Ballad Book by Katherine Lee Bates (ed.)

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We crept on knees, and held our breath,
Till we placed the ladders agin the wa';
And sae ready was Buccleuch himsell
To mount the first before us a'.

He has ta'en the watchman by the throat,
He flung him down upon the lead:
"Had there not been peace between our lands,
Upon the other side thou hadst gaed!

"Now sound out, trumpets!" quo' Buccleuch;
"Let's waken Lord Scroope right merrilie!"
Then loud the warden's trumpet blew--
O wha, dare meddle wi' me?

Then speedilie to wark we gaed,
And raised the slogan ane and a',
And cut a hole through a sheet of lead,
And so we wan to the castle ha'.

They thought King James and a' his men
Had won the house wi' bow and spear;
It was but twenty Scots and ten,
That put a thousand in sic a stear!

Wi' coulters, and wi' forehammers,
We garr'd the bars bang merrilie,
Until we cam' to the inner prison,
Where Willie o' Kinmont he did lie.

And when we cam' to the lower prison,
Where Willie o' Kinmont he did lie,--
"O sleep ye, wake ye, Kinmont Willie,
Upon the morn that thou's to die?"

"O I sleep saft, and I wake aft;
It's lang since sleeping was fley'd frae me;
Gie my service back to my wife and bairns,
And a' gude fellows that spier for me."

Then Red Rowan has hente him up,
The starkest man in Teviotdale,--
"Abide, abide now, Red Rowan,
Till of my Lord Scroope I tak' farewell.

"Farewell, farewell, my gude Lord Scroope!
My gude Lord Scroope, farewell!" he cried:
"I'll pay you for my lodging maill,
When first we meet on the Border side."

Then shoulder high, with shout and cry,
We bore him doun the ladder lang;
At every stride Red Rowan made,
I wot the Kinmont's aims played clang

"O mony a time," quo' Kinmont Willie,
"I have ridden horse baith wild and wood;
But a rougher beast than Red Rowan
I ween my legs have ne'er bestrode.

"And mony a time," quo' Kinmont Willie,
I've pricked a horse out oure the furs;
But since the day I backed a steed,
I never wore sic cumbrous spurs."

We scarce had won the Staneshaw-bank,
When a' the Carlisle bells were rung,
And a thousand men on horse and foot
Cam' wi' the keen Lord Scroope along.

Buccleuch has turned to Eden Water,
Even where it flowed frae bank to brim,
And he has plunged in wi' a' his band,
And safely swam them through the stream.

He turned him on the other side,
And at Lord Scroope his glove flung he:
"If ye like na my visit in merry England,
In fair Scotland come visit me!"

All sore astonished stood Lord Scroope,
He stood as still as rock of stane;
He scarcely dared to trew his eyes,
When through the water they had gane.

"He is either himsell a devil frae hell,
Or else his mither a witch maun be;
I wadna hae ridden that wan water
For a' the gowd in Christentie."

* * * * *

KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT OF CANTEBBURY.

An ancient story Ile tell you anon
Of a notable prince, that was called King John;
He ruled over England with maine and with might,
For he did great wrong, and mainteined little right.

And Ile tell you a story, a story so merrye,
Concerning the Abbot of Canterburye;
How for his housekeeping and high renowne,
They rode poste for him to fair London towne.

A hundred men, for the king did hear say,
The abbot kept in his house every day;
And fifty golde chaynes, without any doubt,
In velvet coates waited the abbot about.

"How now, father abbot? I heare it of thee,
Thou keepest a farre better house than mee;
And for thy housekeeping and high renowne,
I feare thou work'st treason against my crown."

"My liege," quo' the abbot, "I would it were knowne,
I never spend nothing but what is my owne;
And I trust your grace will doe me no deere,
For spending of my owne true-gotten geere."

"Yes, yes, father abbot, thy faulte it is highe,
And now for the same thou needest must dye;
And except thou canst answer me questions three,
Thy head shall be smitten from thy bodie.

"And first," quo' the king, "when I'm in this stead,
With my crown of golde so faire on my head,
Among all my liegemen so noble of birthe,
Thou must tell to one penny what I am worthe.

