The Book of Ballads Part 11

"Light doun, light doun now, ladye mine, Light doun upon the sh.o.r.e; Nae English king has trodden here This thousand years and more."

"And gin I lighted on your land, As light fu' weel I may, O am I free to feast wi' you, And free to come and gae?"

And he has sworn by the Haly Rood, And the black stane o' Dumblane, That she is free to come and gae Till twenty days are gane.

"I've lippened to a Frenchman's aith,"

Said gude Lord Aberdeen; "But I'll never lippen to it again, Sae lang's the gra.s.s is green.

"Yet gae your ways, my sovereign liege, Sin' better mayna be; The wee bit bairns are safe at hame, By the blessing o' Marie!"

Then doun she lighted frae the s.h.i.+p, She lighted safe and sound; And glad was our good Prince Albert To step upon the ground.

"Is that your Queen, my Lord," she said, "That auld and buirdly dame?

I see the crown upon her head; But I dinna ken her name."

And she has kissed the Frenchman's Queen, And eke her daughters three, And gien her hand to the young Princess, That louted upon the knee.

And she has gane to the proud castel, That's biggit beside the sea: But aye, when she thought o' the bairns at hame, The tear was in her ee.

She gied the King the Ches.h.i.+re cheese, But and the porter fine; And he gied her the puddock-pies, But and the blude-red wine.

Then up and spak the dourest Prince, An admiral was he; "Let's keep the Queen o' England here, Sin' better mayna be!

"O mony is the dainty king That we hae trappit here; And mony is the English yerl That's in our dungeons drear!"

"You lee, you lee, ye graceless loon, Sae loud's I hear ye lee!

There never yet was Englishman That came to skaith by me.

"Gae oot, gae oot, ye fause traitour!

Gae oot until the street; It's shame that Kings and Queens should sit Wi' sic a knave at meat!"

Then up and raise the young French lord, In wrath and hie disdain-- "O ye may sit, and ye may eat Your puddock-pies alane!

"But were I in my ain gude s.h.i.+p, And sailing wi' the wind, And did I meet wi' auld Napier, I'd tell him o' my mind."

O then the Queen leuch loud and lang, And her colour went and came; "Gin ye meet wi' Charlie on the sea, Ye'll wish yersel at hame!"

And aye they birlit at the wine, And drank richt merrilie, Till the auld c.o.c.k crawed in the castle-yard, And the abbey bell struck three.

The Queen she gaed until her bed, And Prince Albert likewise; And the last word that gay ladye said Was--"O thae puddock-pies!"

PART II.

The sun was high within the lift Afore the French King raise; And syne he louped intil his sark, And warslit on his claes.

"Gae up, gae up, my little foot-page, Gae up until the toun; And gin ye meet wi' the auld harper, Be sure ye bring him doun."

And he has met wi' the auld harper; O but his een were reid; And the bizzing o' a swarm o' bees Was singing in his heid.

"Alack! alack!" the harper said, "That this should e'er hae been!

I daurna gang before my liege, For I was fou yestreen."

"It's ye maun come, ye auld harper: Ye daurna tarry lang; The King is just dement.i.t-like For wanting o' a sang."

And when he came to the King's chamber, He lout.i.t on his knee, "O what may be your gracious will Wi' an auld frail man like me?"

"I want a sang, harper," he said, "I want a sang richt speedilie; And gin ye dinna make a sang, I'll hang ye up on the gallows tree."

"I canna do't, my liege," he said, "Hae mercy on my auld grey hair!

But gin that I had got the words, I think that I might mak the air."

"And wha's to mak the words, fause loon, When minstrels we have barely twa; And Lamartine is in Paris toun, And Victor Hugo far awa?"

"The diel may gang for Lamartine, And flee away wi' auld Hugo, For a better minstrel than them baith Within this very toun I know.

"O kens my liege the gude Walter, At hame they ca' him BON GAULTIER?

He'll rhyme ony day wi' True Thomas, And he is in the castle here."

The French King first he lauchit loud, And syne did he begin to sing; "My een are auld, and my heart is cauld, Or I suld hae known the minstrels' King.

"Gae take to him this ring o' gowd, And this mantle o' the silk sae fine, And bid him mak a maister sang For his sovereign ladye's sake and mine."

"I winna take the gowden ring, Nor yet the mantle fine: But I'll mak the sang for my ladye's sake, And for a cup of wine."

The Queen was sitting at the cards, The King ahint her back; And aye she dealed the red honours, And aye she dealed the black;

And syne unto the dourest Prince She spak richt courteouslie;-- "Now will ye play, Lord Admiral, Now will ye play wi' me?"

The dourest Prince he bit his lip, And his brow was black as glaur; "The only game that e'er I play Is the bluidy game o' war!"

"And gin ye play at that, young man, It weel may cost ye sair; Ye'd better stick to the game at cards, For you'll win nae honours there!"

The King he leuch, and the Queen she leuch, Till the tears ran blithely doon; But the Admiral he raved and swore, Till they kicked him frae the room.

The harper came, and the harper sang, And oh but they were fain; For when he had sung the gude sang twice, They called for it again.

It was the sang o' the Field o' Gowd, In the days of auld langsyne; When bauld King Henry crossed the seas, Wi' his brither King to dine.

And aye he harped, and aye he carped, Till up the Queen she sprang-- "I'll wad a County Palatine, Gude Walter made that sang."

Three days had come, three days had gane, The fourth began to fa', When our gude Queen to the Frenchman said, "It's time I was awa!

"O, bonny are the fields o' France, And saftly draps the rain; But my bairnies are in Windsor Tower, And greeting a' their lane.

"Now ye maun come to me, Sir King, As I have come to ye; And a benison upon your heid For a' your courtesie!