist before them all, 
And away this lady has ta'en. 

He 's taken the lady on him behind, 
Spared neither the grass nor corn, 

Till they came to the wood of Amonshaw, is 
Where again their loves were sworn. 


And they have lived in that wood 
Full many a year and day, 

And were supported from time to time, 
By what he made of prey. 

And seven bairns, fair and fine, 
There she has born to him, 

And never was in good church door, 
Nor never gat good kirking. 

Once she took harp into her hand, 
And harped them asleep ; 

Then she sat down at their couch side, 
And bitterly did weep. 

Said, " Seven bairns have I born now 

To my lord in the ha' ; 
I wish they were seven greedy rats, 

To run upon the wa', 
And I mysel' a great grey cat, 

To eat them ane an* a'. 

" For ten long years now I have lived 

Within this cave of stane, 
And never was at good church door, 
Nor got no good churching." 

O then outspak her eldest child, 
And a fine boy was he, 


" hold your tongue, my mother dear ; 
I'll tell you what to dee. 

" Take you the youngest in your lap, 
The next youngest by the hand ; 
Put all the rest of us you before, 

As you learnt us to gang. 

" And go with us into some good kirk, 

You say they are built of stane, 
And let us all be christened, 

And you get good kirking." so 

She took the youngest in her lap, 
The next youngest by the hand ; 

Set all the rest of them her before, 
As she learnt them to gang. 

And she has left the wood with them, 55 

And to a kirk has gane ; 
Where the good priest them christened, 

And gave her good kirking. 


This ballad exemplifies a superstition deeply rooted 
in the belief of all the northern nations, the desire of 
the Elves and Water-spirits for the love of Christians, 
and the danger of being exposed to their fascination. 
The object of their fatal passion is generally a bride 
groom, or a bride, on the eve of marriage. See, in the 
Appendix, Sir Olnf and the Elf-King's Daughter, for 
further illustrations ; also the two succeeding pieces. 

Clerk Colvill was first printed in Herd's Scottish 
Songs, (i. 217,) and was inserted, in an altered shape, 
in Lewis's Tales of Wonder, (No. 56.) 

CLERK COLVILL and his lusty dame 
Were walking in the garden green ; 

The belt around her stately waist 
Cost Clerk Colvill of pounds fifteen. 

" O promise me now, Clerk Colvill, 5 

Or it will cost ye muckle strife, 
Ride never by the wells of Slane, 
If ye wad live and brook your life." 


" Now speak nae mair, my lusty dame, 

Now speak nae mair of that to me : 10 
Did I ne'er see a fair woman, 

But I wad sin with her fair body ? " 

He's ta'en leave o' his gay lady, 
Nought minding what his lady said, 

And he's rode by the wells of Slane, w 

Where washing was a bonny maid. 

" Wash on, wash on, my bonny maid, 

That wash sae clean your sark of silk ; " 

" And weel fa' you, fair gentleman, 

Your body's whiter than the milk." 20 

Then loud, loud cry'd the Clerk Colvill, 
" O my head it pains me sair ; " 
" Then take, then take," the maiden said, 
" And frae my sark you'll cut a gare." 

Then she's gi'ed him a little bane-knife, 
And frae her sark he cut a share ; 

She's ty'd it round his whey-white face, 
But ay his head it aked mair. 

Then louder cry'd the Clerk Colvill, 
" O sairer, sairer akes my head ; " 
" And sairer, sairer ever will," 

The maiden crys, " till you be dead." 

27, his sark. 
VOL. i. 13 


Out then he drew his shining blade, 

Thinking to stick her where she stood ; 35 

But she was vanish'd to a fish, 
And swam far off, a fair mermaid. 

" O mother, mother, braid my hair ; 

My lusty lady, make my bed ; 
O brother, take my sword and spear, ) 

For I have seen the false mermaid." 


From Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, i. 22, where 
it is entitled The Gowans sae gay, from the burden. 

THE hero of the first of the two following ballads 
would seem to be an Elf, that of the second a Nix, or 
Merman, though the punishment awarded to each of 
them in the catastrophe, as the ballads now exist, is not 
consistent with their supernatural character. It is pos 
sible that in both instances two independent stories 
have been blended : but it is curious that the same 
intermixture should occur in Norse and German also. 
See Grundtvig's preface to Noekkens Svig, ii. p. 57. 
The conclusion in all these cases is derived from a 
ballad resembling May Colvin, vol. ii. p. 272. 

We have had the Elf-Knight introduced under the 
same circumstances at page 128 ; indeed, the first 
three or four stanzas are common to both pieces. 

FAIR lady Isabel sits in her bower sewing, 

Aye as the gowans grow gay ; 
There she heard an elf-knight blawing his horn, 

The first morning in May. 


" If I had yon horn that I hear blawing," 

Aye as the gowans grow gay ; 
" And yon elf-knight to sleep in my bosom," 

Ttie first morning in May. 

This maiden had scarcely these words spoken, 

Aye as the gowans grow gay ; 
Till in at her window the elf-knight has luppen, 

The first morning in May. 

" Its a very strange matter, fair maiden," said he, 

Aye as the gowans grow gay, 
" I canna' blaw my horn, but ye call on me," 

The first morning in May. 

" But will ye go to yon greenwood side," 

Aye as the gowans grow gay ? 
" If ye canna' gang, I will cause you to ride," 

The first morning in May. 

He leapt on a horse, and she on another, 

Aye as the gowans grow gay ; 
And they rode on to the greenwood together, 

The first morning in May. 

" Light down, light down, lady Isabel," said he, 

Aye as the gowans grow gay ; 
" We are come to the place where ye are to die," 

The first morning in May. 


" Ha'e mercy, ha'e mercy, kind sir, on me," 

Aye as the gowans grow gay ; so 

" Till ance my dear father and mother I see," 
The first morning in May. 

" Seven king's-daughters here hae I slain," 

Aye as the gowans grow gay ; 
" And ye shall be the eight o' them," as 

The first morning in May. 

" O sit down a while, lay your head on my knee," 

Aye as the gowans grow gay ; 
" That we may hae some rest before that I die," 

The first morning in May. 40 

She stroak'd him sae fast, the nearer he did creep, 

Aye as the gowans grow gay ; 
Wi' a sma' charm she lull'd him fast asleep, 

The first morning in May. 

Wi' his ain sword belt sae fast as she ban' him, 

Aye as the gowans grow gay ; 
With his ain dag-durk sae sair as she dang him, 

The first morning in May. 

" If seven kings' daughters here ye ha'e slain," 
Aye as the gowans grow gay, 50 

" Lye ye here, a husband to them a'," 
The first morning in May. 


FROM Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, 
ii. 201. Repeated in Scottish Traditional Versions of 
Ancient Ballads, Percy Society, xvii. 63. 

The three ballads which follow, diverse as they may 
now appear, after undergoing successive corruptions, 
were primarily of the same type. In the first (which 
may be a compound of two ballads, like the preceding, 
the conclusion being taken from a story of the charac 
ter of May Colvin in the next volume) the Merman or 
Nix may be easily recognized : in the second he is 
metamorphosed into the Devil ; and in the third, into 
a ghost. Full details upon the corresponding Scan 
dinavian, German, and Slavic legends, are given by 
Grundtvig, in the preface to Noekkens Svig, Danmarks 
G. Folkeviser, ii. 57 : translated by Jamieson, i. 210, 
and by Monk Lewis, Tales of Wonder, No. 11. 

THERE came a bird out o' a bush, 

On water for to dine ; 
And sighing sair, says the king's daughter, 

" O waes this heart o' mine ! " 

He's taen a harp into his hand, 

He's harped them all asleep ; 
Except it was the king's daughter, 

Who ae wink cou'dna get. 


He's luppen on his berry-brown steed, 

Taen her on behind himsell ; 10 

Then baith rade down to that water, 
That they ca' Wearie's well. 

" Wide in, wide in, my lady fair, 

Nae harm shall thee befall ; 
Aft times hae I water'd my steed, w 

Wi' the water o' Wearie's well." 

The first step that she stepped in, 

She stepped to the knee ; 
And sighing sair, says this lady fair, 

" This water's nae for me." 20 

" Wide in, wide in, my lady fair, 

Nae harm shall thee befall ; 
Aft times hae I water'd my steed, 

Wi' the water o' Wearie's well." 

The next step that she stepped in, 25 

She stepped to the middle ; 
And sighing, says, this lady fair, 

" I've wat my gowden girdle." 

" Wide in, wide in, my lady fair, 

Nae harm shall thee befall ; so 

Aft times hae I water'd my steed, 

Wi' the water o' Wearie's well." 


The niest step that she stepped in, 

She stepped to the chin ; 
And sighing, says, this lady fair, 35 

" They shou'd gar twa loves twine." 

" Seven king's-daughters I've drown'd there, 

In the water o' Wearie's well ; 
And I'll make you the eight o' them, 

And ring the common bell." 40 

" Sin' I am standing here," she says, 

" This dowie death to die ; 
Ae kiss o' your comely mouth 

I'm sure wou'd comfort me." 

He louted him ower his saddle bow, 45 

To kiss her cheek and chin ; 
She's taen him in her arms twa, 

And thrown him headlang in. 

" Sin' seven king's daughters ye've drown'd 

In the water o' Wearie's well, so 

I'll make you bridegroom to them a', 

An' ring the bell mysell." 

And aye she warsled, and aye she swam, 

Till she swam to dry land ; 
Then thanked God most cheerfully, & 

The dangers she'd ower came. 


This ballad was communicated to Sir Walter Scott, 
(Minstrelsy, iii. 195,) by Mr. William Laidlaw, who 
took it down from recitation. A fragment of the same 
legend, recovered by Motherwell, is given in the Ap 
pendix to this volume, and another version, in which 
the hero is not a daemon, but the ghost of an injured 
lover, is placed directly after the present. 

The Devil (Auld Nick} here takes the place of the 
Merman (Nix) of the ancient ballad. See p. 198, and 
the same natural substitution noted in K. u. H. 
Marchen, 3d ed. iii. 253. 

" O WHERE have you been, my long, long love, 
This long seven years and more ? " 

" O I'm come to seek my former vows 
Ye granted me before." 

" O hold your tongue of your former vows, s 

For they will breed sad strife ; 
O hold your tongue of your former vows, 
For I am become a wife." 

He turn'd him right and round about, 

And the tear blinded his ee ; 10 

u I wad never hae trodden on Irish ground, 
If it had not been for thee. 


" I might hae had a king's daughter, 

Far, far beyond the sea ; 
I might have had a king's daughter, 
Had it not been for love o' thee." 

" If ye might have had a king's daughter,- 

Yer sell ye had to blame ; 
Ye might have taken the king's daughter, 
For ye kend that I was nane." 

" faulse are the vows of womankind, 

But fair is their faulse bodie ; 
I never wad hae trodden on Irish ground, 
Had it not been for love o' thee." 

" If I was to leave my husband dear, 

And my two babes also, 
O what have you to take me to, 
If with you I should go ? " 

" I hae seven ships upon the sea, 

The eighth brought me to land ; 
"With four-and-twenty bold mariners, 
And music on every hand." 

She has taken up her two little babes, 
Kiss'd them baith cheek and chin ; 
" fair ye weel, my ain two babes, 
For I'll never see you again." 


She set her foot upon the ship, 

No mariners could she behold ; 
But the sails were o' the taffetie, 

And the masts o' the beaten gold. 

She had not saiTd a league, a league, 

A league but barely three, 
When dismal grew his countenance, 

And drumlie grew his ee. 

The masts that were like the beaten gold, 45 

Bent not on the heaving seas ; 
But the sails, that were o' the taffetie, 

FilTd not in the east land breeze. 

They had not sailed a league, a league, 

A league but barely three, so 

Until she espied his cloven foot, 
And she wept right bitterlie. 

" O hold your tongue of your weeping," says he, 
" Of your weeping now let me be ; 
I will show you how the lilies grow tx 

On the banks of Italy." 

" what hills are yon, yon pleasant hills. 
That the sun shines sweetly on ? " 
" O yon are the hills of heaven," he said, 

" Where you will never win." eo 


" O whaten a mountain is yon," she said, 
" All so dreary wi' frost and snow ? " 

" O yon is the mountain of hell," he cried, 
" Where you and I will go." 

And aye when she turn'd her round about, es 

Aye taller he seem'd for to be ; 
Until that the tops o' that gallant ship 

Nae taller were than he. 

The clouds grew dark, and the wind grew loud. 
And the levin fill'd her ee ; 70 

And waesome waiFd the snaw-white sprites 
Upon the gurlie sea. 

He strack the tap-mast wi' his hand, 

The fore-mast wi' his knee ; 
And he brake that gallant ship in twain, 75 

And sank her in the sea. 


From Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, (i. 214.) 
(See the preface to the last ballad but one.) 

" O ARE ye my father, or are ye my mother ? 

Or are ye my brother John ? 
Or are ye James Herries, my first true love, 
Come back to Scotland again ? " 

" I am not your father, I am not your mother, s 

Nor am I your brother John ; 
But I'm James Herries, your first true love, 
Come back to Scotland again." 

" Awa', awa', ye former lovers, 

Had far awa' frae me ; 10 

For now I am another man's wife, 
Ye'll ne'er see joy o' me." 

" Had I kent that ere I came here, 

I ne'er had come to thee ; 
For I might hae married the king's daughter, is 
Sae fain she wou'd had me. 


" I despised the crown o' gold, 

The yellow silk also ; 
And I am come to my true love, 
But with me she'll not go." 

" My husband he is a carpenter, 

Makes his bread on dry land, 
And I hae born him a young son, 
Wi' you I will not gang." 

" You must forsake your dear husband, 

Your little young son also, 
Wi' me to sail the raging seas, 

Where the stormy winds do blow." 

" O what hae you to keep me wi', 

If I should with you go ? 
If I'd forsake my dear husband, 
My little young son also ? " 

" See ye not yon seven pretty ships, 
The eighth brought me to land ; 
With merchandize and mariners, 
And wealth in every hand ? " 

She turn'd her round upon the shore, 
Her love's ships to behold ; 

Their topmasts and their mainyards 
Were cover'd o'er wi' gold. 


Then she's gane to her little young son, 
And kiss'd him cheek and chin ; 

Sae has she to her sleeping husband, 
And dune the same to him. 

" O sleep ye, wake ye, my husband, & 

I wish ye wake in time ; 
I woudna for ten thousand pounds, 
This night ye knew my mind." 

She's drawn the slippers on her feet, 

Were cover'd o'er wi' gold ; so 

Well lined within wi' velvet fine, 
To had her frae the cold. 

She hadna sailed upon the sea 

A league but barely three, 
Till she minded on her dear husband, 

Her little young son tee. 

" O gin I were at land again, 

At land where I wou'd be, 
The woman ne'er shou'd bear the son, 

Shou'd gar me sail the sea." eo 

" hold your tongue, my sprightly flower, 

Let a' your mourning be ; 
I'll show you how the lilies grow 
On the banks o' Italy." 


She hadna sailed on the sea 

A day but barely ane, 
Till the thoughts o' grief came in her mind, 

And she lang'd for to be hame. 

" O gentle death, come cut my breath, 

I may be dead ere morn ; 
I may be buried in Scottish ground, 
Where I was bred and born." 

" hold your tongue, my lily leesome thing, 

Let a' your mourning be ; 
But for a while we'll stay at Rose Isle, 
Then see a far countrie. 

" Ye'se ne'er be buried in Scottish ground, 

Nor land ye's nae mair see ; 
I brought you away to punish you, 
For the breaking your vows to me. 

" I said ye shou'd see the lilies grow 

On the banks o' Italy ; 
But I'll let you see the fishes swim, 
In the bottom o' the sea." 

He reached his hand to the topmast, 

Made a' the sails gae down ; 
And in the twinkling o' an e'e, 

Baith ship and crew did drown. 


The fatal flight o' this wretched maid 

Did reach her ain countrie ; 90 

Her husband then distracted ran, 
And this lament made he : 

" O wae be to the ship, the ship, 

And wae be to the sea, 
And wae be to the mariners, w 

Took Jeanie Douglas frae me ! 

* O bonny, bonny was my love, 

A pleasure to behold ; 
The very hair o' my love's head 

Was like the threads o' gold. 100 

" O bonny was her cheek, her cheek, 

And bonny was her chin ; 
And bonny was the bride she was, 
The day she was made mine ! " 

*** The following stanzas from a version of this ballad 
printed at Philadelphia (and called The He/use Carpenter] 
are given hi Graham's Illustrated Magazine, Sept. 1858. 

" I might have married the king's daughter dear; " 
" You might have married her," cried she, 

" For I am married to a House Carpenter, 
And a fine young man is he." 

" Oh dry up your tears, my own true love, 

And cease your weeping," cried he; 
" For soon you'll see your own happy home, 

On the banks of old Tennessee." 
VOL. i. 14 


From Buchatfs Ballads of the North of Scotland, (i. 227.) 

" THERE is a fashion in this land, 

And even come to this country, 
That every lady should meet her lord, 
When he is newly come frae sea : 

" Some wi' hawks, and some wi' hounds, 

And other some wi' gay rnonie ; 
But I will gae myself alone, 

And set his young son on his knee." 

She's ta'en her young son in her arms, 

And nimbly walk'd by yon sea strand ; : 

And there she spy'd her father's ship, 
As she was sailing to dry land. 

" Where hae ye put my ain gude lord, 
This day he stays sae far frae me ? " 

" If ye be wanting your ain gude lord, 
A sight o' him ye'll never see." 


" Was he brunt, or was he shot ? 

Or was he drowned in the sea? 
Or what's become o' my ain gude lord, 

That he will ne'er appear to me ? " ao 

" He wasna brunt, nor was he shot, 

Nor was he drowned in the sea ; 
He was slain in Dumfermling, 
A fatal day to you and me." 