"Secondlye, tell me, without any doubt,
How soon I may ride the whole world about;
And at the third question thou must not shrink,
But tell me here truly, what I do think?"

"O, these are deep questions for my shallow witt,
Nor I cannot answer your grace as yet:
But if you will give me but three weekes space,
I'll do my endeavor to answer your grace."

"Now three weekes space to thee will I give,
And that is the longest thou hast to live;
For unless thou answer my questions three,
Thy life and thy lands are forfeit to mee."

Away rode the abbot all sad at this word;
And he rode to Cambridge and Oxenford;
But never a doctor there was so wise,
That could with his learning an answer devise.

Then home rode the Abbot of comfort so cold,
And he mett his shepheard a going to fold:
"How now, my lord abbot, you are welcome home;
What newes do you bring us from good king John?"

"Sad newes, sad newes, shepheard, I must give;
That I have but three days more to live;
For if I do not answer him questions three,
My head will be smitten from my bodie.

"The first is to tell him, there in that stead,
With his crowne of golde so fair on his head,
Among all his liege men so noble of birth,
To within one penny of what he is worth.

"The seconde, to tell him, without any doubt,
How soone he may ride this whole world about;
And at the third question I must not shrinke,
But tell him there trulye what he does thinke."

"Now cheare up, sire abbot, did you never hear yet,
That a fool he may learne a wise man witt?
Lend me horse, and serving men, and your apparel,
And Ile ride to London to answers your quarrel.

"Nay frowne not, if it hath bin told unto mee,
I am like your lordship, as ever may bee;
And if you will but lend me your gowne,
There is none shall knowe us at fair London towne."

"Now horses and serving men thou shalt have,
With sumptuous array most gallant and brave;
With crosier, and miter, and rochet, and cope,
Fit to appear 'fore our fader the pope."

"Now welcome, sire abbot," the king he did say,
"'Tis well thou'rt come back to keepe thy day;
For and if thou canst answer my questions three,
Thy life and thy living both saved shall bee.

"And first, when thou seest me here in this stead,
With my crown of golde so faire on my head,
Among all my liege men so noble of birthe,
Tell me to one penny what I am worth."

"For thirty pence our Savior was sold
Amonge the false Jewes, as I have bin told;
And twenty-nine is the worth of thee,
For I thinke, thou art one penny worser than hee."

The king he laughed, and swore by St. Bittel,
"I did not think I had been worth so littel!
--Now secondly tell me, without any doubt,
How soone I may ride this whole world about."

"You must rise with the sun, and ride with the same,
Until the next morning he riseth againe;
And then your grace need not make any doubt,
But in twenty-four hours you'll ride it about."

The king lie laughed, and swore "by St. Jone,
I did not think it could be gone so soone!
--Now from the third question thou must not shrinke,
But tell me here truly what I do thinke."

"Yea, that shall I do, and make your grace merry:
You thinke I'm the abbot of Canterbury;
But I'm his poor shepheard, as plain you may see,
That am come to beg pardon for him and for mee."

The king he laughed, and swore "by the masse,
Ile make thee lord abbot this day in his place!"
"Now naye, my liege, be not in such speede;
For alacke I can neither write ne reade."

"Four nobles a week, then, I will give thee,
For this merry jest thou hast shown unto mee;
And tell the old abbot, when thou comest home,
Thou hast brought him a pardon from good king John."

* * * * *

ROBIN HOOD RESCUING THE WIDOW'S THREE SONS.

There are twelve months in all the year,
As I hear many say,
But the merriest month in all the year
Is the merry month of May.

Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone,
_With a link a down and a day,_
And there he met a silly old woman,
Was weeping on the way.

"What news? what news, thou silly old woman?
What news hast thou for me?"
Said she, "There's my three sons in Nottingham town
To-day condemned to die."

"O, have they parishes burnt?" he said,
"Or have they ministers slain?
Or have they robbed any virgin?
Or other men's wives have ta'en?"

