FOOTNOTES:
[143] Aytoun, 1-8 == Herd, 1776, 1-8: 9-13 == Jamieson, 11-15: 14, 15 == Herd, 11, 12: 16, 17 == Jamieson, 18, 19: 18, 19 == Herd, 13, 14: 20-24 == Jamieson, 21-25.
[12]
LORD RANDAL
[A]. From a manuscript copy, probably of the beginning of this century.
[B]. 'Lord Donald,' Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 110.
[C]. Motherwell's MS., p. 69.
[D]. Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, 1803, III, 292.
[E]. Halliwell's Popular Rhymes and Nursery Tales, p. 261.
[F]. 'Lord Ronald, my Son,' Johnson's Museum, No 327, p. 337.
[G]. Illustrations of Northern Antiquities, p. 319.
[H]. From recitation, 1881.
[I]. 'Tiranti, my Son.' a. Communicated by a lady of Boston, b. By an aunt of the same. c. By a lady of New Bedford. d. By a lady of Cambridge. e, f, g. By ladies of Boston.
[J]. 'The Bonnie Wee Croodlin Dow,' Motherwell's MS., p. 238.
[K]. a. 'The Croodlin Doo,' Chambers, Scottish Ballads, p. 324. b. 'The Wee Croodlen Doo,' Chambers, Popular Rhymes, 1842, p. 53. c. Johnson's Museum, by Stenhouse and Laing, IV, 364*.
[L]. 'Willie Doo,' Buchan's MSS, II, 322, and Ballads, II, 179.
[M]. 'The Croodin Doo,' Chambers, Popular Rhymes, 1870, p. 51.
[N]. Kinloch MSS, V, 347.
[O]. 'The Croodlin Doo.' From a manuscript belonging to the Fraser-Tytler family.
The title 'Lord Randal' is selected for this ballad because that name occurs in one of the better versions, and because it has become familiar through Scott's Minstrelsy. Scott says that the hero was more generally termed Lord Ronald: but in the versions that have come down to us this is not so. None of these can be traced back further than a century. F and D were the earliest published. Jamieson remarks with respect to G (1814): "An English gentleman, who had never paid any attention to ballads, nor ever read a collection of such things, told me that when a child he learnt from a playmate of his own age, the daughter of a clergyman in Suffolk, the following imperfect ditty." I, a version current in eastern Massachusetts, may be carried as far back as any. a, b derive from Elizabeth Foster, whose parents, both natives of eastern Massachusetts, settled, after their marriage, in Maine, where she was born in 1789. Elizabeth Foster's mother is remembered to have sung the ballad, and I am informed that the daughter must have learned it not long after 1789, since she was removed in her childhood from Maine to Massachusetts, and continued there till her death. 'Tiranti' ['Taranti'] may not improbably be a corruption of Lord Randal.
The copy in Smith's Scottish Minstrel, III, 58, is Scott's altered. The first four stanzas are from the Border Minstrelsy, except the last line of the fourth, which is from Johnson's Museum. The last two stanzas are a poor modern invention.
Three stanzas which are found in A. Cunningham's Scottish Songs, I, 286 f, may be given for what they are worth. 'The house of Marr,' in the first, is not to be accepted on the simple ground of its appearance in his pages. The second is inserted in his beautified edition of Scott's ballad, and has its burden accordingly; but there is, besides this, no internal evidence against the second, and none against the third.
'O where have you been, Lord Ronald, my son?
O where have you been, my handsome young man?'
'At the house of Marr, mother, so make my bed soon,
For I'm wearied with hunting, and fain would lie down.'
'O where did she find them, Lord Randal, my son?
O where did she catch them, my handsome young man?'
'Neath the bush of brown bracken, so make my bed soon,
For I'm wae and I'm weary, and fain would lie down.'
'O what got your bloodhounds, Lord Ronald, my son?
O what got your bloodhounds, my handsome young man?'
'They lapt the broo, mother, so make my bed soon,
I am wearied with hunting, and fain would lie down.'
A pot-pourri or quodlibet, reprinted in Wolff's Egeria, p. 53, from a Veronese broadside of the date 1629, shows that this ballad was popular in Italy more than 250 years ago; for the last but one of the fragments which make up the medley happens to be the first three lines of 'L'Avvelenato,' very nearly as they are sung at the present day, and these are introduced by a summary of the story:
"Io vo' finire con questa d'un amante
Tradito dall' amata.
Oh che l'è sì garbata
A cantarla in ischiera:
'Dov' andastu iersera,
Figliuol mio ricco, savio e gentile?
Dov' andastu iersera'?"[144]
The ballad was first recovered in 1865, by Dr G. B. Bolza, who took it down from the singing of very young girls at Loveno. Since then good copies have been found at Venice. A, 'L'Avvelenato,' Bolza, Canzoni popolari comasche, No 49, Sitzungsberichte of the Vienna Academy (philos. histor. class), LIII, 668, is of seventeen stanzas, of seven short lines, all of which repeat but two: the 8th and 10th stanzas are imperfect.[145] A mother inquires of her son where he has been. He has been at his mistress's, where he has eaten part of an eel; the rest was given to a dog, that died in the street. The mother declares that he has been poisoned. He bids her send for the doctor to see him, for the curate to shrive him, for the notary to make his will. He leaves his mother his palace, his brothers his carriage and horses, his sisters a dowry, his servants a free passage to mass ("la strada d'andà a messa" == nothing), a hundred and fifty masses for his soul; for his mistress the gallows to hang her. B, C, 'L'Avvelenato,' Bernoni, Nuovi Canti popolari veneziani, 1874, No 1, p. 5, p. 3, have twelve and eighteen four-line stanzas, the questions and answers in successive stanzas, and the last three lines of the first pair repeated respectively throughout.[146] B, which is given as a variant of C, agrees with A as to the agent in the young man's death. It is his mistress in B, but in C it is his mother. In both, as in A, he has eaten of an eel. The head he gave to the dogs, the tail to the cats (C). He leaves to his stewards (castaldi) his carriages and horses (C); to his herdsmen his cows and fields; to the maids his chamber furnishings; to his sister the bare privilege of going to mass (C, as in A); to his mother [wife, C] the keys of his treasure. "La forca per picarla" is in B as in A the bequest to his false love, instead of whom we have his mother in C.
