N - The English and Scottish popular ballads, volume 4 (of 5) - 294

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‘Tamlane,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 96 a; in the handwriting of John Leyden.

‘Gowd rings I can buy, Thomas,

Green mantles I can spin,

But gin ye take my maidenheid

I’ll neer get that again.’

Out and spak the queen o fairies,

Out o a shot o wheat,

‘She that has gotten young Tamlane

Has gotten my heart’s delight.’

40. The Queen of Elfan’s Nourice.

P. 358, II, 505 b, III, 505 b. More cases in ‘Fairy Births and Human Midwives,’ E. S. Hartland, The Archæological Review, IV, 328 ff.

The elf-woman’s daughter has lain on the floor nineteen days in travail, for she cannot be delivered unless a mortal man lay hands upon her. Hrólfr is lured to the elf-woman’s hall for this purpose. Göngu-Hrólfs Saga, c. 15, Rafn, Fornaldar Sögur, III, 276, Ásmundarson, Fornaldarsögur Norðrlanda, III, 174, 175. (G. L. K.)

41. Hind Etin.

P. 361 b, III, 506 a. Danish. X, ‘Agnete i Bjærget,’ Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 3, No 2.

364 a, III, 506 a. Danish. M-O, ‘Agnete i Havet,’ Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 6, No 3, A-C.

365 a, II, 506 a. German. J. ‘Die schöne Dorothea,’ Gadde-Gloddow, V. 1. aus Hinterpommern, Zeitschrift für Volkskunde, III, 227.

42. Clerk Colvill.

P. 374 b. Danish. ‘Elvedansen,’ Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 10, 372, No 5, A, B, C.

380, II, 506 a, III, 506 a. PP, QQ, ‘Arnaud,’ Quercy, Daymard, p. 167 f., 34 verses, 26 verses. RR, ‘Lou Counte Arnaud,’ Bas-Quercy, Soleville, Chants p. du Bas-Quercy, 1889, p. 13, 10 stanzas. SS, version limousine, La Tradition, V, 184.

384, III, 506 a. Spanish. ‘Don Pedro,’ El Folk-Lore Frexnense y Bético-Extremeño, Fregenal, 1883–84; (1) p. 129 (and 180), Zafra, Badajoz, D. Sergio Hernandez; (2) p. 182, Badajoz; (3) p. 183, Montanchez, provincia de Cácares; (4) Constantina, provincia de Sevilla, D. Antonio Machado y Alvarez.

386 a. Bohemian. A a also==Wenzig, Slawische V. 1., 1830, p. 47.

43. The Broomfield Hill.

P. 392 b, III, 506. Sleep-thorn, sleep-pin. Add: Curtin, Myths and Folk-Lore of Ireland, 1890, pp. 40, 130 ff., 200; Hyde, Beside the Fire, Irish-Gaelic Folk-Stories, p. 43; MacInnes, Folk and Hero Tales, 1890, p. 141 (cf. p. 459).

Sleep-pin, Wlisłocki, M. u. S. der transylvanischen Zigeuner, p. 46. Compare the wand in J. H. Knowles’s Folk-Tales of Kashmir, p. 199. (G. L. K.)

393, III, 506 b. Italian. ‘La bella Brunetta,’ Ferrari, C. p. in San Pietro Capofiume; ‘La Bevanda sonnifera,’ Giannini, Canzoni del Contado di Massa Lunense, Archivio, VII, 109, No 11, 279, No 7.

44. The Twa Magicians.

P. 400 a, II, 506 b, III, 506 b. French. W, ‘J’ai fait une maîtresse,’ Daymard, p. 51, Quercy. X, ‘Margarideto,’ Soleville, Chants p. du Bas-Quercy, p. 94.

Italian. Add to Tigri’s rispetto: Vigo, Canti p. siciliani, 1870–74, No 1711, Pitrè, Studj di Poesia pop., p. 76; Casetti e Imbriani, C. p. delle Provincie meridionali, p. 187: all cited by d’Ancona, Poesia pop., p. 341.

400 b. Bohemian. Waldau, Böhmische Granaten, II, 75, No 107, dove, gun; fish, hook; hare, dog.

401 b. Tale in Curtin’s Myths and Folk-Lore of Ireland, pp. 152–6.

Cf. also Notes and Queries, 7th Series, IX, 101, 295; Clouston, Popular Tales and Fictions, I, 413 ff. (G. L. K.)

45. King John and the Bishop.

P. 403 f. Roxburghe, III, 883, is B. Roxburghe, III, 494 was printed and sold by John White, Newcastle-upon-Tyne, “circa 1777:” Ebsworth, Roxburghe Ballads, VI, 749. ‘The King and the Bishop,’ Roxburghe, III, 170, is printed in the same volume, p. 751, and ‘The Old Abbot and King Olfrey,’ Pepys, II, 127, at p. 753.

