"O haud your tongue, dochter, ye'll get better than he." "O say na sae, mither, for that canna be; Though Drumlie is richer, and greater than he, Yet if I maun lo'e him, I'll certainly dee.

"Where will I get a bonny boy, to win hose and shoon, Will gae to Glenlogie, and come again soon?" "O here am I, a bonny boy, to win hose and shoon, Will gae to Glenlogie, and come again soon."

When he gaed to Glenlogie, 'twas "Wash and go dine," 'Twas "Wash ye, my pretty boy, wash and go dine." "O 'twas ne'er my father's fashion, and it ne'er shall be mine, To gar a lady's errand wait till I dine.

"But there is, Glenlogie, a letter for thee." The first line he read, a low smile ga'e he; The next line he read, the tear blindit his e'e; But the last line he read, he gart the table flee.

"Gar saddle the black horse, gar saddle the brown; Gar saddle the swiftest steed e'er rade frae the town;" But lang ere the horse was brought round to the green, O bonnie Glenlogie was twa mile his lane.

When he cam' to Glenfeldy's door, sma' mirth was there; Bonnie Jean's mother was tearing her hair; "Ye're welcome, Glenlogie, ye're welcome," said she "Ye're welcome, Glenlogie, your Jeanie to see."

Pale and wan was she, when Glenlogie gaed ben, But red rosy grew she whene'er he sat down; She turned awa' her head, but the smile was in her e'e; "O binna feared, mither, I'll maybe no dee."

* * * * *

GET UP AND BAR THE DOOR

It fell about the Martinmas time, And a gay time it was than, That our gudewife had puddings to mak' And she boil'd them in the pan.

The wind blew cauld frae east and north, And blew intil the floor; Quoth our gudeman to our gudewife, "Get up and bar the door."

"My hand is in my hussyskep, Gudeman, as ye may see; An it shou'dna be barr'd this hunder year, It's ne'er be barr'd by me."

They made a paction 'tween them twa, They made it firm and sure, That the first word whaever spak, Should rise and bar the door.

Than by there came twa gentlemen, At twelve o'clock at night, Whan they can see na ither house, And at the door they light.

"Now whether is this a rich man's house, Or whether is it a poor?" But ne'er a word wad ane o' them speak, For barring of the door.

And first they ate the white puddings, And syne they ate the black: Muckle thought the gudewife to hersell, Yet ne'er a word she spak.

Then ane unto the ither said, "Here, man, tak ye my knife; Do ye tak aff the auld man's beard, And I'll kiss the gudewife."

"But there's na water in the house, And what shall we do than?" "What ails ye at the pudding bree That boils into the pan?"

O up then started our gudeman, An angry man was he; "Will ye kiss my wife before my een, And scaud me wi' pudding bree?"

O up then started our gudewife, Gied three skips on the floor; "Gudeman, ye've spak the foremost word; Get up and bar the door."

* * * * *

THE LAWLANDS O' HOLLAND.

"The luve that I hae chosen, I'll therewith be content; The saut sea sail be frozen Before that I repent. Repent it sall I never Until the day I dee; But the Lawlands o' Holland Hae twinned my luve and me.

"My luve he built a bonny ship, And set her to the main, Wi' twenty-four brave mariners To sail her out and hame. But the weary wind began to rise, The sea began to rout, And my luve and his bonny ship Turned withershins about.

"There sall nae mantle cross my back, No kaim gae in my hair, Sall neither coal nor candle-light Shine in my bower mair; Nor sall I choose anither luve Until the day I dee, Sin' the Lawlands o' Holland Hae twinned my luve and me."

"Noo haud your tongue, my daughter dear, Be still, and bide content; There are mair lads in Galloway; Ye needna sair lament." "O there is nane in Galloway, There's nane at a' for me. I never lo'ed a lad but ane, And he's drowned i' the sea."

* * * * *

THE TWA CORBIES.

As I was walking all alane, I heard twa corbies making a maen; The tane into the t'ither did say, "Whaur shall we gang and dine the day?"

"O doun beside yon auld fail dyke, I wot there lies a new-slain knight; Nae living kens that he lies there, But his hawk, his hound, and his lady fair,

"His hound is to the hunting gane, His hawk to fetch the wildfowl hame, His lady's ta'en another mate, Sae we may mak' our dinner sweet.

"O we'll sit on his white hause bane, And I'll pyke out his bonny blue e'en, Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair, We'll theek our nest when it blaws bare.

"Mony a ane for him makes maen, But nane shall ken whaur he is gane; Over his banes when they are bare, The wind shall blaw for evermair."

* * * * *

HELEN OF KIRCONNELL.

I wad I were where Helen lies; Night and day on me she cries; O that I were where Helen lies On fair Kirconnell lea!

Curst be the heart that thought the thought, And curst the hand that fired the shot, When in my arms burd Helen dropt, And died to succor me!

O think na but my heart was sair When my Love dropt down and spak nae mair! I laid her down wi' meikle care On fair Kirconnell lea.

As I went down the water-side, Nane but my foe to be my guide, Nane but my foe to be my guide, On fair Kirconnell lea;

I lighted down my sword to draw, I hackA(d him in pieces sma', I hackA(d him in pieces sma', For her sake that died for me.

O Helen fair, beyond compare! I'll make a garland of thy hair Shall bind my heart for evermair Until the day I dee.

O that I were where Helen lies! Night and day on me she cries; Out of my bed she bids me rise, Says, "Haste and come to me!"

O Helen fair! O Helen chaste! If I were with thee, I were blest, Where thou lies low and takes thy rest On fair Kirconnell lea.

I wad my grave were growing green, A winding-sheet drawn ower my een, And I in Helen's arms lying, On fair Kirconnell lea.

I wad I were where Helen lies; Night and day on me she cries; And I am weary of the skies, Since my Love died for me.

* * * * *

WALY WALY.

O waly waly up the bank, And waly waly down the brae, And waly waly yon burn-side Where I and my Love wont to gae! I leant my back unto an aik, I thought it was a trusty tree; But first it bow'd, and syne it brak, Sae my true Love did lichtly me.

O waly waly, but love be bonny A little time while it is new; But when 'tis auld, it waxeth cauld And fades awa' like morning dew. O wherefore should I busk my head? Or wherefore should I kame my hair? For my true Love has me forsook, And says he'll never loe me mair.

