12 '0 sister, sister, tak my middle,

An yes get my goud and my gonden girdle.

13 'O sister, sister, save my life,

An I swear Ise never be nae man's wife.'

14 'Foul fa the han that I should tacke, It twin'd me an my wardles make.

15 'Your cherry cheeks an yallow hair Gars me gae maiden for evermair.'

16 Sometimes she sank, an sometimes she

swam,
Till she came down yon bonny mill-
dam.

17 O out it came the miller's son,
An saw the fair maid swimmin in.

18 'O father, father, draw your dam,
Here 's either a mermaid or a swan.'

19 The miller quickly drew the dam,
An there he found a drownd woman.

20 You coudna see her yallow hair

For gold and pearle that were so rare.

21 You coudna see her middle sma

For gouden girdle that was sae braw.

22 You coudna see her fingers white, For gouden rings that was sae gryte.

23 An by there came a harper fine, That harped to the king at dine.

24 When he did look that lady upon, He sighd and made a heavy moan.

25 He 's taen three locks o her yallow hair, An wi them strong his harp sae fair.

26 The first tune he did play and sing, Was, ' Farewell to my father the king.'

27 The nextin tune that he playd syne, Was, 'Farewell to my mother the

queen.'

28 The lasten tnne that he playd then, Was, 'Wae to my sister, falr Ellen.'

11
THE CRUEL BROTHER

This was formerly one of the most popular of Scottish ballads. There are many versions, most of which agree in all essentials. The point of the story is the mortal offense given by the neglect to ask the brother's consent to the marriage. The same idea occurs in a number of Scandinavian ballads. In a very common German ballad,' Graf Friedrich' (Uhland, No. 122), the bride receives a fatal wound during the bringing home, but accidentally, and from the bridegroom's hand. The peculiar testament made by the bride in 'The Cruel Brother,' by which she bequeaths good things to her friends, bnt ill things to the author of her death, is highly characteristic of ballad poetry. See ' Lord Randal' (No. 12) and ' Edward ' (No. 13).

'[The] Cruel Brother, or the Bride's Testament.' a. Alex. Fraser Tytler's Brown MS. b. Jamieson's Popular Ballads, 1. (Mi, purporting to be from the recitation of Mrs Arrot of Aberbrothick (probably by mistake for Mrs Brown).

1 There was three ladies playd at the ba,

With a hey ho and a 1 illie gay
There came a knight and played oer
them a'.
As the primrose spreads so sweetly

2 The eldest was baith tall and fair,
But the youngest was beyond compare.

3 The midmost had a graceful mien, But the youngest lookd like beautie's

queen.

4 The knight bowd low to a' the three, But to the youngest he bent his knee.

5 The ladie turned her head aside,

The knight he woo'd her to be his bride.

6 The ladie blushd a rosy red,

And sayd, 'Sir knight, I 'm too young to wed.'

7 • O ladie fair, give me yonr hand, And I 'lI make you ladie of a' my land.'

8 'Sir knight, ere ye my favor win, You maun get consent frae a' my kin,'

9 He 's got consent frae her parents dear, And likewise frue her sisters fair.

10 He 's got consent frae her kin each

one, But forgot to spiek to her brother John.

11 Now, when the wedding day was come, The knight would take his bonny bride

home.

12 And many a lord and many a knight Came to behold that ladie bright.

13 And there was nae man that did her

see,
But wishd himself bridegroom to be.

14 Her father dear led her down the stair, And her sisters twain they kissd her

there.

15 Her mother dear led her thro the closs, And her brother John set her on her

horse.

16 She leand her oer the saddle-bow, To give him a kiss ere she did go.

17 He has taen a knife, baith lang and

sharp, And stabbd that bonny bride to the heart.

18 She hadno ridden half thro the town, Until her heart's blude staind her gown.

19 'Ride softly on,' says the best young

man, 'For I think our bonny bride looks pale and wan.'

20 'O lead me gently up yon hill,

And I 'll there sit down, and make my will.'

21 'O what will you leave to your father

dear?" 'The silver-shode steed that brought me here.'

22 'What will you leave to your mother

dear?'
'My velvet pall and my silken gear.'