" Come in, come in, my merry young men, as 

Come in and drink the wine wi' me ; 
And a' the better ye shall fare, 
For this gude news ye tell to me." 

She's brought them down to yon cellar, 

She brought them fifty steps and three ; so 

She birled wi' them the beer and wine, 
Till they were as drunk as drunk could be. 

Then she has lock'd her cellar door, 

For there were fifty steps and three ; 
" Lie there wi' my sad malison, 35 

For this bad news ye've tauld to me." 

She's ta'en the keys intill her hand, 

And threw them deep, deep in the sea ; 
" Lie there wi' my sad malison, 

Till my gude lord return to me." 40 


Then she sat down in her own room, 
And sorrow lull'd her fast asleep ; 

And up it starts her own gude lord, 
And even at that lady's feet. 

" Take here the keys, Janet," he says, 
" That ye threw deep, deep in the sea ; 
And ye'll relieve my merry young men, 
For they've nane o' the swick o' me. 

" They shot the shot, and drew the stroke, 

And wad in red bluid to the knee ; 
Nae sailors mair for their lord coud do, 
Nor my young men they did for me." 

" I hae a question at you to ask, 

Before that ye depart frae me ; 
You'll tell to me what day I'll die, 
And what day will my burial be ? " 

" I hae nae mair o' God's power 

Than he has granted unto me ; 

But come to heaven when ye will, 

There porter to you I will be. 

" But ye'll be wed to a finer knight 

Than ever was in my degree ; 
Unto him ye'll hae children nine, 
And six o' them will be ladies free. 


" The other three will be bold young men, es 

To fight for king and countrie ; 
The ane a duke, the second a knight, 

And third a laird o' lands sae free." 


Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, iii. 258, 

That the repose of the dead is disturbed by the im 
moderate grief of those they have left behind them, is 
a belief which finds frequent expression in popular 
ballads. Obstinate sorrow rouses them from their 
grateful slumber ; every tear that is shed for them 
wets their shroud ; they can get no rest, and are com 
pelled to revisit the world they would fain forget, to 
rebuke and forbid the mourning that destroys their 

" Ice-cold and bloody, a lead-weight of sorrow, falls on my 
breast each tear that you shed," 

says the ghost of Helgi in the Edda to his lamenting 
wife (Helgak. Hundingsb. II.) The same idea is found 
in the German ballad, Der Vorwirth, Erk's Liederhort, 
No. 46, 46 a, and in various tales, as Das Todtenhemd- 
chen, (K. u. H. Mdrchen, No. 109, and note), etc. In 
like manner Sir Aage, in a well-known Danish ballad 
(Grundtvig, No. 90), and the corresponding Sorgens 
Magt, Svenska F. V., No. 6. 


" Every time thou weepest for me, 

Thy heart makest sad, 
Then all within, my coffin stands full 
Of clotted blood." 

Rarely is the silence of the grave broken for pur 
poses of consolation. Yet some cases there are, as in 
a Lithuanian ballad cited by Wackernagel, Altd. Blat 
ter, i. 176, and a Spanish ballad noticed by Talvj, 
Versuch, p. 141. The present ballad seems to belong 
to the latter class rather than the former, but it is so 
imperfect that its true character cannot be determined. 

Chambers maintains, we think erroneously, that this 
ballad is a fragment of The Clerk's Twa Sons o' Ow- 
senford. See the second volume of this collection, 
page 63. 

THERE lived a wife at Usher's Well, 
And a wealthy wife was she, 

She had three stout and stalwart sons, 
And sent them o'er the sea. 

They hadna been a week from her, 

A week but barely ane, 
When word came to the carline wife, 

That her three sons were gane. 

They hadna been a week from her, 

A week but barely three, 
When word came to the carline wife, 

That her sons she'd never see. 


"I wish the wind may never cease, 

Nor fishes in the flood, 

Till my three sons come hame to me, is 

In earthly flesh and blood." 

It fell about the Martinmas, 

"When nights are lang and mirk, 
The carline wife's three sons came hame, 

And their hats were o' the birk. 20 

It neither grew in syke nor ditch, 

Nor yet in ony sheugh ; 
But at the gates o' Paradise, 

That birk grew fair eneugh. 

" Blow up the fire, my maidens ! 
Bring water from the weh 1 ! 
For a' my house shall feast this night, 
Since my three sons are well." 

And she has made to them a bed, 
She's made it large and wide ; 

And she's ta'en her mantle her about, 
Sat down at the bed-side. 

14. Should we not read, for fishes here, fashes i. e. 
troubles ? LOCKHART. 


Up then crew the red red cock, 
And up and crew the gray ; 
The eldest to the youngest said, 
" 'Tis time we were away." 

The cock he hadna craw'd but once, 

And clapp'd his wings at a', 
Whan the youngest to the eldest said, 
" Brother, we must awa. 

" The cock doth craw, the day doth daw, 

The channerin' worm doth chide ; 
Gin we be mist out o' our place, 
A sair pain we maun bide. 

" Fare ye weel, my mother dear ! 
Fareweel to barn and byre ! 
And fare ye weel, the bonny lass, 
That kindles my mother's fire." 


Or, a relation of a young man, who, a month after his 
death, appeared to his sweetheart, and carried her on 
horseback behind him for forty miles in two hours, 
and was never seen after but in his grave. 

FROM A Collection of Old Ballads, i. 266. In Moore's 
Pictorial Book of Ancient Ballad Poetry (p. 463) is a 
copy from a broadside in the Roxburghe collection. 

The Suffolk Miracle has an external resemblance to 
several noble ballads, but the likeness does not extend 
below the surface. It is possible that we have here 
the residuum of an old poem, from which all the 
beauty and spirit have been exhaled in the course of 
tradition ; but as the ballad now exists, it is a vulgar 
ghost-story, without any motive. Regarding the exter 
nal form alone, we may place by its side the Breton 
ballad, Le Frere de Lait, in Villemarque's Chants Pop- 
ulaires de la Bretagne, vol. i. No. 22 (translated by 
Miss Costello, Quart. Review, vol. 68, p. 75), the Ro 
maic ballad of Constantine and Arete, in Fauriel's 
Chants Populaires de la Grece Moderne, p. 406 (see 
Appendix), and the Servian ballad (related to the 
Romaic, and perhaps derived from it), Jelitza and her 
Brothers, Talvj, Volkslieder der Serben, i. 160, all of 
them among the most beautiful specimens in this kind 
of literature ; and also Burger's Lenore. It has been 


once or twice most absurdly suggested that Lenore 
owed its existence to this Suffolk Miracle. The differ 
ence, indeed, is not greater than between a " Chronicle 
History " and Macbeth ; it is however certain that Bur 
ger's ballad is all his own, except the hint of the 
ghostly horseman and one or two phrases, which he 
took from the description of a Low German ballad. 
The editors of the Wunderhorn claim to give this bal 
lad, vol. ii. p. 19. An equivalent prose tradition is 
well known in Germany. Most of the ballads relat 
ing to the return of departed spirits are brought to 
gether in an excellent article by Wackernagel in the 
Altdeutsche Blatter, i. 1 74. 

A WONDER stranger ne'er was known 
Than what I now shall treat upon. 
In Suffolk there did lately dwell 
A farmer rich and known full well- 
He had a daughter fair and bright, fi 
On whom he placed his chief delight ; 
Her beauty was beyond compare, 
She was both virtuous and fair. 

There was a young man living by, 

Who was so charmed with her eye, 10 

That he could never be at rest ; 

He was by love so much possest. 

He made address to her, and she 

Did grant him love immediately ; 

But when her father came to hear, 

He parted her and her poor dear. 


Forty miles distant was she sent, 

Unto his brother's, with intent 

That she should there so long remain, 

Till she had changed her mind again. 20 

Hereat this young man sadly grieved, 
But knew not how to be relieved ; 
He sighed and sobbed continually 
That his true love he could not see. 

She by no means could to him send, 25 

Who was her heart's espoused friend ; 
He sighed, he grieved, but all in vain, 
For she confined must still remain. 

He mourned so much, that doctor's art 
Could give no ease unto his heart, 

Who was so strangely terrified, 
That in short time for love he died. 

She that from him was sent away 

Knew nothing of his dying day, 

But constant still she did remain, 35 

And loved the dead, although in vain. 

After he had in grave been laid 

A month or more, unto this maid 

He came in middle of the night, 

Who joyed to see her heart's delight. 


Her father's horse, which well she knew, 
Her mother's hood and safe-guard too, 
He brought with him to testify 
Her parents order he came by. 

Which when her uncle understood, 
He hoped it would be for her good, 
And gave consent to her straightway, 
That with him she should come away. 

When she was got her love behind, 
They passed as swift as any wind, 
That in two hours, or little more, 
He brought her to her father's door. 

But as they did this great haste make, 
He did complain his head did ake ; 
Her handkerchief she then took out, 
And tied the same his head about. 

And unto him she thus did say : 
" Thou art as cold as any clay ; 
When we come home a fire we'll have ; " 
But little dreamed he went to grave. 

Soon were they at her father's door, 
And after she ne'er saw him more ; 
" I'll set the horse up," then he said, 
And there he left this harmless maid. 


She knocked, and straight a man he cried, ss 
Who's there ? " " Tis I," she then replied ; 
Who wondred much her voice to hear, 
And was possessed with dread and fear. 

Her father he did tell, and then 
He stared like an affrighted man : ro 

Down stairs he ran, and when he see her, 
Cried out, " My child, how cam'st thou here ? " 

" Pray, sir, did you not send for me," 

By such a messenger ? said she : 

Which made his hair stare on his head, re 

As knowing well that he was dead. 

" Where is he ? " then to her he said ; 

" He's in the stable," quoth the maid. 

" Go in," said he, " and go to bed ; 

" I'll see the horse weU littered." ao 

He stared about, and there could he 
No shape of any mankind see, 
But found his horse all on a sweat ; 
Which made him in a deadly fret. 

His daughter he said nothing to, as 

Nor none else, (though full well they knew 
That he was dead a month before,) 
For fear of grieving her full sore. 


Her father to the father went 

Of the deceased, with full intent w 

To tell him what his daughter said ; 

So both came back unto this maid. 

They ask'd her, and she still did say 
'Twas he that then brought her away ; 
Which when they heard they were amazed, w 
And on each other strangely gazed. 

A handkerchief she said she tied 

About his head, and that they tried ; 

The sexton they did speak unto, 

That he the grave would then undo. 100 

Affrighted then they did behold 

His body turning into mould, 

And though he had a month been dead, 

This handkerchief was about his head. 

This thing unto her then they told, i(w 

And the whole truth they did unfold ; 

She was thereat so terrified 

And grieved, that she quickly died. 

Part not true love, you rich men, then ; 
But, if they be right honest 'men 110 

Your daughters love, give them their way, 
For force oft breeds their lives decay. 


From Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 124. 

THIS fragment, Motherwell tells us, was communi 
cated to him by an ingenious friend, who remembered 
having heard it sung in his youth. He does not vouch 
for its antiquity, and we have little or no hesitation in 
pronouncing it a modern composition. 

WHAN he cam to his ain luve's bouir, 

He tirled at the pin, 
And sae ready was his fair fause luve 

To rise and let him in. 

" O welcome, welcome, Sir Roland," she says, 
" Thrice welcome thou art to me ; o 

For this night thou wilt feast in my secret 

And to-morrow we'll wedded be." 


" This night is hallow-eve," he said, 

" And to-morrow is hallow-day ; 10 

And I dreamed a drearie dream yestreen, 
That has made my heart fu' wae. 

" I dreamed a drearie dream yestreen, 
And I wish it may cum to gude : 

I dreamed that ye slew my best grew 
hound, 15 

And gied me his lappered blucle." 

" Unbuckle your belt, Sir Roland," she said, 

" And set you safely down." 
" O your chamber is very dark, fair maid, 

And the night is wondrous lown." 

" Yes, dark, dark is my secret bowir, 
And lown the midnight may be ; 

For there is none waking in a' this tower, 
But thou, my true love, and me." 

She has mounted on her true love's steed, 
By the ae light o' the moon ; 

She has whipped him and spurred him, 
And roundly she rade frae the toun. 


She hadna ridden a mile o' gate, 

Never a mile but ane, ao 

Whan she was aware of a tall young man, 

Slow riding o'er the plain. 

She turned her to the right about, 

Then to the left turn'd she ; 
But aye, 'tween her and the wan moonlight, as 

That tall knight did she see. 

And he was riding burd alane, 

On a horse as black as jet ; 
But tho' she followed him fast and fell, 

No nearer could she get. 40 

" O stop ! O stop ! young man," she said, 

" For I in dule am dight ; 
O stop, and win a fair lady's luve, 

If you be a leal true knight." 

But nothing did the tall knight say, 48 

And nothing did he blin ; 
Still slowly rode he on before, 

And fast she rade behind. 

She whipped her steed, she spurred her steed, 
Till his breast was all a foam ; so 

But nearer unto that tall young knight, 

By Our Ladye, she could not come. 
VOL. i. 15 


" if you be a gay young knight, 

As well I trow you be, 
Pull tight your bridle reins, and stay 

Till I come up to thee." 

But nothing did that tall knight say, 

And no whit did he blin, 
Until he reached a broad river's side, 

And there he drew his rein. 

" O is this water deep," he said, 

" As it is wondrous dun ? 
Or it is sic as a saikless maid 

And a leal true knight may swim ? " 

" The water it is deep," she said, 

" As it is wondrous dun ; 
But it is sic as a saikless maid 

And a leal true knight may swim." 

The knight spurred on his tall black steed, 
The lady spurred on her brown ; 

And fast they rade unto the flood, 
And fast they baith swam down. 

u The water weets my tae," she said, 
" The water weets my knee ; 

And hold up my bridle reins, sir knight, 
For the sake of Our Ladye." 


" If I would help thee now," he said, 

" It were a deadly sin ; 
For I've sworn neir to trust a fair may's word, 

Till the water weets her chin." so 

" O the water weets my waist," she said, 

" Sae does it weet my skin ; 
And my aching heart rins round about, 

The burn maks sic a din. 

" The water is waxing deeper still, as 

Sae does it wax mair wide ; 
And aye the farther that we ride on, 

Farther off is the other side. 

" O help me now, thou false, false knight, 
Have pity on my youth ; 90 

For now the water jawes owre my head, 
And it gurgles in my mouth." 

The knight turned right and round about, 

All in the middle stream, 
And he stretched out his head to that lady, as 

But loudly she did scream. 

" this is hallow-morn," he said, 

" And it is your bridal day ; 
But sad would be that gay wedding, 

If bridegroom and bride were away. 100 


' And ride on, ride on, proud Margaret ! 

Till the water comes o'er your bree ; 
For the bride maun ride deep, and deeper yet, 

Wha rides this ford wi' me. 

" Turn round, turn round, proud Margaret ! 

Turn ye round, and look on me ; ioe 

Thou hast killed a true knight under trust, 

And his ghost now links on with thee." 



PRINTED from the celebrated Percy MS. in Mad- 
den's Syr Gawayne, p. 275. The editor has added the 
following note. 

" It has no title, and the first line has been cut away 
by the ignorant binder to whom the volume was in 
trusted, but both are supplied from the notice given 
of the ballad in the Dissertation prefixed to vol. iii. of 
the Reliques, p. xxxvii. Dr. Percy has added in the 
margin of the MS. these words : " To the best of my 
remembrance, this was the first line, before the binder 
cut it." The poem is very imperfect, owing to the 
leaves having been half torn away to light fires (!) as 
the Bishop tells us, but I am bound to add, previous 
to its coming into his possession. The story is so sin 
gular, that it is to be hoped an earlier and complete 
copy of it may yet be recovered. On no account per 
haps is it more remarkable, than the fact of its close 
imitation of the famous gabs made by Charlemagne 
and his companions at the court of King Hugon, which 
are first met with in a romance of the twelfth century, 
published by M. Michel from a MS. in the British Mu 
seum, 12mo., London, 1836, and transferred at a later 
period to the prose romance of Galien Rethore, printed 
by Verard, fol., 1500, and often afterwards. In the 


absence of other evidence, it is to be presumed that 
the author of the ballad borrowed from the printed 
work, substituting Arthur for Charlemagne, Gawayne 
for Oliver, Tristram for Roland, etc., and embellishing 
his story by converting King Hugon's spy into a " lodly 
feend," by whose agency the gabs are accomplished. 
It is further worthy of notice, that the writer seems to 
regard Arthur as the sovereign of Little Britain, and 
alludes to an intrigue between the King of Cornwall 
and Queen Guenever, which is nowhere, as far as 
I recollect, hinted at in the romances of the Round 

<( COME here my cozen, Gawain, so gay ; 

My sisters sonne be yee ; 

For you shall see one of the fairest Round Tables, 

That ever you see with your eye." 

Then bespake [the] Lady Queen Guenever, 5 

And these were the words said shee : 
" I know where a Round Table is, thou noble king, 
Is worth thy Round Table and other such three. 

" The trestle that stands under this Round Table," 

" Lowe downe to the mould, 10 

It is worth thy Round Table, thou worthy king, 
Thy halls, and all thy gold. 

" The place where this Round Table stands in, 
It is worth thy castle, thy gold, thy fee ; 
And all good Litle Britaine," is 

" Where may that table be, lady V " quoth hee, 


" Or where may all that goodly building be ? " 
"You shall it seeke," shee sayd, " till you it find, 
For you shall never gett more of me." 

Then bespake him noble King Arthur, 20 

These were the words said hee ; 
" He make mine avow to God, 
And alsoe to the Trinity, 

" He never sleepe one night, there as I doe another, 
Till that Round Table I see ; 25 

Sir Marramiles and Sir Tristeram, 
Fellowes that ye shall bee. 

" Weele be clad in palmers weede, 

Five palmers we will bee ; 

There is noe outlandish man will us abide, so 

Nor will us come nye." 