Now Arthur-seat sall be my bed; The sheets sall ne'er be prest by me: Saint Anton's well sall be my drink, Since my true Love has forsaken me. Marti'mas wind, when wilt thou blaw, And shake the green leaves aff the tree? O gentle Death, when wilt thou come? For of my life I am wearie.

'Tis not the frost, that freezes fell, Nor blawing snaw's inclemencie; 'Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry, But my Love's heart grown cauld to me. When we came in by Glasgow town We were a comely sight to see; My Love was clad in black velvet, And I mysell in cramasie.

But had I wist, before I kist, That love had been sae ill to win; I had lockt my heart in a case of gowd And pinn'd it with a siller pin. And, O! that my young babe were born, And set upon, the nurse's knee, And I mysell were dead and gane, And the green grass growing over me!

* * * * *

LORD RONALD.

"O where hae ye been, Lord Ronald, my son, O where hae ye been, my handsome young man?" "I hae been to the wild wood; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."

"Where gat ye your dinner, Lord Ronald, my son? Where gat ye your dinner, my handsome young man?" "I dined wi' my true-love; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."

"What gat ye to your dinner, Lord Ronald, my son? What gat ye to your dinner, my handsome young man?" "I gat eels boil'd in broo'; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."

"What became of your bloodhounds, Lord Ronald, my son? What became of your bloodhounds, my handsome young man?" "O they swell'd and they died; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."

"O I fear ye are poison'd, Lord Ronald, my son! O I fear ye are poison'd, my handsome young man!" "O yes! I am poison'd! mother, make my bed soon, For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wald lie down."

* * * * *

EDWARD, EDWARD.

'Why dois your brand sae drap wi bluid, Edward, Edward? Why dois your brand sae drap wi bluid, And why sae sad gang yee O?' 'O I hae killed my hauke sae guid, Mither, mither, O I hae killed my hauke sae guid, And I had nae mair bot hee O.'

'Your haukis bluid was nevir sae reid, Edward, Edward, Your haukis bluid was nevir sae reid, My deir son, I tell thee O.' 'O I hae killed my reid-roan steid, Mither, mither, O I hae killed my reid-roan steid, That erst was sae fair and frie O.'

'Your steid was auld, and ye hae gat mair, Edward, Edward, Your steid was auld, and ye hae gat mair, Sum other dule ye drie O.' 'O I hae killed my fadir deir, Mither, mither, O I hae killed my fadir deir, Alas, and wae is mee O!'

'And whatten penance wul ye drie for that, Edward, Edward? 'And whatten penance wul ye drie for that? My deir son, now tell me O.' 'He set my feit in yonder boat, Mither, mither, He set my feit in yonder boat, And He fare ovir the sea O.'

'And what wul ye doe wi your towirs and your ha, Edward, Edward? And what wul ye doe wi your towirs and your ha, That were sae fair to see O?' 'Ile let thame stand tul they doun fa, Mither, mither, Ile let thame stand tul they doun fa, For here nevir mair maun I bee O.'

'And what wul ye leive to your bairns and your wife, Edward, Edward? And what wul ye leive to your bairns and your wife, When ye gang ovir the sea O?' 'The warldis room, late them beg thrae life, Mither, mither, The warldis room, late them beg thrae life, For thame nevir mair wul I see O.'

'And what wul ye leive to your ain mither deir, Edward, Edward? And what wul ye leive to your ain mither deir, My deir son, now tell me O.' 'The curse of hell frae me sall ye beir, Mither, mither, The curse of hell frae me sall ye beir, Sic counseils ye gave to me O.'

* * * * *



NOTES

THE WEE WEE MAN. Mainly after Herd. Given also by Motherwell, Buchan, and Kinloch, and in Caw's "Poetical Museum." Shathmont, a six inch measure. Lap, leaped. Jimp, neat.

TAMLANE. Mainly after Aytoun's collated version. Stanzas 16-19, obtained by Scott "from a gentleman residing near Langholm," are too modern in diction to harmonize well with the rest, but are retained here because of their fidelity to the ancient beliefs of the country folk about fairies. Widely varying versions are given in Johnson's "Museum," communicated by Burns, under title of Tam Lin; in the Glenriddell MS. under title of Young Tom Line; by Herd, under title of Kertonha, corruption of Carterhaugh; by Motherwell, under titles of Young Tamlin and Tomaline; by Buchan, under titles of Tam-a-line and Tam a-Lin; and in the Campbell MS. under title of Young Tam Lane. There are humorous Scottish songs, too, of Tam o Lin, Tam o the Linn, Tom a Lin, and Tommy Linn. The ballad is of respectable antiquity, the Tayl of the Yong Tamlene and the dance of Thom of Lyn being noticed in a work as old as the "Complaynt of Scotland" (1548); yet it seems to have no Continental cousins, but to be strictly of Scottish origin. It belongs to Selkirkshire, whose peasants still point out upon the plain of Carterhaugh, about a mile above Selkirk, the fairy rings in the grass. Preen'd, decked. Gars, makes. Bree, brow, Sained, baptized, Snell, keen. Teind, tithe. Borrow, ransom. Cast a compass, draw a circle. Elrish, elvish. Gin, if. Maik, mate. Aske, lizard. Bale, fire. But and, and also. Tree, wood. Coft, bought.

TRUE THOMAS. Mainly after Scott. This is one of the ballads written down from the recital of the "good Mrs. Brown," to whose admirable memory ballad-lovers are so deeply indebted. It is given in the Brown MS. as Thomas Rymer and Queen of Elfland; in the Campbell MS. as Thomas the Rhymer. Scott obtained his excellent version from "a lady residing not far from Ercildoune." This Thomas the Rhymer, or True Thomas, or Thomas of Ercildoune, was a veritable personage, who dwelt in the village of Ercildoune situate by "Leader's silver tide" some two miles above its junction with the Tweed. Tradition has it that his date was the thirteenth century and his full name Thomas Learmont. He was celebrated as poet and prophet, the rustics believing that his gift of soothsaying was imparted by the Fairy Queen, who kept him with her in Elfland for seven years, permitting him then to return to the upper world for a season and utter his oracles, but presently recalling him to her mysterious court. A fragmentary old poem, showing probable traces, as Jamieson suggests, of the Rhymer's own authorship, tells this famous adventure in language whose antiquated form cannot disguise its sweetness. The melancholy likelihood seems to be that True Thomas was a fibbing Thomas, after all, and invented this story of his sojourn in Elfland to gain credit for his poetical prophecies, which claim to have first proceeded from the mouth of the Fairy Queen, when

"Scho broghte hym agayne to Eldone tree, Vndir nethe that grenewode spraye; In Huntlee bannkes es mery to bee, Whare fowles synges bothe nyght and daye."

