Kinloch Manuscripts, I, 287.
| 1 |
There were four and twenty gentlemen
A playing at the ba,
And lusty Lady Livingstone
Cuist her ee out oure them a'. |
| 2 |
She cuist her ee on Lord Barnard,
He was baith black and broun;
She cuist her ee on Little Musgrave,
As bricht as the morning sun. |
| 3 |
. . . . . .
. . . . .
'What'll I gie ye, my Little Musgrave,
Ae nicht wi me to sleep?' |
| 4 |
'Ae nicht wi you to sleep,' he says,
'O that wad breed meikle strife;
For the ring on your white finger
Shows you Lord Barnard's wife.' |
| 5 |
'O Lord Barnard he is gane frae hame,
He'll na return the day;
He has tane wi him a purse o goud,
For he's gane hind away.' |
| 6 |
Up startit then the wylie foot-page,
. . . . .
'What will ye gie to me,' he said,
'Your council for to keep?' |
| 7 |
'O goud sall be my little boy's fee,
And silver sall be his hire;
But an I hear a word mair o this,
He sall burn in charcoal fire.' |
| 8 |
But the wylie foot-page to the stable went,
Took out a milk-white steed,
And away, away, and away he rade,
Away wi meikle speed. |
| 9 |
It's whan he cam to the water-side,
He smoothd his breist and swam,
And whan he cam to gerss growing,
He set down his feet and ran. |
| 10 |
'Whan he cam to Lord Barnard's towr
Lord Barnard was at meat;
He said, 'If ye kend as meikle as me,
It's little wad ye eat.' |
| 11 |
'Are onie o my castles brunt?' he says,
'Or onie my towrs won?
Or is my gay ladie broucht to bed,
Of a dochter or a son?' |
| 12 |
'There is nane o your castles brunt,
Nor nane o your towrs won;
Nor is your gay ladie broucht to bed,
Of a dochter or a son. |
| 13 |
'But Little Musgrave, that gay young man,
Is in bed wi your ladie,
. . . . .
. . . . . |
| 14 |
'If this be true ye tell to me,
It's goud sall be your fee;
But if it be fause ye tell to me,
I'se hang ye on a tree.'
* * * * * |
| 15 |
Whan they cam to yon water-side,
They smoothd their breists and swam;
And whan they cam to gerss growing,
They sat doun their feet and ran.
* * * * * |
| 16 |
'How do ye like my sheets?' he said,
'How do ye like my bed?
And how do ye like my gay ladie,
Wha's lying at your side?' |
| 17 |
'O I do like your sheets,' he said,
'Sae do I like your bed;
But mair do I like your gay ladie,
Wha's lying at my side.' |
| 18 |
'Get up, get up, young man,' he said,
'Get up as swith's ye can;
Let it never be said that Lord Barnard
Slew in bed a nakit man.'
* * * * * |
| 19 |
'How do ye like his bluidy cheeks?
Or how do ye like me?'
'It's weill do I like his bluidy cheeks,
Mair than your haill bodie.' |
| 20 |
Then she has kissd his bluidy cheeks,
It's oure and oure again,'
. . . . . .
. . . . . |