The corresponding German ballad has been known to the English for two generations through Jamieson's translation. The several versions, all from oral tradition of this century, show the same resemblances and differences as the English.
A, B, 'Schlangenköchin,' eight stanzas of six lines, four of which are burden, A, Liederhort, p. 6, No 2a, from the neighborhood of Wilsnack, Brandenburg, B, Peter, I, 187, No 6, from Weidenau, Austrian Silesia, run thus: Henry tells his mother that he has been at his sweetheart's (but not a-hunting); has had a speckled fish to eat, part of which was given to the dog [cat, B], which burst. Henry wishes his father and mother all blessings, and hell-pains to his love, A 6-8. His mother, B 8, asks where she shall make his bed: he replies, In the church-yard. C, 'Grossmutter Schlangenköchin,' first published in 1802, in Maria's (Clemens Brentano's) romance Godwi, II, 113, afterward in the Wunderhorn, I, 19 (ed. 1819, I, 20, ed. 1857), has fourteen two-line stanzas, or seven of four lines, one half burden. The copy in Zuccalmaglio, p. 217, No 104, "from Hesse and North Germany," is the same thing with another line of burden intercalated and two or three slight changes. Maria has been at her grandmother's, who gave her a fish to eat which she had caught in her kitchen garden; the dog ate the leavings, and his belly burst. The conclusion agrees with B, neither having the testament. D, 'Stiefmutter,' seven stanzas of four short lines, two being burden, Uhland, No 120, p. 272; excepting one slight variation, the same as Liederhort, p. 5, No 2, from the vicinity of Bückeburg, Lippe-Schaumburg. A child has been at her mother's sister's house, where she has had a well-peppered broth and a glass of red wine. The dogs [and cats] had some broth too, and died on the spot. The child wishes its father a seat in heaven, for its mother one in hell. E, 'Kind, wo bist du denn henne west?' Reiffenberg, p. 8, No 4, from Bökendorf, Westphalia, four stanzas of six lines, combining question and answer, two of the six burden. A child has been at its step-aunt's, and has had a bit of a fish caught in the nettles along the wall. The child gives all its goods to its brother, its clothes to its sister, but three devils to its [step-]mother. F, 'Das vergiftete kind,' seven four-line stanzas, two burden, Schuster, Siebenbürgisch-sächsische V. L., p. 62, No 58, from Mühlbach. A child tells its father that its heart is bursting; it has eaten of a fish, given it by its mother, which the father declares to be an adder. The child wishes its father a seat in heaven, its mother one in hell.
A, B are nearer to 'Lord Randal,' and have even the name Henry which we find in English C. C-F are like J-O, 'The Croodlin Doo.'
Dutch. 'Isabelle,' Snellaert, p. 73, No 67, seven four-line stanzas, the first and fourth lines repeated in each. Isabel has been sewing at her aunt's, and has eaten of a fish with yellow stripes that had been caught with tongs in the cellar. The broth, poured into the street, caused the dogs to burst. She wishes her aunt a red-hot furnace, herself a spade to bury her, her brother a wife like his mother.
Swedish. A, 'Den lillas Testamente,' ten five-line stanzas, three lines burden, Afzelius, III, 13, No 68; ed. Bergström, I, 291, No 55. A girl, interrogated by her step-mother, says she has been at her aunt's, and has eaten two wee striped fishes. The bones she gave the dog; the stanza which should describe the effect is wanting. She wishes heaven for her father and mother, a ship for her brother, a jewel-box and chests for her sister, and hell for her step-mother and her nurse. B, Arwidsson, II, 90, No 88, nine five-line stanzas, two lines burden. In the first stanza, evidently corrupt, the girl says she has been at her brother's. She has had eels cooked with pepper, and the bones, given to the dogs, made them burst. She gives her father good corn in his barns, her brother and sister a ship, etc., hell to her step-mother and nurse.
Danish. Communicated by Prof. Grundtvig, as obtained for the first time from tradition in 1877; five stanzas of five lines, three lines repeating. Elselille, in answer to her mother, says she has been in the meadow, where she got twelve small snakes. She wishes heavenly joy to her father, a grave to her brother, hell torment to her sister.
Magyar. 'Der vergiftete Knabe,' Aigner, Ungarische Volksdichtungen, 2e Auflage, p. 127, in nine six-line stanzas, four being a burden. Johnnie, in answer to his mother, says he has been at his sister-in-law's, and has eaten a speckled toad, served on her handsomest plate, of which he is dying. He bequeaths to his father his best carriage, to his brothers his finest horses, to his sister his house furniture, to his sister-in-law everlasting damnation, to his mother pain and sorrow.
Wendish. 'Der vergiftete Knabe,' Haupt u. Schmaler, I, 110, No 77, twelve four-line stanzas, combining question and answer, the first and last line repeating. Henry has been at the neighbor's, has eaten part of a fish caught in the stable with a dung-fork; his dog ate the rest, and burst. There is no testament. His mother asks him where she shall make his bed; he replies, In the churchyard; turn my head westward, and cover me with green turf.