Ferlie, wonder. Ilka tett, each lock (of hair). Louted, bowed. Harp and carp, play and talk. Leven, lawn. Stern-light, star-light. Dought, could.

THE ELFIN KNIGHT. After Aytoun's version framed by collation from copies given by Motherwell, Kinloch, and Buchan. These were in the main recovered by recitation, although there is a broadside copy of the ballad in the Pepysian collection at Cambridge. Fragments of the story have been handed down in tavern-songs and nursery-rhymes, and it is to be found, more or less disguised, in the literatures of many countries, European and Asiatic. It is only in our own versions, however, that the outwitted knight is a supernatural being, usually an elf, though sometimes degenerating into "the Deil." Nowhere out of canny Scotland does his ungallantry debar him from the human ranks. Sark, shirt. Gin, if. Tyne, prong. Shear, reap. Bigg, build. Loof, hollow of the hand. But (candle, etc.), without (candle, etc.)

LADY ISOBEL AND THE ELF-KNIGHT. Mainly after Buchan's version entitled The Water o' Wearie's Well, although it is in another version given by Buchan, under title of The Gowans sae Gay, that the name of the lady is disclosed, and the elfin nature of the eccentric lover revealed. In that ballad Lady Isobel falls in love with the elf-knight on hearing him

"blawing his horn, The first morning in May,"

and this more tuneful version retains in the first two stanzas a fading trace of the fairy element and the magic music, the bird, whose song may be supposed to have caused the lady's heartache, being possibly the harper in elfin disguise. In most of the versions, however, the knight is merely a human knave, usually designated as Fause Sir John, and the lady is frequently introduced as May Colven or Colvin or Collin or Collean, though also as Pretty Polly. The story is widely circulated, appearing in the folk-songs of nearly all the nations of northern and southern Europe. It has been suggested that the popular legend may be "a wild shoot from the story of Judith and Holofernes." Dowie, doleful.

TOM THUMBE. After Ritson, with omissions. Ritson prints from a manuscript dated 1630, the oldest copy known to be extant, but the story itself can be traced much further back and was evidently a prime favorite with the English rustics. The plain, often doggerel verse, and the rough, often coarse humor of this ballad make it appear at striking disadvantage among the Scottish folk-songs, essentially poetic as even the rudest of them are. Tom Thumbe, it must be confessed, is but a clumsy sort of elf, and the ballad as a whole can hardly be said to have a fairy atmosphere. Yet it is of value as adding to the data for a comparison between the English and the Scottish peasantry, as throwing light on the fun-loving spirit, the sports and practical joking of Merrie England, as showing the tenacity of the Arthurian tradition, together with the confusion of chivalric memories, as displaying the ignorant credulity of the popular mind toward science no less than toward history, and as illustrating, by giving us in all this bald, sing-song run of verses, here and there a sweet or dainty fancy and at least one stanza of exquisite tenderness and grace, the significant fact that in the genuine old English ballads beauty is not the rule, but the surprise. Counters, coin-shaped pieces of metal, ivory, or wood, used in reckoning. Points, here probably the bits of tin plate used to tag the strands of cotton yarn with which, in lieu of buttons, the common folk fastened their garments. The points worn by the nobles were laces or silken strands ornamented with aiglets of gold or silver.

KEMPION. After Allingham's version collated from copies given by Scott, Buchan, and Motherwell, with a touch or two from the kindred ballad The Laidley Worm of Spindleston Heugh. Buchan and Motherwell make the name of the hero Kemp Owyne. Similar ballads are known in Iceland and Denmark, and the main features of the story appear in both the classic and romantic literatures. Weird, destiny. Dree, suffer. Borrowed, ransomed. Arblast bow, cross-bow. Stythe, place. Louted, bowed.

ALISON GROSS. After Jamieson's version taken from the recitation of Mrs. Brown. Child claims that this tale is a variety of Beauty and the Beast. Lemman, lover. Gar, make. Toddle, twine. Seely Court, Happy Court or Fairy Court. See English Dictionary for changes of meaning in silly.

THE WIFE OF USHER'S WELL. After Scott, with a stanza or two from Chambers, both versions being recovered by recitation. Although this is scarcely more than a fragment, it is well-nigh unsurpassed for genuine ballad beauty, the mere touches of narrative suggesting far deeper things than they actually relate. Martinmas, the eleventh of November. Carline wife, old peasant-woman. Fashes, troubles. Birk, birch. Syke, marsh. Sheugh, trench. Channerin', fretting. Gin, if. Byre, cow-house.

A LYKE-WAKE DIRGE. After Scott. This dirge belongs to the north of England and is said to have been chanted, in Yorkshire, over the dead, down to about 1624. Lyke-Wake, dead-watch. Sleete, salt, it being the old peasant custom to place a quantity of this on the breast of the dead. Whinny-muir, Furze-moor. A manuscript found by Ritson in the Cotton Library states: "When any dieth, certaine women sing a song to the dead bodie, recyting the journey that the partye deceased must goe; and they are of beliefe (such is their fondnesse) that once in their lives, it is good to give a pair of new shoes to a poor man, for as much as, after this life, they are to pass barefoote through a great launde, full of thornes and furzen, except by the meryte of the almes aforesaid they have redemed the forfeyte; for, at the edge of the launde, an oulde man shall meet them with the same shoes that were given by the partie when he was lyving; and, after he hath shodde them, dismisseth them to go through thick and thin, without scratch or scalle." Brigg o' Dread, Bridge of Dread. Descriptions of this Bridge of Dread are found in various Scottish poems, the most minute being given in the legend of Sir Owain. Compare the belief of the Mahometan that in his approach to the judgment-seat, he must traverse a bar of red-hot iron, stretched across a bottomless abyss, true believers being upheld by their good works, while the wicked fall headlong into the gulf.

