A Collection of Ballads Part 31

The twa-some they ha'e slayne the ane, They maul'd him cruellie; Then hung him over the draw-brig, That all the host might see.

They rade their horse, they ran their horse, Then hover'd on the lee: "We be three lads of fair Scotland, That fain wou'd fighting see."

This boasting when young Edward heard, An angry man was he: "I'll take yon lad, I'll bind yon lad, And bring him bound to thee!

"Now, G.o.d forbid," king Edward said, "That ever thou shou'd try!

Three worthy leaders we ha'e lost, And thou the forth wou'd lie.

"If thou shou'dst hang on yon draw-brig, Blythe wou'd I never be."

But, with the poll-axe in his hand, Upon the brig sprang be.

The first stroke that young Edward ga'e, He struck with might and main; He clove the Maitland's helmet stout, And bit right nigh the brain.

When Maitland saw his ain blood fall, An angry man was he; He let his weapon frae him fall, And at his throat did flee.

And thrice about he did him swing, Till on the ground he light, Where he has halden young Edward, Tho' he was great in might.

"Now let him up," king Edward cried, "And let him come to me; And for the deed that thou hast done, Thou shalt ha'e earldomes three!"

"It's ne'er be said in France, nor e'er In Scotland, when I'm hame, That Edward once lay under me, And e'er gat up again!"

He pierced him through and through the heart, He maul'd him cruellie; Then hung him o'er the draw-brig, Beside the other three.

"Now take frae me that feather-bed, Make me a bed of strae!

I wish I hadna lived this day, To make my heart sae wae.

"If I were ance at London Tow'r, Where I was wont to be, I never mair shou'd gang frae hame, Till borne on a bier-tree."

Ballad: The Broomfield Hill

There was a knight and lady bright Set trysts amo the broom, The one to come at morning eav, The other at afternoon.

"I'll wager a wager wi' you," he said, "An hundred marks and ten, That ye shall not go to Broomfield Hills, Return a maiden again."

"I'll wager a wager wi' you," she said, "A hundred pounds and ten, That I will gang to Broomfield Hills, A maiden return again."

The lady stands in her bower door, And thus she made her mane: "Oh, shall I gang to Broomfield Hills, Or shall I stay at hame?

"If I do gang to Broomfield Hills A maid I'll not return; But if I stay from Broomfield Hills, I'll be a maid mis-sworn."

Then out it speaks an auld witch wife, Sat in the bower aboon: "O ye shall gang to Broomfield Hills, Ye shall not stay at hame.

"But when ye gang to Broomfield Hills, Walk nine times round and round; Down below a bonny burn bank, Ye'll find your love sleeping sound.

"Ye'll pu the bloom frae off the broom, Strew't at his head and feet, And aye the thicker that ye do strew, The sounder he will sleep.

"The broach that is on your napkin, Put it on his breast bane, To let him know, when he does wake, That's true love's come and gane.

"The rings that are on your fingers, Lay them down on a stane, To let him know, when he does wake, That's true love's come and gane.

"And when he hae your work all done, Ye'll gang to a bush o' broom, And then you'll hear what he will say, When he sees ye are gane."

When she came to Broomfield Hills, She walked it nine times round, And down below yon burn bank, She found him sleeping sound.

She pu'd the bloom frae off the broom, Strew'd it at 's head and feet, And aye the thicker that she strewd, The sounder he did sleep.

The broach that was on her napkin, She put it on his breast-bane, To let him know, when he did wake, His love was come and gane.

The rings that were on her fingers, She laid upon a stane, To let him know, when he did wake, His love was come and gane.

Now when she had her work all dune, She went to a bush o' broom, That she might hear what he did say, When he saw that she was gane.

"O where were ye my guid grey hound, That I paid for sae dear, Ye didna waken me frae my sleep When my true love was sae near?"

"I sc.r.a.ped wi' my foot, master, Till a' my collars rang, But still the mair that I did sc.r.a.pe, Waken woud ye nane."

"Where were ye, my bony brown steed, That I paid for sae dear, That ye woudna waken me out o' my sleep When my love was sae near?"

"I patted wi my foot, master, Till a' my bridles rang, But the mair that I did patt, Waken woud ye nane."

"O where were ye, my gay goss-hawk That I paid for sae dear, That ye woudna waken me out o' my sleep When ye saw my love near?"

"I flapped wi my wings, master, Till a' my bells they rang, But still, the mair that I did flap, Waken woud ye nane."

"O where were ye, my merry young men That I pay meat and fee, That ye woudna waken me out o' my sleep When my love ye did see?"

"Ye'll sleep mair on the night, master, And wake mair on the day; Gae sooner down to Broomfield Hills When ye've sic pranks to play.

"If I had seen any armed men Come riding over the hill-- But I saw but a fair lady Come quietly you until."

"O wae mat worth yow, my young men, That I pay meat and fee, That ye woudna waken me frae sleep When ye my love did see?

"O had I waked when she was nigh, And o her got my will, I shoudna cared upon the morn The sma birds o her were fill."

When she went out, right bitter she wept, But singing came she hame; Says, "I hae been at Broomfield Hills, And maid returned again."

Ballad: Willie's Ladye

Willie has ta'en him o'er the faem, He's wooed a wife, and brought her hame; He's wooed her for her yellow hair, But his mother wrought her meikle care;

And meikle dolour gar'd her dree, For lighter she can never be; But in her bow'r she sits with pain, And Willie mourns o'er her in vain.