Then they rived east and they rived west, 

In many a strange country. 

Then they travelled a litle further, 

They saw a battle new sett ; 86 

" Now, by my faith," saies noble King Arthur, 

[Half a page is here torn away.~\ 

But when he came that castle to, 

And to the palace gate, 

Soe ready was ther a proud porter, 

And met him soone therat. 

MS. 32, the rived west. 34, tranckled. 


Shooes of gold the porter had on, 
And all his other rayment was unto the same ; 
" Now, by my faith," saies noble Bang Arthur, 
" Yonder is a minion swaine." 

Then bespake noble King Arthur, 

These were the words says hee : 
" Come hither, thou proud porter, 
I pray thee come hither to me. 

" I have two poor rings of my finger, 
The better of them He give to thee ; so 

[To] tell who may be lord of this castle," he saies, 
" Or who is lord in this cuntry ? " 

" Cornewall King," the porter sayes, 

" There is none soe rich as hee ; 

Neither in Christendome, nor yet in heathennest, 55 

None hath soe much gold as he." 

And then bespake him noble King Arthur, 

These were the words sayes hee : 

" I have two poore rings of my finger, 

The better of them He give thee, GO 

If thou wilt greete him well, Cornewall King, 

And greete him well from me. 

" Pray him for one nights lodging, and two meales 


For his love that dyed uppon a tree ; 
A bue ghesting, and two meales meate, as 

For his love that dyed uppon a tree. 

MS. 50, They better. 65, bue, sic. 


" A bue ghesting, and two meales meate, 

For his love that was of virgin borne, 

And in the morning that we may scape away, 

Either without scath or scorne." 70 

Then forth is gone this proud porter, 
As fast as he cold hye ; 
And when he came befor Cornewall King, 
He kneeled downe on his knee. 

Sayes, " I have beene porter, man, at thy gate, ra 
[Half a page is wanting.'] 

our Lady was borne, 

Then thought Cornewall King these palmers had 
beene in Britt. 

Then bespake him Cornewall King, 

These were the words he said there : 

" Did you ever know a comely King, ao 

His name was King Arthur ? " 

And then bespake him noble King Arthur, 

These were the words said hee : 

" I doe not know that comly King, 

But once my selfe I did him see." as 

Then bespake Cornwall King againe, 

These were the words said he. 

MS. 67, bue, sic; of two. 71, his gone. 


Sayes, " Seven yeere I was clad and fed, 

In Litle Brittaine, in a bower ; 

I had a daughter by King Arthurs wife, w 

It now is called my flower ; 

For King Arthur, that kindly cockward, 

Hath none such in his bower. 

" For I durst sweare, and save my othe, 

That same lady soe bright, 95 

That a man that were laid on his death-bed 

Wold open his eyes on her to have sight." 

" Now, by my faith," sayes noble King Arthur, 

" And thats a full faire wight 1 " 

And then bespake Cornewall [King] againe, 100 

And these were the words he said : 

" Come hither, five or three of my knights, 

And feitch me downe my steed ; 

King Arthur, that foule cockeward, 

Hath none such, if he had need. ws 

" For I can ryde him as far on a day, 
As King Arthur can doe any of his on three. 
And is it not a pleasure for a King, 
When he shall ryde forth on his journey ? 

" For the eyes that beene in his head, no 

They glister as doth the gleed ; " 

" Now, by my faith," says noble Bang Arthur, 

[Half a paae is wanting, .] 
101, said he. Ill, The. 


No body 

But one thats learned to speake. 

Then King Arthur to his bed was brought, iis 

A greeived man was hee ; 

And soe were all his fellowes with himj 

From him they thought never to flee. 

Then take they did that lodly boome, 

And under thrubchandler closed was hee ; uo 

And he was set by King Arthurs bed-side, 

To heere theire talke, and theire com'nye ; 

That he might come forth, and make proclamation, 
Long before it was day ; 

It was more for King Cornwalls pleasure, 125 

Then it was for King Arthurs pay. 

And when King Arthur on his bed was laid, 

These were the words said hee : 

" He make mine avow to God, 

And alsoe to the Trinity, iao 

That Ee be the bane of Cornwall Kinge 

Litle Brittaine or ever I see ! " 

" It is an unadvised vow," saies Gawaine the gay, 

" As ever king hard make I ; 

But wee that beene five Christian men, iss 

Of the christen faith are wee ; 

And we shall fight against anoynted King, 

And all his armorie." 

MS. 118, the. 119, goomeV 120, thrubchadler. 


And then he spake him noble Arthur, 
And these were the words said he : no 

" Why, if thou be afraid, Sir Gawaine the gay, 
Goe home, and drinke wine in thine owne country." 


AND then bespake Sir Gawaine the gay, 

And these were the words said hee : 

" Nay, seeing you have made such a hearty vow, i 

Heere another vow make will I. 

" He make mine avow to God, 

And alsoe to the Trinity, 

That I will have yonder faire lady 

To Litle Brittaine with inee. i 

" He hose her hourly to my hart, 
And with her He worke my will ; 

[Half a page is wanting.] 

These were the words sayd hee : 

" Befor I wold wrestle with yonder feend, 

It is better be drowned in the sea." 155 

And then bespake Sir Bredbeddle, 
And these were the words said he : 
" Why, I will wrestle with yon lodly feend, 
God ! my governor thou shalt bee." 

151, hurt. 


Then bespake him noble Arthur, MO 

And these were the words said he : 
" What weapons wilt thou have, thou gentle knight ? 
I pray thee tell to me." 

He sayes, " Collen brand He have in my hand, 
And a Millaine knife fast be my knee ; ifis 

And a Danish axe fast in my hands, 
That a sure weapon I thinke wilbe." 

Then with his Collen brand, that he had in his hand, 
The bunge of the trubchandler he burst in three. 
What that start out a lodly feend, 170 

With seven heads, and one body. 

The fyer towards the element flew, 
Out of his mouth, where was great plentie ; 
The knight stoode in the middle, and fought, 
That it was great joy to see. irs 

Till his Collaine brand brake in his hand, 
And his Millaine knife burst on his knee ; 
And then the Danish axe burst in his hand first, 
That a sur weapon he thought shold be. 

But now is the knight left without any weapone, iao 

And alacke ! it was the more pitty ; 

But a surer weapon then had he one, 

Had never Lord in Christentye : 

And all was but one litle booke, 

He found it by the side of the sea. iw 

MS. 161, they words. 


He found it at the sea-side, 
Wrucked upp in a floode ; 
Our Lord had written it with his hands, 
And sealed it with his bloode. 

[Half a page is wanting."] 

" That thou doe 190 

But ly still in that wall of stone ; 

Till I have beene with noble King Arthur, 

And told him what I have done." 

And when he came to the King's chamber, 
He cold of his curtesie iw 

Saye, " Sleep you, wake you, noble King Arthur ? 
And ever Jesus watch yee ! " 

" Nay, I ana not sleeping, I am waking," 

These were the words said hee : 

" For thee I have car'd ; how hast thou fared ? 200 

O gentle knight, let me see." 

The knight wrought the King his booke, 

Bad him behold, reede, and see ; 

And ever he found it on the backside of the 

As noble Arthur wold wish it to be. 205 

And then bespake him King Arthur, 
" Alas ! thou gentle knight, how may this be, 
That I might see him in the same licknesse, 
That he stood unto thee ? " 


And then bespake him the Greene Knight, 210 

These were the words said hee : 

" If youle stand stifly in the battell stronge, 

For I have won all the victory." 

Then bespake him the King againe, 
And these were the words said hee : 215 

" If we stand not stifly in this battell strong, 
Wee are worthy to be hanged all on a tree." 

Then bespake him the Greene Knight, 

These were the words said hee : 

Saies, " I doe coniure thee, thou fowle feend, 220 

In the same licknesse thou stood unto me." 

With that start out a lodly feend, 

With seven heads, and one body ; 

The fier towarde the element flaugh, 

Out of his mouth, where was great plenty. 235 

The knight stood in the middle 

\Half a page is wanting."] 

the space of an houre, 

I know not what they did. 

And then bespake him the Greene Knight, 

And these were the words said he : 2 

Saith, " I coniure thee, thou fowle feend, 

That thou feitch downe the steed that we see." 

And then forth is gone Burlow-beanie, 
As fast as he cold hie ; 

210. The Greene Knight is Sir Bredbeddle. 
VOL. i. 16 


And feitch he did that faire steed, 2*5 

And came againe by and by. 

Then bespake him Sir Marramile, 

And these were the words said hee : 

" Riding of this steed, brother Bredbeddle, 

The mastery belongs to me." 210 

Marramile s tooke the steed to his hand, 
To ryd him he was full bold ; 
He cold noe more make him goe, 
Then a child of three yeere old. 

He laid uppon him with heele and hand, 245 

With yard that was soe fell ; 
" Helpe ! brother Bredbeddle," says Marramile, 
"For I thinke he be the devill of hell. 

" Helpe ! brother Bredbeddle," says Marramile, 
" Helpe ! for Christs pittye ; 250 

For without thy help, brother Bredbeddle, 
He will never be rydden for me." 

Then bespake him Sir Bredbeddle, 

These were the words said he : 

" I coniure thee, thou Burlow-beane, 255 

Thou tell me how this steed was riddin m his 


He saith, " There is a gold wand, 
Stands in King Cornwalls study windowe. 

MS. 245, saved. 

MS. 252, p' me, i. e. pro or per. 

MS. 255, Burlow-leane. 


" Let him take that wand in that window, 

And strike three strokes on that steed ; aeo 

And then he will spring forth of his hand, 

As sparke doth out of gleede." 

Then bespake him the Greene Knight, 

\Half a page is wanting.] 
A lowd blast 

And then bespake Sir Bredbeddle, 26s 

To the feend these words said hee : 

Says, " I coniure thee, thou Burlow-beanie, 

The powder-box thou feitch me." 

Then forth is gone Burlow-beanie, 

As fast as he cold hie ; aro 

And feich he did the powder-box, 

And came againe by and by. 

Then Sir Tristeram tooke powder forth of that box, 
And blent it with warme sweet milke ; 
And there put it unto the home, 275 

And swilled it about in that ilke. 

Then he tooke the home in his hand, 

And a lowd blast he blew ; 

He rent the home up to the midst, 

All his fellowes this they knew. SHO 

MS. 280, the knew. 


Then bespake him the Greene Knight, 
These were the words said he: 
Saies. " I coniure thee, thou Burlow-beanie, 
That thou feitch me the sword that I see." 

Then forth is gone Burlow-beanie, 285 

As fast as he cold hie ; 

And feitch he did that faire sword, 

And came againe by and by. 

Then bespake him Sir Bredbeddle, 

To the king these words said he : 290 

" Take this sword in thy hand, thou noble King, 

For the vowes sake that thou made He give it thee ; 

And goe strike off King Cornewalls head, 

In bed where he doth lye." 

Then forth is gone noble King Arthur, 205 

As fast as he cold hye ; 
And strucken he hath King Cornwalls head, 
And came againe by and by. 

He put the head upon a swords point, 

[ The poem terminates here abruptly.'] 
294, were. 


It is not impossible that this ballad should be the one 
quoted by Edgar in King Lear, (Act iii. sc. 4 :) 
" Child Rowland to the dark tower came." 

We have extracted the fragment given by Jamieson, 
with the breaks in the story filled out, from Illustrations 
of Northern Antiquities, p. 397 ; and we have added his 
translation of the Danish ballad of Rosmer Hafmand, 
which exhibits a striking similarity to Child Rowland, 
from Popular Ballads and Songs, ii. 202. The tale of 
the Red Etin, as given in Chambers's Pop. Rhymes of 
Scotland, p. 56, has much resemblance to Jamieson's 
story, and, like it, is interspersed with verse. 

The occurrence of the name Merlin is by no means 
a sufficient ground for connecting this tale, as Jamie- 
son would do, with the cycle of King Arthur. For 
Merlin, as Grundtvig has remarked (Folkeviser, ii. 79), 
did not originally belong to that cycle, and again, his 
name seems to have been given in Scotland to any 
sort of wizard or prophet. 

[" KING Arthur's sons o' merry Carlisle] 

Were playing at the ba' ; 
And there was their sister Burd Ellen, 
I* the mids amang them a'. 

44 Child Rowland kick'd it wi' his foot, 

And keppit it wi' his knee ; 
And ay, as he play'd out o'er them a', 
O'er the kirk he gar'd it flee. 


" Burd Ellen round about the isle 

To seek the ba' is gane ; 10 

But they bade lang and ay langer, 
And she camena back again. 

" They sought her east, they sought her west, 

They sought her up and down ; 
And wae were the hearts [in merry Carlisle,] is 
For she was nae gait found ! " 

At last her eldest brother went to the Warluck 
Merlin, (Myrddin Wyldt,) and asked if he knew 
where his sister, the fair Burd Ellen, was. " The 
fair Burd Ellen," said the Warluck Merlin, " is carried 
away by the fairies, and is now in the castle of the 
king of Elfland ; and it were too bold an undertaking 
for the stoutest knight in Christendom to bring her 
back." " Is it possible to bring her back ? " said her 
brother, " and I will do it, or perish in the attempt." 
" Possible indeed it is," said the Warluck Merlin ; 
" but woe to the man or mother's son who attempts 
it, if he is not well instructed beforehand of what he 
is to do." 

Influenced no less by the glory of such an enter 
prise, than by the desire of rescuing his sister, the 
brother of the fair Burd Ellen resolved to undertake 
the adventure ; and after proper instructions from 
Merlin, (which he failed in observing,) he set out on 
his perilous expedition. 

" But they bade lang and ay langer, 

Wi' dout and mickle maen ; 
And wae were the hearts [in merry Carlisle,] 
For he camena back again." 20 


The second brother in like manner set out; but 
failed in observing the instructions of the Warluck 
Merlin ; and 

" They bade lang and ay langer, 
Wi' mickle dout and rnaen ; 
And wae were the hearts [in merry Carlisle,] 
For he camena back again." 

Child Rowland, the youngest brother of the fair 
Burd Ellen, then resolved to go ; but was strenuously 
opposed by the good queen, [Gwenevra,] who was 
afraid of losing all her children. 

At last the good queen [Gwenevra] gave him her 
consent and her blessing ; he girt on (in great form, 
and with all due solemnity of sacerdotal consecration,) 
his father's good claymore, [Excalibar,] that never 
struck in vain, and repaired to the cave of the War- 
luck Merlin. The Warluck Merlin gave him all 
necessary instructions for his journey and conduct, 
the most important of which were, that he should kill 
every person he met with after entering the land of 
Fairy, and should neither eat nor drink of what was 
offered him in that country, whatever his hunger or 
thirst might be ; for if he tasted or touched in Elfland, 
he must remain in the power of the Elves, and never 
see middle eard again. 

So Child Rowland set out on his journey, and trav 
elled " on and ay farther on," till he came to where 
(as he had been forewarned by the Warluck Merlin,) 
he found the king of Elfland's horse-herd feeding his 

" Canst thou tell me," said Child Rowland to the 


horse-herd, " where the king of Elfland's castle is ? " 
" I cannot tell thee," said the horse-herd ; " but go on 
a little farther, and thou wilt come to the cow-herd, 
and he, perhaps, may tell thee." So Child Rowland 
drew the good claymore, [Excalibar,] that never struck 
in vain, and hewed off the head of the horse-herd. 
Child Rowland then went on a little farther, till he 
came to the king of Elfland's cow-herd, who was feed 
ing his cows. " Canst thou tell me," said Child Row 
land to the cow-herd, " where the king of Elfland's 
castle is ? " "I 'cannot tell thee," said the cow-herd ; 
" but go on a little farther, and thou wilt come to the 
sheep-herd, and he perhaps may tell thee." So Child 
Rowland drew the good claymore, [Excalibar,] that 
never struck in vain, and hewed off the head of the 
cow-herd. He then went on a little farther, till he 
came to the sheep-herd. * * * * \The sheep- 
herd, goat-herd, and swine-herd are all, each in his turn, 
served in the same manner ; and lastly he is referred to 
the hen-wife.] 

" Go on yet a little farther," said the hen-wife, till 
thou come to a round green hill surrounded with rings 
(terraces") from the bottom to the top; go round it 
three times widershins, and every time say, " Open, 
door ! open, door ! and let me come in ; and the third 
time the door will open, and you may go in." So 
Child Rowland drew the good claymore, [Excalibar,] 
that never struck in vain, and hewed off the head 
of the hen-wife. Then went he three times ivider- 
shins round the green hill, crying, " Open, door ! 
open, door ! and let me come in ; " and the third time 
the door opened, and he went in. 

It immediately closed behind him ; and he proceeded 
through a long passage, where the air was soft and 


agreeably warm like a May evening, as is all the air 
of Elfland. The light was a sort of twilight or gloam 
ing ; but there were neither windows nor candles, and 
he knew not whence it came, if it was not from the 
walls and roof, which were rough, and arched like a 
grotto, and composed of a clear transparent rock, in- 
crusted with sheeps-silver and spar, and various bright 
stones. At last he came to two wide and lofty folding- 
doors, which stood a-jar. He opened them, and en 
tered a large and spacious hall, whose richness and 
brilliance no tongue can tell. It seemed to extend 
the whole length and height of the hill. The superb 
Gothic pillars by which the roof was supported, were 
so large and so lofty, (said my seannachy,) that the 
pillars of the Chanry Kirk,* or of Pluscardin Abbey, 
are no more to be compared to them, than the Knock 
of Alves is to be compared to Balrinnes or Ben-a-chi. 
They were of gold and silver, and were fretted like 
the west window of the Chanry Kirk, with wreaths of 
flowers composed of diamonds and precious stones of 
all manner of beautiful colors. The key-stones of the 
arches above, instead of coats of arms and other de 
vices, were ornamented with clusters of diamonds in 
the same manner. And from the middle of the roof, 
where the principal arches met, was hung by a gold 
chain, an immense lamp of one hollowed pearl, per 
fectly transparent, in the midst of which was sus 
pended a large carbuncle, that by the power of magic 
continually turned round, and shed over all the hall a 
clear and mild light like the setting sun ; but the hall 
was so large, and these dazzling objects so far removed, 

* The cathedral of Elgin naturally enough furnished sim 
iles to a man who had never in his life been twenty miles 
distant from it. 


that their blended radiance cast no more than a pleas 
ing lustre, and excited no more than agreeable sensa 
tions in the eyes of Child Rowland. 