PROUD LADY MARGARET. After Aytoun. The original versions of this ballad, as given by Scott, Buchan, Dixon, and Laing, differ widely. It is known under various titles, The Courteous Knight, The Jolly Hind Squire, The Knicht o Archerdale, Fair Margret, and Jolly Janet. Similar ballads are rife in France, although in these it is more frequently the ghost of a dead lady who admonishes her living lover. Wale, choose. Ill-washen feet, etc., in allusion to the custom of washing and dressing the dead for burial. Feckless, worthless. Pirie's chair remains an unsolved riddle of the ballad, editors and commentators not being as good at guessing as the ghost.

THE TWA SISTERS O' BINNORIE. Mainly after Aytoun. There are many versions of this ballad in Scotland, England, Wales and Ireland, varying widely in titles, refrains, and indeed in everything save the main events of the story. A broadside copy appeared as early as 1656. Ballads on the same subject are very popular among the Scandinavian peoples, and traces of the story are found as far away as China and South Africa. Twined, parted. Make, mate. Gar'd, made. Although Lockhart would have the burden pronounced BinnoIrie, a more musical effect is secured by following Jamieson and pronouncing BinnoI"rie.

THE DEMON LOVER. After Scott. Buchan has a version under title of James Herries, the demon being here transformed into a lover who has died abroad and comes in spirit guise to punish his "Jeanie Douglas" for her broken vows. Motherwell gives a graphic fragment. Ilka, every, Drumly, dark. Won, dwell.

RIDDLES WISELY EXPOUNDED. Mainly after Motherwell. There are several broadsides, differing slightly, of this ballad. Riddling folk-songs similar to this in general features have been found among the Germans and Russians and in Gaelic literature. Speird, asked. Unco, uncanny. Gin, if. Pies, magpies. Clootie, see Burus's Address to the Deil.

"O thou! whatever title suit thee, Auld Hornie, Satan, Nick, or Clootie," etc.

SIR PATRICK SPENS. After Scott. There are many versions of

"The grand old ballad of Sir Patrick Spence,"

as Coleridge so justly terms it, the fragment in the Reliques being un-surpassed among them all for poetic beauty. Herd's longer copy, like several of the others, runs song-fashion:

"They had not saild upon the sea A league but merely nine, O, When wind and weit and snaw and sleit Cam' blawin' them behin', O."

Motherwell gives the ballad in four forms, in one of them the skipper being dubbed Sir Patrick, in another Earl Patrick, in another Young Patrick, and in yet another Sir Andrew Wood. Jamieson's version puts into Sir Patrick's mouth an exclamation that reflects little credit upon his sailor character:

"O wha is this, or wha is that, Has tald the king o' me? For I was never a gude seaman, Nor ever intend to be."

But with a few such trifling exceptions, the tone toward the skipper is universally one of earnest respect and sympathy, the keynote of every ballad being the frank, unconscious heroism of this "gude Sir Patrick Spens." In regard to the foundation for the story, Scott maintains that "the king's daughter of Noroway" was Margaret, known to history as the Maid of Norway, daughter of Eric, king of Norway, and of Margaret, daughter of Alexander III. of Scotland. This last-named monarch died in 1285, the Maid of Norway, his yellow-haired little granddaughter, being the heiress to his crown. The Maid of Norway died, however, before she was of age to assume control of her turbulent Scottish kingdom. Scott surmises, on the authority of the ballad, that Alexander, desiring to have the little princess reared in the country she was to rule, sent this expedition for her during his life-time. No record of such a voyage is extant, although possibly the presence of the king is a bold example of poetic license, and the reference is to an earlier and more disastrous embassy than that finally sent by the Regency of Scotland, after Alexander's death, to their young queen, Sir Michael Scott of wizard fame being at that time one of the ambassadors. Finlay, on the other hand, places this ballad in the days of James III., who married Margaret of Denmark. Here we have historic testimony of the voyage, but none of the shipwreck,—yet against any one of these theories the natural objection is brought that so lamentable a disaster, involving so many nobles of the realm, would hardly be suffered to escape the pen of the chronicler. Motherwell, Maidment, and Aytoun, relying on a corroborative passage in Fordun's Scotichronicon, hold with good appearance of reason that the ballad pictures what is known as an actual shipwreck, on the return from Norway of those Scottish lords who had escorted thither the bride of Eric, the elder Margaret, afterward mother of the little Maid of Norway. The ballad itself well bears out this theory, especially in the taunt flung at the Scottish gallants for lingering too long in nuptial festivities on the inhospitable Norwegian coast. The date of this marriage was 1281. Skeely, skilful. Gane, sufficed. Half-fou, half-bushel. Gurly, stormy.

THE BATTE OF OTTERBURNE. After Scott. There are several Scottish versions of this spirit-stirring ballad, and also an English version, first printed in the fourth edition of the Reliques. The English ballad, naturally enough, dwells more on the prowess of Percy and his countrymen in the combat than on their final discomfiture. A vivid account of the battle of Otterburne may be found in Froissart's Chronicles. In brief, it was a terrible slaughter brought about by the eager pride and ambition of those two hot-blooded young chieftains, James, Earl of Douglas, and the redoubtable Harry Percy. Yet the generosity of the leaders and the devoted loyalty of their men throw a moral splendor over the scene of bloodshed. In the year 1388 Douglas, at the head of three thousand Scottish spears, made a raid into Northumberland and, before the walls of Newcastle, engaged Percy in single combat, capturing his lance with the attached pennon. Douglas retired in triumph, brandishing his trophy, but Hotspur, burning with shame, hurriedly mustered the full force of the Marches and, following hard upon the Scottish rear, made a night attack upon the camp of Douglas at Otterbnrne, about twenty miles from the frontier. Then ensued a moonlight battle, gallant and desperate, fought on either side with unflinching bravery, and ending in the defeat of the English, Percy being taken prisoner. But the Scots bought their glory dear by the loss of their noble leader, who, when the English troops, superior in number, were gaining ground, dashed forward with impetuous courage, cheering on his men, and cleared a way with his swinging battle-axe into the heart of the enemy's ranks. Struck down by three mortal wounds, he died in the midst of the fray, urging with his failing breath these last requests upon the little guard of kinsmen who pressed about him: "First, that yee keep my death close both from our owne folke and from the enemy; then, that ye suffer not my standard to be lost or cast downe; and last, that ye avenge my death, and bury me at Melrosse with my father. If I could hope for these things," he added, "I should die with the greater contentment; for long since I heard a prophesie that a dead man should winne a field, and I hope in God it shall be I." Lammas-tide, the first of August. Muirmen, moorinen. Harried, plundered. The tane, the one. Fell, skin. (The inference is that Percy was rescued by his men.) Gin, if. Burn, brook. Kale, broth. Fend, sustain. Bent, open field. Petitions, tents (pavilions). Branking, prancing. Wargangs, wagons. Ayont, beyond. Hewmont, helmet. Smakkit, smote. Bracken, fern.

