Motherwell's Manuscript, p. 199,
from Widow Smith, George Street, Paisley.
| 1 |
An ensign and a lady gay,
As they were walking on a green,
The ensign said to the lady gay,
Will you tak me to your bower at een? |
| 2 |
'I have seven bluidy brithers,
Och and to you they have nae good will;
And if they catch you in my bower,
They'll value not your bluid to spill.' |
| 3 |
'O you may take me on your back,
And carry me to your chamber-bed,
That I may swear, and avow richt clear,
That your flowery bower I did never tread. |
| 4 |
'O take a napkin from your pocket,
And with it blindfold my een,
That I may swear, and avow richt clear,
That your flowery bower I have never seen.' |
| 5 |
O she's taen him upon her back,
And carried him to her chamber-bed,
That he might swear, and avow it clear,
That her flowery [bower] he did never tread. |
| 6 |
O she's taen a napkin from her pocket,
And with it blinded baith his een,
That he might swear, and avow it clear,
That her flowery bower he had never seen. |
| 7 |
They were not well into their bed,
Nor were they scarsely fallen asleep,
Till in there came her seven bluidy brithers,
And placed themselves at the ensign's feet. |
| 8 |
Said the first one to the second,
'Och it is long since this love began;'
Said the second unto the third,
'It's a sin to kill a sleeping man.' |
| 9 |
Said the third one to the fourth,
'I will go to yon tavern hie;'
Said [the] fourth one to the fifth,
'O if you will go, so will I.' |
| 10 |
Said the fifth to the sixth,
'Och it's long since this love began;'
Said the sixth to the seventh,
'It's a sin to kill a sleeping man.' |
| 11 |
Out then spoke the seventh bluidy brither,
Aye and an angry man was he:
'Altho there was no more men alive,
The ensign's butcher I will be.' |
| 12 |
He's taen out his rusty broad-sword,
And ran it three times along his throat,
And thro and thro the ensign's body
The tempered steel it went thro and thro. |
| 13 |
'O I have dreamed a dream,' she said,
'And such an dreams cannot be good;
I dreamed my bower was full of swine,
And the ensign's clothes all dipped in blood. |
| 14 |
'I have dreamed another dream,
And such an dreams are never good;
That I was combing down my yellow hair,
And dipping it in the ensign's blood.' |
| 15 |
'O hold your tongue, my sister dear,
And of your weeping let a be;
For I will get you a better match
Than eer the ensign, what was he?' |
| 16 |
'So woe be to you, my seven bluidy brithers,
Aye and an ill death may you die!
For you durst not fight him in battle-field,
But you killed him sleeping in bed wi me. |
| 17 |
'I'll do more for my love's sake
That other lovers would not incline;
Seven years shall come and go
Before I wash this face of mine. |
| 18 |
'I will do for my love's sake
What other lovers would not repair;
Seven years shall come and go
Before I comb down my yellow hair. |
| 19 |
'I'll do more for my love's sake,
What other lovers will not do;
Seven years shall come and go
Before I cast off stocking and shoe. |
| 20 |
'I will do for my love's sake
What other lovers they will be slack;
Seven years shall come and go
Before I cast off my robes of black. |
| 21 |
'Go make to me a high, high tower,
Be sure you make it stout and strong,
And on the top put an honour's gate,
That my love's ghost may go out and in.' |
