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"What aileth you, my daughter, Janet, You look sae pale and wan? 10 There is a dreder in your heart, Or else ye love a man."

"There is no dreder in my heart, Nor do I love a man; But it is for your long byding 15 Into the land of Spain."

"Ye'll cast aff your bonny brown gown, And lay it on a stane; And I'll tell you, my jelly Janet, If ever ye loved a man." 20

She's cast off her bonny brown gown, And laid it on a stane; Her belly was big, her twa sides high, Her colour it was quite gane.

"O is it to a man o' might, Janet? 25 Or is it till a man that's mean?

Or is it to one of my poor soldiers, That I've brought hame frae Spain?"

"It's not till a man o' might," she says, "Nor yet to a man that's mean; 30 But it is to Thomas o' Winesberry, That cannot langer len'."

"O where are all my wall-wight men, That I pay meat and fee; That will gae for him, true Thomas, 35 And bring him here to me?

For the morn, ere I eat or drink, High hanged shall he be."

She's turn'd her right and round about, The tear blindet her e'e; 40 "If ye do any ill to true Thomas, Ye'se never get guid o' me."

When Thomas came before the king, He glanced like the fire; His hair was like the threads o' gowd, 45 His eyes like crystal clear.

"It was nae wonder, my daughter, Janet, Altho' ye loved this man; If he were a woman, as he is a man, My bed-fellow he would been. 50

"O will ye marry my daughter Janet?

The truth's in your right hand; Ye'se hae some o' my gowd, and some o' my gear, And the twalt part o' my land."

"It's I will marry your daughter Janet; 55 The truth's in my right hand; I'll hae nane o' your gowd, nor nane o' your gear, I've enough in my own land.

"But I will marry your daughter Janet, With thirty ploughs and three, 60 And four an' twenty bonny breast-mills, All on the water of Dee.


Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, ii. 191. From the recitation of Mrs.


"How brent's your brow, my Lady Elspat?

How gouden yellow is your hair?

O' a' the maids o' fair Scotland, There's nane like Lady Elspat fair."

"Perform your vows, sweet William," she says, 5 "The vows which ye ha' made to me; And at the back o' my mither's castell, This night I'll surely meet wi' thee."

But wae be to her brother's page, That heard the words thir twa did say; 10 He's tald them to her lady mither, Wha wrought sweet William mickle wae.

For she has ta'en him, sweet William, And she's gar'd bind him wi' his bow string, Till the red bluid o' his fair body 15 Frae ilka nail o' his hand did spring.

O it fell ance upon a time That the Lord-justice came to town; Out has she ta'en him, sweet William, Brought him before the Lord-justice boun'. 20

"And what is the crime, now, lady," he says, "That has by this young man been dane?"

"O he has broken my bonny castell, That was weel biggit wi' lime and stane.

"And he has broken my bonny coffers, 25 That was weel bandit wi' aiken ban; And he has stown my rich jewels; I wot he has stown them every ane."

Then out it spak her Lady Elspat, As she sat by Lord-justice' knee; 30 "Now ye hae told your tale, mither, I pray, Lord-justice, ye'll now hear me.

"He hasna broken her bonny castell, That was weel biggit wi' lime and stane; Nor has he stown her rich jewels, 35 For I wat she has them every ane.

"But though he was my first true love, And though I had sworn to be his bride, 'Cause he hadna a great estate, She would this way our loves divide." 40

Syne out and spak the Lord-justice, I wat the tear was in his e'e; "I see nae faut in this young man; Sae loose his bands, and set him free.

"And tak your love, now, Lady Elspat, 45 And my best blessin' you baith upon; For gin he be your first true love, He is my eldest sister's son.

"There stands a steed in my stable, Cost me baith gold and white mony; 50 Ye's get as mickle o' my free land As he'll ride about in a summer's day."


"This 'pleasant History,' which 'may be sung to the tune of Floras Farewell,' is here republished from a copy printed at London for F.

Cotes and others, 1677, 12mo. bl. 1., preserved in the curious and valuable collection of that excellent and most respected antiquary Antony a Wood, in the Ashmolean Museum; compared with another impression, for the same partners, without date, in the editor's possession. A different copy of the poem, more in the ballad form, was published, and may be found among the king's pamphlets in the British Museum. Both copies are conjectured to have been modernized, by different persons, from some common original, which has hitherto eluded the vigilance of collectors, but is strongly suspected to have been the composition of an old North country minstrel.

"The full title is, _The Lovers Quarrel: or Cupids Triumph: being the pleasant history of Fair Rosamond of Scotland. Being daughter to the Lord Arundel, whose love was obtained by the valour of Tommy Pots: who conquered the Lord Phenix, and wounded him, and after obtained her to be his wife. Being very delightful to read_." RITSON, _Pieces of Ancient Popular Poetry_, p. 135.

Of all the lords in Scotland fair, And ladies that been so bright of blee, There is a noble lady among them all, And report of her you shall hear by me.

For of her beauty she is bright, 5 And of her colour very fair, She's daughter to Lord Arundel, Approv'd his parand and his heir.

"Ile see this bride," Lord Phenix said, "That lady of so bright a blee, 10 And if I like her countenance well, The heir of all my lands she'st be."

But when he came the lady before, Before this comely maid came he, "O God thee save, thou lady sweet, 15 My heir and parand thou shalt be."

"Leave off your suit," the lady said, "As you are a lord of high degree; You may have ladies enough at home, And I have a lord in mine own country: 20

"For I have a lover true of mine own, A serving-man of low degree, One Tommy Pots it is his name, My first love, and last that ever shall be."

"If that Tom Pots [it] is his name, 25 I do ken him right verily; I am able to spend fourty pounds a week, Where he is not able to spend pounds three."

"God give you good of your gold," she said, "And ever God give you good of your fee, 30 Tom Pots was the first love that ever I had, And I do mean him the last to be."

With that Lord Phenix soon was mov'd; Towards the lady did he threat; He told her father, and so it was prov'd, 35 How his [fair] daughters mind was set.

"O daughter dear, thou art my own, The heir of all my lands to be; Thou shalt be bride to the Lord Phenix, If that thou mean to be heir to me." 40

"O father dear, I am your own, And at your command I needs must be, But bind my body to whom you please, My heart, Tom Pots, shall go with thee."

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