Motherwell's Manuscript, p. 472.
| 1 |
Ben came to her father dear,
Stepping upon the floor;
Says, It's told me, my daughter Janet,
That you're now become a whore. |
| 2 |
'A whore, father, a whore, father?
That's what I'll never be,
Tho I am with bairn to an English lord,
That first did marry me.' |
| 3 |
Soon after spoke her bower-woman,
And sorely did she cry:
'Oh woe is me, my lady fair,
That ever I saw this day! |
| 4 |
'For your father's to the fire, Janet,
Your brother's to the whin,
Even to kindle a bold bonefire, |
| 5 |
'Where will I get a bonnie boy,
Will win gold to his fee,
That will run on to fair England
For my good lord to me?' |
| 6 |
'Oh here am I, your waiting-boy,
Would win gold to my fee,
And will carry any message for you,
By land or yet by sea.' |
| 7 |
And when he fand the bridges broke,
He bent his bow and swam,
But when he fand the grass growing,
He slacked it and ran. |
| 8 |
And when he came to that lord's gate,
Stopt not to knock nor call,
But set his bent bow to his breast,
And lightly lap the wall. |
| 9 |
And ere the porter was at the gate
The boy was in the hall,
And in that noble lord's presence
He on his knee did fall. |
| 10 |
'O is my biggins broken?' he said,
'Or is my towers won?
Or is my lady lighter yet,
Of daughter of or son?' |
| 11 |
'Your biggins are not broken,' he said,
'Nor is your towers won,
Nor is your lady lighter yet,
Of daughter or of son;
But if you stay a little time
Her life it will be gone. |
| 12 |
'For her father's gone to the fire,
Her brother to the whin,
Even to kindle a bold bonfire,
To burn her body in.' |
| 13 |
'Go saddle for me in haste,' he cried,
'A brace of horses soon;
Go saddle for me the swiftest steeds
That ever rode to a town.' |
| 14 |
The first steed that he rade on,
For he was as jet black,
He rode him far, and very far,
But he fell down in a slack. |
| 15 |
The next steed that he rode on,
For he was a berry brown;
He bore him far, and very far,
But at the last fell down. |
| 16 |
The next steed that he rode on,
He was as milk so white;
Fair fall the mare that foaled the foal
Took him to Janet's lyke! |
| 17 |
But boots and spurs, all as he was,
Into the fire he lap,
Took ae kiss of her comely mouth,
While her body gave a crack. |
| 18 |
'O who has been so bold,' he said,
'This bonfire to set on?
Or who has been so bold,' he cried,
'My true-love for to burn?' |
| 19 |
Her father cried, I've been so bold
This bonefire to put on;
Her brother cried, We've been so bold
Her body for to burn. |
| 20 |
'Oh I shall hang for you, Janet,
Your father and your brother;
And I shall burn for you, Janet,
Your sister and your mother. |
| 21 |
'Oh I shall make many bed empty,
And many shed be thin,
And many a wife to be a widow,
And many one want their son. |
| 22 |
'Then I shall take a cloak of cloth,
A staff made of the wand,
And the boy who did your errand run
Shall be heir of my land.' |