THE HUNTING OF THE CHEVIOT. After Hearne, who first printed it from a manuscript in the Ashmolean collection at Oxford. It was next printed in the Reliques, under title of Chevy-Chase,—a title now reserved for the later and inferior broadside version which was singularly popular throughout the seventeenth century and is still better known than this far more spirited original. "With regard to the subject of this ballad,"—to quote from Bishop Percy,—"although it has no countenance from history, there is room to think it had originally some foundation in fact. It was one of the laws of the Marches, frequently renewed between the nations, that neither party should hunt in the other's borders, without leave from the proprietors or their deputies. There had long been a rivalship between the two martial families of Percy and Douglas, which, heightened by the national quarrel, must have produced frequent challenges and struggles for superiority, petty invasions of their respective domains, and sharp contests for the point of honour; which would not always be recorded in history. Something of this kind, we may suppose, gave rise to the ancient ballad of the Hunting o' the Cheviat. Percy, Earl of Northumberland, had vowed to hunt for three days in the Scottish border, without condescending to ask leave from Earl Douglas, who was either lord of the soil, or lord warden of the Marches. Douglas would not fail to resent the insult, and endeavour to repel the intruders by force; this would naturally produce a sharp conflict between the two parties; something of which, it is probable, did really happen, though not attended with the tragical circumstances recorded in the ballad: for these are evidently borrowed from the Battle of Otterbourn, a very different event, but which aftertimes would easily confound with it." The date of the ballad cannot, of course, be strictly ascertained. It was considered old in the middle of the sixteenth century, being mentioned in The Complaynt of Scotland (1548) among the "sangis of natural music of the antiquite." Not much can be said for its "natural music," yet despite its roughness of form and enviable inconsistencies of spelling, it has always found grace with the poets. Rare Ben Jonson used to say that he would rather have been the author of Chevy Chase than of all his works; Addison honored the broadside version with two critiques in the Spectator; and Sir Philip Sidney, though lamenting that the ballad should be "so evil apparrelled in the dust and cobwebs of that uncivill age," breaks out with the ingenuous confession: "I never heard the olde song of Percy and Duglas that I found not my heart mooved more then with a trumpet, and yet is it sung but by some blinde crouder, with no rougher voice then rude stile." Mauger, despite. Let, hinder. Meany, company. Shyars, shires. Bomen, bowmen. Byckarte, moved quickly, rattling their weapons. Bent, open field. Aras, arrows. Wyld, wild creatures, as deer. Shear, swiftly. Grevis, groves. Glent, glanced, flashed by. Oware off none, hour of noon. Mart, death-signal (as used in hunting.) Quyrry, quarry, slaughtered game. Bryttlynge, cutting up. Wyste, knew. Byll and brande, axe and sword. Glede, live coal. The ton, the one. Yerle, earl. Cars, curse. Nam, name. Wat, wot, know. Sloughe, slew. Byddys, abides. Wouche, injury. Ost, host. Suar, sure. Many a doughete the garde to dy, many a doughty (knight) they caused to die. Basnites, small helmets. Myneyeple, maniple (of many folds), a coat worn under the armor. Freyke, warrior. Swapte, smote. Myllan, Milan. Hight, promise. Spendyd, grasped (spanned). Corsiare, courser. Blane, halted. Dynte, stroke. Halyde, hauled. Stour, press of battle. Dre, endure. Hinde, gentle. Hewyne in to, hewn in two. The mayde them byears, they made them biers. Makys, mates. Carpe off care, tell of sorrow. March perti, the Border district. Lyff-tenant, lieutenant. Weal, clasp. Brook, enjoy. Quyte, avenged. That tear begane this spurn, that wrong caused this retaliation. Reane, rain. Ballys bete, sorrows amend.

EDOM O' GORDON. After Aytoun. This ballad was first printed at Glasgow, 1755, as taken down by Sir David Dalrymple "from the recitation of a lady," and was afterwards inserted—"interpolated and corrupted," says the unappeasable Ritson—in Percy's Reliques. Ritson himself published a genuine and ancient copy from a manuscript belonging apparently to the last quarter of the sixteenth century and preserved in the Cotton Library. The ballad is known under two other titles, Captain Car and The Burning o' London Castle. Notwithstanding this inexactitude in names, the ballad has an historical basis. In 1571 Adam Gordon, deputy-lieutenant of the North of Scotland for Queen Mary, was engaged in a struggle against the clan Forbes, who upheld the Reformed Faith and the King's party. Gordon was successful in two sharp encounters, but "what glory and renown he obtained of these two victories," says the contemporary History of King James the Sixth, "was all cast down by the infamy of his next attempt; for immediately after this last conflict he directed his soldiers to the castle of Towie, desiring the house to be rendered to him in the Queen's name; which was obstinately refused by the lady, and she burst forth with certain injurious words. And the soldiers being impatient, by command of their leader, Captain Ker, fire was put to the house, wherein she and the number of twenty-seven persons were cruelly burnt to the death."

Martinmas, the eleventh of November. Hauld, stronghold. Toun, enclosed place. Buskit, made ready. Light, alighted. But and, and also. Dree, suffer. But an, unless. Wude, mad. Dule, pain. Reek, smoke. Nourice, nurse. Jimp, slender. Row, roll. Tow, throw. Busk and boun, up and away. Freits, ill omens. Lowe, blaze. Wichty, sturdy. Bent, field. Teenfu', sorrowful. Wroken, avenged.