23 'What will you leave to your sister

Anne?' 'My silken scarf and my gowden fan.'

24 'What will you leave to your sister

Grace?' 'My bloody cloaths to wash and dress.'

25 'What will you leave to your brother

Jolm?'
'The gallows-tree to hang him on.'

26 'What will you leave to your brother

John's wife?'
'The wilderness to end her life.'

27 This ladie fair in her grave was laid,
And many a mass was oer her said.

28 But it would have made your heart

right sair, To see the bridegroom rive his haire.

Kinloeh's MSS., 1, 21, from Mary Barr,May, 1827, Clydesdale.

1 A Gentleman cam oure the sea,

Fine flowers in the valley
And he has courted ladies three.
With the light green and the yellow

2 One o them was clad in red:

He asked if she wad be his bride.

3 One o them was clad in green:
He asked if she wad be his queen.

4 The last o them was clad in white:

He asked if she wad be his heart's delight.

5 'Ye may ga ask my father, the king: Sae maun ye ask my mither, the queen.

6 'Sae maun ye ask my sister Anne: And dinna forget my brither John.'

7 He has asked her father, the king: And sae did he her mither, the queen.

8 And he has asked her sister Anne: But he has forgot her brother John.

9 Her father led her through the ha, Her mither danced afore them a'.

10 Her sister Anne led her through thecloss, Her brither John set her on her horse.

11 It 's then he drew a little penknife, And he reft the fair maid o her life.

12 'Ride up, ride up,' said the foremost

man;
'I think our bride comes hooly on.'

13 'Hide up, ride up,' said the second man; 'I think our bride looks pale and wan.'

14 Up than cam the gay bridegroom, And straucht unto the bride he cam.

15 'Does your side-saddle sit awry? Or does your steed , . .

16 'Or does the rain run in yonr glove? Or wad ye chuse anither love?'

17 'The rain runs not in my glove, Nor will I e'er chuse anither love.

18 'Rut O an I war at Saint Evron's well, There I wad licht, and drink my fill l

19 'Oh an I war at Saint Evron's closs, There I wad licht, and bait my horse!'

20 Whan she cam to Saint Evron's well, She dought na licht to drink her fill.

21 Whan she cam to Saint Evron's closs, The bonny bride fell aff her horse.

22 'What will ye leave to your father, the

king?' 'The milk-white steed that I ride on.'

23 'What will ye leave to your mother, the

queen?'
'The bluidy robes that I have on.'

24 'What will ye leave to your sister

Anne?'
'My gude lord, to be wedded on.'

-25 'What will ye leave to your brither
John?'
'The gullows pin to hang him on.'

26 'What will ye leave to your brither's

wife?' 'Grief and sorrow a' the days o her life.'

27 'What will ye leave to your brither's

bairns?' 'The meal-pock to hang oure the arms.'

28 Now does she neither sigh nor groan: She lies aneath you marble stone.

12
LORD RANDAL

This ballad may be traced back abont a, century in £nglish. In Italy it has been popular for more than 2o0 years. According to the Italian tradition, a young man and his truelove are the object and the agent of the crime. This is also the case in several of the English versions and in some of the German. It is not unlikely, as Scott suggests, that the young man was changed to a child poisoned by a stepmother when the ballad was sung to children.

From a small manuscript volume, lent to Professor Child by Mr. William Macmath, of Edinburgh, containing four pieces written in or about 1710, and this ballad in a later hand (probably of the beginning of the 19th centnry). Charles Slackie, August, 1808, is scratched upon the binding.

1 • O Where ha you been, Lord Randal,

my son? And where ha you been, my handsome

young man?' 'I ha been at the greenwood ; mother,

mak my bed soon, For I 'm wearied wi hunting, and fain

wad lie down.'

2 'An wha met ye there, Lord Randal,

my son? An wha met you there, my handsome

young man?' 'O I met wi my true-love ; mother,

mak my bed soon, For I 'm wearied wi huntin, an fain wad

lie down.'

3 'And what did she give you, Lord Ran

dal, my son?

And what did she give you, my handsome young man?'

'Eels fried in a pan ; mother, mak my bed soon,

For I 'm wearied wi huntin, aud fain wad lie down.'