The furniture of the hall was suitable to its architec 
ture ; and at the farther end, under a splendid canopy, 
seated on a gorgeous sofa of velvet, silk, and gold, and 
" kembing her yellow hair wi' a silver kemb," 

" There was his sister burd Ellen ; 25 

She stood up him before." 

" ' God rue on thee, poor luckless fode ! 
What has thou to do here ? 

" 'And hear ye this, my youngest brither, 

Why badena ye at hame ? so 

Had ye a hunder and thousand lives, 
Ye canna brook ane o' them. 

" And sit thou down ; and wae, O wae 

That ever thou was born ; 
For come the King o' Elfland in, 35 

Thy leccam is forlorn ! ' " 

A long conversation then takes place ; Child Row 
land tells her the news [of merry Carlisle,] and of his 
own expedition ; and concludes with the observation, 
that, after this long and fatiguing journey to the castle 
of the king of Elfland, he is very hungry. 

Burd Ellen looked wistfully and mournfully at him, 
and shook her head, but said nothing. Acting under 
the influence of a magic which she could not resist, 
she arose, and brought him a golden bowl full of bread 
and milk, which she presented to him with the same 
timid, tender, and anxious expression of solicitude. 


Remembering the instructions of the Warluck Mer 
lin, " Burd Ellen," said Child Rowland, " I will neither 
taste nor touch till I have set thee free ! " Immedi 
ately the folding-doors burst open with tremendous 
violence, and in came the king of Elfland, 

With '/,/,/<?, and fum ! 

I smell the blood of a Christian man ! 
Be he dead, be he living, wi' my brand 

I'll clash his harns frae his harn-pan ! '" *o 

" Strike, then, Bogle of Hell, if thou darest ! " ex 
claimed the undaunted Child Rowland, starting up, 
and drawing the good claymore, [Excalibar,] that 
never struck in vain. 

A furious combat ensued, and the king of Elfland 
was felled to the ground ; but Child Rowland spared 
him on condition that he should restore to him his two 
brothers, who lay in a trance in a corner of the hall, 
and his sister, the fair burd Ellen. The king of 
Elfland then produced a small crystal phial, containing 
a bright red liquor, with which he anointed the lips, 
nostrils, eye-lids, ears, and finger-ends of the two young 
men, who immediately awoke as from a profound sleep, 
during which their souls had quitted their bodies, and 
they had seen, &c., &c., &c. So they all four returned 
in triumph to [merry Carlisle.] 

Such was the rude outline of the romance of Child 
Rowland, as it was told to me when I was about seven 
or eight years old, by a country tailor then at work in 
my father's house. He was an ignorant and dull good 
sort of honest man, who seemed never to have ques 
tioned the truth of what he related. Where the et 


costeras are put down, many curious particulars have 
been omitted, because I was afraid of being deceived 
by my memory, and substituting one thing for another. 
It is right also to admonish the reader, that the 
Warluck Merlin, Child Rowland, and Burd Ellen, 
were the only names introduced in his recitation ; and 
that the others, inclosed within brackets, are assumed 
upon the authority of the locality given to the story 
by the mention of Merlin. In every other respect I 
have been as faithful as possible. 



The ballad of Rosmer is found in Danish, Swedish, 
Faroish, and Norse. All the questions bearing upon 
its origin, and the relations of the various forms in 
which the story exists, are amply discussed by Grundt- 
vig, vol. ii. p. 72. Three versions of the Danish bal 
lad are given by Vedel, all of which Jamieson has 
translated. The following is No. 31 in Abrahamson. 

THERE dwalls a lady in Danmarck, 

Lady Hillers lyle men her ca' ; 
And she's gar'd bigg a new castell, 

That shines o'er Danmarck a'. 

Her dochter was stown awa frae her ; 

She sought for her wide-whare ; 
But the mair she sought, and the less she fand, 

That wirks her sorrow and care. 

And she's gar'd bigg a new ship, 

Wi' vanes o' flaming goud, 10 

Wi' mony a knight and mariner, 

Sae stark in need bestow'd. 

She's followed her sons down to the strand, 

That chaste and noble fre ; 
And wull and waif for eight lang years i& 

They sail'd upon the sea. 


And eight years wull and waif they sail'd, 
O' months that seem'd sae lang ; 

Syne they sail'd afore a high castell, 
And to the land can gang. 

And the young lady Svane lyle, 
In the bower that was the best, 

Says, " Wharfrae cam thir frem swains, 
Wi' us this night to guest ? " 

Then up and spak her youngest brither, 

Sae wisely ay spak he ; 
" We are a widow's three poor sons, 
Lang wilder'd on the sea. 

" In Danmarck were we born and bred, 

Lady Hillers lyle was our mither ; 
Our sister frae us was stown awa, 
We findna whare or whither." 

u In Danmarck were ye born and bred ? 

Was Lady Hillers your mither ? 
I can nae langer heal frae thee, 
Thou art my youngest brither. 

" And hear ye this, my youngest brither : 

Why bade na ye at name ? 
Had ye a hunder and thousand lives, 
Ye canna brook ane o' them." 

She's set him in the weiest nook 

She in the house can meet ; 
She's bidden him for the high God's sake 

Nouther to laugh ne greet. 


Rosmer hame frae Zealand came, 45 

And he took on to bann : 
" I smell fu' weel, by my right hand, 
That here is a Christian man." 

" There flew a bird out o'er the house, 

Wi' a man's bane in his mouth ; 

He coost it in, and I cast it out, 
As fast as e'er I couth." 

But wilyly she can Rosmer win ; 

And clapping him tenderly, 
" It's here is come my sister-son ; 55 

Gin I lose him, I'll die. 

" It's here is come, my sister-son, 
Frae baith our fathers' land ; 
And I ha'e pledged him faith and troth, 
That ye will not him bann." so 

44 And is he come, thy sister-son, 

Frae thy father's land to thee ? 
Then I will swear my highest aith, 
He's dree nae skaith frae me." 

'Twas then the high king Rosmer, os 

He ca'd on younkers twae: 
" Ye bid proud Svane lyle's sister-son 
To the chalmer afore me gae." 

It was Svan& lyle's sister-son, 

Whan afore Rosmer he wan, TO 

His heart it quook, and his body shook, 

Sae fley'd, he scarce dow stand. 


Sae Rosmer took her sister-son, 

Set him upon his knee ; 
He clappit him sae luifsomely, I 

He turned baith blue and blae. 

And up and spak she, Svane lyle ; 

" Sir Rosmer, ye're nae to learn 

That your ten fingers arena sma, 

To clap sae little a bairn." 8 

There was he till, the fifthen year, 
He green'd for hame and land : 
" Help me now, sister Svane lyle, 
To be set on the white sand." 

It was proud Lady Svane lyle, 8 

Afore Rosmer can stand : 
" This younker sae lang in the sea has been, 
He greens for hame and land." 

" Gin the younker sae lang in the sea has been, 
And greens for hame and land, 

Then I'll gie him a kist wi' goud, 
Sae fitting till his hand." 

" And will ye gi'e him a kist wi' goud, 

Sae fitting till his hand ? 
Then hear ye, my noble heartis dear, u 

Ye bear them baith to land." 

Then wrought proud Lady Svane lyle 

What Rosmer little wist ; 
For she's tane out the goud sae red, 

And kid hersel i' the kist. 101 


He's ta'en the man upon his back ; 

The kist in his mouth took he; 
And he has gane the lang way up 

Frae the bottom o' the sea. 

" Now I ha'e borne thee to the land ; 105 

Thou seest baith sun and moon ; 
Namena Lady Svane for thy highest God, 
I beg thee as a boon." 

Rosmer sprang i' the saut sea out, 

And jawp'd it up i' the sky ; 110 

But whan he cam till the castell in, 

Nae Svane lyle could he spy. 

Whan he came till the castell in, 

His dearest awa was gane ; 
Like wood he sprang the castell about, us 

On the rock o' the black flintstane. 

Glad they were in proud Hillers lyle's house, 

Wi' welcome joy and glee ; 
Hame to their friends her bairns were come, 

That had lang been in th< sea. 120 

VOL. i. 17 


From Scottish Traditionary Versions of Anci&nt Ballads, Percy 
Society, xvii. p. 11. 

TAKE warnin', a' ye ladyes fair, 

That wear gowd on your hair ; 
Come never unto Charter-woods, 

For Tam-a-line he's there. 

Even about that knicht's middle 

O' siller bells are nine ; 
Nae ane comes to Charter-woods, 

And a may returns agen. 

Ladye Margaret sits in her bouir door, 

Sewing at her silken seam ; 10 

And she lang'd to gang to Charter woods, 
To pou the roses green. 

She hadna pou'd a rose, a rose, 

Nor braken a branch but ane, 
Till by it came him true Tam-a-line, is 

Says, " Layde, lat alane. 

" O why pou ye the rose, the rose ? 

Or why brake ye the tree ? 
Or why come ye to Charter-woods, 
Without leave ask'd of me ? " 20 

TAM-A-LINE. 259 

" I will pou the rose, the rose, 

And I will brake the tree ; 

Charter-woods are a' my ain, 

I'll ask nae leave o' thee." 

He's taen her by the milk-white hand, 25 

And by the grass-green sleeve ; 
And laid her low on gude green wood, 

At her he spier'd nae leave. 

When he had got his will o' her, 

His will as he had ta'en, 90 

He's ta'en her by the middle srna', 

Set her to feet again. 

She turn'd her richt and round about, 

To spier her true love's name, 
But naething heard she, nor naething saw, ss 

As a' the woods grew dim. 

Seven days she tarried there, 

Saw neither sun nor muin ; 
At length, by a sma' glimmerin' licht, 

Came thro' the wood her lane. 

When she came to her father's court, 

Was fine as ony queen ; 
But when eight months were past and gane, 

Got on the gown o' green. 

Then out it speaks an eldren knicht, 

As he stood at the yett ; 
Our king's dochter, she gaes wi' bairn, 

And we'll get a' the wyte." 

260 TAM-A-LINE. 

" O baud your tongue, ye eldren man, 

And bring me not to shame ; 

Although that I do gang wi' bairn, 

Yese naeways get the blame. 

" Were my love but an earthly man, 

As he's an elfin knicht, 
I wadna gie my ain true luve, 
For a' that's in my sicht." 

Then out it speaks her brither dear, 

He meant to do her harm, 
" There is an herb in Charter-woods 
Will twine you an' the bairn." 

She's taen her mantle her about, 
Her coiffer by the band ; 

And she is on to Charter-woods, 
As fast as she coud gang. 

She hadna poud a rose, a rose, 
Nor braken a branch but ane, 

Till by it came him, Tam-a-Line, 
Says, " Ladye, lat alane." 

" O ! why pou ye the pile, Margaret, 

The pile o' the gravil green, 
For to destroy the bonny bairn 
That we got us between ? 

" O ! why pou ye the pile, Margaret, 

The pile o' the gravil gray, 

For to destroy the bonny bairn 

That we got in our play ? 

TAM-A-LINE. 261 

" For if it be a knave bairn, 
He's heir o' a' my land ; 
But if it be a lass bairn, 

In red gowd she shall gang." so 

" If my luve were an earthly man, 

As he's an elfin grey, 
I coud gang bound, luve, for your sake, 
A twalmonth and a day." 

" Indeed your luve's an earthly man, M 

The same as well as thee ; 
And lang I've haunted Charter-woods, 
A' for your fair bodie." 

" O ! tell me, tell me, Tam-a-Line, 

O ! tell, an' tell me true ; 90 

Tell me this nicht, an' mak' nae lee, 
What pedigree are you ? " 

" O ! I hae been at gude church-door, 

An' I've got Christendom ; 
I'm the Earl o' Forbes' eldest son, 96 

An' heir ower a' his land. 

; ' When I was young, o' three years old, 

Muckle was made o' me ; 
My stepmither put on my claithes, 

An' ill, ill, sained she me. 100 

u Ae fatal morning I gaed out, 

Dreading nae injurie ; 
And thinking lang, fell soun asleep, 
Beneath an apple tree. 

262 TAM-A-LINE. 

" Then by it came the Elfin Queen, 

And laid her hand on me ; 
And from that time since e'er I mind, 
I've been in her companie. 

" O Elfin it's a bonny place, 

In it fain wad I dwell; 
But aye at ilka seven years' end, 

They pay a tiend to hell, 
And I'm sae fou o' flesh an blude, 

I'm sair fear'd for mysell." 

" O tell me, tell me, Tam-a-Line, 

O tell, an' tell me true ; 
Tell me this nieht, an' mak' nae lee, 
What way I'll borrow you ? " 

" The morn is Hallowe'en nicht, 

The Elfin court will ride, 
Through England, and thro' a' Scotland, 
And through the warld wide. 

" O they begin at sky sett in, 
Ride a' the evenin' tide ; 
And she that will her true love borrow, 
At Miles-cross will him bide. 

" Ye'll do ye down to Miles-cross, 
Between twall hours and ane ; 
And full your hands o' holie water, 
And cast your compass roun'. 

" Then the first ane court that comes you till, 
Is published king and queen ; 

TAM-A-LINE. 263 

The neist ane court that comes you till, 
It is maidens mony ane. 

" The neist ane court that comes you till, ias 

Is footmen, grooms, and squires ; 
The neist ane court that comes you till, 
Is knichts ; and I'll be there. 

" I Tam-a-Line, on milk-white steed, 

A gowd star on my crown ; n 

Because I was an earthly knicht, 
Got that for a renown. 

" And out at my steed's right nostril, 

He'll breathe a fiery flame ; 
Ye'll loot you low, and sain yoursel, i 

And ye'll be busy then. 

" Ye'll tak' my horse then by the head, 

And lat the bridal fa'; 
The Queen o' Elfin she'll cry out, 

* True Tam-a-Line's awa'. we 

" Then I'll appear into your arms 

Like the wolf that ne'er wad tame ; 
Ye'll haud me fast, lat me not gae, 
Case we ne'er meet again. 

" Then I'll appear into your arms IM 

Like fire that burns sae bauld ; 
Ye'll haud me fast, lat me not gae, 
I'll be as iron cauld. 

" Then I'll appear into your arms 

Like the adder an' the snake ; 100 

264 TAM-A-LINE. 

Ye'll baud me fast, lat me not gae, 
I am your warld's maike. 

" Then I'll appear into your arms 

Like to the deer sae wild ; 
Ye'll haud me fast, lat me not gae, ies 

And I'll father your child. 

" And I'll appear into your arms 

Like to a silken string ; 
Ye'll haud me fast, lat me not gae, 
Till ye see the fair mornin'. iro 

" And I'll appear into your arms 

Like to a naked man ; 
Ye'll haud me fast, lat me not gae, 
And wi' you I'll gae hame." 

Then she has done her to Miles-cross, 175 

Between twal hours an' ane ; 
And filled her hands o' holie water, 

And kiest her compass roun'. 

The first ane court that came her till, 

Was published king and queen ; iso 

The niest ane court that came her till, 
Was maidens mony ane. 

The niest ane court that came her till, 
Was footmen, grooms, and squires; 

The niest ane court that came her till, iss 

Was knichts ; and he was there ! 

True Tam-a-Line, on milk-white steed, 
A gowd star on his crown ; 

TAM-A-LINE. 265 

Because he was an earthly man, 
Got that for a renown. 190 

And out at the steed's right nostril, 

He breath'd a fiery flatne ; 
She loots her low, an' sains hersel, 

And she was busy then. 

She's taen the horse then by the head, 195 

And loot the bridle fa'; 
The Queen o' Elfin she cried out, 
" True Tam-a-Line's awa'." 

" Stay still, true Tam-a-Line," she says, 

" Till I pay you your fee ; " 200 

" His father wants not lands nor rents, 
He'll ask nae fee frae thee." 

" Gin I had kent yestreen, yestreen, 

What I ken weel the day, 
I shou'd hae taen your fu' fause heart, aoe 

Gien you a heart o' clay." 

Then he appeared into her arms 
Like the wolf that ne'er wad tame ; 

She held him fast, lat him not gae, 

Case they ne'er met again. 210 

Then he appeared into her arms 

Like the fire burning bauld ; 
She held him fast, lat him not gae, 

He was as iron cauld. 

And he appeared into her arms 215 

Like the adder an' the snake ; 

266 TAM-A-LINE. 

She held him fast, lat him not gae, 
He was her warld's maike. 

And he appeared into her arms 

Like to the deer sae wild ; 
She held him fast, lat him not gae, 

He's father o' her child. 

And he appeared into her arms 

Like to a silken string ; 
She held him fast, lat him not gae, 

Till she saw fair mornin*. 

And he appeared into her arms 

Like to a naked man ; 
She held him fast, lat him not gae, 

And wi' her he's gane hame. 

These news hae reach'd thro' a' Scotland, 

And far ayont the Tay, 
That ladye Margaret, our king's dochter, 

That nicht had gain'd her prey. 

She borrowed her love at mirk midnicht, 
Bare her young son ere day ; 

And though ye'd search the warld wide, 
Ye'll nae find sic a may. 

TOM LINN. (See p. 114.) 

THIS fragment was taken down from the recitation 
of an old woman. Maidment's New Book of Old Bal 
lads, p. 54. 