"They have no parishes burnt, good sir,
Nor yet have ministers slain,
Nor have they robbed any virgin,
Nor other men's wives have ta'en."

"O, what have they done?" said Robin Hood,
"I pray thee tell to me."
"It's for slaying of the king's fallow-deer,
Bearing their long bows with thee."

"Dost thou not mind, old woman," he said,
"How thou madest me sup and dine?
By the truth of my body," quoth bold Robin Hood,
"You could not tell it in better time."

Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone,
_With a link a down and a day_,
And there he met with a silly old palmer,
Was walking along the highway.

"What news? what news, thou silly old man?
What news, I do thee pray?"
Said he, "Three squires in Nottingham town
Are condemned to die this day."

"Come change thy apparel with me, old man,
Come change thy apparel for mine;
Here is forty shillings in good silvèr,
Go drink it in beer or wine."

"O, thine apparel is good," he said,
"And mine is ragged and torn;
Wherever you go, wherever you ride,
Laugh ne'er an old man to scorn."

"Come change thy apparel with me, old churl,
Come change thy apparel with mine;
Here are twenty pieces of good broad gold,
Go feast thy brethren with wine."

Then he put on the old man's hat,
It stood full high on the crown:
"The first bold bargain that I come at,
It shall make thee come down."

Then he put on the old man's cloak,
Was patched black, blew, and red;
He thought it no shame all the day long,
To wear the bags of bread.

Then he put on the old man's breeks,
Was patched from leg to side:
"By the truth of my body," bold Robin can say,
"This man loved little pride."

Then he put on the old man's hose,
Were patched from knee to wrist:
"By the truth of my body," said bold Robin Hood,
"I'd laugh if I had any list."

Then he put on the old man's shoes,
Were patched both beneath and aboon;
Then Robin Hood swore a solemn oath,
"It's good habit that makes a man."

Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone,
_With a link a down and a down,_
And there he met with the proud sheriff,
Was walking along the town.

"O Christ you save, O sheriff!" he said;
"O Christ you save and see!
And what will you give to a silly old man
To-day will your hangman be?"

"Some suits, some suits," the sheriff he said,
"Some suits I'll give to thee;
Some suits, some suits, and pence thirteen,
To-day's a hangman's fee."

Then Robin he turns him round about,
And jumps from stock to stone:
"By the truth of my body," the sheriff he said,
"That's well jumpt, thou nimble old man."

"I was ne'er a hangman in all my life,
Nor yet intends to trade;
But curst be he," said bold Robin,
"That first a hangman was made!

"I've a bag for meal, and a bag for malt,
And a bag for barley and corn;
A bag for bread, and a bag for beef,
And a bag for my little small horn.

"I have a horn in my pocket,
I got it from Robin Hood,
And still when I set it to my mouth,
For thee it blows little good."

"O, wind thy horn, thou proud fellow,
Of thee I have no doubt.
I wish that thou give stich a blast,
Till both thy eyes fall out."

The first loud blast that he did blow,
He blew both loud and shrill;
A hundred and fifty of Robin Hood's men
Came riding over the hill.

The next loud blast that he did give,
He blew both loud and amain,
And quickly sixty of Robin Hood's men
Came shining over the plain.

"O, who are these," the sheriff he said,
"Come tripping over the lee?"
"They're my attendants," brave Robin did say;
"They'll pay a visit to thee."

They took the gallows from the slack,
They set it in the glen,
They hanged the proud sheriff on that,
Released their own three men.

* * * * *

ROBIN HOOD AND ALLIN A DALE.

Come listen to me, you gallants so free,
All you that love mirth for to hear,
And I will tell you of a bold outlaw,
That lived in Nottinghamshire.

As Robin Hood in the forest stood,
All under the green-wood tree,
There he was aware of a brave young man,
As fine as fine might be.

The youngster was cloathed in scarlet red,
In scarlet fine and gay;
And he did frisk it over the plain,
And chanted a roundelay.

As Robin Hood next morning stood,
Amongst the leaves so gay,
There did he espy the same young man
Come drooping along the way.

