22 Then he cut aff her head
fram her lily breast-bane,
And he hung't up in the kitchen,
it made a' the ha shine.
23 The lord sat in England,
a drinking the wine:
'I wish a' may be weel
with my lady at hame;
For the rings of my fingers
the're now burst in twain!'
24 He saddled his horse,
and he came riding doun,
But as soon as he viewed,
Balankin was in.
25 He had na weel stepped
twa steps up the stair,
Till he saw his pretty young son
lying dead on the floor.
26 He had not weel stepped
other twa up the stair,
Till he saw his pretty lady
lying dead in despair.
27 He hanged Balankin
out over the gate,
And he burnt the fause nurice,
being under the grate.
C
Motherwell's MS., p. 9: from Edward King, weaver, Kilbarchan, taken from the recitation of his mother, an old woman.
1 Lamerlinkin, as gude a mason
as eer laid a stane,
Built a house to Lord Arran,
but entrance had nane.
2 Says the lord to his lady,
when going abroad,
Take care of Lamerlinkin,
wha bides in the wood.