B
Kinloch MSS, VII, 217; from the recitation of Jenny Watson.
1
It was at dinner as they sat,
And whan they drank the wine,
How happy war the laird and lady
Of bonnie Wariston!
2
The lady spak but ae word,
The matter to conclude;
The laird strak her on the mouth,
Till she spat out o blude.
3
She did not know the way
Her mind to satisfy,
Till evil cam into [her] head
All by the Enemy.
* * * * * *
4
‘At evening when ye sit,
And whan ye drink the wine,
See that ye fill the glass weill up
To the laird o Wariston.’
5
So at table whan they sat,
And whan they drank the wine,
She made the glass aft gae round
To the laird o Wariston.
6
The nurice she knet the knot,
And O she knet it sicker!
The lady did gie it a twig,
Till it began to wicker.
7
But word’s gane doun to Leith,
And up to Embro toun,
That the lady she has slain the laird,
The laird o Waristoun.
8
Word has gane to her father, the grit Dunipace,
And an angry man was he;
Cries, Gar mak a barrel o pikes,
And row her down some lea!
9
She said, Wae be to ye, Wariston,
I wish ye may sink for sin!
For I have been your wife
These nine years, running ten;
And I never loved ye sae well
As now whan ye’re lying slain.
10
‘But tak aff this gowd brocade,
And let my petticoat stay,
And tie a handkerchief round my face,
That the people may not see.’