O ALL you ladies young and gay, 
Who are so sweet and fair, 

Do not go into Chaster's wood, 
For Tomlinn will be there. 

Fair Margaret sat in her bonny bower, 

Sewing her silken seam, 
And wished to be in Chaster's wood, 

Among the leaves so green. 

She let the seam fall to her foot, 

The needle to her toe, 
And she has gone to Chaster's wood, 

As fast as she could go. 

268 TOM LINN. 

When she began to pull the flowers ; 

She pull'd both red and green ; 
Then by did come, and by did go, 

Said, " Fair maid, let abene ! 

" O why pluck you the flowers, lady, 
Or why climb you the tree ? 

Or why come ye to Chaster's wood, 
Without the leave of me ? " 

" O I will pull the flowers," she said, 
" Or I will break the tree ; 

For Chaster's wood it is my own, 
I'll ask no leave at thee." 

He took her by the milk-white hand, 
And by the grass-green sleeve ; 

And laid her down upon the flowers, 
At her he ask'd no leave. 

The lady blush'd and sourly frown'd, 
And she did think great shame ; 

Says, " If you are a gentleman, 
You will tell me your name/' 

" First they call me Jack," he said, 
" And then they call'd me John ; 

But since I liv'd in the Fairy court, 
Tomlinn has always been my name. 

" So do not pluck that flower, lady, 
That has these pimples gray ; 

They would destroy the bonny babe 
That we've gotten in our play." 

TOM LINN. 269 

" O tell to me, Tomlinn," she said, 

" And tell it to me soon ; 
Was you ever at a good church door, 

Or got you Christendom ? " 

" O I have been at good church door, 45 

And oft her yetts within ; 
I was the Laird of Foulis's son, 

The heir of all his land. 

" But it fell once upon a day, 

As hunting I did ride, so 

As I rode east and west yon hill, 

Then woe did me betide. 

" O drowsy, drowsy as I was, 

Dead sleep upon me fell ; 
The Queen of Fairies she was there, M 

And took me to hersel. 

" The morn at even is Hallowe'en, 

Our Fairy court will ride, 
Through England and through Scotland both, 

Through all the world wide ; eo 

And if that ye would me borrow, 

At Rides Cross ye may bide. 

" You may go into the Miles Moss, 

Between twelve hours and one ; 
Take holy water in your hand, ea 

And cast a compass round. 

" The first court that comes along, 
You'll let them all pass by ; 

270 TOM LINN. 

The next court that comes along, 
Salute them reverently. 

" The next court that comes along, 
Is clad in robes of green ; 

And it's the head court of them all, 
For in it rides the Queen. 

" And I upon a milk-white steed, 
With a gold star in my crown ; 

Because I am an earthly man, 
I'm next the Queen in renown. 

" Then seize upon me with a spring, 
Then to the ground I'll fa' ; 

And then you'll hear a rueful cry, 
That Tomlinn is awa'. 

" Then I'll grow in your arms two, 

Like to a savage wild ; 
But hold me fast, let me not go, 

I'm father of your child. 

" I'll grow into your arms two 
Like an adder, or a snake ; 

But hold me fast, let me not go, 
I'll be your earthly maik. 

" I'll grow into your arms two 
Like ice on frozen lake ; 

But hold me fast, let me not go, 
Or from your goupen break. 


" I'll grow into your arms two, 

Like iron in strong fire ; 
But hold me fast, let me not go, 

Then you'll have your desire." 

And its next night into Miles Moss, 
Fair Margaret has gone ; 100 

When lo she stands beside Rides Cross, 
Between twelve hours and one. 

There's holy water in her hand, 

She casts a compass round ; 
And presently a Fairy band ice 

Comes riding o'er the mound. 

THIS seems to be the most appropriate connection 
for a short fragment from Maidment's North Countrie 
Garland, (p. 21.) It was taken down from the recita 
tion of a lady who had heard it sung in her childhood. 


BURD Ellen sits in the bower windowe, 

With a double laddy double, and for the double dow, 

Twisting the red silk and the blue, 
With the double rose and the May-hay. 


And whiles she twisted, and whiles she twan, 

With a double, &c. 
And whiles the tears fell down amang, 

With the double, &c. 

Till once there by cam young Tamlane, 

With a double, &c. 

" Come light, oh light, and rock your young son ! 
With the double, &c. 

" If you winna rock him, you may let him rair, 

With a double, &c. 
For I hae rockit my share and mair." 

With the double, &c. 

Young Tamlane to the seas he's gane, 

With a double laddy double, and for the double dow, 
And a' women's curse in his company's gane, 

With the double rose, and the May-hay. 20 

ALS Y YOD ON AY MOUND AY. (See p. 126.) 

IN the manuscript from which these verses are 
taken, they form the preface to a long strain of in 
comprehensible prophecies of the same description as 
those which are appended to Thomas of Ersyldoune. 
Whether the two portions belong together, or not, 
(and it will be seen that they are ill enough joined,) 
the first alone requires to be cited here for the purpose 
of comparison with the Wee Wee Man. The whole 
piece has been twice printed, first by Finlay, in his 
Scottish Ballads, (ii. 163,) and afterwards, by a person 
who was not aware that he had been anticipated, in 
the Retrospective Review, Second Series, vol. ii. p. 326. 
Both texts are in places nearly unintelligible, and are 
evidently full of errors, part of which we must ascribe 
to the incompetency of the editors. Finlay 's is here 
adopted as on the whole the best, but it has received 
a few corrections from the other, and one or two con 
jectural emendations. 

ALS y yod on ay Mounday 
Bytwene Wyltinden and Wall, 

The ane after brade way, 

Ay litel man y mette with alle, 

The leste yat ever y, sathe to say, . * 

Oither in bowr, either in halle ; 

His robe was neither grene na gray, 

Bot alle yt was of riche palle. 
VOL. i. 18 


On me he cald, and bad me bide ; 

Well stille y stode ay litel space ; 10 

Fra Lanchestre the parke syde 

Yeen he come, wel fair his pase. 
He hailsed me with mikel pride ; 

Ic haved wel mykel ferly wat he was ; 
I saide, " Wel mote the betyde, ifi 

That litel man with large face." 

I beheld that litel man 

Bi the strete als we gon gae ; 
His berd was syde ay large span, 

And glided als the fether of pae ; 20 

His heved was wyte als ony swan, 

His hegehen was gret and grai als so ; 
Brues lange, wel I the can 

Merk it to fize inches and mae. 

Armes scort, for sothe I saye, 25 

Ay span seemed thaem to bee : 
Handes brade vytouten nay, 

And fingeres lange, he scheued me. 
Ay stane he tok op thar it lay, 

And castit forth that I moth see ; ao 

Ay merk-soot of large way 

Bifore me strides he castit three. 

Wel stille I stod als did the stane, 

To loke him on thouth me nouth lang ; 

His robe was alle gold begane, ss 

Wel craftelike maked, I understande ; 

Finlay, 36, crustlike. 


Botones asurd, everlk ane, 

Fra his elbouthe ontil his hande ; 

Erdelik man was he nane ; 

That in myn hert ich onderstande. <o 

Til him I sayde ful sone on ane, 

For forthirmar I wald him fraine, 
" Gladli wald I wit thi name, 

And I wist wat me mouthe gaine ; 
Thou ert so litel of fleshe and bane, 45 

And so mikel of mith and mayne, 
War vones thou, litel man, at hame ? 

Wit of thee I wald ful faine." 

" Thoth I be litel and lith, 

Am y noth wytouten wane ; o 

Ferli framed thou wat hi hith, 

That thou salt noth wit my name ; 
My wonige stede ful wel es dyght, 

Nou sone thou salt se at hame." 
Til him I sayde, " For Godes mith, 

Let me forth myn erand gane." 

" The thar noth of thin erand lette, 

Thouth thou come ay stonde wit me, 
Forther salt thou noth bi sette, 

Bi miles twa noyther bi three." 60 

Na linger durst I for him lette, 

But forth y funded wyt that free ; 
Stintid vs brok no beck ; 

Ferlich me thouth hu so mouth bee. 

39. Clidelik. 43, Glalli wild. 62, That, qy. YatV; with. 
63, dygh. 


He vent forth, als y you say, 66 

In at ay yate, y vnderstande ; 
In til ay yate wvndouten nay ; 

It to se thouth me nouth lang. 
The bankers on the binkes lay, 

And fair lordes sett y fonde ; ft) 

In ilka ay him y herd ay lay, 

And leuedys soth meloude sange. 

[Here there seems to be a break, and a new start 
made, with a tale told not on a Monday, but on a 

Lithe, bothe zonge and aide : 

Of ay worde y will you saye, 
Ay litel tale that me was tald 

Erli on ay Wedenesdaye. 
A mody barn, that was ful bald, 

My friend that y frained aye, 
Al my gesing he me tald, 

And galid me als we went bi waye. 

" Miri man, that es so wyth, 

Of ay thing gif me answere : 
For him that mensked man wyt mith, 
Wat sal worth of this were ? &c. 

68, south. 

THE ELPHIN KNIGHT. (See p. 128s) 

" THE following transcript is a literal copy from the 
original in the Pepysian library, Cambridge." Moth- 
erwelTs Minstrelsy, Appendix, p. i. 

"A Proper New BaUad, entituled, The Wind hath 
blown my Plaid away, or r A Discourse betwixt a young 
Maid and the Elphin-Knight ; To be sung with its 
own pleasant New Tune." 

THE Elphin Knight sits on yon hill, 

Ba, ba, ba, lilli ba, 
He blowes his horn both loud and shril, 

The wind hath blown my plaid awa. 

He blowes it East, he blowes it West, 

Ba, ba, &c. 
He blowes it where he lyketh best. 

The wind, &c. 

" I wish that horn were in my kist, 

Ba, la, &c. 
Yea, and the knight in my annes two." 

The wind, &c. 


She had no sooner these words said, 

Ba, ba, &c. 
When that the knight came to her bed. 

The wind, &c. 

" Thou art over young a maid,'* quoth he, 

Ba, ba, &c. 

" Married with me thou il wouldst be." 
The wind, &c. 

" I have a sister younger than I, 

Ba, ba, &c. 
And she was married yesterday." 

The wind, &c. 

" Married with me if thou wouldst be, 

Ba, la, &c. 
A courtesie thou must do to me. 

The wind, &c. 

" For thou must shape a sark to me, 

Ba, ba, &c. 

Without any cut or heme," quoth he. 
The wind, &c. 

" Thou must shape it needle-and sheerlesse, 

Ba, ba, &c. 

And also sue it needle-threedlesse." 
The wind, &c. 

" If that piece of courtesie I do to thee, 

Ba, ba, &c. 
Another thou must do to me. 

The wind, &c. 


" I have an aiker of good ley-land, 

Ba, ba, &c. 
Which lyeth low by yon sea-strand. 

The wind, &c. 

" For thou must cure it with thy horn, 45 

Bo., ba, &c. 
So thou must sow it with thy corn. 

The wind, &c. 

" And bigg a cart of stone and lyme, 

Ba, ba, &c. w 

Robin Redbreast he must trail it name. 
The wind, &c. 

" Thou must barn it in a mouse-holl, 

Ba, ba, &c. 

And thrash it into thy shoes' soil. 

The wind, &c. 

" And thou must winnow it in thy looff, 

Ba, la, &c. 
And also seek it in thy glove. 

The wind, &c. oo 

" For thou must bring it over the sea, 

Ba, ba, &c. 
And thou must bring it dry home to me. 

The wind, &c. 

" When thou hast gotten thy turns well done, 65 

Ba, ba, &c. 
Then come to me and get thy sark then. 

The wind, &c." 


" I'l not quite my plaid for my life, 

Ba, ba, &c. 
It haps my seven bairns and my wife. 

The wind shall not blow my plaid awa" 

" My maidenhead I'l then keep still, 

Ba, ba, &c. 
Let the Elphin Knight do what he will. 

The wind's not blown my plaid awa" 

" My plaid awa, my plaid awa, 
And o'er the hill and far awa, 

And far awa, to Norrowa, 

My plaid shall not be blown awa." 

HEUGH. See p. 137. 

"A SONG above 500 years old, made by the old 
mountain-bard, Duncan Frasier, living on Cheviot, 
A. D. 1270." 

This ballad, first published in Hutchinson's History 
of Northumberland^ was the composition of Mr. Robert 
Lambe, vicar of Norham. Several stanzas are, how 
ever, adopted from some ancient tale. It has been 
often printed, and is now taken from Eitson's North 
umberland Garland. 

The similar story of The Worme ofLambton, versified 
by the Rev. J. Watson (compare Ormekampen and the 
cognate legends, Grundtvig, i. 343, also vol. viii. p. 
128, of this collection), may be seen in Richardson's 
Borderer's Table-Book, viii. 129, or in Moore's Pic 
torial Book of Ancient Ballad Poetry, page 784. With 
the tale of the Lambton Worm of Durham agrees in 
many particulars that of the Worm of Linton in Rox 
burghshire. (See Scott's introduction to Kempion, and 
Sir C. Sharpe's Bishopric Garland, p. 21.) It is high 
ly probable that the mere coincidence of sound with 
Linden- Worm caused this last place to be selected as 
the scene of such a story. 

THE king is gone from Bambrough Castle, 

Long may the princess mourn ; 
Long may she stand on the castle wall, 

Looking for his return. 


She has knotted the keys upon a string, 

And with her she has them ta'en, 
She has cast them o'er her left shoulder, 

And to the gate she is gane. 

She tripped out, she tripped in, 

She tript into the yard ; 10 

But it was more for the king's sake, 

Than for the queen's regard. 

It fell out on a day, the king 

Brought the queen with him home ; 

And all the lords in our country is 

To welcome them did come. 

" O welcome father ! " the lady cries, 

" Unto your halls and bowers ; 
And so are you, my step-mother, 

For all that's here is yours." ao 

A lord said, wondering while she spake, 

" This princess of the North 
Surpasses all of female kind 

In beauty, and in worth." 

The envious queen replied, " At least, 25 

You might have excepted me ; 
In a few hours, I will her bring 

Down to a low degree. 

" I will her liken to a laidley worm, 

That warps about the stone, so 

v. 21-28. Compare Young Waters, (iii. 90,) v. 21-28, and 
Young Beichan and Susie Pye, (iv. 7,) v. 113-124. 


And not till Childy Wynd comes back, 
Shall she again be won." 

The princess stood at the bower door 

Laughing, who could her blame ? 
But e'er the next day's sun went down, as 

A long worm she became. 

For seven miles east, and seven miles west, 
And seven miles north, and south, 

No blade of grass or corn could grow, 

So venomous was her mouth. 

The milk of seven stately cows 

(It was costly her to keep) 
Was brought her daily, which she drank 

Before she went to sleep. 

At this day may be seen the cave 45 

Which held her folded up, 
And the stone trough, the very same 

Out of which she did sup. 

Word went east, and word went west, 

And word is gone over the sea, ao 

That a laidley worm in Spindleston-Heughs 
Would ruin the North Country. 

Word went east, and word went west, 

And over the sea did go ; 
The Child of Wynd got wit of it, 

Which filled his heart with woe. 

v. 31. Childy Wynd is obviously a corruption of Child 


He called straight his merry men all, 

They thirty were and three : 
" I wish I were at Spindleston, 

This desperate worm to see. 

" We have no time now here to waste, 

Hence quickly let us sail : 
My only sister Margaret, 

Something, I fear, doth ail." 

They built a ship without delay, 

With masts of the rown tree, 
With flutring sails of silk so fine, 

And set her on the sea. 

They went on board ; the wind with speed, 

Blew them along the deep ; 
At length they spied an huge square tower 

On a rock high and steep. 

The sea was smooth, the weather clear; 

When they approached nigher, 
King Ida's castle they well knew, 

And the banks of Bambroughshire. 

The queen look'd out at her bower window, 

To see what she could see ; 
There she espied a gallant ship 

Sailing upon the sea. 

When she beheld the silken sails, 

Full glancing in the sun, 
To sink the ship she sent away 

Her witch wives every one. 

83, went. 


The spells were vain ; the hags returned 85 

To the queen in sorrowful mood, 
Crying that witches have no power 

Where there is rown-tree wood. 

Her last effort, she sent a boat, 

Which in the haven lay, w 

With armed men to board the ship, 

But they were driven away. 

The worm lept out, the worm lept down, 

She plaited round the stone ; 
And ay as the ship came to the land 96 

She banged it off again. 

The Child then ran out of her reach 

The ship on Budley-sand, 
And jumping into the shallow sea, 

Securely got to land. 100 

And now he drew his berry-brown sword, 

And laid it on her head ; 
And swore, if she did harm to him, 

That he would strike her dead. 

" O quit thy sword, and bend thy bow, 105 

And give me kisses three ; 
For though I am a poisonous worm, 

No hurt I'll do to thee. 

" O quit thy sword, and bend thy bow, 

And give me kisses three ; 110 

If I'm not won e'er the sun go down, 
Won I shall never be." 

101, berry-broad. 


He quitted his sword, and bent Ms bow, 

He gave her kisses three ; 
She crept into a hole a worm, us 

But out stept a lady. 

No clothing had this lady fine, 

To keep her from the cold ; 
He took his mantle from him about, 

And round her did it fold. 120 

He has taken his mantle from him about, 

And in it he wrapt her in, 
And they are up to Bambrough castle, 

As fast as they can win. 

His absence, and her serpent shape, 125 

The king had long deplored ; 
He now rejoyced to see them both 

Again to him restored. 

The queen they wanted, whom they found 

All pale, and sore afraid, 130 

Because she knew her power must yield 
To Childy Wynd's, who said, 

" Woe be to thee, thou wicked witch ; 

An ill death mayest thou dee ; 
As thou my sister hast lik'ned, iss 

So lik'ned shalt thou be. 