The numerous forms of this story show a general agreement, with but little difference except as to the persons who are the object and the agent of the crime. These are, according to the Italian tradition,—which is 250 years old, while no other goes back more than a hundred years, and far the larger part have been obtained in recent years,—a young man and his true-love; and in this account unite two of the three modern Italian versions, English A-G, German A, B. Scott suggests that the handsome young sportsman (whom we find in English A, C, D, E, F, H) may have been exchanged for a little child poisoned by a step-mother, to excite greater interest in the nursery. This seems very reasonable. What girl with a lover, singing the ballad, would not be tempted to put off the treacherous act on so popular, though most unjustly popular, an object of aversion? A mother, again, would scarcely allow "mother" to stand, as is the case in Italian C and German F, and a singer who considered that all blood relations should be treated as sacred would ascribe the wickedness to somebody beyond that pale, say a neighbor, as the Wendish ballad does, and Zuccalmaglio's reading of German C. The step-mother is expressly named only in English J, K c, L, M, N, O, and in four of these, J, K c, M, O, the child has a mammie,[147] which certainly proves an alibi for the step-mother, and confirms what Scott says. There is a step-aunt in German E and Swedish A, and the aunt in German D and the Dutch ballad, and the grandmother in English I, K a, b, German C, are perhaps meant (as the brother in Swedish B certainly is) to be step-relations and accommodating instruments.
The poisoning is shifted to a wife in English H, to an uncle in English I d, and to a sister-in-law in the Magyar version.
There is all but universal consent that the poisoning was done by serving up snakes for fish. The Magyar says a toad, English M a four-footed fish,[148] German D a well-peppered broth and a glass of red wine. English L adds a drink of hemlock stocks to the speckled trout; F, H have simply poison. The fish are distinctively eels in the Italian versions, and in English A, D, E, G, I, Swedish B. English A, J, K, M, N, O, German A-D, the Italian, Swedish, Dutch, Wendish versions, and by implication English C, D, E also, concur in saying that a part of the fish was given to a dog [dogs, cat, cats], and that death was the consequence. Bursting or swelling is characteristic of this kind of poisoning: German A, B, C, F, English D, E, and the Dutch and Wendish versions.
The dying youth or child in many cases makes a nuncupative will, or declares his last wishes, upon a suggestion proceeding from the person who is by him, commonly from the mother: English A, B, C, H, I: German A, D, E, F: the Italian, Dutch, Swedish, Danish, Magyar versions. The bequest to the poisoner is the gallows in English B, C, H, I, Italian A, B, C; hell, English A, German A, D, F, Swedish A, B, Danish; and an equivalent in German E, the Dutch and the Magyar copy. 'The Cruel Brother,' No 11, and 'Edward,' No 13, have a will of this same fashion.
In all the English versions the burden has the entreaty "Make my bed," and this is addressed to the mother in all but L, N. In H, an Irish copy, and I, an American one, the mother asks where the bed shall be made; and the answer is, In the churchyard. This feature is found again in German B, C and in the Wendish version.
The resemblance in the form of the stanza in all the versions deserves a word of remark. For the most part, the narrative proceeds in sections of two short lines, or rather half lines, which are a question and an answer, the rest of the stanza being regularly repeated. English L, N, as written (L not always), separate the question and answer; this is done, too, in Italian B, C. German E, on the contrary, has two questions and the answers in each stanza, and is altogether peculiar. Swedish B varies the burden in part, imagining father, brother, sister, etc., to ask what the little girl will give to each, and adapting the reply accordingly, "Faderen min," "Broderen min."
A Bohemian and a Catalan ballad which have two of the three principal traits of the foregoing, the poisoning and the testament, do not exhibit, perhaps have lost, the third, the employment of snakes.
The story of the first is that a mother who dislikes the wife her son has chosen attempts to poison her at the wedding feast. She sets a glass of honey before the son, a glass of poison before the bride. They exchange cups. The poison is swift. The young man leaves four horses to his brother, eight cows to his sister, his fine house to his wife. "And what to me, my son?" asks the mother. A broad mill-stone and the deep Moldau is the bequest to her. Waldau, Böhmische Granaten, II, 109, cited by Reifferscheid, p. 137 f.
The Catalan ballad seems to have been softened at the end. Here again a mother hates her daughter-in-law. She comes to the sick woman, "com qui no 'n sabès res," and asks What is the matter? The daughter says, You have poisoned me. The mother exhorts her to confess and receive the sacrament, and then make her will. She gives her castles in France to the poor and the pilgrims [and the friars], and to her brother Don Carlos [who, in one version is her husband]. Two of the versions remember the Virgin. "And to me?" "To you, my husband [my cloak, rosary], that when you go to mass you may remember me." In one version the mother asks the dying woman where she will be buried. She says At Saint Mary's. Milà, Observaciones, p. 103 f, No 5, two versions: Briz y Saltó, II, 197 f, two also, the first nearly the same as Milà's first.
Poisoning by giving a snake as food, or by infusing the venom in drink, is an incident in several other popular ballads.