KINMONT WILLIE. After Scott. This dashing ballad appeared for the first time in the Border Minstrelsy, having been "preserved by tradition," says Scott, "on the West Borders, but much mangled by reciters, so that some conjectural emendations have been absolutely necessary to render it intelligible." The facts in the case seem to be that in 1596 Salkeld, deputy of Lord Scroope, English Warden of the West Marches, and Robert Scott, for the Laird of Buccleuch, Keeper of Liddesdale, met on the border line for conference in the interest of the public weal. The truce, that on such occasions extended from the day of the meeting to the next day at sunset, was this time violated by a party of English soldiers, who seized upon William Armstrong of Kinmonth, a notorious freebooter, as he, attended by but three or four men, was returning from the conference; and lodged him in Carlisle Castle. The Laird of Buccleuch, after treating in vain for his release, raised two hundred horse, surprised the castle and carried off the prisoner without further ceremony. This exploit the haughty Queen of England "esteemed a great affront" and "stormed not a little" against the "bauld Buccleuch." Haribee, the place of execution at Carlisle. Liddel-rack, a ford on the Liddel. Reiver, robber. Hostelrie, inn. Lawing, reckoning. Garr'd, made. Basnet, helmet. Curch, cap. Lightly, set light by. Low, blaze. Splent on spauld, armor on shoulder. Woodhouselee, a house belonging to Buccleuch, on the Border. Herry, harry, spoil. Corbie, crow. Wons, dwells. Lear, lore. Row-footed, rough-footed(?). Spait, flood. Garr'd, made. Stear, stir. Coulters, ploughshares. Forehammers, the large hammers that strike before the small, sledgehammers. Fley'd, frightened. Spier, inquire. Hente, caught. Maill, rent. Airns, irons. Wood, mad. Furs, furrows. Trew, trust.

KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT OF CANTERBURY. After Percy, who printed from an ancient black-letter copy. There are three other broadside versions of this popular ballad extant, and at least one older version has been lost. Similar riddle-stories are to be found in almost all European literatures. There is nothing in this ballad save the name of King John, with his reputation for unjust and high-handed dealing, that can be called traditional. Deere, harm. Stead, place. St. Bittel, St. Botolph(?).

ROBIN HOOD RESCUING THE WIDOW'S THREE SONS. After Ritson, who has collected in two volumes the ballads of Robin Hood. This is believed to be one of the oldest of them all. A concise introduction to the Robin Hood ballads is given by Mr. Hales in the Percy Folio MS. vol. i. This legendary king of Sherwood Forest is more rightfully the hero of English song than his splendid rival, the Keltic King Arthur,

"whose name, a ghost, Streams like a cloud, man-shaped, from mountain peak, And cleaves to cairn and cromlech still."

Yet there is scarcely less doubt as to the actual existence of a flesh-and-blood Robin Hood than there is as to the actual existence of a flesh-and-blood King Arthur. But let History look to her own; Literature need have no scruple in claiming both the archer-prince of outlaws and the blameless king of the Table Bound. Kobber chieftain or democratic agitator, romantic invention or Odin-myth, it is certain that by the fourteenth century Robin Hood was a familiar figure in English balladry. We have our first reference to this generous-hearted rogue of the greenwood, who is supposed by Ritson to have lived from 1160 to 1247, in Langlande's _Piers Ploughman_ (1362). There are brief notices of the popular bandit in Wyntoun's _Scottish Chronicle_ (1420), Fordun's _Scotichronicon_ (1450), and Mair's _Historia Majoris Brittaniae_ (1521). Famous literary allusions occur in Latimer's _Sixth Sermon before Edward VI_. (1548), in Drayton's _Polyolbion (1613), and Fuller's _Worthies of England_ (1662). The Robin Hood ballads illustrate to the full the rough and heavy qualities, both of form and thought, that characterize all our English folk-songs as opposed to the Scottish. We feel the difference instantly when a minstrel from over the Border catches up the strain:

"There's mony ane sings o'grass, o'grass, And mony ane sings o'corn; And mony ane sings o'Robin Hood, Kens little whar' he was born.

"It was na' in the ha', the ha', Nor in the painted bower; But it was in the gude greenwood, Amang the lily flower."

Yet these rude English ballads have just claims on our regard. They stand our feet squarely upon the basal rock of Saxon ethics, they breathe a spirit of the sturdiest independence, and they draw, in a few strong strokes, so fresh a picture of the joyous, fearless life led under the green shadows of the deer-haunted forest by that memorable band, bold Robin and Little John, Friar Tuck and George a Green, Will Scarlett, Midge the Miller's Son, Maid Marian and the rest, that we gladly succumb to a charm recognized by Shakespeare himself: "They say he is already in the forest of Arden, and a many merry men with him; and there they live like the old Robin Hood of England; they say many young gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time carelessly, as they did in the golden world."—As You Like It.

ROBIN HOOD AND ALLIN A DALE. After Ritson. This ballad is first found in broadside copies of the latter half of the seventeenth century. Lin., pause.

ROBIN HOOD'S DEATH AND BURIAL. After Ritson, who made his version from a collation of two copies given in a York garland.

ANNIE OF LOCHROYAN. After Aytoun, who improves on Jamieson's version. This beautiful ballad is given in varying forms by Herd, Scott, Buchan, and others. Lochroyan, or Loch Ryan, is a bay on the south-west coast of Scotland. Jimp, slender. Gin, if. Greet, cry. Tirl'd, rattled. But and, and also. Warlock, wizard. Sinsyne, since then. Hooly, slowly. Deid, death. Syne, then.

LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ANNET. After Aytoun, who adds to the first twenty-four stanzas of the copy given in the Reliques a concluding fourteen taken from Jamieson's Sweet Willie and Fair Annie. The unfortunate lady elsewhere figures as The Nut-Brown Bride and Fair Ellinor. There are Norse ballads which relate something akin to the same story. Gif, if. Rede, counsel. Owsen, oxen. Billie, an affectionate term for brother. Byre, cow-house. Fadge, clumsy woman. Sheen, shoes. Tift, whiff. Gin, if. Cleiding, clothing. Bruik, enjoy. Kist, chest. Lee, lonesome. Till, to. Dowie, doleful. Sark, shroud. But and, and also. Birk, birch.