The scarlet he wore the day before,
It was clean cast away;
And at every step he fetcht a sigh,
"Alack and a well a day!"

Then stepped forth brave Little John,
And Midge the miller's son,
Which made the young man bend his bow,
When as he see them come.

"Stand off, stand off," the young man said,
"What is your will with me?"
"You must come before our master straight,
Under yon green-wood tree."

And when he came bold Robin before,
Robin askt him courteously,
"O hast thou any money to spare
For my merry men and me?"

"I have no money," the young man said,
"But five shillings and a ring;
And that I have kept this seven long years,
To have it at my wedding.

"Yesterday I should have married a maid,
But she is now from me tane,
And chosen to be an old knight's delight,
Whereby my poor heart is slain."

"What is thy name?" then said Robin Hood,
"Come tell me, without any fail:"
"By the faith of my body," then said the young man,
"My name it is Allin a Dale."

"What wilt thou give me," said Robin Hood,
"In ready gold or fee,
To help thee to thy true love again,
And deliver her unto thee?"

"I have no money," then quoth the young man,
"No ready gold nor fee,
But I will swear upon a book
Thy true servant for to be."

"How many miles is it to thy true love?
Come tell me without any guile:"
"By the faith of my body," then said the young man,
"It is but five little mile."

Then Robin he hasted over the plain,
He did neither stint nor lin,
Until he came unto the church,
Where Allin should keep his wedding.

"What hast thou here?" the bishop he said,
"I prithee now tell unto me:"
"I am a bold harper," quoth Robin Hood,
"And the best in the north country."

"O welcome, O welcome," the bishop he said,
"That musick best pleaseth me;"
"You shall have no musick," quoth Robin Hood,
"Till the bride and the bridegroom I see."

With that came in a wealthy knight,
Which was both grave and old,
And after him a finikin lass,
Did shine like the glistering gold.

"This is not a fit match," quoth bold Robin Hood,
"That you do seem to make here;
For since we are come into the church,
The bride shall chuse her own dear."

Then Robin Hood put his horn to his mouth,
And blew blasts two or three;
When four and twenty bowmen bold
Came leaping over the lee.

And when they came into the church-yard,
Marching all on a row,
The first man was Allin a Dale,
To give bold Robin his bow.

"This is thy true love," Robin he said,
"Young Allin, as I hear say;
And you shall be married at this same time,
Before we depart away."

"That shall not be," the bishop he said,
"For thy word shall not stand;
They shall be three times askt in the church,
As the law is of our land."

Robin Hood pulld off the bishop's coat,
And put it upon Little John;
"By the faith of my body," then Robin said,
"This cloath does make thee a man."

When Little John went into the quire,
The people began for to laugh;
He askt them seven times in the church,
Lest three times should not be enough.

"Who gives me this maid?" then said Little John;
Quoth Robin Hood, "That do I,
And he that takes her from Allin, a Dale
Full dearly he shall her buy."

And thus having ende of this merry wedding,
The bride lookt like a queen,
And so they returned to the merry green-wood,
Amongst the leaves so green.

* * * * *

ROBIN HOOD'S DEATH AND BURIAL.

When Robin Hood and Little John,
_Down a down, a down, a down,_
Went o'er yon bank of broom,
Said Robin Hood to Little John,
"We have shot for many a pound:"
_Hey down, a down, a down._

"But I am not able to shoot one shot more,
My arrows will not flee;
But I have a cousin lives down below,
Please God, she will bleed me."

Now Robin is to fair Kirkley gone,
As fast as he can win;
But before he came there, as we do hear,
He was taken very ill.

And when that he came to fair Kirkley-hall,
He knocked all at the ring,
But none was so ready as his cousin herself
For to let bold Robin in.

"Will you please to sit down, cousin Robin," she said,
"And drink some beer with me?"
"No, I will neither eat nor drink,
Till I am blooded by thee."

"Well, I have a room, cousin Robin," she said,
"Which you did never see,
And if you please to walk therein,
You blooded by me shall be."

She took him by the lily-white hand,
And led him to a private room,
And there she blooded bold Robin Hood,
Whilst one drop of blood would run.