Donna Lombarda attempts, at the instigation of a lover, to rid herself of her husband by pounding a serpent, or its head, in a mortar, and mixing the juice with his wine [in one version simply killing the snake and putting it in a cask]: Nigra, Canzoni del Piemonti, in Rivista Contemporanea, XII, 32 ff, four versions; Marcoaldi, p. 177, No 20; Wolf, Volkslieder aus Venetien, p. 46, No 72; Righi, Canti popolari veronesi, p. 37, No 100*; Ferraro, C. p. monferrini, p. 1, No 1; Bernoni, C. p. veneziani, Puntata V, No 1. In three of Nigra's versions and in Ferraro's the drink is offered when the husband returns from hunting. The husband, rendered suspicious by the look of the wine, or warned of his danger, forces his wife to drink first. So in a northern ballad, a mother who attempts to destroy her sons [step-sons] with a brewage of this description is obliged to drink first, and bursts with the poison: 'Eiturbyrlunar kvæði,' Íslenzk Fornkv., II, 79, No 43 A; 'Fru Gundela,' Arwidsson, II, 92, No 89; 'Signelill aa hennes synir,' Bugge, p. 95, No XX, the last half.
In one of the commonest Slavic ballads, a girl, who finds her brother an obstacle to her desires, poisons him, at the instigation and under the instruction of the man she fancies, or of her own motion, by giving him a snake to eat, or the virus in drink. The object of her passion, on being informed of what she has done, casts her off, for fear of her doing the like to him. Bohemian: 'Sestra travička,' Erben, P. n. w Čechách, 1842, I, 9, No 2, Prostonárodni české P., 1864, p. 477, No 13; Swoboda, Sbírka č. n. P., p. 19; German translations by Swoboda, by Wenzig, W. s. Märchenschatz, p. 263, I. v. Düringsfeld, Böhmische Rosen, p. 176, etc. Moravian: Sušil, p. 167, No 168. Slovak, Čelakowsky, Slowanské n. P., III, 76. Polish: Kolberg, P. L. p., I, 115, No 8, some twenty versions; Wojcicki, P. L. białochrobatow, etc., I, 71, 73, 232, 289; Pauli, P. L. polskiego, p. 81, 82: Konopka, P. L. krakowskiego, p. 125. Servian: Vuk, I, 215, No 302, translated by Talvj, II, 192, and by Kapper, Gesänge der Serben, II, 177. Russian: Čelakowsky, as above, III, 108. Etc. The attempt is made, but unsuccessfully, in Sacharof, P. russkago N., IV, 7.
A version given by De Rada, Rapsodie d'un poema albanese, p. 78, canto x, resembles the Slavic, with a touch of the Italian. A man incites a girl to poison her brother by pounding the poison out of a serpent's head and tail and mixing it with wine.
In a widely spread Romaic ballad, a mother poisons the bride whom her son has just brought home,—an orphan girl in some versions, but in one a king's daughter wedding a king's son. The cooks who are preparing the feast are made to cook for the bride the heads of three snakes [nine snakes' heads, a three-headed snake, winged snakes and two-headed adders]. In two Epirote versions the poisoned girl bursts with the effects. "[a]Τα κακα ρεθερικα]," Passow, p. 335, No 456, nearly == Zambelios, p. 753, No 41; Passow, p. 337, No 457; Tommaseo, Canti popolari, III, 135; Jeannaraki, p. 127, No 130[149]; Chasiotis (Epirote), p. 51, No 40, [a]"Ἡ βουργαροπουλα και ἡ κακη πεθερα;]" p. 103, No 22, "[a]Ὁ Διονυς και ἡ κακἡ πεθερα]." (Liebrecht, Volkskunde, p. 214.)
An Italian mother-in-law undertakes to poison her son's wife with a snake-potion. The wife, on her husband's return from the chase, innocently proposes to share the drink with him. Her husband no sooner has tasted than he falls dead. (Kaden, Italien's Wunderhorn, p. 85).
Scott cites in his preface to 'Lord Randal' a passage from a MS. chronicle of England, in which the death of King John is described as being brought about by administering to him the venom of a toad (cf. the Magyar ballad). The symptoms—swelling and rupture—are found in the Scandinavian and Epirote ballads referred to above, besides those previously noticed (p. 155). King John had asked a monk at the abbey of Swinshed how much a loaf on the table was worth. The monk answered a half-penny. The king said that if he could bring it about, such a loaf should be worth twenty pence ere half a year. The monk thought he would rather die than that this should come to pass. "And anon the monk went unto his abbot and was shrived of him, and told the abbot all that the king said, and prayed his abbot to assoil him, for he would give the king such a wassail that all England should be glad and joyful thereof. Then went the monk into a garden, and found a toad therein, and took her up, and put her in a cup, and filled it with good ale, and pricked her in every place, in the cup, till the venom came out in every place, and brought it before the king, and kneeled, and said: 'Sir, wassail: for never in your life drank ye of such a cup.' 'Begin, monk,' said the king: and the monk drank a great draught, and took the king the cup, and the king also drank a great draught, and set down the cup. The monk anon went to the firmary, and there died anon, on whose soul God have mercy, amen. And five monks sing for his soul especially, and shall while the abbey standeth. The king was anon full evil at ease, and commanded to remove the table, and asked after the monk; and men told him that he was dead, for his womb was broke in sunder. When the king heard this tiding, he commanded for to truss: but all it was for nought, for his belly began to swell from the drink that he drank, that he died within two days, the morrow after Saint Luke's day." Minstrelsy, III, 287 f. The same story in Eulogium Historiarum, ed. Haydon, III, 109 f.
B and K c are translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og skotske Folkeviser, p. 284, 286. D, by W. Grimm, 3 Altschottische Lieder, p. 3; by Schubart, p. 177; Arndt, p. 229; Doenniges, p. 79; Gerhardt, p. 83; Knortz, L. u. R. Alt-Englands, p. 174. K a by Fiedler, Geschichte der volksthümlichen schottischen Liederdichtung, II, 268. German C is translated by Jamieson, Illustrations, p. 320: Swedish A by W. and M. Howitt, Literature and Romance of Northern Europe, I, 265.
