Ballads of Mystery and Miracle and Fyttes of Mirth Part 11

1.

Clark Colven and his gay ladie, As they walked to yon garden green, A belt about her middle gimp, Which cost Clark Colven crowns fifteen:

2.

'O hearken weel now, my good lord, O hearken weel to what I say; When ye gang to the wall o' Stream, O gang nae neer the well-fared may.'

3.

'O haud your tongue, my gay ladie, Tak nae sic care o' me; For I nae saw a fair woman I like so well as thee.'

4.

He mounted on his berry-brown steed, And merry, merry rade he on, Till he came to the wall o' Stream, And there he saw the mermaiden.

5.

'Ye wash, ye wash, ye bonny may, And ay's ye wash your sark o' silk': 'It's a' for you, ye gentle knight, My skin is whiter than the milk.'

6.

He's ta'en her by the milk-white hand, He's ta'en her by the sleeve sae green, And he's forgotten his gay ladie, And away with the fair maiden.

7.

'Ohon, alas!' says Clark Colven, 'And aye sae sair's I mean my head!'

And merrily leugh the mermaiden, 'O win on till you be dead.

8.

'But out ye tak your little pen-knife, And frae my sark ye shear a gare; Row that about your lovely head, And the pain ye'll never feel nae mair.'

9.

Out he has ta'en his little pen-knife, And frae her sark he's shorn a gare, Rowed that about his lovely head, But the pain increased mair and mair.

10.

'Ohon, alas!' says Clark Colven, 'An' aye sae sair's I mean my head!'

And merrily laugh'd the mermaiden, 'It will ay be war till ye be dead.'

11.

Then out he drew his trusty blade, And thought wi' it to be her dead, But she's become a fish again, And merrily sprang into the fleed.

12.

He's mounted on his berry-brown steed, And dowy, dowy rade he home, And heavily, heavily lighted down When to his ladie's bower-door he came.

13.

'Oh, mither, mither, mak my bed, And, gentle ladie, lay me down; Oh, brither, brither, unbend my bow, 'Twill never be bent by me again.'

14.

His mither she has made his bed, His gentle ladie laid him down, His brither he has unbent his bow, 'Twas never bent by him again.

[Annotations: 1.3: 'gimp,' slender.

2.4: 'well-fared may,' well-favoured maiden.

7.3: 'leugh,' laughed.

8.2: 'gare,' strip. See First Series, Introduction, p. 1.

8.3: 'Row,' roll, bind.

10.4: 'war,' worse.

11.4: 'fleed,' flood.

12.2: 'dowy,' sad.]

TAM LIN

???? ? t?? p??t?sta ???? ???et? ?????e???, a?t?? ?pe?ta d????? ?a? p??da??? ?d? ??a? s???

????et? d' ????? ?d?? ?a? d??d?e?? ???p?t????.

_Odyssey_, IV. 456-8.

+The Text+ here given is from Johnson's _Museum_, communicated by Burns.

Scott's version (1802), _The Young Tamlane_, contained certain verses, 'obtained from a gentleman residing near Langholm, which are said to be very ancient, though the language is somewhat of a modern cast.' --'Of a grossly modern invention,' says Child, 'and as unlike popular verse as anything can be.' Here is a specimen:--

'They sing, inspired with love and joy, Like skylarks in the air; Of solid sense, or thought that's grave, You'll find no traces there.'

A copy in the Glenriddell MSS. corresponds very closely with the one here printed, doubtless owing to Burns's friendship with Riddell. Both probably were derived from one common source.

+The Story.+--Although the ballad as it stands is purely Scottish, its main feature, the retransformation of Tam Lin, is found in popular mythology even before Homer's time.

A Cretan ballad, taken down about 1820-30, relates that a young peasant, falling in love with a nereid, was advised by an old woman to seize his beloved by the hair just before c.o.c.k-crow, and hold her fast, whatever transformation she might undergo. He did so; the nymph became in turn a dog, a snake, a camel, and fire. In spite of all, he retained his hold; and at the next crowing of the c.o.c.k she regained her beauty, and accompanied him home. After a year, in which she spoke no word, she bore a son. The peasant again applied to the old woman for a cure, and was advised to tell his wife that if she would not speak, he would throw the baby into the oven. On his carrying out the old woman's suggestion the nereid cried out, 'Let go my child, dog!' tore her baby from him, and vanished.

This tale was current among the Cretan peasantry in 1820. Two thousand years before, Apollodorus had told much the same story of Peleus and Thetis (_Bibliotheca_, iii. 13). The chief difference is that it was Thetis who placed her son on the fire, to make him immortal, and Peleus who cried out. _The Tayl of the yong Tamlene_ is mentioned in the _Complaint of Scotland_ (1549).

Carterhaugh is about a mile from Selkirk, at the confluence of the Ettrick and the Yarrow.

The significance of 34.3, 'Then throw me into well water,' is lost in the present version, by the position of the line _after_ the 'burning gleed,' as it seems the reciter regarded the well-water merely as a means of extinguishing the gleed. But the immersion in water has a meaning far deeper and more interesting than that. It is a widespread and ancient belief in folklore that immersion in water (or sometimes milk) is indispensable to the recovery of human shape, after existence in a supernatural shape, or _vice versa_. The version in the Glenriddell MSS. rightly gives it as the _last_ direction to Janet, to be adopted when the transformations are at an end:--

'First dip me in a stand o' milk, And then a stand o' water.'

For the beginning of _Tam Lin_, compare the meeting of Akin and Lady Margaret in Elmond-wood in _Young Akin_.

TAM LIN

1.

O I forbid you, maidens a', That wear gowd on your hair, To come or gae by Carterhaugh, For young Tam Lin is there.

2.

There's nane that gaes by Carterhaugh But they leave him a wad, Either their rings, or green mantles, Or else their maidenhead.

3.

Janet has kilted her green kirtle A little aboon her knee, And she has broded her yellow hair A little aboon her bree, And she's awa' to Carterhaugh, As fast as she can hie.