THE BANKS OF YARROW. After Allingham's collated version. There are many renderings of this ballad, which Scott declares to be a great favorite among the peasantry of the Ettrick forest, who firmly believe it founded on fact. The river Yarrow, so favored of the poets, flows through a valley in Selkirkshire and joins the Tweed above the town of Selkirk. The Tennies is a farm below the Yarrow kirk. Lawing, reckoning. Dawing,, dawn. Marrow, mate. Dowie, doleful. Leafu', lawful. Binna, be not.

THE DOUGLAS TRAGEDY. After Scott. This ballad is likewise known under titles of Earl Brand, Lady Margaret and The Child of Ell. Danish, Swedish, Norwegian and Icelandic ballads relate a kindred story, and the incident of the intertwining plants that spring from the graves of hapless lovers, occurs in the folk-lore of almost all peoples. Bugelet, a small bugle. Dighted, strove to stanch. Plat, intertwined.

PINE FLOWERS I' THE VALLEY. After Aytoun, his version, though taken down from recitation, being in reality a compound of Herd's and Jamieson's. Aytoun claims that "this is perhaps the most popular of all the Scottish ballads, being commonly recited and sung even at the present day." Different refrains are often employed, and the ballad is frequently given under title of The Cruel Brother. Stories similar to this are found in the balladry of both northern and southern Europe. Marrow, mate. Close, avenue leading from the door to the street. Loutiny, bowing. Its lane, alone.

THE GAY GOSS-HAWK. Mainly after Motherwell, although his version is entitled The Jolly Goshawk. The epithet Gay has the sanction of Scott and Jamieson. Buchan gives a rendering of this ballad under title of The Scottish Squire. Whin, furze. Bigly, spacious. Sark, shroud. Claith, cloth. Steeking, stitching. Gar'd, made. Chive, morsel. Skaith, harm.

YOUNG REDIN. After Allingham's collated copy. There are many versions of this ballad, the hero being variously known as Young Hunting, Earl Richard, Lord William, Lord John and Young Redin. Birl'd, plied. Douk, dive. Weil-head, eddy. Linn, the pool beneath a cataract. Brin, burn. Balefire, bonfire.

WILLIE AND MAY MARGARET. After Allingham's copy framed by collating Jamieson's fragmentary version with Buchan's ballad of The Drowned Lovers. Stour, wild. Pot, a pool in a river. Dowie den, doleful hollow. Tirled, rattled. Sleeked, fastened. Brae, hillside. Sowm, swim. Minnie, affectionate term for mother.

YOUNG BEICHAN. Mainly after Jamieson, his version being based upon a copy taken down from the recitation of the indefatigable Mrs. Brown and collated with a manuscript and stall copy, both from Scotland, a recited copy from the North of England, and a short version "picked off an old wall in Piccadilly." Of this ballad of Young Beichan there are numerous renderings, the name of the hero undergoing many variations,—Bicham, Brechin, Beachen, Bekie, Bateman, Bondwell—and the heroine, although Susie Pye or Susan Pye in ten of the fourteen versions, figuring also as Isbel, Essels, and Sophia. It was probably an English ballad at the start, but bears the traces of the Scottish minstrels who were doubtless prompt to borrow it. There is likelihood enough that the ballad was originally suggested by the legend of Gilbert Becket, father of the great archbishop; the story running that Becket, while a captive in Holy Land, plighted his troth to the daughter of a Saracenic prince. When the crusader had made good his escape, the lady followed him, inquiring her way to "England" and to "London," where she wandered up and down the streets, constantly repeating her lover's name, "Gilbert," the third and last word of English that she knew, until finally she found him, and all her woes were put to flight by the peal of wedding bells. Termagant, the name given in the old romances to the God of the Saracens. Pine, pain. Sheave, slice. But and, and also. Dreed, endured.

GILDEROY. After the current version adapted from the original by Sir Alexander Halket or his sister, Lady Elizabeth Wardlaw, the composer of Hardyknute. There is extant a black-letter broadside printed in England as early as 1650, and the ballad appears in several miscellanies of later date. The reviser added the sixth, seventh, and eighth stanzas. It is mortifying to learn that this "winsome Gilderoy "—the name, properly Gillie roy, signifying in Gaelic "the red-haired lad"—was in reality one Patrick Mac-Gregor, who was hanged at the cross of Edinburgh, 1638, as a common cateran or free-booter. That the romantic element in the ballad so outweighs the historical, must account for its classification here. Soy, silk. Cess, black-mail. Gear, property.

BONNY BARBARA ALLAN. After the version given in Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany and followed by Herd, Ritson, and others. Percy prints with this in the Reliques a longer, but poorer copy. In Pepys's Diary, Jan. 2,1666, occurs an allusion to the "little Scotch song of Barbary Alien." Gin, if. Hooly, slowly. Jow, knell.

THE GARDENER. After Kinloch. Buchan gives a longer, but less valuable version. Jimp, slender. Weed, dress. Camorine, camomile. Kail-blade, cabbage-leaf. Cute, ankle. Brawn, calf. Blaewort, witch bells.

ETIN THE FORESTER. Collated. No single version of this ballad is satisfactory, not Kinloch's fine fragment, Hynde Etin, nor Buchan's complete but inferior version, Young Akin, nor the modernized copy, Young Hastings, communicated by Buchan to Motherwell. Earlier and better renderings of the ballad have doubtless been lost. In the old Scottish speech, an Etin signified an ogre or giant, and although the existing versions show but faint traces of a supernatural element, it is probable that the original character of the story has been changed by the accidents of tradition, and that the Etin was at the outset in line with such personages as Arnold's Forsaken Merman. In the beautiful kindred ballads which abound in the Norse and German literatures, the Etin is sometimes represented by a merman, though usually by an elf-king, dwarf-king, or hill-king. Hind chiel, young stripling. Spier, ask. Bigg, build. Their lane, alone. Brae, hillside. Gars, makes. Greet, weep. Stown, stolen. Laverock, lark. Lift, air. Buntin', blackbird. Christendame, christening. Ben, in. Shaw, forest. Louted, bowed. Boun', go.

LAMKIN. After Jamieson. The many versions of this ballad show an unusually small number of variations. The name, though occurring in the several forms of Lambert Linkin, Lamerlinkin, Rankin, Belinkin, Lankyn, Lonkin, Balcanqual, most often appears as Lamkin or Lammikin or Lambkin, being perhaps a nick-name given to the mason for the meekness with which he had borne his injuries. This would explain the resentful tone of his inquiries on entering the house. Nourice, nurse. Limmer, wretch. Shot-window, projecting window. Gaire, edge of frock. Ilka, each. Bore, crevice. Greeting, crying. Dowie, doleful. Chamer, chamber. Lamer, amber. Ava', of all.