405 b, II, 507. An Armenian, a Slovak, and a Hungarian version, by H. v. Wlisłocki, Zs. f. vergleichende Litteraturgeschichte, u. s. w., N. F., IV, 106 ff., 1891.

404 b, 2d paragraph. Of this kind is the Russian tale, How Fraud made entrance into Russia. Ivan the Terrible demands tribute of neighboring princes. They propose to him three riddles: if he guesses them, they are to pay twelve casks of gold and tribute; if he fails, they take his kingdom. A marvellous old man helps the Tsar out. He has been promised a cask of gold, but the Tsar fills one of the casks two thirds with sand, and offers that. The old man tells him that he, the Tsar, has brought Fraud into the land, never to be eradicated. Ivan begs him to take one of the other casks, but in vain. The old man vanishes; it was God. Rybnikof, II, 232, No 39. (W. W.)

46. Captain Wedderburn’s Courtship.

P. 417 a, II, 507 b, III, 507 a. Heads on spikes; only one spike without a head: Curtin, Myths and Folk-Lore of Ireland, 1890, pp. 37, 114 f, 193; Mac Innes, Folk and Hero Tales, Folk-Lore Society, 1890, pp. 79, 453.

47. Proud Lady Margaret.

P. 426. A. Two stanzas (6, 9) and a line were wanting in the copy supplied by Hamilton. March 23, 1803, Hamilton sent to Scott the following verses, “to come in at the first break.” There were still four lines, which should come before these, that Hamilton could not recollect. “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 117. See B 17, C 11, where also there is defect, and D 6, 7.

‘O wherein leems the beer?’ she said,

‘Or wherein leems the wine?

O wherein leems the gold?’ she said,

‘Or wherein leems the twine?’

‘The beer is put in a drinking-horn,

The wine in glasses fine,

There’s gold in store between two kings,

When they are fighting keen,

And the twine is between a lady’s two hands

When they are washen clean.’

49. The Twa Brothers.

P. 436, II, 14, III, 381 b. ‘Tell my mother I am married,’ etc.: so in the beautiful Roumanian ‘Miorita,’ Alecsandri, p. 3.

438. A b. ‘The Two Brothers,’ Walks near Edinburgh, by Margaret Warrender, 1890, p. 60. Given to Lady John Scott many years ago by Campbell Riddell, brother of Sir James Riddell of Ardnamurchan.

There were two brothers in the north,

Lord William and Lord John,

And they would try a wrestling match,

So to the fields they’ve gone, gone, gone,

So to the fields they’ve gone.

They wrestled up, they wrestled down,

Till Lord John fell on the ground.

And a knife into Lord William’s pocket

Gave him a deadly wound.

‘Oh take me on your back, dear William,’ he said,

‘And carry me to the burnie clear,

And wash my wound sae deep and dark,

Maybe’t will bleed nae mair.’

He took him up upon his back,

An carried him to the burnie clear,

But aye the mair he washed his wound

It aye did bleed the mair.

‘Oh take me on your back, dear William,’ he said,

‘And carry me to the kirkyard fair,

And dig a grave sae deep and dark,

And lay my body there.’

‘But what shall I say to my father dear

When he says, Willie, what’s become of John?’

‘Oh tell him I am gone to Greenock town,

To buy him a puncheon of rum.’

‘And what shall I say to my sister dear

When she says, Willie, what’s become of John?’

‘Oh tell her I’ve gone to London town

To buy her a marriage-gown.’

‘But what shall I say to my grandmother dear

When she says, Willie, what’s become of John?’

‘Oh tell her I’m in the kirkyard dark,

And that I’m dead and gone.’

53. Young Beichan.

P. 459 a. Danish. ‘Ellen henter sin Fæstemand,’ Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 125, No 34, A, B.

462 a, III, 507 b. ‘Gerineldo,’ again, in Munthe, Folkpoesie från Asturien, No 2, second part, p. 112 b (Upsala Universitets Årsskrift); but imperfect.

462 b, 463 a, II, 508 a. Another version of the French ballad (‘Tout au milieu de Paris’) in Meyrac, Traditions, etc., des Ardennes, p. 238.

463 ff. ‘Earl Bichet,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 83, Abbotsford. Communicated to Scott by Mrs Christiana Greenwood, London, May 27, 1806 (Letters, I, No 189), as heard by her in her youth at Longnewton, near Jedburgh, “where most of the old women could sing it.”

Earl Bichet’s sworn a mighty aith,

And a solemn vow made he,

That he wad to the Holy Land,

To the Holy Land wad he gae.

When he came to the Holy Land,

Amang the Infidels sae black,

They hae consulted them amang

The Earl Bichet for to take.

And when they basely him betrayd

They put him into fetters strang,

And threw him in a dungeon dark,

To spend the weary night sae lang.

Then in ilka shoulder they bored a hole,

In his right shoulder they bored three,

And they gard him draw the coops o wine,

Till he was sick and like to dee.

Then they took him out o their carts and wains,

And put him in a castle of stone;

When the stars shone bright, and the moon gave light,

The sad Earl Bichet he saw none.

