A Collection of Ballads Part 28

"Now well-a-day!" said the heire of Lynne, "Now well-a-day, and woe is mee!

"For now I have sold my lands so broad That merry man is irke with mee; But when that I was the Lord of Lynne Then on my land I lived merrily;

"And now I have sold my land so broade That I have not left me one pennye!

G.o.d be with my father!" he said, "On his land he lived merrily."

Still in a study there as he stood, He unbethought him of a bill, He unbethought him of a bill Which his father had left with him.

Bade him he should never on it looke Till he was in extreame neede, "And by my faith," said the heire of Lynne, "Then now I had never more neede."

He tooke the bill and looked it on, Good comfort that he found there; It told him of a castle wall Where there stood three chests in feare:

Two were full of the beaten gold, The third was full of white money.

He turned then downe his bags of bread And filled them full of gold so red.

Then he did never cease nor blinne Till John of the Scales house he did winne.

When that he came John of the Scales, Up at the speere he looked then;

There sate three lords upon a rowe, And John o' the Scales sate at the bord's head, And John o' the Scales sate at the bord's head Because he was the lord of Lynne.

And then bespake the heire of Lynne To John o' the Scales wife thus sayd hee, Sayd "Dame, wilt thou not trust me one shott That I may sit downe in this company?"

"Now Christ's curse on my head," she said, "If I do trust thee one pennye,"

Then bespake a good fellowe, Which sate by John o' the Scales his knee,

Said "have thou here, thou heire of Lynne, Forty-pence I will lend thee,-- Some time a good fellow thou hast beene And other forty if it need bee."

They drunken wine that was so cleere, And every man they made merry, And then bespake him John o' the Scales Unto the Lord of Lynne said hee;

Said "how doest thou heire of Lynne, Since I did buy thy lands of thee?

I will sell it to thee twenty better cheepe, Nor ever did I buy it of thee."

"I draw you to recorde, lords all:"

With that he cast him G.o.d's penny; Then he tooke to his bags of bread, And they were full of the gold so red.

He told him the gold then over the borde It wanted never a broad pennye; "That gold is thine, the land is mine, And the heire of Lynne againe I will bee."

"Now well-a-day!" said John o' the Scales' wife, "Well-a-day, and woe is me!

Yesterday I was the lady of Lynne, And now I am but John o' the Scales wife!"

Says "have thou here, thou good fellow, Forty pence thou did lend me; Forty pence thou did lend me, And forty I will give thee, I'll make thee keeper of my forrest, Both of the wild deere and the tame."

But then bespake the heire of Lynne, These were the words and thus spake hee, "Christ's curse light upon my crowne If ere my land stand in any jeopardye!"

Ballad: Gordon Of Brackley

Down Deeside cam Inveraye Whistlin' and playing, An' called loud at Brackley gate Ere the day dawning-- "Come, Gordon of Brackley.

Proud Gordon, come down, There's a sword at your threshold Mair sharp than your own."

"Arise now, gay Gordon,"

His lady 'gan cry, "Look, here is bold Inveraye Driving your kye."

"How can I go, lady, An' win them again, When I have but ae sword, And Inveraye ten?"

"Arise up, my maidens, Wi' roke and wi' fan, How blest had I been Had I married a man!

Arise up, my maidens, Tak' spear and tak' sword, Go milk the ewes, Gordon, An' I will be lord."

The Gordon sprung up Wi' his helm on his head, Laid his hand on his sword, An' his thigh on his steed, An' he stooped low, and said, As he kissed his young dame, "There's a Gordon rides out That will never ride hame."

There rode with fierce Inveraye Thirty and three, But wi' Brackley were nane But his brother and he; Twa gallanter Gordons Did never blade draw, But against three-and-thirty Wae's me! what are twa?

Wi' sword and wi' dagger They rushed on him rude; The twa gallant Gordons Lie bathed in their blude.

Frae the springs o' the Dee To the mouth o' the Tay, The Gordons mourn for him, And curse Inveraye.

"O were ye at Brackley?

An' what saw ye there?

Was his young widow weeping An' tearing her hair?"

"I looked in at Brackley, I looked in, and oh!

There was mirth, there was feasting, But naething o' woe.

"As a rose bloomed the lady, An' blithe as a bride, As a bridegroom bold Inveraye Smiled by her side.

Oh! she feasted him there As she ne'er feasted lord, While the blood of her husband Was moist on his sword.

"In her chamber she kept him Till morning grew gray, Thro' the dark woods of Brackley She shewed him the way.

'Yon wild hill,' she said, 'Where the sun's shining on, Is the hill of Glentanner,-- One kiss, and begone!'"

There's grief in the cottage, There's grief in the ha', For the gude, gallant Gordon That's dead an' awa'.

To the bush comes the bud, An' the flower to the plain, But the gude and the brave They come never again.

Ballad: Edward, Edward

"Why does your brand sae drop wi' blude, Edward, Edward?

Why does your brand sae drop wi' blude And why sae sad gang ye, O?"

"O I hae killed my hawk sae gude, Mither, mither; O I hae killed my hawk sae gude, And I hae nae mair but he, O."

"Your hawk's blude was never sae red, Edward, Edward; Your hawk's blude was never sae red, My dear son, I tell thee, O."

"O I hae killed my red-roan steed, Mither, mither; O I hae killed my red-roan steed, That was sae fair and free, O."

"Your steed was auld, and ye've plenty mair, Edward, Edward; Your steed was auld, and ye've plenty mair; Some ither dule ye dree, O."

"O I hae killed my father dear, Mither, mither; O I hae killed my father dear, Alas, and wae is me, O!"

"And whatten penance will ye dree for that, Edward, Edward?