It maks my heart aye sair.
P. 210 b, to III, 500. Mr Macmath informs me that the manuscript of Motherwell here referred to is the same as that already printed, and correctly printed, at III, 500 f.
FOOTNOTES:
[126] All the ballads in Scott’s Minstrelsy, excepting a few pieces, of which only ‘Cospatrick’ and ‘The Bonny Hind’ require mention, were translated in Historische und romantische Balladen der Schottischen Grenzlande, Zwickau, 1826-7, 7 small vols, by Elise von Hohenhausen, Willibald Alexis, and Wilhelm von Lüdemann, a work now rare, which has just come to hand. Registering these translations here, in 53 entries, would require an unwarrantable space.
[127] Mild Mary is an appellation which occurs elsewhere (as in No 91 E), and Mary Hamilton and Mary mild are interchangeable in X. It is barely worth remarking that Myle, Moil, in C, S, are merely varieties of pronunciation, and Miles in W, an ordinary kind of corruption.
[128] In the 18th century we have ‘Derwentwater’ and ‘Rob Roy,’ both of slight value; in the 17th ‘The Fire of Frendraught’ and ‘The Baron of Brackley,’ both fairly good ballads, and others of some merit; but nothing in either to be compared with ‘Mary Hamilton.’
[129] As to the “ballads” about the Maries mentioned by Knox, I conceive that these may mean nothing more than verses of any sort to the discredit of these ladies.
GLOSSARY
Notwithstanding every effort to make this glossary as complete as possible, there remain not a few words and phrases with which I can do nothing satisfactory. This is the case not only with ballads from recent tradition, but with some that were taken down in writing three hundred years ago or more.
At every stage of oral transmission we must suppose that some accidental variations from what was delivered would be introduced, and occasionally some wilful variations. Memory will fail at times; at times the listener will hear amiss, or will not understand, and a perversion of sense will ensue, or absolute nonsense,—nonsense which will be servilely repeated, and which repetition may make more gross. Dr Davidson informs me that one of his female relatives rendered ‘an echo shrill did make’ (in Chevy Chace, 10) ‘an achish yirl did make,’ and that he took ‘aching or frightened earl’ to be the meaning until he read the piece. Happy are we when we are sure of the nonsense; as when, in The Gypsy Laddie, ‘they cast their glamourie owre her’ is turned into ‘they called their grandmother over.’ “The combination of two words into one,” says Dr Davidson, “is not rare in Scotch, nor is the reverse process. For example, the word ‘hypochondriac’ is turned into ‘keepach and dreeach,’ and the two parts often used separately. ‘I’m unco keepach’ and ‘I’m unco dreeach’ are common expressions among old people. Imagine an etymologist, ignorant of the facts, trying to discover the etymology of ‘keepach’ or of ‘dreeach.’” Words of one or two syllables are long enough for the simple; a laboring man of my acquaintance calls rheumatism ‘the tism’: what are the other syllables to such, who understand no one of the three? Learned words do not occur in ballads; still an old native word will be in the same danger of metamorphosis. But, though unfamiliarity naturally ends in corruption, mishearing may have the like effect where the original phrase is in no way in fault; hence, perhaps, ‘with a bretther a degs ye’ll clear up my nags,’ ‘a tabean briben kame,’ ‘I’ll have that head of thine, to enter plea att my iollye,’ etc.