The very pathetic passage in which the dying youth directs that father, mother, and sister shall be kept in ignorance of his death, and then, feeling how vain the attempt to conceal the fact from his true-love will be, bids that she be informed that he is in his grave and will never come back, is too truly a touch of nature to be found only here. Something similar occurs in 'Mary Hamilton,' where, however, the circumstances are very different:
'And here's to the jolly sailor lad
That sails upon the faeme!
And let not my father nor mother get wit
But that I shall come again.
'And here's to the jolly sailor lad
That sails upon the sea!
But let not my father nor mother get wit
O the death that I maun dee.'
In a fine Norse ballad (see 'Brown Robyn's Confession,' further on) a man who is to be thrown overboard to save a ship takes his leave of the world with these words:
'If any of you should get back to land,
And my foster-mother ask for me,
Tell her I'm serving in the king's court,
And living right merrily.
'If any of you should get back to land,
And my true-love ask for me,
Bid her to marry another man,
For I am under the sea.'
A baron, who has been mortally wounded in a duel, gives this charge to his servant:
'Faites mes compliments à ma femme,
Mais ne lui dites pas que j'ai été tué;
Mais dites lui que je serai allé à Paris,
Pour saluer le roi Louis.
'Dites que je serai allé à Paris,
Pour saluer le roi Louis,
Et que j'ai acheté un nouveau cheval,
Le petit cœur de mon cheval était trop gai.'
(Le Seigneur de Rosmadec, Luzel, I, 368/369, 374/375.)