A.
From a small manuscript volume lent me by Mr William Macmath, of Edinburgh, containing four pieces written in or about 1710, and this ballad in a later hand. Charles Mackie, August, 1808, is scratched upon the binding.
1
'O where ha you been, Lord Randal, my son?
And where ha you been, my handsome young man?'
'I ha been at the greenwood; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm wearied wi hunting, and fain wad lie down.'
2
'An wha met ye there, Lord Randal, my son?
An wha met you there, my handsome young man?'
'O I met wi my true-love; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm wearied wi huntin, an fain wad lie down.'
3
'And what did she give you, Lord Randal, my son?
And what did she give you, my handsome young man?'
'Eels fried in a pan; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm wearied wi huntin, and fain wad lie down.'
4
'And wha gat your leavins, Lord Randal, my son?
And wha gat your leavins, my handsom young man?'
'My hawks and my hounds; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm wearied wi hunting, and fain wad lie down.'
5
'And what becam of them, Lord Randal, my son?
And what becam of them, my handsome young man?'
'They stretched their legs out an died; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm wearied wi huntin, and fain wad lie down.'
6
'O I fear you are poisoned, Lord Randal, my son!
I fear you are poisoned, my handsome young man!'
'O yes, I am poisoned; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie down.'
7
'What d' ye leave to your mother, Lord Randal, my son?
What d' ye leave to your mother, my handsome young man?'
'Four and twenty milk kye; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie down.'
8
'What d' ye leave to your sister, Lord Randal, my son?
What d' ye leave to your sister, my handsome young man?'
'My gold and my silver; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm sick at the heart, an I fain wad lie down.'
9
'What d' ye leave to your brother, Lord Randal, my son?
What d' ye leave to your brother, my handsome young man?'
'My houses and my lands; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie down.'
10
'What d' ye leave to your true-love, Lord Randal, my son?
What d' ye leave to your true-love, my handsome young man?'
'I leave her hell and fire; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie down.'
B.
Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 110. From Mrs Comie, Aberdeen.
1
'O whare hae ye been a' day, Lord Donald, my son?
O whare hae ye been a' day, my jollie young man?'
'I've been awa courtin; mither, mak my bed sune,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun.'
2
'What wad ye hae for your supper, Lord Donald, my son?
What wad ye hae for your supper, my jollie young man?'
'I've gotten my supper; mither, mak my bed sune,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun.'
3
'What did ye get for your supper, Lord Donald, my son?
What did ye get for your supper, my jollie young man?'
'A dish of sma fishes; mither mak my bed sune,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun.'
4
'Whare gat ye the fishes, Lord Donald, my son?
Whare gat ye the fishes, my jollie young man?'
'In my father's black ditches; mither, mak my bed sune,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun.'
5
'What like were your fishes, Lord Donald, my son?
What like were your fishes, my jollie young man?'
'Black backs and spreckld bellies; mither, mak my bed sune,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun.'
6
'O I fear ye are poisond, Lord Donald, my son!
O I fear ye are poisond, my jollie young man!'
'O yes! I am poisond; mither mak my bed sune,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun.'
7
'What will ye leave to your father, Lord Donald my son?
What will ye leave to your father, my jollie young man?'
'Baith my houses and land; mither, mak my bed sune,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun.'
8
'What will ye leave to your brither, Lord Donald, my son?
What will ye leave to your brither, my jollie young man?'
'My horse and the saddle; mither, mak my bed sune,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun.'
9
'What will ye leave to your sister, Lord Donald, my son?
What will ye leave to your sister, my jollie young man?'
'Baith my gold box and rings; mither, mak my bed sune,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun.'
10
'What will ye leave to your true-love, Lord Donald, my son?
What will ye leave to your true-love, my jollie young man?'
'The tow and the halter, for to hang on yon tree,
And lat her hang there for the poysoning o me.'
C.
Motherwell's MS., p. 69. From the recitation of Margaret Bain, in the parish of Blackford, Perthshire.
1
'What's become of your hounds, King Henrie, my son?
What's become of your hounds, my pretty little one?'
'They all died on the way; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to the heart, and I fain wald lie down.'
2
'What gat ye to your supper, King Henry, my son?
What gat ye to your supper, my pretty little one?'
'I gat fish boiled in broo; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm sick to the heart, and I fain wald lie down.'
3
'What like were the fish, King Henry, my son?
What like were the fish, my pretty little one?'
'They were spreckled on the back and white on the belly; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to the heart, and I fain wald lie down.'
4
'What leave ye to your father, King Henry, my son?
What leave ye to your father, my pretty little one?'
'The keys of Old Ireland, and all that's therein; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to the heart, and I fain wald lie down.'
5
'What leave ye to your brother, King Henry, my son?
What leave ye to your brother, my pretty little one?'
'The keys of my coffers and all that's therein; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm sick to the heart, and I fain wald lie down.'
6
'What leave ye to your sister, King Henry, my son?
What leave ye to your sister, my pretty little one?'
'The world's wide, she may go beg; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm sick to the heart, and I fain wald lie down.'
7
'What leave ye to your trew-love, King Henry, my son?
What leave ye to your trew-love, my pretty little one?'
'The highest hill to hang her on, for she's poisoned me and my hounds all; mother, make my bed soon,
Oh I'm sick to the heart, and I fain wald lie down.'
D.
Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, 1803, III, 292.
1
'O where hae ye been, Lord Randal, my son?
O where hae ye been, my handsome young man?'
'I hae been to the wild wood; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi hunting, and fain wald lie down.'