" I will turn you into a toad, 

That on the ground doth wend ; 
And won, won shalt thou never be, 

Till this world hath an end." no 


Now on the sand near Ida's tower, 

She crawls a loathsome toad, 
And venom spits on every maid 

She meets upon her road. 

The virgins all of Bambrough town i 

Will swear that they have seen 
This spiteful toad, of monstrous size, 

Whilst walking they have been. 

All folks believe within the shire 

This story to be true, IEO 

And they all run to Spindleston, 

The cave and trough to view. 

This fact now Duncan Frasier, 

Of Cheviot, sings in rhime, 
Lest Bambroughshire men should forget i 

Some part of it in time. 

LORD DINGWALL. (See p. 152.) 

From Buchan's Ancient Ballads and Songs of the North of 
Scotland, (i. 204.) 

WE were sisters, sisters seven, 

Bowing down, bowing down ; 
The fairest women under heaven. 

And aye the birks a-bowing. 

They kiest kevels them amang, 
Wha wou'd to the grenewood gang. 

The kevels they gied thro' the ha', 5 

And on the youngest it did fa'. 

Now she must to the grenewood gang, 
To pu' the nuts in grenewood hang. 

She hadna tarried an hour but ane, 

Till she met wi' a highlan' groom. 10 

He keeped her sae late and lang, 

Till the evening set, and birds they sang. 

He ga'e to her at their parting, 
A chain o' gold, and gay gold ring : 


And three locks o' his yellow hair : 15 

Bade her keep them for evermair. 

When six lang months were come and gane, 
A courtier to this lady came. 

Lord Dingwall courted this lady gay, 

And so he set their wedding-day. ao 

A little boy to the ha' was sent, 
To bring her horse was his intent. 

As she was riding the way along, 
She began to make a heavy moan. 

" What ails you, lady," the boy said, 25 

" That ye seem sae dissatisfied V 

" Are the bridle reins for you too strong? 
Or the stirrups for you too long ? " 

" But, little boy, will ye tell me, 
The fashions that are in your countrie ? " ao 

" The fashions in our ha' I'll tell, 
And o' them a' I'll warn you well. 

" When ye come in upon the floor, 
His mither will meet you wi' a golden chair. 

" But be ye maid, or be ye nane, 35 

Unto the high seat make ye boua 

" Lord Dingwall aft has been beguil'd, 

By girls whom young men hae defiled. 
VOL. i. 19 


"He's cutted the paps frae their breast bane, 
And sent them back to their ain hame." 

When she came in upon the floor, 
His mother met her wi' a golden chair. 

But to the high seat she made her boun' : 
She knew that maiden she was nane. 

When night was come, they went to bed, 
And ower her breast his arm he laid. 

He quickly jumped upon the floor, 
And said, " I've got a vile rank whore." 

Unto his mother he made his moan, 
Says, " Mother dear, I am undone. 

" Ye've aft tald, when I brought them hame, 
Whether they were maid or nane. 

" I thought I'd gotten a maiden bright, 
I've gotten but a waefu' wight. 

" I thought I'd gotten a maiden clear, 
But gotten but a vile rank whore." 

" When she came in upon the floor, 
I met her wi' a golden chair. 

" But to the high seat she made her boun', 
Because a maiden she was nane." 

" I wonder wha's tauld tnat gay ladie, 
The fashion into our countrie." 


" It is your little boy I blame, 
Whom ye did send to bring her hame." 

Then to the lady she did go, w 

And said, " O Lady, let me know 

u Who has defiled your fair bodie ? 
Ye're the first that has beguiled me." 

" O we were sisters, sisters seven, 
The fairest women under heaven ; 70 

" And we kiest kevels us amang, 
Wha wou'd to the grenewood gang ; 

" For to pu' the finest flowers, 
To put around our summer bowers. 

" I was the youngest o' them a', 

The hardest fortune did me befa'. 

" Unto the grenewood I did gang, 
And pu'd the nuts as they down hang. 

* I hadna stay'd an hour but ane, 
Till I met wi' a highlan' groom. so 

" He keeped me sae late and lang, 
Till the evening set, and birds they sang. 

" He gae to me at our parting, 
A chain of gold, and gay gold ring : 


" And three locks o' his yellow hair : 9 

Bade me keep them for evermair. 

" Then for to show I make nae lie, 
Look ye my trunk, and ye will see." 

Unto the trunk then she did go, 

To see if that were true or no. 

And aye she sought, and aye she flang, 
Till these four things came to her hand. 

Then she did to her am son go, 

And said, " My son, ye' 11 let me know. 

" Ye will tell to me this thing : 95 

What did yo wi' my wedding-ring ? " 

" Mother dear, I' 11 tell nae lie : 
I gave it to a gay ladie. 

" I would gie a' my ha's and towers, 
I had this bird within my bowers." 100 

" Keep well, keep well, your lands and strands, 
. Ye hae that bird within your hands. 

" Now, my son, to your bower ye' 11 go : 
Comfort your ladie, she's full o' woe." 

Now when nine months were come and gane, i< 
The lady she brought name a son. 


It was written on his breast-bane, 
Lord Dingwall was his father's name. 

He's ta'en his young son in his arms, 

And aye he prais'd his lovely charms. 110 

And he has gi'en him kisses three, 
And doubled them ower to his ladie. 

HYNDE ETIN. (Seep. 179.) 

From Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 228. 

MAY MARG'BET stood in her bouer door, 
Kaiming doun her yellow hair ; 

She spied some nuts growin in the wud, 
And wish'd that she was there. 

She has plaited her yellow locks 

A little abune her bree ; 
And she has kilted her petticoats 

A little below her knee ; 
And she's aff to Mulberry wud, 

As fast as she could gae. 

She had na pu'd a nut, a nut, 

A nut but barely ane, 
Till up started the Hynde Etin, 

Says, Lady ! let thae alane." 

" Mulberry wuds are a' my ain ; 

My father gied them me, 
To sport and play when I thought lang ; 
And they sail na be tane by thee." 


And ae she pu'd the tither berrie, 

Na thinking o' the skaith ; 
And said, " To wrang ye, Hynde Etin, 

I wad be unco laith." 

But he has tane her by the yellow locks, 

And tied her till a tree, 
And said, " For slichting my commands, 

An ill death shall ye dree." 

He pu'd a tree out o' the wud, 

The biggest that was there ; 
And he howkit a cave monie fathoms deep, 

And put May Marg'ret there. 

" Now rest ye there, ye saucie may ; 

My wuds are free for thee ; 
And gif I tak ye to mysell, 
The better ye' 11 like me." 

Na rest, na rest May Marg'ret took, 

Sleep she got never nane ; 
Her back lay on the cauld, cauld floor, 

Her head upon a stane. 

" O tak me out," May Marg'ret cried, 

O tak me hame to thee ; 
And I sail be your bounden page 
Until the day I dee." 

He took her out o' the dungeon deep, 

And awa wi' him she's gane ; 
But sad was the day an earl's dochter 

Gaed hame wi' Hynde Etin. 



It fell out ance upon a day, 

Hynde Etin's to the hunting gane; 

And he has tane wi' him his eldest son, 
For to carry his game. 

"01 wad ask you something, father, 
An ye wadna angry be ; " 

" Ask on, ask on, my eldest son, 
Ask onie thing at me.'* 

" My mother's cheeks are aft times weet, 
Alas ! they are seldom dry ; " 

" Na wonder, na wonder, my eldest son, 
Tho' she should brast and die. 

" For your mother was an earl's dochter, 

Of noble birth and fame ; 
And now she's wife o' Hynde Etin, 
Wha ne'er got christendame. 

" But we'll shoot the laverock in the lift, 

The buntlin on the tree ; 
And ye'll tak them hame to your mother, 
And see if she'll comforted be." 

" I wad ask ye something, mother, 
An' ye wadna angry be ; " 

" Ask on, ask on, my eldest son, 
Ask onie thing at me." 


" Your cheeks they are aft times weet, 

Alas ! they're seldom dry ; " 
" Na wonder, na wonder, my eldest son, 

Tho' I should brast and die. 

" For I was ance an earl's dochter, 75 

Of noble birth and fame ; 
And now I am the wife of Hynde Etin, 
Wha ne'er got christendame." 

DAUGHTER. (See p. 192.) 

This is a translation by Jamieson {Popular Ballads 
and Songs, i. 219), of the Danish Elveskud (Abraham- 
son, i. 237). Lewis has given a version of the same 
in the Tales of Wonder, (No. 10.) The correspond 
ing Swedish ballad, The Elf- Woman and Sir Olof 
(Afzelius, iii. 165) is translated by Keightley, Fairy 
Mythology, p. 84. This ballad occurs also in Norse, 
Faroish, and Icelandic. 

Of the same class are Elfer Hill, (from the Danish, 
Jamieson, i. 225 ; from the Swedish, Keightley, 86 ; 
through the German, Tales of Wonder, No. 6 :) Sir 
Olof in the Elve-Dance, (Keightley, 82 ; Literature 
and Romance of Northern Europe, by William and 
Mary Howitt, i. 269 :) The Merman and Marstig's 
Daughter, (from the Danish, Jamieson, i. 210 ; Tales 
of Wonder, No. 11 :) the Breton tale of Lord Nann 
and the Korrigan, (Keightley, 433 :) three Slavic bal 
lads referred to by Grundtvig, (Elveskud, ii. Ill :) 
Sir Peter of Stauffenbergh and the Mermaid, (from the 
German, Jamieson, Illustrations of Northern Antiqui 
ties, 257,) and the well-known Fischer of Goethe. 


SIR OLUF the hend has ridden sae wide, 
All unto his bridal feast to bid. 

And lightly the elves, sae feat and free, 
They dance all under the greenwood tree 1 

And there danced four, and there danced five ; 
The Elf-King's daughter she reekit bilive. 

Her hand to Sir Oluf sae fair and free : 
" O welcome, Sir Oluf, come dance wi' me ! 

" O welcome, Sir Oluf! now lat thy love gae, 
And tread wi' me in the dance sae gay." 

" To dance wi' thee ne dare I, ne may ; 
The morn it is my bridal day." 

" O come, Sir Oluf, and dance wi' me ; 
Twa buckskin boots I'll give to thee ; 

" Twa buckskin boots, that sit sae fair, 
Wi' gilded spurs sae rich and rare. 

" And hear ye, Sir Oluf! come dance wi' me ; 
And a silken sark I'll give to thee ; 

" A silken sark sae white and fine, 
That my mother bleached in the moonshine." 


" I darena, I maunna come dance wi' thee ; 
For the morn my bridal day maun be." 

" O hear ye, Sir Oluf ! come dance wi' me, 
And a helmet o' goud I'll give to thee." 

" A helmet o' goud I well may ha'e ; 
But dance wi' thee ne dare I, ne may." 

" And winna thou dance, Sir Oluf, wi' me ? 
Then sickness and pain shall follow thee ! " 

She's smitten Sir Oluf it strak to his heart ; 
He never before had kent sic a smart ; 

Then lifted him up on his ambler red ; 
" And now, Sir Oluf, ride hame to thy bride." 

And whan he came till the castell yett, 
His mither she stood and leant thereat. 

" O hear ye, Sir Oluf, my ain dear son, 
Whareto is your lire sae blae and wan ? " 

" O well may my lire be wan and blae, 
For I ha'e been in the elf-womens' play." 

" O hear ye, Sir Oluf, my son, my pride, 
And what shall I say to thy young bride ? " 

" Ye'll say, that I've ridden but into the wood, 
To prieve gin my horse and hounds are good.' 


Ear on the morn, whan night was gane, 
The bride she cam wi' the bridal train. 

They skinked the mead, and they skinked the wine : 
" O whare is Sir Oluf, bridegroom mine ? " 46 

" Sir Oluf has ridden but into the wood, 
To prieve gin his horse and hounds are good." 

And she took up the scarlet red, 

And there lay Sir Oluf, and he was dead ! w 

Ear on the morn, whan it was day, 

Three likes were ta'en frae the castle away ; 

Sir Oluf the leal, and his bride sae fair, 
And his mither, that died wi' sorrow and care. 

And lightly the elves sae feat and free, 

They dance all under the greenwood tree ! 

(See p. 201.) 

(Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. il.) 

" I HAVE seven ships upon the sea, 

Laden with the finest gold, 
And mariners to wait us upon ; 
All these you may behold. 

" And I have shoes for my love's feet, 

Beaten of the purest gold, 
And lined wi' the velvet soft, 
To keep my love's feet from the cold. 

" how do you love the ship," he said, 

" Or how do you love the sea ? 
And how do you love the bold mariners 
That wait upon thee and me ? " 

" O I do love the ship," she said, 

" And I do love the sea ; 
But woe be to the dim mariners, 
That nowhere I can see." 

They had not sailed a mile awa', 

Never a mile but one, 
When she began to weep and mourn, 

And to think on her little wee son. i 


" O hold your tongue, my dear," he said, 

" And let all your weeping abee, 
For I'll soon show to you how the lilies grow 
On the banks of Italy." 

They had not sailed a mile awa', 25 

Never a mile but two, 
Until she espied his cloven foot, 

From his gay robes sticking thro'. 

They had not sailed a mile awa', 

Never a mile but three, 

When dark, dark, grew his eerie looks, 

And raging grew the sea. 

They had not sailed a mile awa', 

Never a mile but four, 
When the little wee ship ran round about, 

And never was seen more ! 


WE are indebted for the following recension of 
Constantine and Areti to Mr. Sophocles of Harvard 
College. It is constructed from Fauriel's text, com 
bined with a copy in Zambelios's *Aio-/zara A^ortKa, 
and with a version taken down from the recitation of 
a Cretan woman. The translation is by the skilful 
hand of Professor Felton. 

We may notice by the way that several versions of 
this piece are given by Tommaseo, in his Canti Popo- 
lari Toscani, etc. iii. 341. 

Mdvva /ne rovs eWta (rov vlovs Kal p.e rrj p,id <rov /copy, 
Trjv Koprj rrj p,ovd.KpifBr) TTJV TroXvayaTny/iei^, 
Trjv flx f s ScoSeKa xpov&v K rj\ios 8ev <rov rrjit e?5e, 
'2 ra (TKOTetva TTJV ^Xouyes, 's T afpeyya rrjv eVXeVey, 
'2 T acrTprj KOI s TOV avyepivo TOT efpxeiaves TCI vyovpa 

TTJS. 5 

H yeiTovia dev fj^epe nws f^X S QvyciTepa, 

Kai Trpo^evia crov (pepave CITTO TTJ 'Ba^v\a>vrj. 

Ol OKT& dftepcpol 8ev ^cXovvc, KOI 6 Kcocrrai/rivoy $e Aei 

" Aos TJ/j/e, /iai'i/a, dos TTJVC TTJV 'Aper^ 's ra ^ej/a, 
Na '^to AC' eya) Traprjyopia 's r?) arpara TTOV Sia/3aiVa)." 10 
ficrat, Kcooraj/r;}, p,' acr^f^ aTTiXoyrjdrjs ' 

r) x a P<*> TTOIO? 6a /JLOV TTJVC <f>fpj] ; " 
To $eo TJ}? jScivfi eyyvrrj Kal TOVS ayiovs 
717 X a P" v " ^S v ^ T ^l s T *l v 


Kai adv TTJV enavrptyave rrjv 'Aper^ 'y TO ^tVa, 
"EpXfrai xpovos 8i<re<pTos KOI ol Ivvia Tte&dvav. 
*Ep.iV T] fj.dvva uovax*) o~dv KaXa/zia 'y TOV Kap.7ro. 
*2 TO. O^TO) /jLvrjuara dcpverai, 'y ra o^ra> /ivpoXoydft, 
'2 ToC Ka>o-rai>rii/ou TO 6a(pTib dvecnra TO. /zaXXia TT;S 
u ~2rjKov, KaxTTavTivaKT) //.ou, r^v 'Aperj] fiou de\a> 
To $eo /zoti '/SaXey eyyvrrj Kai rovs ayiovs paprvpovs, 
Av TVXU TTiKpa yrj x a P " i"? 5 r " 

Kai jLteVa '$ ra yMea'afu^ra a?r' TO Kifiovpi 
Kdvei TO crvyi>(j)o aXoyo, /cat T' acrrpo o~aXi/3api, 
Kai TO (fieyydpi, o~WTpo(f>La KOI Traet va 
Bpi'ovcei TT^y KOI ^Teft^ovjTat oou '$ 

T)7J/ ^uipfTaet Kai dnopaKpia rfjs Xeyet. 
Fia e'Xa, 'ApeTOuXa /nov, Kvpdva pas (re ^e'Xei. 
, dSep(paKi /nou, /cut TI ' ve TOVT ' 17 aipa ! 
r 0"7T t ' rt f ta ^ 1 ^a /3dXa) TO ^pucrci /zo 
Kai av TTt/cpa, dSepcpaKt juov, yd 'p^co ws KU^CO? 

'2 TT) o-rpdra TTOV diafiaivave, 's rf] orrpdra nov Trayaivav, 
'AKOVV TrouXia /cai /ciXaSoui/, d/covv TrouXia /cai Xeve 

"Fia Ses KOTreXa ofioptpr; i/a (repi/T/ d-rreda/jLevos ! " 35 
" J/ A/covo~es, KdJcrTai/TaK^ /j,ou, TI Xeve TO TrouXd/cia ; " 

" IlouXd/cia 've /cat ay /ciXaSoOv, TrouXd/cia Ve /cat as 

Kai Trapa/cei TroO Trdyaii/ai' Kai aXXa TrouXia Tois \eyav 

" Ti /3Xe7rov/ie TO ^Xi/3epa TO jrapaTrovefieva ; 
Na TrfpTraroCf 01 ^a)i/Tavoi pe TOUJ dirfBa^vovs ; 40 

"^AKovo-ej, Kcwo-Tai'TdKT; /LIOV, TI Xe^e Ta TrovXdxta ; " 
" IIovXd/</a 'i/e /cai as /ciXaSovv, TrovXd/cia Ve /cai as Xej/. 
ai cr' 

K' tBvfuntn pas 6 TraTray /ie TO TroXy >i/3di>i." 