The king had only ae daughter,

And it was orderd sae to be

That, as she walked up and down,

By the strong-prison-door cam she.

Then she heard Earl Bichet sad

Making his pityful mane,

In doolfu sounds and moving sighs

Wad melt a heart o stane.

‘When I was in my ain countrie,

I drank the wine sae clear;

But now I canna get bare bread;

O I wis I had neer come here!

‘When I was in my ain countrie,

I drank the wine sae red;

But now I canna get a bite o bare bread;

O I wis that I were dead!’

* * * * * *

‘Gae bring to me the good leaven [bread],

To eat when I do need;

Gae bring to me the good red wine,

To drink when I do dread.’

‘Gae ask my father for his leave

To bring them unto me,

And for the keys o the prison-door,

To set Earl Bichet free.’

* * * * * *

Then she went into her ain chamber

And prayd most heartilie,

And when that she rose up again

The keys fell at her knee.

* * * * * *

Then they hae made a solemn vow

Between themselves alone,

That he was to marry no other woman,

And she no other man.

And Earl Bichet’s to sail to fair Scotland,

Far oer the roaring faem,

And till seven years were past and gone

This vow was to remain.

Then she built him a stately ship,

And set it on the sea,

Wi four-and-twenty mariners,

To bear him companie.

‘My blessing gae wi ye, Earl Bichet,

My blessing gae wi thee;

My blessing be wi a’ the mariners

That are to sail wi thee.’

Then they saild east, and they saild wast,

Till they saild to Earl Bichet’s yett,

When nane was sae ready as his mother dear

To welcome her ain son back.

‘Ye’re welcome, welcome, Earl Bichet,

Ye’re dearly welcome hame to me!

And ye’re as welcome to Lady Jean,

For she has lang looked for thee.’

‘What haste, what haste, O mother dear,

To wale a wife for me?

For what will I do wi the bonny bride

That I hae left ayont the sea?’

When seven years were past and gone,

Seven years but and a day,

The Saracen lady took a crying in her sleep,

And she has cried sair till day.

‘O daughter, is it for a man o might?

Or is it for a man o mine?’

‘It’s neither for a man o might,

Nor is it for a man o thine.

‘Bat if ye’ll build me a ship, father,

And set it on the sea,

I will away to some other land,

To seek a true-love free.’

Then he built her a gallant ship,

And set it on the sea,

Wi a hunder and fifty mariners,

To bear her companie.

At every corner o the ship

A siller bell did hing,

And at ilka jawing o the faem

The siller bells did ring.

Then they saild east, and they saild wast,

Till they cam to Earl Bichet’s yett;

Nane was sae ready as the porter

To open and let her in thereat.

‘O is this Earl Bichet’s castle-yett?

Or is that noble knight within?

For I am weary, sad and wet,

And far I’ve come ayont the faem.’

‘He’s up the stair at supper set,

And mony a noble knight wi him;

He’s up the stair wi his bonny bride,

And mony a lady gay wi them.’

She’s put her hand into her purse

And taen out fifty merks and three:

‘If this be the Earl Bichet’s castle,

Tell him to speak three words wi me.

‘Tell him to send me a bit o his bread

But an a bottle o his wine,

And no forget the lady’s love

That freed him out o prison strong.’

The porter he gaed up the stair,

And mony bow and binge gae he;

‘What means, what means,’ cried Earl Bichet,

‘O what means a’ this courtesie?’

‘O I hae been porter at yere yett

These four-and-twenty years and three;

But the fairest lady now stands thereat

That ever my two eyes did see.

‘She has a ring on her foremost finger,

And on her middle-finger three;

She has as much gowd about her waist

As wad buy earldoms o land for thee.

‘She wants to speak three words wi thee,

And a little o yere bread and wine,

And not to forget the lady’s love

That freed ye out o prison strong.’

‘I’ll lay my life,’ cried Earl Bichet,

‘It’s my true love come oer the sea!’

Then up and spake the bride’s mother,

‘It’s a bonny time to speak wi thee!’

‘O your doughter came here on a horse’s back,

But I’ll set her hame in a chariot free;

For, except a kiss o her bonny mouth,

Of her fair body I am free.’

There war thirty cups on the table set,

He gard them a’ in flinders flee;

There war thirty steps into the stair,

And he has louped them a’ but three.

Then he took her saftly in his arms,

And kissed her right tenderlie:

‘Ye’re welcome here, my ain true love,

Sae dearly welcome ye’re to me!’

* * * * * *

7³. doolfu: l struck out.

At the end: “Some verses are wanting at the conclusion.”

The following stanza, entered by Scott in the quarto volume “Scottish Songs,” 1795, fol. 29 back, Abbotsford library, N. 3, is much too good to be lost:

Young Bechin was in Scotland born,

He longed far countries for to see,

And he bound himself to a savage Moor,

Who used him but indifferently.