2
'Where gat ye your dinner, Lord Randal, my son?
Where gat ye your dinner, my handsome young man?'
'I din'd wi my true-love; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi hunting, and fain wald lie down.'
3
'What gat ye to your dinner, Lord Randal, my son?
What gat ye to your dinner, my handsome young man?'
'I gat eels boild in broo; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi hunting, and fain wald lie down.'
4
'What became of your bloodhounds, Lord Randal, my son?
What became of your bloodhounds, my handsome young man?'
'O they swelld and they died; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi hunting, and fain wald lie down.'
5
'O I fear ye are poisond, Lord Randal, my son!
O I fear ye are poisond, my handsome young man!'
'O yes! I am poisond; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wald lie down.'
E.
Halliwell's Popular Rhymes and Nursery Tales, p. 261. "A version still popular in Scotland," 1849.
1
'Ah where have you been, Lairde Rowlande, my son?
Ah where have you been, Lairde Rowlande, my son?'
'I've been in the wild woods; mither, mak my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi hunting, and faine would lie down.'
2
'Oh you've been at your true love's, Lairde Rowlande, my son!
Oh you've been at your true-love's, Lairde Rowlande, my son!'
'I've been at my true-love's; mither, mak my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi hunting, and faine would lie down.'
3
'What got you to dinner, Lairde Rowlande, my son?
What got you to dinner, Lairde Rowlande, my son?'
'I got eels boild in brue; mither, mak my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi hunting, and faine would lie down.'
4
'What's become of your warden, Lairde Rowlande, my son?
What's become of your warden, Lairde Rowlande, my son?'
'He died in the muirlands; mither, mak my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi hunting, and faine would lie down.'
5
'What's become of your stag-hounds, Lairde Rowlande, my son?
What's become of your stag-hounds, Lairde Rowlande, my son?'
'They swelled and they died; mither, mak my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi hunting, and faine would lie down.'
F.
Johnson's Museum, No 327, p. 337. Communicated by Burns.
1
'O where hae ye been, Lord Ronald, my son?
O where hae ye been, Lord Ronald, my son?'
'I hae been wi my sweetheart; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi the hunting, and fain wad lie down.'
2
'What got ye frae your sweetheart, Lord Ronald, my son?
What got ye frae your sweetheart, Lord Ronald, my son?'
'I hae got deadly poison; mother, make my bed soon,
For life is a burden that soon I'll lay down.'
* * * * *
G.
Illustrations of Northern Antiquities, p. 319. Originally from a clergyman's daughter, in Suffolk.
1
'Where have you been today, Billy, my son?
Where have you been today, my only man?'
'I've been a wooing; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick at heart, and fain would lay down.'
2
'What have you ate today, Billy, my son?
What have you ate today, my only man?'
'I've ate eel-pie; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick at heart, and shall die before noon.'
H.
Taken down by me, February, 1881, from the recitation of Ellen Healy, as repeated to her by a young girl at "Lackabairn," Kerry, Ireland, about 1868.
1
'Where was you all day, my own pretty boy?
Where was you all day, my comfort and joy?'
'I was fishing and fowling; mother, make my bed soon,
There 's a pain in my heart, and I mean to lie down.'
2
'What did you have for your breakfast, my own pretty boy?
What did you have for your breakfast, my comfort and joy?'
'A cup of strong poison; mother, make my bed soon,
There 's a pain in my heart, and I mean to lie down.'
3
'I fear you are poisoned, my own pretty boy,
I fear you are poisoned, my comfort and joy!'
'O yes, I am poisoned; mother, make my bed soon,
There 's a pain in my heart, and I mean to lie down.'
4
'What will you leave to your father, my own pretty boy?
What will you leave to your father, my comfort and joy?'
'I'll leave him my house and my property; mother, make my bed soon,
There 's a pain in my heart, and I mean to lie down.'
5
'What will you leave to your mother, my own pretty boy?
What will you leave to your mother, my comfort and joy?'
'I'll leave her my coach and four horses; mother, make my bed soon,
There 's a pain in my heart, and I mean to lie down.'
6
'What will you leave to your brother, my own pretty boy?
What will you leave to your brother, my comfort and joy?'
'I'll leave him my bow and my fiddle; mother, make my bed soon,
There 's a pain in my heart, and I mean to lie down.'
7
'What will you leave to your sister, my own pretty boy?
What will you leave to your sister, my comfort and joy?'
'I'll leave her my gold and my silver; mother, make my bed soon,
There 's a pain in my heart, and I mean to lie down.'
8
'What will you leave to your servant, my own pretty boy?
What will you leave to your servant, my comfort and joy?'
'I'll leave him the key of my small silver box; mother, make my bed soon,
There 's a pain in my heart, and I mean to lie down.'
9
'What will you leave to your children, my own pretty boy?
What will you leave to your children, my comfort and joy?'
'The world is wide all round for to beg; mother, make my bed soon,
There 's a pain in my heart, and I mean to lie down.'
10
'What will you leave to your wife, my own pretty boy?
What will you leave to your wife, my comfort and joy?'
'I'll leave her the gallows, and plenty to hang her; mother, make my bed soon,
There 's a pain in my heart, and I mean to lie down.'
11
'Where shall I make it, my own pretty boy?
Where shall I make it, my comfort and joy?'
'Above in the churchyard, and dig it down deep,
Put a stone to my head and a flag to my feet,
And leave me down easy until I'll take a long sleep.'