Kai Trape/^TTpoy TTOU Trrjyave, Kai aXXa TrouXia Toiy Xei>f 

TeToia rravojprja Xuyepjy va (repvy dTredap-evos ! " 
T' aKoucre TrdXe ^ ^Aperf) K eppdyur fj KapSid 
VOL. i. 20 


, Kcoorai/ra/c^ juou, rt Xez>e ra 7rov\a.Kia ; 50 
Ileff /MOU TTOV 'i/' ra /zaXXaKta trov, TO Trrjyovpb p-ova-raKi ; " 
" MeyaX?; appaxma JJL eup^ve, JLI' pprj^ TOV ^avarov." 


Kat ra cnriTOTrapddvpa TTOV *rav d 

" v Avoie, fj.dvva /z', civoi^f, KOI va. rr)v 'Apery (rou." 55 
"*Ai/ ^(rai Xapos", &id[3aiv, Kat aXXa TratSia Sec e^co 
C H doXrja 'AperouXa /nou XeiVet p.a.Kpia '$ ra ^ei'a." 

" v Ai/oie, /iaVi/a /z', avoie, K e'ya> ' juai 6 


To ^to o~o{J '/3aXa tyyvrr) K.CU TOVS dyiovs paprvpovs, 
*A.v rvxfl 7rt'<pa yi) X a P" *"* ^^ v " <ro ^ '" 

Kat &crT va '/3y^ 's TJ ' 



O MOTHER, thou with thy nine sons, and with one 

only daughter, 
Thine only daughter, well beloved, the dearest of thy 

For twelve years thou didst keep the maid, the sun 

did not behold her, 
Whom in the darkness thou didst bathe, in secret braid 

her tresses, 
And by the starlight and the dawn, didst wind her 

curling ringlets, 
Nor knew the neighborhood that thou didst have so 

fair a daughter, 
When came to thee from Babylon a woer's soft 

entreaty : 
Eight of the brothers yielded not, but Constantino 

" O mother give thine Arete, bestow her on the 

That I may have her solace dear when far away I 

" Though thou art wise, my Constantine, thou hast 

unwisely spoken : 
Be woe my lot or be it joy, who will restore my 

daughter ? " 


He calls to witness God above, he calls the holy 

Be woe her lot, or be it joy, he would restore her 

daughter : 
And when they wedded Arete, in that far distant 

Then comes the year of sorrowing, and all the nine 

did perish. 
All lonely was the mother left, like a reed alone in 

the meadow; 
O'er the eight graves she beats her breast, o'er eight is 

heard her wailing, 
And at the tomb of Constantine, she rends her hair 

in ancniish. 

"Arise, my Constantine, arise, for Arete I lan 
guish : 
On God to witness thou didst call, didst call the holy 

Be woe my lot or be it joy, thou wouldst restore my 

And forth at midnight hour he fares, the silent tomb 

He makes the cloud his flying steed, he makes the star 

his bridle, 
And by the silver moon convoyed, to bring her home 

he journeys : 
And finds her combing down her locks, abroad by 

silvery moonlight, 
And greets the maiden from afar, and from afar 

bespeaks her. 
"Arise, my Aretula dear, for thee our mother 

"Alas! my brother, what is this? what wouldst at 

such an hour ? 


If joy betide our distant home, I wear my golden 

If woe betide, dear brother mine, I go as now I'm 

" Think not of joy, think not of woe- return as here 

thou standest." 
And while they journey on the way, all on the way 

They hear the Birds, and what they sing, and what the 

Birds are saying. 
" Ho ! see the maiden all so fair, a Ghost it is that 

bears her." 
" Didst hear the Birds, my Constantino, didst list to 

what they're saying ? " 
"Yes: they are Birds, and let them sing, they're 

Birds, and let them chatter : " 
And yonder, as they journey on, still other Birds 

salute them. 
" What do we see, unhappy ones, ah ! woe is fallen 

on us ; 
Lo ! there the living sweep along, and with the dead 

they travel." 
" Didst hear, my brother Constantine, what yonder 

Birds are saying ? " 
" Yes ! Birds are they, and let them sing, they're Birds, 

and let them chatter." 
"I fear for thee, my Brother dear, for thou dost 

breathe of incense." 
" Last evening late we visited the church of Saint 

And there the priest perfumed me o'er with clouds of 

fragrant incense." 

And onward as they hold their way, still other Birds 
bespeak them : 


" O God, how wondrous is thy power, what miracles 

thou workest ! 
A maid so gracious and so fair, a Ghost it is that 

bears her : " 
'Twas heard again by Arete, and now her heart 

was breaking ; 
" Didst hearken, brother Constantine, to what the Birds 

are saying ? 
Say where are now thy waving locks, thy strong thick 

beard, where is it ? " 
" A sickness sore has me befallen, and brought me 

near to dying." 
They find the house all locked and barred, they find 

it barred and bolted, 
And all the windows of the house with cobwebs 

covered over. 
'* Unlock, O mother mine, unlock, thine Arete thou 

" If thou art Charon, get thee gone I have no other 

children : 

My hapless Arete afar, in stranger lands is dwell 
" Unlock, O mother mine, unlock, thy Constantine 

entreats thee. 
I called to witness God above, I called the holy 

Were woe thy lot, or were it joy, I would restore thy 

And when unto the door she came, her soul from 

her departed. 


Ritson's Ancient Songs, ii. 44. 

A Mery Ballet of the Hathorne Tre, from a MS. in 
the Cotton Library, Vespasian, A. xxv. The MS. has 
" G. Peele " appended to it, but in a hand more mod 
ern than the ballad. Mr. Dyce, with very good reason, 
" doubts " whether Peele is the author of the ballad, 
but has printed it, Peele's Works, ii. 256. It is given 
also by Evans, i. 342, and partly in Chappell's Popu 
lar Music, i. 64. 

The true character of this piece would never be 
suspected by one reading it in English. The same is 
true of the German, where the ballad is very common, 
and much prettier than in English, e. g. Das Madchen 
und die Hasel, Das Madchen und der Sagebaum, 
Erk's Liederhort, No. 33, five copies ; Hoffmann, 
Schlesische Volkslieder, No. 100, three copies, etc. In 
Danish and Swedish we find a circumstantial story : 
Jomfruen i Linden, Grundtvig, No. 66 ; Linden, Sven- 
ska Folkvisor, No. 87. The tree is an enchanted 
damsel, one of eleven children transformed by a step 
mother into various less troublesome things, and the 
spell can be removed only by a kiss from the king's 
son. By the intervention of the maiden, this rite is 
performed, and the beautiful linden is changed to as 
beautiful a young woman, who of course becomes the 


prince's bride. A Wendish ballad resembling the 
German is given by Haupt and Schmaler, and ballads 
akin to the Danish, are found in Slovensk and Lith 
uanian (see Grundtvig). 

IT was a maide of my countre, 
As she came by a hathorne-tre, 
As full of flowers as might be seen, 
' She ' merveld to se the tree so grene. 

At last she asked of this tre, 5 

" Howe came this freshness unto the, 
And every branche so faire and cleane ? 
I mervaile that you growe so grene." 

The tre < made ' answere by and by : 

" I have good causse to growe triumphantly ; 10 

The swetest dewe that ever be sene 

Doth fall on me to kepe me grene." 

" Yea," quoth the maid, " but where you growe, 
You stande at hande for every blowe ; 
Of every man for to be seen ; is 

I mervaile that you growe so grene." 

" Though many one take flowers from me, 
And manye a branche out of my tre, 
I have suche store they wyll not be sene, is 
For more and more my Hwegges' growe grene." 

20. twedges. 


" But howe and they chaunce to cut the downe, 
And carry thie braunches into the towne ? 
Then will they never no more be sene 
To growe againe so freshe and grene." 

" Though that you do, yt ys no boote ; as 

Althoughe they cut me to the roote, 

Next yere againe I will be sene 

To bude my branches freshe and grene. 

" And you, faire malde, canne not do so ; 

For yf you let youre maid-hode goe ; 

Then will yt never no more be sene, 

As I with my braunches can growe grene." 

The maide wyth that beganne to blushe, 
And turned her from the hathorne-bushe ; 
She though [t]e herselffe so faire and clene, 35 
Her bewtie styll would ever growe grene. 

Whan that she harde this marvelous dowbte, 
She wandered styll then all aboute, 
Suspecting still what she would wene, 
Her maid-heade lost would never be seen. 40 

Wyth many a sighe, she went her waye, 
To se howe she made herselff so gay, 
To walke, to se, and to be sene, 
And so out-faced the hathorne grene. 


Besides all that, yt put her in feare 4 

To talke with companye anye where, 
For feare to losse the thinge that shuld be sene 
To growe as were the hathorne grene. 

But after this never could I here 

Of this faire mayden any where, 

That ever she was in forest sene 

To talke againe of the hathorne grene. 


Ritson's Ancient Songs, i. 141, Sandys's Christmas Carols, p. 
4: from the Sloane MS., No. 2593 (temp. Hen. VI.) 

This curious little ballad was sung as a carol for St. 
Stephen's Day. Its counterpart is found in Danish 
(though not in an ancient form), printed in Erik Pon- 
toppidan's book on the relics of Heathenism and Pa 
pistry in Denmark, 1736 (Jesusbarnet, Stefan, og 
Herodes, Grundtvig, No. 96). There is also a similar 
ballad in Faroish. Only a slight trace of the story is 
now left in the Swedish Staffans Visa (Scenska F. F., 
No. 99), which is sung as a carol on St. Stephen's Day, 
as may very well have been the case with the Danish 
and Faroish ballads too. 

The miracle of the roasted cock occurs in many 
other legends. The earliest mention of it is in Vin 
cent of Beauvais's Speculum Historiale, L. xxv. c. 64. 
It is commonly ascribed to St. James, sometimes to the 
Virgin. (See the preface to the ballad in Grundtvig, 
and to Sou they 's Pilgrim to Compostella.) We meet 
with it in another English carol called The Carnal * 
and the Crane, printed in Sandys's collection, p. 152, 
from a broadside copy, corrupt and almost unintelli- 

* crow ? 


gible in places. The stanzas which contain the mir 
acle are the following : 

There was a star in the West land, 

So bright it did appear 
Into King Herod's chamber, 

And where King Herod were. 

The Wise Men soon espied it, 

And told the king on high, 
A princely babe was born that night 

No king could e'er destroy. 

" If this be true," King Herod said, 

"As thou tellest unto me, 
This roasted cock that lies in the dish 

Shall crow full fences * three." 

The cock soon freshly feather' d was, 

By the work of God's own hand, 
And then three fences crowed he, 

In the dish where he did stand. 

" Rise up, rise up, you merry men all, 

See that you ready be ; 
All children under two years old 

Now slain they all shall be." 

SEYNT STEVENE was a clerk in kyng Herowdes 

And servyd him of bred and cloth, as ever kyng 


Stevyn out of kechon cam, wyth boris bed on 

honde ; 
He saw a sterr was fayr and bryght over Bedlem 


* rounds ? 2. befalle, befell 


He kyst adoun the bores hed, and went into the 
halle : * 

" I forsake the, kyng Herowdes, and thi werkes 

" I forsak the, kyng Herowdes, and thi werkes alle : 
Ther is a chyld in Bedlem born is beter than we 

" Quhat eylyt the, Stevene ? quhat is the befalle ? 
Lakkyt the eyther mete or drynk in kyng 
Herowdes halle?" 

" Lakit me neyther mete ne drynk in kyng 

Herowdes halle : 
Ther is a chyld in Bedlem born is beter than we 


" Quhat eylyt the, Stevyn ? art thu wod, or thu 

gynnyst to brede ? 
Lakkyt the eythar gold or fe, or ony ryche wede ? " 

" Lakyt ' me ' neyther gold ne fe, ne non ryche 
wede ; 15 

Ther is a chyld in Bedlem born xal helpen us at 
our nede." 

" That is al so soth, Stevyn, al so soth, i-wys, 
As this capon crowe xal that lyth her in myn dysh." 

5. kyst, cast. 9. eylyt, aileth. 13. wod, mad: gynnyst to 
brede, beginnest to entertain capricious fancies, like a woman, 
&c. 14. fe, wages: wede, clothes. 15. ne, nor. 16. xall, 
shall. 17. soth, true: i-wys, for a certainty. 


That word was not so sone seyd, that word in that 

The capon crew, CHRISTUS NATUS EST! among 

the lordes alle. 20 

" Rysyt up, myn turmentowres, be to and al be 

And ledyt Stevyn out of this town, and stonyt 

hym wyth ston." 

Tokyn he Stevene, and stonyd hym in the way ; 
And therefor is his evyn on Crystes owyn day. 

21. be to, by two. 23. he, they. 


Q^" Figures placed after words denote the pages in which 
they occur. 

a, one. 

at, 296, of. 

a', all 

atteynt, seize. 

abee, abene, be. 

aught, oioed. 

aboon, abune, above. 

avanse, gain, succeed. 

aby, pay for. 

avow, vow. 

ae, only, sole. 

awa, away. 

ae, aye, still. 

awenn, own. 

ahin, behind. 

ay, a. 

aim, iron. 

ayont, beyond. 

aid, old. 

all and some, each and all. 

ba', batt. 

als, as. 

backefysyke, 22. 

als, a&o. 

bade, prayed for. 

ance, anes, once. 

bade, abode, staid. 

appone, upon. 

bairnly, childlike. 

araye, order. 

bald, bold. 

arblast-bow, cross-bow. 

bale, blaze, fire. 

are, before. 

bale, harme, ruin, sorrow. 

arena, are not. 

ban', bound. 

arighte, laid hold of. 

bane, bone. 

armorie, 237, band of armed 

bankers, 276, coverings for 



asey, assay. 

bann, curse. 

ask, newt, a kind of lizard. 

barn, child, wight. 

askryede, described. 

beck, stream. 

asurd, azured, blue. 

bedone, 8, bedecked. 



begane, bedecked. 

begynne the bord, sit at the 
head of the table. 

ben, in. 

ben, prompt, ready. 

bent, plain, field, (from the 
coarse grass growing on 
open lands); bentis, bents, 
coarse grass. 

beryde, 98, cried, made a noise. 

bese, will or shall be. 

best man, bride's, 85, brides 
man, (corresponding to the 
best maid, or bridesmaid). 

bestedde, circumstanced. 

bi, be. 

bierly, 148, proper, becoming, 

bigg, build. 

bilive, quickly. 

Billy Blind, or Billy Blin, 
a Broumie, or domestic 

binkes, benches. 

bird, lady. 

birk, birch. 

birled, 211, poured out drink, 
or drunk. 

blae, livid. 

blee, color, complexion. 

blewe, 99, sounded a horn. 

blin, blyn, stop, cease. 

bogle, spectre, goblin. 

bone, boon. 

boome, 287. Qy. goome, man ? 

bord, table. 

borrow, stand surety for, ran 
som, rescue. 

bouir, chamber, dwelling. 

boun, boon. 

boun, ready ; make ye boun, 
289, boun, 187, go straight 

bourdes, jests. 

boure, bower, chamber. 

bouted, bolted. 

bown, ready, ready to go. 

bowrd, jest. 

brade, broad. 

brae, hill-side. 

brast, burst. 

brayd, started, turned. 

braw, brave, fine. 

bree, brow. 

brening, burning. 

brent, burnt. 

brether, 26, brethren. 

bricht, bright. 

brimes, waters. 

britled, 15, brittened, 106, cut 
up, carved. 

brok, brook. 

broom-cow, bush of broom. 

brook, enjoy, preserve. 

brues, brows. 

brunt, burnt. 

bryste, burst. 

bne, 234, 235, fair f 

bugyle, horn. 

bunge, 239 ? 

buntin, buntlin, blackbird; al. 

burd, maid, lady. 

burd-alane, alone. 