She blooded him in the vein of the arm,
And locked him up in the room;
There did he bleed all the livelong day,
Untilt the next day at noon.

He then bethought him of a casement door,
Thinking for to be gone;
He was so weak he could not leap,
Nor he could not get down.

He then bethought him of his bugle-horn,
Which hung low down to his knee;
He set his horn unto his mouth,
And blew out weak blasts three.

Then Little John, when hearing him,
As he sat under the tree,
"I fear my master is near dead,
He blows so wearily."

Then Little John to fair Kirkley is gone,
As fast as he can dri'e;
But when he came to Kirkley-hall,
He broke locks two or three:

Untilt he came bold Robin to,
Then he fell on his knee:
"A boon, a boon," cries Little John,
"Master, I beg of thee."

"What is that boon," quoth Robin Hood,
"Little John, thou begs of me?"
"It is to burn fair Kirkley-hall,
And all their nunnery."

"Now nay, now nay," quoth Robin Hood,
"That boon I'll not grant thee;
I never hurt woman in all my life,
Nor man in woman's company.

"I never hurt fair maid in all my time,
Nor at my end shall it be;
But give me my bent bow in my hand,
And a broad arrow I'll let flee;
And where this arrow is taken up,
There shall my grave digg'd be.

"Lay me a green sod under my head,
And another at my feet;
And lay my bent bow by my side,
Which was my music sweet;
And make my grave of gravel and green,
Which is most right and meet.

"Let me have length and breadth enough,
With under my head a green sod;
That they may say, when I am dead,
Here lies bold Robin Hood."

These words they readily promised him,
Which did bold Robin please;
And there they buried bold Robin Hood,
Near to the fair Kirkleys.

* * * * *

ROMANTIC AND DOMESTIC BALLADS.

ANNIE OF LOCHROYAN.

"O wha will shoe my bonny feet?
Or wha will glove my hand?
Or wha will lace my middle jimp,
Wi' a new-made London band?

"And wha will kame my yellow hair,
Wi' a new-made siller kame?
And wha will be my bairn's father,
Till love Gregory come haine?"

"Your father'll shoe your bonny feet,
Your mother glove your hand;
Your sister lace your middle jimp,
Wi' a new-made London band;

"Mysel' will kame your yellow hair
Wi' a new-made siller kame;
And the Lord will be the bairn's father
Till Gregory come hame."

"O gin I had a bonny ship,
And men to sail wi' me,
It's I wad gang to my true lore,
Sin' he winna come to me!"

Her father's gi'en her a bonny ship,
And sent her to the strand;
She's ta'en her young son in her arms,
And turn'd her back to land.

She hadna been on the sea sailing,
About a month or more,
Till landed has she her bonny ship,
Near to her true love's door.

The night was dark, an' the wind was cauld,
And her love was fast asleep,
And the bairn that was in her twa arms,
Fu' sair began to greet.

Lang stood she at her true love's door
And lang tirl'd at the pin;
At length up gat his fause mother,
Says, "Wha's that wad be in?"

"O it is Annie of Lochroyan,
Your love, come o'er the sea,
But and your young son in her arms,
Sae open the door to me."

"Awa, awa, ye ill woman,
Ye're nae come here for gude;
Ye're but a witch, or a vile warlock,
Or mermaiden o' the flood!"

"I'm nae a witch, nor vile warlock,
Nor mermaiden," said she;
"But I am Annie of Lochroyan;
O open the door to me!"

"O gin ye be Annie of Lochroyan,
As I trow not you be,
Now tell me some o' the love-tokens
That pass'd 'tween thee and me."

"O dinna ye mind, love Gregory,
When we sate at the wine,
How we chang'd the napkins frae our necks,
It's no sae lang sinsyne?

"And yours was gude, and gude eneugh,
But nae sae gude as mine;
For yours was o' the cambrick clear,
But mine o' the silk sae fine.

"And dinna ye mind, love Gregory,
As we twa sate at dine,
How we chang'd the rings frae our fingers,
And I can show thee thine?

