"But, for your honest asking else, 85 Weel granted it shall be."-- "Then, gin I die in Southern land, In Scotland gar bury me.
"And the first kirk that ye come to, Ye's gar the mass be sung; 90 And the next kirk that ye come to, Ye's gar the bells be rung.
"And when you come to St. Mary's kirk, Ye's tarry there till night."
And so her father pledg'd his word, 95 And so his promise plight.
She has ta'en her to her bigly bour As fast as she could fare; And she has drank a sleepy draught, That she had mix'd wi' care. 100
And pale, pale, grew her rosy cheek, That was sae bright of blee, And she seem'd to be as surely dead As any one could be.
Then spake her cruel step-minnie, 105 "Tak ye the burning lead, And drap a drap on her bosome, To try if she be dead."
They took a drap o' boiling lead, They drapp'd it on her breast; 110 "Alas! alas!" her father cried, "She's dead without the priest."
She neither chatter'd with her teeth, Nor shiver'd with her chin; "Alas! alas!" her father cried, 115 "There is nae breath within."
Then up arose her seven brethren, And hew'd to her a bier; They hew'd it frae the solid aik, Laid it o'er wi' silver clear. 120
Then up and gat her seven sisters, And sewed to her a kell; And every steek that they put in Sewed to a siller bell.
The first Scots kirk that they cam to, 125 They garr'd the bells be rung; The next Scots kirk that they cam to, They garr'd the mass be sung.
But when they cam to St. Mary's kirk, There stude spearmen all on a raw; 130 And up and started Lord William, The chieftane amang them a.'
"Set down, set down the bier," he said, "Let me look her upon:"
But as soon as Lord William touch'd her hand, Her colour began to come. 136
She brightened like the lily flower, Till her pale colour was gone; With rosy cheek, and ruby lip, She smiled her love upon. 140
"A morsel of your bread, my lord, And one glass of your wine; For I hae fasted these three lang days, All for your sake and mine.--
"Gae hame, gae hame, my seven bauld brothers, Gae hame and blaw your horn! 146 I trow ye wad hae gi'en me the skaith, But I've gi'en you the scorn.
"Commend me to my grey father, That wished my saul gude rest; 150 But wae be to my cruel step-dame, Garr'd burn me on the breast."--
"Ah! woe to you, you light woman!
An ill death may ye die!
For we left father and sisters at hame 155 Breaking their hearts for thee."
v. 26. This simile resembles a passage in a MS. translation of an Irish Fairy tale, called _The Adventures of Faravla, Princess of Scotland, and Carral O'Daly, Son of Donogho More O'Daly, Chief Bard of Ireland_.
"Faravla, as she entered her bower, cast her looks upon the earth, which was tinged with the blood of a bird which a raven had newly killed: 'Like that snow,' said Faravla, 'was the complexion of my beloved, his cheeks like the sanguine traces thereon; whilst the raven recalls to my memory the colour of his beautiful locks.'" There is also some resemblance in the conduct of the story, betwixt the ballad and the tale just quoted. The Princess Faravla, being desperately in love with Carral O'Daly, despatches in search of him a faithful confidante, who, by her magical art, transforms herself into a hawk, and, perching upon the windows of the bard, conveys to him information of the distress of the Princess of Scotland. SCOTT.
THE JOLLY GOSHAWK.
Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 353.
"O well is me, my jolly goshawk, That ye can speak and flee; For ye can carry a love-letter To my true love from me."
"O how can I carry a letter to her, 5 When her I do not know?
I bear the lips to her never spak, And the eyes that her never saw."
"The thing of my love's face that's white Is that of dove or maw; 10 The thing of my love's face that's red Is like blood shed on snaw.
"And when you come to the castel, Light on the bush of ash; And sit you there and sing our loves, 15 As she comes from the mass.
"And when she gaes into the house, Sit ye upon the whin; And sit you there and sing our loves, As she goes out and in." 20
And when he flew to that castel, He lighted on the ash; And there he sat and sung their loves, As she came from the mass.
And when she went into the house, 25 He flew unto the whin; And there he sat and sung their loves, As she went out and in.
"Come hitherward, my maidens all, And sip red wine anon, 30 Till I go to my west window, And hear a birdie's moan."
She's gane unto her west window, And fainly aye it drew; And soon into her white silk lap 35 The bird the letter threw.
"Ye're bidden send your love a send, For he has sent you twa; And tell him where he can see you, Or he cannot live ava." 40
"I send him the rings from my white fingers, The garlands 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, 45 Ye'll bid him meet me there."
She hied her to her father dear, As fast as gang could she: "An asking, an asking, my father dear, An asking ye grant me,-- 50 That, if I die in fair England, In Scotland gar bury me.
"At the first kirk of fair Scotland, You cause the bells be rung; At the second kirk of fair Scotland, 55 You cause the mass be sung;
"At the third kirk of fair Scotland, You deal gold for my sake; And at the fourth kirk of fair Scotland, Oh there you'll bury me at! 60
"And now, my tender father dear, This asking grant you me:"
"Your asking is but small," he said, "Weel granted it shall be."
[_The lady asks the same boon and receives a similar answer, first from her mother, then from her sister, and lastly from her seven brothers._]
Then down as dead that lady drapp'd, 65 Beside her mother's knee; Then out it spak an auld witch wife, By the fire-side sat she:
Says,--"Drap the het lead on her cheek, And drap it on her chin, 70 And drap it on her rose red lips, And she will speak again: For much a lady young will do, To her true love to win."
They drapp'd the het lead on her cheek, 75 So did they on her chin; They drapp'd it on her red rose lips, But they breathed none again.
Her brothers they went to a room, To make to her a bier; 80 The boards of it were cedar wood, And the plates on it gold so clear.
Her sisters they went to a room, To make to her a sark; The cloth of it was satin fine, 85 And the steeking silken wark.
"But well is me, my jolly goshawk, That ye can speak and flee; Come shew to me any love tokens That you have brought to me." 90