4 'And wha gat your leavins, Lord Ran

dal, my son? And wha gat your leavins, my hand

som young man?' • My hawks and my hounds; mother,

mak my bed soon, For I 'm wearied wi hunting, and fain

wad lie down.'

5 'And what becam of them, Lord Ran

dal, my son? And what becam of them, my handsome

young man?' 'They stretched their legs out an died;

mother, mak my bed soou, For I 'm wearied wi huntin, and fain wad

lie down.'

6 ' O I fear you are poisoned, Lord Ran

dal, my son! I fear you are poisoned, my handsome

young man I' 'O yes, I am poisoned; mother, mak

my bed soon, For I 'm sick at the heart, and I fain

wad lie down.'

7 'What d' ye leave to your mother, Lord

Randal, my son?
What d' ye leave to your mother, my

handsome young man?'
'Four and twenty milk kye ; mother,

mak my bed soon, For I 'in sick at the heart, and I fain

wad lie down.'

8 'What d' ye leave to your sister, Lord

Randal, my son? What d'ye leave to your sister, my

handsome young man?' 'My gold and my silver; mother, mak

my bed soon, For I 'm sick at the heart, an I fain wad

lie down.'

9 'What d' ye leave to your brother, Lord

Randal, my sou?

What d' ye leave to your brother, my

handsome young man?' 'My houses and my lands ; mother, mak

my bed soon, For I 'm sick at the heart, and I fain

wad lie down.'

10 'What d' ye leave to your true-love,

Lord Randal, my son?
What d' ye leave to your true-love, my

handsome young man?'
'I leave her hell and fire; mother, mak

my bed soon, For I 'm sick at the heart, and I fain

wad lie down.'

'Lord Donald,' Kinloch MSS., vn, 89. Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 110. From Mrs. Comie, Aberdeen.

1 'O Whare hae ye been a' day, Lord

Donald, my son?
O whare hae ye been a' day, my jollie

young man?'
'I 've been awa courtin; mither, mak my

bed sune, For I 'm sick at the heart, and I fain

wad lie doun.'

2 'What wad ye hae for your supper,

Lord Donald, my son?
What wad ye hae for your supper, my

jollie young man?'
'I 've gotten my supper; mither, mak

my bed sune, For I 'm sick at the heart, and I fain

wad lie doun.'

3 'What did ye get to your supper, Lord

Donald, my son?
What did ye get to your supper, my

jollie young man?'
'A dish of sma fishes; mither, mak my

bed sune, For I 'm sick at the heart, and I fain

wad lie doun.'

4 'Whare gat ye the fishes, Lord Donald,

my son? Whare gat ye the fishes, my jollie

young man?' 'In my father's black ditches; mither,

mak my bed sune,

For I 'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun.'

5 'What like were your fishes, Lord

Donald, my son?
What like were your fishes, my jollie

young man?'
'Black backs and spreckld bellies;

roither, mak my bed sune, For I 'm sick at the heart, and I fain

wad lie doun.'

6 'O I fear ye are poisond, Lord Donald,

my son I O I fear ye are poisond, my jollie young

man!' 'O yes l I am poisond; mither mak

my bed sune, For I 'in sick at the heart, and I fain

wad lie doun.'

7 'What will ye leave to your father,

Lord Donald my son?
What will ye leave to your father, my

jollie young man?'
'Baith my houses and land; mither,

mak my bed sune, For I 'm sick at the heart, and I fain

wad lie doun.'

8 'What will ye leave to your brither,

Lord Donald, my son?
What will ye leave to your brither, my

jollie young man?'
• My horse and the saddle; mither, mak

my bed sune, For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain

wad lie doun.'

9 'What will ye leave to your sister,

Lord Donald, my son?
What will ye leave to your sister, my

jollie young man?'
'Baith my gold box and rings; mither,

mak my bed sune, For I 'in sick at the heart, and I fain

wad lie doun.'

10 'What will ye leave to your true-love,

Lord Donald, my son?
What will ye leave to your true-love,

my jollie young man?'
'The tow and the halter, for to hang on

you tree, And lat her hang there for the poyson

ing o me.'

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