HUGH OF LINCOLN. Mainly after Jamieson. Percy gives a version of this famous ballad under title of The Jew's Daughter, and Herd and Motherwell, as well as Jamieson, have secured copies from recitation. The general view that this ballad rests upon an historical basis has but slender authority behind it. Matthew Paris, never too reliable as a chronicler, says that in 1255 the Jews of Lincoln, after their yearly custom, stole a little Christian boy, tortured and crucified him, and flung him into a pit, where his mother found the body. This is in all probability one of the many cruel slanders circulated against the Jews during the Middle Ages, to reconcile the Christian conscience to the Christian maltreatment of that long-suffering race. Such stories are related of various mediaeval innocents, in various lands and centuries, and may be classed together, until better evidence to the contrary presents itself, as malicious falsehood. This ballad should be compared, of course, with Chaucer's Prioresses Tale. Keppit, caught. Gart, made. Twinn'd, deprived. Row'd, rolled. Ilka, each. Gin, it.

FAIR ANNIE. Mainly after Jamieson's version entitled Lady Jane. Jamieson gives another copy, where the heroic lady is known as Burd Helen, but Scott, Motherwell, Kinloch, Buchan, and others agree on the name Fair Annie. The pathetic beauty of the ballad has secured it a wide popularity. There are Danish, Swedish, Dutch, and German versions. "But Fair Annie's fortunes have not only been charmingly sung," says Professor Child. "They have also been exquisitely told in a favorite lay of Marie de France, 'Le Lai del Freisne.' This tale of Breton origin is three hundred years older than any manuscript of the ballad. Comparison will, however, quickly show that it is not the source either of the English or of the Low German and Scandinavian ballad. The tale and the ballads have a common source, which lies further back, and too far for us to find." Your lane, alone. Braw, finely dressed. Gear, goods. But and, and also. Stown, stolen. Leugh, laughed. Loot, let. Gars, makes. Greet, weep.

THE LAIRD O' DRUM. After Aytoun's collated version. Copies obtained from recitation are given by Kinloch and Buchan. The eccentric Laird o' Drum was an actual personage, who, in the seventeenth century, mortified his aristocratic relatives and delighted the commons by marrying a certain Margaret Coutts, a woman of lowly rank, his first wife having been a daughter of the Marquis of Huntly. The old shepherd speaks in the Aberdeen dialect. Weel-faur'd, well-favored. Gin, if. Speer, ask. Kebbuck, cheese. Yetts, gates. Gawsy, portly. But the pearlin' abune her bree, without the lace above her brow.

LIZIE LINDSAY. After Jamieson. Complete copies are given by Buchan and Whitelaw, also. Till, to. Braes, hills. Fit, foot. Gin, if. Tocher, dowry. Gait, way. Wale, choice. Dey, dairy-woman. Laverock, lark. Liltin', carolling. Shealin', sheep-shed. Gaits and kye, goats and cows.

KATHARINE JANFARIE. Mainly after Motherwell's version entitled Catherine Johnstone. Other renderings are given by Scott, Maidment, and Buchan. In Scott's version the name of the English suitor is Lord Lochinvar, and both name and story the thieving poet has turned, as everybody knows, to excellent account. The two closing stanzas here seem to betray the hand of an English balladist. Weel-faur'd, well-favored. Lave, rest. Spier'd, asked. Brae, hill.

GLENLOGIE. After Smith's version in the Scottish Minstrel,—a book wherein "great liberties," Motherwell claims, have been taken with ancient lays. A rough but spirited version is given by Sharpe, and a third by Buchan. Gar, make. His lane, alone.

GET UP AND BAR THE DOOR. After Herd. This ballad appears, too, in Johnson's Museum and Ritson's Scottish Songs. Martinmas, the eleventh of November. Intil, into. Hussyskep, house-keeping. Bree, broth. Scaud, scald.

THE LAWLANDS O' HOLLAND. After Herd. Another version, longer and poorer, occurs in Johnson's Museum. Withershins, the wrong way. Twinned, parted.

THE TWA CORBIES. After Scott, who received it from Mr. C. K. Sharpe, "as written down, from tradition, by a lady." This seems to be the Scottish equivalent of an old English poem, The Three Ravens, given by Ritson in his Ancient Songs. Corbies, ravens. Fail, turf. Kens, knows. Hause, neck. Pyke, pick. Theek, thatch.

HELEN OF KIRCONNEL. After Scott. Other versions are given by Herd, Ritson, and Jamieson. There is said to be a traditional basis for the ballad, and the grave of the lovers, Adam Fleming and Helen Irving (or Helen Bell), is still pointed out in the churchyard of Kirconnell, near Springkell. Burd, lady.

WALY WALY. After Ramsay, being first published in the Tea-Table Miscellany. These touching and tender stanzas have been pieced by Chambers into the patchwork ballad, Lord Jamie Douglas, but evidently it is not there that they belong. Waly, a cry of lamentation. Brae, hillside. Burn, brook. Syne, then. Lichtly, slight. Busk, adorn. Marti'mas, November. Fell, bitterly. Cramasie, crimson.

LORD RONALD. After Scott's version entitled Lord Randal. Scott adopts this name because he thinks the ballad may originally have had reference to the death of Thomas Randolph, or Randal, Earl of Murray,—a theory which Allingham, with more justice than mercy, briefly disposes of as "mere antiquarian moonshine." In point of fact the ballad recounts an old, old story, told in many literatures, Italian, German, Dutch, Swedish, Danish, Magyar, Wendish, Bohemian, Catalan. The English offshoot takes on a bewildering variety of forms. (See Introduction, pp. xiii, xiv.) Broo', broth.

EDWARD, EDWARD. After Percy, the ballad having made its first appearance in the Reliques. Motherwell gives an interesting version, in which the murderer, who in this case has slain his brother, is addressed as Son Davie. There are German, Swedish, Danish and Finish equivalents. The old orthography, which is retained here for its literary interest, cannot obscure the tragic power of the ballad. Frie, free. Dule ye drie, grief ye suffer. Tul, till.