"And yours was gude, and gude eneugh,
Yet nae sae gude as mine;
For yours was o' the gude red gold,
But mine o' the diamonds fine.

"Sae open the door, love Gregory,
And open it wi' speed;
Or your young son, that is in my arms,
For cauld will soon be dead!"

"Awa, awa, ye ill woman,
Gae frae my door for shame;
For I hae gotten anither fair love,
Sae ye may hie ye hame!"

"O hae ye gotten anither fair love,
For a' the oaths ye sware?
Then fare ye weel, fause Gregory,
For me ye'se never see mair!"

O hooly, hooly gaed she back,
As the day began to peep;
She set her foot on gude ship board,
And sair, sair did she weep.

"Tak down, tak down that mast o' gowd,
Set up the mast o' tree;
Ill sets it a forsaken lady
To sail sae gallantlie!"

Love Gregory started frae his sleep,
And to his mother did say;
"I dream'd a dream this night, mither,
That maks my heart right wae.

"I dream'd that Annie of Lochroyan,
The flower of a' her kin,
Was standing mournin' at iny door,
But nane wad let her in."

"Gin it be for Annie of Lochroyan,
That ye mak a' this din;
She stood a' last night at your door,
But I trow she wan na in!"

"O wae betide ye, ill woman!
An ill deid may ye die,
That wadna open the door to her,
Nor yet wad waken me!"

O quickly, quickly raise he up,
And fast ran to the strand;
And then he saw her, fair Annie,
Was sailing frae the land.

And it's "Hey Annie!" and "How Annie!
O Annie, winna ye bide?"
But aye the mair that he cried "Annie!"
The faster ran the tide.

And it's "Hey Annie!" and "How Annie!
O Annie, speak to me!"
But aye the louder that he cried "Annie!"
The higher raise the sea.

The wind grew loud, and the sea grew rough,
And the ship was rent in twain;
And soon he saw her, fair Annie,
Come floating through the faem.

He saw his young son in her arms,
Baith toss'd abune the tide;
He wrang his hands, and fast he ran,
And plunged in the sea sae wide.

He catch'd her by the yellow hair,
And drew her to the strand;
But cauld and stiff was every limb,
Afore he reach'd the land.

O first he kiss'd her cherry cheek,
And syne he kiss'd her chin,
And sair he kiss'd her bonny lips,
But there was nae breath within.

And he has mourn'd o'er fair Annie,
Till the sun was ganging down,
Syne wi' a sigh his heart it brast,
And his soul to heaven has flown.

* * * * *

LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ANNET.

Lord Thomas and fair Annet
Sat a' day on a hill,
When night was come, and the sun was set,
They had na talk'd their fill.

Lord Thomas said a word in jest,
Fair Annet took it ill;
"O I will never wed a wife,
Against my ain friends' will"

"Gif ye will never wed a wife,
A wife will ne'er wed ye."
Sae he is hame to tell his mither,
And kneel'd upon his knee.

"O rede, O rede, mither," he says,
"A gude rede gie to me;
O sall I tak' the nut-brown bride,
And let fair Annet be?"

"The nut-brown bride has gowd and gear,
Fair Annet she's gat nane,
And the little beauty fair Annet has,
O it will soon be gane."

And he has to his brither gane;
"Now, brither, rede ye me,
O sall I marry the nut-brown bride,
And let fair Annet be?"

"The nut-brown bride has owsen, brither,
The nut-brown bride has kye;
I wad hae you marry the nut-brown bride,
And cast fair Annet by."

"Her owsen may dee in the house, billie,
And her kye into the byre,
And I sall hae naething to mysel,
But a fat fadge by the fire."

And he has to his sister gane;
"Now, sister, rede to me;
O sall I marry the nut-brown bride,
And set fair Annet free?"

"I'se rede ye tak' fair Annet, Thomas,
And let the brown bride alane,
Lest ye sould sigh, and say, Alace,
What is this we brought hame?"

"No! I will tak' my mither's counsel,
And marry me out o' hand;
And I will tak' the nut-brown bride,
Fair Annet may leave the land."

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