Burlow-beanie, 241, name of 
a fiend or spirit. 

burn, brook. 

busk, dress, make ready. 



but, 203, and; but and, and 


by and by, straightway. 
bydeene, 13, continuously, in 

byggis, builds. 
bygone, bedecked. 
byhouys, behoves. 
byleve, 98, remain. 
byrde, lady. 
oyre, cow-house. 
byrnande, burning. 
byteche, commit. 

ca', call. 

can, (sometimes gan,) used as 
an auxiliary with an infini 
tive mood, to express the past 
tense of a verb. 

carknet, necklace. 

carline, female of churl, old 

carlist, 37, churlish. 

carp, talk, tell stories. 

cast, planned. 

chalmer, chamber. 

channerin', fretting. 

chere, countenance. 

chese, choose. 

chess, jess, strap. 

chewys, choosest. 

chiel, child, young man. 

christendame, christendoun, 


christentye, Christendom. 
claes, clothes. 
clapping, fondling. 
clear, clere, fair, morally 


VOL. i. 21 

cockward, cuckold. 

coft, bought. 

coiffer, 260, coif, head-dress, 

cold, could, knew ; used as an 
auxiliary with the infinitive 
to express a past tense; e. g. 
he cold fling, he flung. 

coleyne, Collen, Cologne steel. 

com'nye, 237, communing, dis 

compass, circle. 

compenabull, 21, sociable, ad 
mitting to participation. 

coost, coosten, cast. 

couth, could, knew, understood. 

covent, convent. 

cow-me-doo, 171, like cur- 
doo, name for a dove, from 
its cooing. 

craftelike, craftily. 

crapote", 99. Qy. cramasee, 
crimson ? 

cropoure, crupper. 

crowt, 12, curl up. 

crystiante, Christendom. 

cure, 279, till. 

dag-durk, dagger, dirk. 

damasee, damson. 

dang, beat, struck. 

dasse, dais, raised platform. 

daunton, daunt. 

decay, destruction. 

dee, die. 

dee, do. 

deid, death. 

dele, dell, part. 

deUe, 101, dally. 



dere, harm. 

derne, secret. 

des, dese, dais, elevated plat 

devyse, direction. 

deynteous, dainty. 

dight, 225, placed, involved. 

dight (corn), winnow. 

dinne, 12, trouble, circum 

distans, 23, dissension, strife. 

done, do. 

doo, dove. 

doubt, dout, fear. 

dought, could, might ; 112, 
may, am able. 

dow, could. 

dowie, mournful, doleful. 

dree, suffer. 

drest, arranged. 

drumlie, troubled, gloomy. 

dryssynge, dressing. 

dule, sorrow, trouble. 

dullfull, doleful 

dyght, dygzht, adorned, ar 
rayed, dressed, 

ear, soon, early. 

eerie, eiry, fearful, producing 

superstitious dread. 
eghne, eyes. 
eglis, eagle's. 
elde, eldren, old. 
Elfin, 262, 'Elf-land. 
elritch, elvish. 
endres-daye, 98, past-day f 

other day ? See Halliwell's 

"Of my fortune, how it ferde, 

This endir day, as y forth 

erdelik, 275, earthly. (Finlay, 

erlish, elvish. 
esk, newt. 

etin (Danish jette), giant. 
even cloth, 113, fine cloth? 
everlk, every. 
everychon, every one. 

faem, foam. 

faine, desire. 

faine, glad. 

fairest, forest. 

fand, found. 

fare, go. 

farer, further. 

fawte, want. 

fayrse, farce. 

feat, neat, dexterous, nimble. 

fee, 100, animals, deer ; 107, 
rent, tribute. 

feed, same as food, fud, crea 
ture, man, woman, or child. 

feires, companions, mates. 

fele, many. 

fell, hill, moor. 

ferli, 275, fairly ? 

ferlie, ferly, wonder. 

ferlich, wondrous. 

fernie, covered with fern. 

fet, fette, fetched. 

fethill, fiddle. 

fforthi, therefore. 

fifthen, fifth. 

fil, fell 

first ane, first. 

firth, (frith,) wood 



fize, 274, Jive. 

flang, flung. 

flaugh, flew. 

flaw, 175, lie. 

fleer, floor. 

fley'd, frightened. 

flone, arrow. 

fode, creature, child. 

fond, try, make trial. 

fonde, found. 

forbye, aside. 

fordoo, destroy. 

foremost man, 158, (like best 

man), bridesman. 
forowttyn, without. 
forteynd, happened. 
forther, further. 
forthi, therefore. 
fowles, birds. 
fraine, question. 
free, 275, lord, 253, lady. 
free, freely, noble, lovely. 
frem, strange. 
freyry, fraternity. 
frowte, fruit. 
fu', full. 

fundyd, 275, went. 
fytt, canto, division of a song. 

gad, bar. 

gae, gave. 
gae, go, going. 
gait, nae, no way, no 
galid, 276, sang ? 
gangande, going. 
gar, make, cause. 
gare, 193, strip. 
garthes, girths. 
gate, 225, way. 

gesing, 276, guessing ; or, de 
sire, A. Sax. gitsung? 

getterne, gittern, kind of harp. 

ghesting, lodging, hospitable 

gied, went. 

gien, given. 

gin, giue, if. 

gleed, a burning coal. 

glided, 274. Qy. gilded? 

glint, gleam. 

gon, begun, performed. 

gon, went. 

goud, gold. 

goupen, the hollow of the hand 
contracted to receive any 

go wan, flower. 

gowd, gold. 

gowden, golden. 

gown of green, got on the, 259, 
was with child. 

gravil, 260? 

gree, favor, prize. 

green'd, longed. 

greet, weep. 

grew, gray. 

groom, man, young man. 

gule, red. 

gurlie, stormy, surly. 

gyne, device. 

ha', hall. 
had, hold, keep. 
hailsed, saluted. 
halch, salute, embrace. 
hallow, hollow. 

Hallowe'en, 120, the eve of 
Att-Saints' day, supposed to 



be peculiarly favorable for 
intercourse with the invisi 
ble world, all fairies, witch 
es, and ghosts being then 

hals, halse, neck ; halsed, 

haly, holy. 

hame, home. 

hap, cover. 

harde, heard. 

harns, brains ; harn-pan, skull 

hate, hat. 

hat, hit. 

haud, hold. 

haved, had. 

heal, conceal. 

heathennest, heathynesse, 
234, heathendom. 

hegehen, eyes. 

hegh, high ; heghere, higher. 

hem, them. 

hende, handsome, gentle. 

hent, took. 

herbere, arbor, orchard. 

herme, harm. 

hethyn, 107, hence. 

hett, bid. 

heved, head. 

hi, 275, /. 

high-coll' d, high-cut. 

hind, gentie. 

hind, 180, stripling. 

him lane, alone. 

hingers, hangings. 

him, corner. 

hith, hight, is called. 

hollen, holly. 

hore, hoar, hoary. 

hose, 238, clasp. 

howkit, dug. 

howm, holm ; level, low ground 

on the bank of a stream. 
hunt's-ha', hunting-lodge. 
hye, in, in haste ; 23, perhaps 


hyghte, bid ; was called. 
hynde, youth, stripling, swain. 
hyJe, in, 20, in haste, of a sud 


iknow, known. 

ilka, each. 

ilke, same. 

inow^e, enough. 

intill, into, upon. 

iralle, 99. Qu. rialle, royal f 

jawes, 227, dashes ; jawp'd, 

257, dashed, spattered. 
jelly, jolly, pleasant. 
jimp, slender, neat. 
jolly, pretty, gay. 

kaim, comb. 

kane, rent. 

karp, talk, relate stories. 

kemb, comb. 

ken, know. 

keppit, caught, kept. 

kevels, lots. 

kiest, cast. 

kilted, tucked. 

kin', kind of. 

kindly, 236, "good old" ? 

kirk, church. 

kist, chest. 



knave-bairn, male child. 
knicht, knight. 

laidley, loathly, loathsome. 

laigh-coll'd, low-cut. 

laith, loath. 

lane, alone ; joined with pro 
nouns, as, my lane, his 
lane, her lane, their lane, 
myself alone, $c. 

lang, to think, originally, to 
seem long, then to be weary, 
feel ennui. 

lapande, lapping. 

lappered, coagulated, clotted. 

lat, latten, let. 

lauchters, locks. 

laverock, lark. 

leal, loyal, chaste. 

leccam, body. 

lede, lead. 

lee, lie. 

leesome, pleasant, sweet. 

leffe, 22, leave ? 

lere, lore, doctrine ; learn. 

les, lesyng, lying, lie. 

lesse and more, smaller and 

lett, lette, hinder, hinderance ; 
delay; withouten lette, for 
a certainty. 

leuedys, ladies. 

leuer, liefer, rather. 

leu^e, laughed. 

leven, 111, lawn. 

levin, lightning. 

ley-land, lea-land, not ploughed. 

licht, light. 

lichted, lighted. 

lift, air. 

likes, dead bodies. 

lingcam, 148, body, = leccam ? 

linger, longer. 

link, walk briskly ; arm in arm. 

lire, face, countenance. 

lith, 275, supple, limber. 

lithe, listen. 

lodlye, loathly. 

loffe, love. 

loof, hollow of the hand. 

loot, bow. 

loot, let. 

loun, loon. 

louted, lowed. 

lown, lone. 

low^he, laughed, smiled. 

luifsomely, lovingly. 

luppen, leapt. 

lygge, lay. 

lyggande, lying. 

lyle, little. 

lystnys, listen. 

lyth, member, limb. 

mae, more. 
maen, moan. 
maik, mate. 
makane, making. 
mane, moan. 
mansworn, perjured. 
marrow, mate. 
maste, most, greatest. 
maun, must. 
maunna, may not. 
mawys, mavis, singing thrush. 
may, maid. 

medill-erthe, earth, the upper- 



mekill, great, large. 

mell, mallet., melody. 

mensked, 276, honored. 

menyde, moaned. 

merks, marks. 

merk-soot, 274, mark-shot, dis 
tance between bow-marks. 

merrys, marrest. 

mese, mess, meal. 

micht, might. 

middle-eard, the upper world, 
placed between the nether 
regions and the sky. 

minded, remembered. 

minion, Jine, elegant. 

mirk, dark. 

mith, might. 

mode, passion, energy. 

mody, courageous. 

mold, mould, earth, ground. 

montenans, amount. 

more, greater. 

most, greatest. 

moth, might. 

mother-naked, naked as at 
one's birth. 

mouthe, might. 

muckle, much. 

Mungo, St., St. Kentigem. 

my lane, alone. 

mykel, much. 

na, not; namena, name not, $c. 
nay, denial. 
neist, next. 

newfangle, 9, (trifling, incon 
stant), light, loose. 

niest, next, nearest, close. 
noth, nouth, not. 
nouther, noyther, neither. 

on, in. 

on ane, anon. 

one, on, in. 

onie, any. 

or, ere, before. 

orfare", 99, embroidery. 

Oryence, Orient. 

oure, over. 

over one, 23, in a company, to 
gether ? See Jamieson's 
Scottish Dictionary, in v. 
ouer ane. 

owre, over, too. 

owreturn, refrain. 

pae, peacock. 

paines, penance. 

pall, rich cloth. 

palmer, pilgrim. 

papeioyes, popinj ays. 

parde, par dieu. 

pautit, paw, beat with the foot. 

pay, 237, pleasure, satisfac 

paye, 104, content. 

payetrelle, 99, (otherwise, pa- 
trel, poitrail, pectorale, &c. } 
a steel plate for the protec 
tion of a horse's chest. 

payrelde, apparelled. 

perde", par dieu. 

perelle, pearl. 

pile, 260, down, sometimes 
tender leaves. 

plas, 19, place, palace. 



plyjt, plight, promise. 

poterner, 8, pouch, purse. 
Rightly corrected by Percy 
from poterver. See p'iuton- 
niere, pontonaria, and pan- 
tonarius, in HenscheVs ed. 
of Ducnnge. 

pou, pull. 

prest, priest. 

prieve, prove. 

prink'd, prinn'd, adorned, 
drest up, made neat. 

pristly, earnestly. 

propine, gift. 

raches, scenting hounds. 

radde, quick, quickly. 

rair, roar. 

rashing, striking like a boar. 

rathely, quickly. 

raught, reached. 

rauine, beasts of chase, prey. 

redd, 22, explained. 

rede, counsel. 

reekit, 299, steamed. 

reele bone, 99, an unknown 
material, of which saddles, 
especially, are in the ro 
mances said to be made ; 
called variously, rewel-bone, 
( Cant. Tales, 13,807,) rowel- 
bone, reuylle-bone, and 
( Young Bekie, voL iv. 12) 

reet, root. 

reme, kingdom. 

retininge, running. 

repreve, reprove, deride. 

re we, take pity. 

ridand, riding. 

rived, 233, (arrived,) travelled. 

rought, route, rowte, rout, 

band, company. 
routh, plenty. 
row, roll, wrap. 
rown-tree, mountain-ash. 
rudd, complexion. 
rybybe, kind of jiddle. 
ryn, run. 
rysse, rise. 

safe-guard, a riding-skirt. 

saghe, saw. 

saikless, guiltless. 

sained, crossed, consecrated. 

sail, shall. 

same, 25, some, each. 

sark, shirt. 

sathe, sooth, truth. 

saw, saying, tale. 

sawtrye, psaltery. 

scathe, damage. 

schane, shone. 

scho, she. 

schone, shoes. 

scort, short. 

sculd, should. 

seannachy, genealogist, bard, 

or story-teller. 
seek, sack. 
sekirlye, truly. 
selle, saddle. 
senne, since. 
sere, sore. 
seres, sires, sirs. 
sey, 18, v. 29, saw. 
share, 193, slip, strip. 
shathmont, 126, [A. Sax. 



scaeftmund,] a measure 
from the top of the extended 
thumb to the utmost part of 
the palm, six inches. 

shee, 166, shoe. 

sheede, spill. 

sheeld-bones, blade-bones, 

sheen, bright. 

sheen, shoes. 

sheep's-silver, mica. 

shent, injured, abused ; 48, 

sheugh, furrow, ditch. 

sic, such. 

sichin', sighing. 

sicken, such. 

skaith, harm. 

skaith, [qy. skail?] 136, save, 
keep innocent of. 

skill, but a, 371, only reasona 

skinked, poured out. 

sky sett in, 262, for sunset or 

skyll, reason, manner, mat 

slae, sloe. 

slawe, slain. 

slichting, slighting. 

smert, quickly. 

snell, quick, keen. 

solace, solas, recreation, sport. 

sooth, soth, truth ; sothely, 

soth, 276, sweet. 

soun, sound. 

speed, 11, fare. 

spier, ask. 

spylle, destroy. 

stappin', 148, stopping. 

stark, strong. 

start, started. 

stefly, thickly. 

stered, guided. 

stern light, 112, light of 


stiffe, 29, strong, stout. 
stinted, stopped. 
store, big, strong. 
stown, stolen. 
stowre, strong, brave. 
straiked, stroaked. 
strak, struck. 

stratlins, 183, straddlings ? 
streek, stretch. 
sture, 155, big, strong. 
stythe, stead, place. 
suire, neck. 
suld, should. 
swick, blame. 
swilled, 242, shook, as in rins- 


swoghyne, 103, soughing. 
swylke, such. 
syde, long. 
syen, since. 

syke, rivulet, marshy bottom. 
sykerly, sykerlyke, certainly, 


syne, then. 
syth, times. 
sythen, since. 

tabull dormounte, 19, stand 
ing table, the fixed table at 
the end of the hall. (?) 

tae, toe. 



taiken, token. 

tee, to. 

teind, tithe. 

tene, grief, sorrow, loss, harm. 

tente, attention, heed; takis 
gude tente, give good atten 
tion to. 

tett, 109, lock [of hair.] 

thae, those. 

than, then. 

thar, where. 

thar, 275, it needs. 

then, than. 

think lang, to be weary, impa 

thir, these, those. 

tho, then. 

thoghte, seemed. 

thoth, thouch, thouth, though. 

thought lang, seemed long; 
grew weary, felt ennui. 

thouth, 274, seemed. 

throw, short time, while. 

thrubchandler, 237 ? 

tide, time. 

till, to. 

tirled at the pin, trilled, or 
rattled, at the door-pin, 01* 
latch, to obtain admission. 

tither, the other. 

tod, fox. 

toute, 22. See Chaucer. 

touting, tooting. 

travayle, labor. 

traye, 104, suffering, [dree?] 

tree, wood, staff. 

trew, trow. 

tryst, appointment, assignation. 

twal, twelve. 

twan, twined. 

twine, part, deprive of. 

tyde, time. 

tyte, promptly, quick. 

unco, strangely, very. 

vanes, flags. 
venerye, hunting. 
vent, went. 
verament, truly. 
villanye, vilony, disgrace. 
vntill, unto. 

vones, (wones,) dwellest. 
vytouten, without. 

wa', wall. 

wace, wax. 

wad, pledge. 

wad, 212, waded. 

wadded, 9, wood-colored, blue. 

wadna, would not. 

wae, waefu', waesome, sor 
rowful, sad. 

waif, straying. 

wald, would. 

walker, 10, fuller. 

wall-wight men, 176, picked 
(waled) strong men, war 
riors: see vol. vi., p. 220, 
v. 15. 

wan afore, 255, came before. 

wane, dwelling. 

war, where. 

ware of, to be, to perceive. 

warld's maike, 264, compan 
ion for life. 

warluck, a wizard, a man in 
league with the devil. 



warsled, wrestled, struggled. 

warwolf, werwolf, manwolf. 

wat, wet. 

waught, draught. 

wauking, walking. 

waylawaye, alas. 

wee, little. 

weiest, 254, [Jamieson,] sad 
dest, darkest. 

weird, fate. 

weird, destine. 

wend, iceened. 

wer, were, war. 

wern, refuse. 

werre, worse. 

werryed, worried. 

wesch, wash. 

wete, weten, knowing. 

whareto, wherefore. 

wharfrae, whence. 

whereas, where. 

wi, with. 

wicht, strong, nimble. 

wide, 199, wade. 

widershins, the contrary way, 
the way contrary to the 
course of the sun. 

wide-whare, widely, far and 

wierd, fate. 

wight, strong, active, nim 

wilder' d, carried astray. 

win, go to, attain ; win up, 
get up. 

win, rescue. 

wind blows in your glove, 

winna, wiO, not. 

wistna, knew not. 

wit, know, knowledge. 

wittering, information. 

witti, intelligible. 

wodewale, woodpecker. 

woe, sad. 

won, dwell. 

wonige, 275, [adj. qy. won- 
ing?] dwelling. 

wood, mad. 

worth, 276, become, be the re- 

worthy, I were, 26, it would 
become me. 

wow, exclamation of astonish 
ment or grief. 

wpe, up. 

wrebbe, 98 ; wrebbe and 
wrye, turn and twist ? 

wrought, 240, for raught, 

wrucked up, 240, throion up. 

wrye, 98, wrebbe and wrye, 
turn and twist ? 

wud, wood. 

wull, 253, wandering in igno 
rance of one's course, lost in 
error, bewildered. 

wylos, willows. 

wyndouten, without. 

wyne-berye, grape. 

wysse, wise. 

wyt, with. 

wyte, 136, blame. 

wyth, 276, wight, agile. 

wytouten, without. 

yard, staff. 
yat, that. 


yate, gate. yod, went. 

y-born, born. yone, yon. 

y-doon, done. yyng, young. 

ychon, each one. 

yeen, 274, against, towards. zede, went. 

ye'se, ye shall, will. zonge, young. &c. 

yestreen, yesterday. }e, ye. 

yett, gate. }ede, went. 

ylk, eacfe. Jit, yet. &c.