I.
a. Communicated by Mrs L. F. Wesselhoeft, of Boston, as sung to her when a child by her grandmother, Elizabeth Foster, born in Maine, who appears to have learned the ballad of her mother about 1800. b. By a daughter of Elizabeth Foster, as learned about 1820. c. By Miss Ellen Marston, of New Bedford, as learned from her mother, born 1778. d. By Mrs Cushing, of Cambridge, Mass., as learned in 1838 from a schoolmate, who is thought to have derived it from an old nurse. e. By Mrs Augustus Lowell, of Boston. f. By Mrs Edward Atkinson, of Boston, learned of Mrs A. Lowell, in girlhood. g. By Mrs A. Lowell, as derived from a friend.
1
'O where have you been, Tiranti, my son?
O where have you been, my sweet little one?'
'I have been to my grandmother's; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to my heart, and I'm faint to lie down.'
2
'What did you have for your supper, Tiranti, my son?
What did you have for your supper, my sweet little one?'
'I had eels fried in butter; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to my heart, and I'm faint to lie down.'
3
'Where did the eels come from, Tiranti, my son?
Where did the eels come from, my sweet little one?'
'From the corner of the haystack; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to my heart, and I'm faint to lie down.'
4
'What color were the eels, Tiranti, my son?
What color were the eels, my sweet little one?'
'They were streakëd and stripëd; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to my heart, and I'm faint to lie down.'
5
'What'll you give to your father, Tiranti, my son?
What'll you give to your father, my sweet little one?'
'All my gold and my silver; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to my heart, and I'm faint to lie down.'
6
'What'll you give to your mother, Tiranti, my son?
What'll you give to your mother, my sweet little one?'
'A coach and six horses; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to my heart, and I'm faint to lie down.'
7
'What'll you give to your grandmother, Tiranti, my son?
What'll you give to your grandmother, my sweet little one?'
'A halter to hang her; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to my heart, and I'm faint to lie down.'
8
'Where'll you have your bed made, Tiranti, my son?
Where'll you have your bed made, my sweet little one?'
'In the corner of the churchyard; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to my heart, and I'm faint to lie down.'
J.
Motherwell's MS., p. 238. From the recitation of Miss Maxwell, of Brediland.
1
'O whare hae ye been a' day, my bonnie wee croodlin dow?
O whare hae ye been a' day, my bonnie wee croodlin dow?'
'I 've been at my step-mother's; oh mak my bed, mammie, now!
I 've been at my step-mother's; oh mak my bed, mammie, now!'
2
'O what did ye get at your step-mother's, my bonnie wee croodlin dow?' [Twice.]
'I gat a wee wee fishie; oh mak my bed, mammie, now!' [Twice.]
3
'O whare gat she the wee fishie, my bonnie wee croodlin dow?'
'In a dub before the door; oh mak my bed, mammie, now!'
4
'What did ye wi the wee fishie, my bonnie wee croodlin dow?'
'I boild it in a wee pannie; oh mak my bed, mammy, now!'
5
'Wha gied ye the banes o the fishie till, my bonnie wee croodlin dow?'
'I gied them till a wee doggie; oh mak my bed, mammie, now!'
6
'O whare is the little wee doggie, my bonnie wee croodlin dow?
O whare is the little wee doggie, my bonnie wee croodlin doo?'
'It shot out its fit and died, and sae maun I do too;
Oh mak my bed, mammy, now, now, oh mak my bed, mammy, now!'
K.
a. Chambers' Scottish Ballads, p. 324. b. Chambers' Popular Rhymes of Scotland, 1842, p. 53. c. The Stenhouse-Laing ed. of Johnson's Museum, IV, 364*, communicated by Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe.
1
'O whaur hae ye been a' the day, my little wee croodlin doo?'
'O I 've been at my grandmother's; mak my bed, mammie, now!'
2
'O what gat ye at your grandmother's, my little wee croodlin doo?'
'I got a bonnie wee fishie; mak my bed, mammie, now!'
3
'O whaur did she catch the fishie, my bonnie wee croodlin doo?'
'She catchd it in the gutter hole: mak my bed, mammie, now!'
4
'And what did she do wi the fish, my little wee croodlin doo?'
'She boiled it in a brass pan; O mak my bed, mammie, now!'
5
'And what did ye do wi the banes o't, my bonnie wee croodlin doo?'
'I gied them to my little dog; mak my bed, mammie, now!'
6
'And what did your little doggie do, my bonnie wee croodlin doo?'
'He stretched out his head, his feet, and deed; and so will I, mammie, now!'
L.
Buchan's MSS, II, 322; Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 179.
1
'Whar hae ye been a' the day, Willie doo, Willie doo?
Whar hae ye been a' the day, Willie, my doo?'
2
'I've been to see my step-mother; make my bed, lay me down;
Make my bed, lay me down, die shall I now!'
3
'What got ye frae your step-mother, Willie doo, Willie doo?
What got ye frae your step-mother, Willie, my doo?'
4
'She gae me a speckled trout; make my bed, lay me down;
She gae me a speckled trout, die shall I now!'
5
'Whar got she the speckled trout, Willie doo, Willie doo?'
'She got it amang the heather hills; die shall I now.'
6
'What did she boil it in, Willie doo, Willie doo?'
'She boild it in the billy-pot; die shall I now!'
7
'What gaed she you for to drink, Willie doo, Willie doo?
What gaed she you for to drink, Willie, my doo?'
8
'She gaed me hemlock stocks; make my bed, lay me down;
Made in the brewing pot; die shall I now!'
9
They made his bed, laid him down, poor Willie doo, Willie doo;
He turnd his face to the wa; he 's dead now!
M.
Popular Rhymes of Scotland, 1870, p. 51. "Mrs Lockhart's copy."
1
'Where hae ye been a' the day, my bonny wee croodin doo?'
