Ballad Book Part 23

And she has broken her finger-ring, And to Beichan half of it gave she: "Keep it, to mind you in foreign land Of the lady's love that set you free.

"And set your foot on good s.h.i.+p-board, And haste ye back to your ain countrie, And before that seven years have an end, Come back again, love, and marry me."

But lang ere seven years had an end, She longed full sore her love to see, So she's set her foot on good s.h.i.+p-board, And turned her back on her ain countrie.

She sailed east, she sailed west, Till to fair England's sh.o.r.e she came, Where a bonny shepherd she espied, Was feeding his sheep upon the plain.

"What news, what news, thou bonny shepherd?

What news hast thou to tell to me?"

"Such news I hear, ladie," he says, "The like was never in this countrie.

"There is a wedding in yonder hall, And ever the bells ring merrilie; It is Lord Beichan's wedding-day Wi' a lady fair o' high degree."

She's putten her hand into her pocket, Gi'en him the gold and white monie; "Hay, take ye that, my bonny boy, All for the news thou tell'st to me."

When she came to young Beichan's gate, She tirled saftly at the pin; So ready was the proud porter To open and let this lady in.

"Is this young Beichan's hall," she said, "Or is that n.o.ble lord within?"

"Yea, he's in the hall among them all, And this is the day o' his weddin."

"And has he wed anither love?

And has he clean forgotten me?"

And sighin said that ladie gay, "I wish I were in my ain countrie."

And she has ta'en her gay gold ring That with her love she brake sae free; Says, "Gie him that, ye proud porter, And bid the bridegroom speak wi' me."

When the porter came his lord before, He kneeled down low upon his knee: "What aileth thee, my proud porter, Thou art so full of courtesie?"

"I've been porter at your gates, It's now for thirty years and three; But the lovely lady that stands thereat, The like o' her did I never see.

"For on every finger she has a ring, And on her mid-finger she has three, And meikle gold aboon her brow.

Sae fair a may did I never see."

It's out then spak the bride's mother, And an angry woman, I wot, was she: "Ye might have excepted our bonny bride, And twa or three of our companie."

"O hold your tongue, thou bride's mother, Of all your folly let me be; She's ten times fairer nor the bride, And all that's in your companie.

"And this golden ring that's broken in twa, This half o' a golden ring sends she: 'Ye'll carry that to Lord Beichan,' she says, 'And bid him come an' speak wi' me.'

"She begs one sheave of your white bread, But and a cup of your red wine, And to remember the lady's love That last relieved you out of pine."

"O well-a-day!" said Beichan then, "That I so soon have married me!

For it can be none but Susie Pye, That for my love has sailed the sea."

And quickly hied he down the stair; Of fifteen steps he made but three; He's ta'en his bonny love in his arms And kist and kist her tenderlie.

"O hae ye ta'en anither bride?

And hae ye clean forgotten me?

And hae ye quite forgotten her That gave you life and libertie?"

She lookit o'er her left shoulder, To hide the tears stood in her ee: "Now fare thee well, young Beichan," she says, "I'll try to think no more on thee."

"O never, never, Susie Pye, For surely this can never be, Nor ever shall I wed but her That's done and dreed so much for me."

Then out and spak the forenoon bride: "My lord, your love it changeth soon.

This morning I was made your bride, And another chose ere it be noon."

"O hold thy tongue, thou forenoon bride, Ye're ne'er a whit the worse for me, And whan ye return to your ain land, A double dower I'll send with thee."

He's ta'en Susie Pye by the milkwhite hand, And led her thro' the halls sae hie, And aye as he kist her red-rose lips, "Ye're dearly welcome, jewel, to me."

He's ta'en her by the milkwhite hand, And led her to yon fountain-stane; He's changed her name from Susie Pye, And call'd her his bonny love, Lady Jane.

GILDEROY.

Gilderoy was a bonnie boy, Had roses till his shoon, His stockings were of silken soy, Wi' garters hanging doun: It was, I ween, a comely sight, To see sae trim a boy; He was my joy and heart's delight, My winsome Gilderoy.

O sic twa charming e'en he had, A breath as sweet as rose, He never ware a Highland plaid, But costly silken clothes; He gained the love of ladies gay, Nane e'er to him was coy; Ah, wae is me! I mourn this day For my dear Gilderoy.

My Gilderoy and I were born Baith in one toun together, We scant were seven years beforn We 'gan to luve each ither; Our daddies and our mammies they Were fill'd wi' meikle joy, To think upon the bridal day Of me and Gilderoy.

For Gilderoy, that luve of mine, Gude faith, I freely bought A wedding sark of Holland fine, Wi' dainty ruffles wrought; And he gied me a wedding-ring, Which I received wi' joy; Nae lad nor la.s.sie e'er could sing Like me and Gilderoy.

Wi' meikle joy we spent our prime, Till we were baith sixteen, And aft we pa.s.sed the langsam time Amang the leaves sae green; Aft on the banks we'd sit us there, And sweetly kiss and toy; Wi' garlands gay wad deck my hair My handsome Gilderoy.

O that he still had been content Wi' me to lead his life!

But ah, his manfu' heart was bent To stir in feats of strife.

And he in many a venturous deed His courage bold wad try; And now this gars my heart to bleed For my dear Gilderoy.

And when of me his leave he took, The tears they wat mine e'e; I gied him sic a parting look: "My benison gang wi' thee!

G.o.d speed thee weel, my ain dear heart, For gane is all my joy; My heart is rent sith we maun part, My handsome Gilderoy."

The Queen of Scots possessed nought That my luve let me want; For cow and ewe he to me brought, And e'en when they were scant: All these did honestly possess, He never did annoy Who never failed to pay their cess To my luve Gilderoy.

My Gilderoy, baith far and near, Was fear'd in every toun, And bauldly bare awa' the gear Of many a lawland loun: For man to man durst meet him nane, He was sae brave a boy; At length with numbers he was ta'en, My winsome Gilderoy.

Wae worth the loun that made the laws, To hang a man for gear; To reive of life for sic a cause, As stealing horse or mare!

Had not these laws been made sae strick, I ne'er had lost my joy, Wi' sorrow ne'er had wat my cheek, For my dear Gilderoy.

Gif Gilderoy had done amiss, He might have banished been.

Ah, what sair cruelty is this, To hang sic handsome men!

To hang the flower o' Scottish land, Sae sweet and fair a boy!

Nae lady had so white a hand As thee, my Gilderoy.

Of Gilderoy sae 'fraid they were, They bound him meikle strong, To Edinburgh they took him there, And on a gallows hung: They hung him high aboon the rest, He was sae trim a boy; There died the youth whom I lo'ed best, My handsome Gilderoy.