Golden Numbers Part 74

She had him put on good shipboard, That he might safely cross the main; Then said, "Adieu! my Christian lord, I fear we ne'er may meet again."

Lord Beichan turn'd him round about, And lowly, lowly bent his knee; "Ere seven years are come and gone, I'll take you to my own countrie."

But Susie Pye cou'd get no rest, Nor day nor night cou'd happy be; For something whisper'd in her breast, "Lord Beichan will prove false to thee."

So she set foot on good shipboard, Well mann'd and fitted gallantlie; She bade adieu to her father's towers, And left behind her own countrie.

Then she sailed west, and she sailed north, She sailed far o'er the salt sea faem; And after many weary days, Unto fair England's sh.o.r.e she came.

Then she went to Lord Beichan's gate, And she tirl'd gently at the pin, And ask'd--"Is this Lord Beichan's hall, And is that n.o.ble lord within?"

The porter ready answer made,-- "Oh yes, this is Lord Beichan's hall; And he is also here within, With bride and guests a.s.sembled all."

"And has he betroth'd another love, And has he quite forgotten me, To whom he plighted his love and troth, When from prison I did him free?

"Bear to your lord, ye proud porter, This parted ring, the plighted token Of mutual love, and mutual vows, By him, alas! now falsely broken.

"And bid him send one bit of bread, And bid him send one cup of wine, Unto the maid he hath betray'd, Tho' she freed him from cruel pine."

The porter hasten'd to his lord, And fell down on his bended knee: "My lord, a lady stands at your gate, The fairest lady I e'er did see.

"On every finger she has a ring, And on her middle finger three; With as much gold above her brow As wou'd buy an earldom to me."

It's out then spake the bride's mother, Both loud and angry out spake she,-- "Ye might have excepted our bonnie bride, If not more of this companie."

"My dame, your daughter's fair enough, Her beauty's not denied by me; But were she ten times fairer still, With this lady ne'er compare cou'd she.

"My lord, she asks one bit of bread, And bids you send one cup of wine; And to remember the lady's love, Who freed you out of cruel pine."

Lord Beichan hied him down the stair,-- Of fifteen steps he made but three, Until he came to Susie Pye, Whom he did kiss most tenderlie.

He's ta'en her by the lily hand, And led her to his n.o.ble hall, Where stood his sore-bewilder'd bride, And wedding guests a.s.sembled all.

Fair Susie blushing look'd around, Upon the lords and ladies gay; Then with the tear-drops in her eyes, Unto Lord Beichan she did say:

"Oh, have ye ta'en another bride, And broke your plighted vows to me?

Then fare thee well, my Christian lord, I'll try to think no more on thee.

"But sadly I will wend my way, And sadly I will cross the sea, And sadly will with grief and shame Return unto my own countrie."

"Oh, never, never, Susie Pye, Oh, never more shall you leave me; This night you'll be my wedded wife, And lady of my lands so free."

Syne up then spake the bride's mother, She ne'er before did speak so free,-- "You'll not forsake my dear daughter, For sake of her from Pagandie."

"Take home, take home your daughter dear, She's not a pin the worse of me; She came to me on horseback riding, But shall go back in a coach and three."

Lord Beichan got ready another wedding, And sang, with heart brimful of glee,-- "Oh, I'll range no more in foreign lands, Since Susie Pye has cross'd the sea."

OLD BALLAD.

_The Gay Gos-hawk_

"O well is me, my gay gos-hawk, That you can speak and flee; For you can carry a love-letter To my true love frae me."

"O how can I carry a letter to her, Or how should I her know?

I bear a tongue ne'er wi' her spak', And eyes that ne'er her saw."

"The white o' my love's skin is white As down o' dove or maw; The red o' my love's cheek is red As blood that's spilt on snaw.

"When ye come to the castle, Light on the tree of ash, And sit you there and sing our loves As she comes frae the ma.s.s.

"Four and twenty fair ladies Will to the ma.s.s repair; And weel may ye my lady ken, The fairest lady there."

When the gos-hawk flew to that castle, He lighted on the ash; And there he sat and sang their loves As she came frae the ma.s.s.

"Stay where ye be, my maidens a', And sip red wine anon, Till I go to my west window And hear a birdie's moan."

She's gane unto her west window, The bolt she fainly drew; And unto that lady's white, white neck The bird a letter threw.

"Ye're bidden to send your love a send, For he has sent you twa; And tell him where he may see you soon, Or he cannot live ava."

"I send him the ring from my finger, The garland off my hair, I send him the heart that's in my breast; What would my love have mair?

And at the fourth kirk in fair Scotland, Ye'll bid him wait for me there."

She hied her to her father dear As fast as gang could she: "I'm sick at the heart, my father dear; An asking grant you me!"

"Ask me na for that Scottish lord, For him ye'll never see!"

"An asking, an asking, dear father!" she says, "An asking grant you me; That if I die in fair England, In Scotland ye'll bury me.

"At the first kirk o' fair Scotland, You cause the bells be rung; At the second kirk o' fair Scotland, You cause the ma.s.s be sung;

"At the third kirk o' fair Scotland, You deal gold for my sake; At the fourth kirk o' fair Scotland, O there you'll bury me at!

"This is all my asking, father, I pray you grant it me!"

"Your asking is but small," he said; "Weel granted it shall be.

But why do ye talk o' suchlike things?

For ye arena going to dee."

The lady's gane to her chamber, And a moanfu' woman was she, As gin she had ta'en a sudden brash, And were about to dee.

The lady's gane to her chamber As fast as she could fare; And she has drunk a sleepy draught, She mix'd it wi' mickle care.

She's fallen into a heavy trance, And pale and cold was she; She seemed to be as surely dead As ony corpse could be.

Out and spak' an auld witch-wife, At the fireside sat she: "Gin she has killed herself for love, I wot it weel may be:

"But drap the het lead on her cheek, And drap in on her chin, And rap it on her bosom white, And she'll maybe speak again.