'O I hae been at my stepmother's house; make my bed, mammie, now, now, now,
Make my bed, mammie, now!'
2
'Where did ye get your dinner?' my, etc.
'I got it at my stepmother's;' make, etc.
3
'What did she gie ye to your dinner?'
'She gae me a little four-footed fish.'
4
'Where got she the four-footed fish?'
'She got it down in yon well strand;' O make, etc.
5
'What did she do with the banes o't?'
'She gae them to the little dog.'
6
'O what became o the little dog?'
'O it shot out its feet and died;' O make, etc.
N.
Kinloch's MSS, V, 347. In Dr John Hill Burton's hand.
1
'Fare hae ye been a' day, a' day, a' day,
Fare hae ye been a' day, my little wee croudlin doo?'
2
'I 've been at my step-mammie's, my step-mammie's, my step-mammie's,
I 've been at my step-mammie's; come mack my beddy now!'
3
'What got ye at yer step-mammie's,
My little wee croudlin doo?'
4
'She gied me a spreckled fishie;
Come mack my beddy now!'
5
'What did ye wi the baenies oet,
My little wee croudlin doo?'
6
'I gaed them till her little dogie;
Come mack my beddy now!'
7
'What did her little dogie syne,
My little wee croudlin doo?'
8
'He laid down his heed and feet;
And sae shall I dee now!'
O.
From a manuscript collection, copied out in 1840 or 1850, by a granddaughter of Alexander Fraser-Tytler, p. 67.
1
'O where hae ye been a' the day, my wee wee croodlin doo doo?
O where hae ye been a' the day, my bonnie wee croodlin doo?'
'O I hae been to my step-mammie's; mak my bed, mammy, noo, noo,
Mak my bed, mammy, noo!'
2
'O what did yere step-mammie gie to you?' etc.
'She gied to me a wee wee fish,' etc.
3
'[O] what did she boil the wee fishie in?'
'O she boiled it in a wee wee pan; it turned baith black an blue, blue,
It turned baith black an blue.'
4
'An what did she gie the banes o't to?'
'O she gied them to a wee wee dog;' mak, etc.
5
'An what did the wee wee doggie do then?'
'O it put out its tongue and its feet, an it deed; an sae maun I do noo, noo,
An sae maun I do noo!'
[C].
42. your father, King Henry, my son.
[I]. a.
14. faint to, an obvious corruption of fain to, is found also in b, c; d has fain wad; e, faint or fain; f, fain; g, I faint to. N. B. 8 stands 5 in the MS. copy, but is the last stanza in all others which have it.
b.
21. for your dinner.
After 2 follows:
Who cooked you the eels, Tiranti, my son? etc.
O 't was my grandmother; mother, make my bed soon, etc.
b 5 == a 3:
1. Where did she get the, eels? etc.
3. By the side of the haystack, etc.
b 6 == a 7 : 7 == a 8 : 8 == a 5.
84. and die to lie down.
a 6 is wanting in b.
c.
14. at my heart (and always).
21. O what did she give you? etc.
8. Striped eels fried, etc.
3 == a 4.
1. O how did they look? etc.
3. Ringed, streaked, and speckled, etc.
4 == a 3.
1. O where did they come from?
51. O what will you give your father, my son?
2. O what will you give him?
3. A coach and six horses.
61. O what will you give your mother, my son? as in 5.
3. All my gold and my silver.
71. O what will you give your granny? as in 5.
81. O where'll, etc.
c adds, as 9:
So this is the end of Tiranti my son,
So this is the end of my sweet little one:
His grandmother poisoned him with an old dead snake,
And he left her a halter to hang by the neck.
d.
11, etc. Tyrante.
3. O I've been to my uncle's, etc.
4. and fain wad lie doun.
23. eels and fresh butter.
3 == a 4.
3. black stripëd with yellow.
4 == a 7.
1. What'll ye will to your mither?
3. My gold and my silver.
5 == a 6.
1 What'll ye will to your father?
3. My coach and my horses.
6 == a 8.
1. What'll you will to your uncle?
3, 5 of a are wanting.
e.
14. For I'm sick at heart, and faint [fain] to lie down.
3 == a 7.
1. What will you leave your mother?
3. A box full of jewels.
41. What will you leave your sister?
3. A box of fine clothing.
5 == a 8.
3. A rope to hang her with.
6 == a 5.
1 Where shall I make it?
3, 4 of a are wanting.
f.
This copy was derived from the singing of the lady who communicated e, and they naturally agree closely.
14, fain to lie down. f 3 == e 4 : f 4 == e 3.
g.
14. For I'm sick at the heart, and I faint to lie down.
21. What did you get at your grandmother's?
3. I got eels stewed in butter.
3 == a 8.
1. What will you leave ...
41. What will you leave to your brother?
3. A full suit of mourning.
5 == a 7.
1. leave to your mother.
3. A carriage and fine horses.
6 == a 5.
3, 4 of a are wanting.
[K].
a, b, c are printed, in the publications in which they occur, in four-line stanzas.
b.
Omits 4.
61. the little doggie.
2. as I do, mammie, noo.
c.
11, my bonnie wee crooden doo: and always.
2. at my step-mither's.
2.
And what did scho gie you to eat ...
Scho gied to me a wee fishie....
31. An what did she catch the fishie in ...
4 is wanting.
[L].
Written in the MS., and printed by Buchan, in stanzas of 4 lines.
[M].
Printed by Chambers in stanzas of 4 lines, the last repeated.
[N].
The second line of each stanza is written as two in the MS.
[O].
The stanza, being written with short lines in the manuscript, is of seven lines, including the repetitions.