Motherwell's Manuscript, p. 639, from the recitation of an Irish
woman, wife of John French, a porter at the quay of Ayr.
| 1 |
Johnston Hey and Young Caldwell
Were drinking o the wine:
'O will ye marry my sister?
And I will marry thine.' |
| 2 |
'I winna marry your sister,
Altho her locks are broun;
But I'll make her my concubine,
As I ride through the toun.' |
| 3 |
Syne Johnston drew a gude braid sword,
That hang down by his knee,
And he has run the Young Caldwell
Out through the fair bodie. |
| 4 |
Up he gat, and awa he rade,
By the clear light o the moon,
Until he came to his mother's door,
And there he lichtit doun. |
| 5 |
'Whare hae ye been, son Willie,' she said,
'Sae late and far in the night?'
'O I hae been at yon new slate house,
Hearing the clergy speak.' |
| 6 |
'I dreamd a dream, son Willie,' she said,
'I doubt it bodes nae gude;
That your ain room was fu o red swine,
And your bride's bed daubd wi blude.' |
| 7 |
'To dream o blude, mither,' he said,
'It bodeth meikle ill;
And I hae slain a Young Caldwell,
And they're seeking me to kill.' |
| 8 |
'Gin ye hae slain a Young Caldwell,
Alace and wae is me!
But gin your fair body's free frae skaith,
The easier I will be.' |
| 9 |
Up he gat, and awa he rade,
By the clear licht o the mune,
Until he cam to his sister's bower,
And there he lichtit doun. |
| 10 |
'Whare hae ye been, brither,' she said,
'Sae late and far in the night?'
'O I hae been in yon new slate house,
Hearing the clergy speak.' |
| 11 |
'I dreamd a dream, brither,' she said,
'I doubt it bodes nae gude;
I dreamd the ravens eat your flesh,
And the lions drank your blude.' |
| 12 |
'To dream o blude, sister,' he said,
'It bodeth meikle ill;
And I hae slain a Young Caldwell,
And they're seeking me to kill.' |
| 13 |
'Gin ye hae slain a Young Caldwell,
Alace and wae is me!
To be torn at the tail o wild horses
Is the death I weet ye'll die.' |
| 14 |
Up he gat, and awa he rade,
By the clear light o the mune,
Untill he cam to his true-love's bower,
And there he lichtit doun. |
| 15 |
'Whare hae ye been, Love Willie,' she said,
'Sae late and far in the night?'
'O I hae been in yon new sklate house,
Hearing the clergy speak.' |
| 16 |
'I dreamd a dream, Willie,' she said,
'I doubt it bodes nae gude;
I dreamd the ravens ate your flesh,
And the lions drank your blude.' |
| 17 |
'To dream o ravens, love,' he said,
'Is the loss o a near friend;
And I hae killed your brither dear,
And for it I'll be slain.' |
| 18 |
'Gin ye hae slain my ae brither,
Alace and wae is me!
But gin your fair body's free frae skaith,
The easier I will be. |
| 19 |
'Lye doun, lye doun, Love Willie,' she said,
'Lye doun and tak a sleep;
And I will walk the castel wa,
Your fair bodie to keep.' |
| 20 |
He laid him doun within her bowr,
She happit him wi her plaid,
And she's awa to the castle-wa,
To see what would betide. |
| 21 |
She hadna gane the castle round
A time but only three,
Till four and twenty beltit knichts
Cam riding ower the lea. |
| 22 |
And whan they came unto the gate,
They stude and thus did say:
'O did ye see yon bludie knicht,
As he rade out this way?' |
| 23 |
'What colour was his hawk?' she said,
'What colour was his hound?
What colour was the gudely steed
The bludie knicht rade on?' |
| 24 |
'Nut-brown was his hawk,' they said,
'And yellow-fit was his hound,
And milk-white was the goodly steed
The bluidie knicht rade on.' |
| 25 |
'Gin nut-brown was his hawk,' she said,
'And yellow-fit was his hound,
And milk-white was the gudely steed,
He's up to London gone.' |
| 26 |
They spurrd their steeds out ower the lea,
They being void o fear;
Syne up she gat, and awa she gade,
Wi tidings to her dear. |
| 27 |
'Lye still, lye still, Love Willie,' she said,
'Lye still and tak your sleep;'
Syne he took up his good braid sword,
And wounded her fu deep. |
| 28 |
'O wae be to you, Love Willie,' she said,
'And an ill death may ye die!
For first ye slew my ae brither,
And now ye hae killd me.' |
| 29 |
'Oh live, oh live, true-love,' he said,
'Oh live but ae half hour,
And there's not a docter in a' London
But sall be in your bower.' |
| 30 |
'How can I live, Love Willie,' she said,
'For the space of half an hour?
Dinnae ye see my clear heart's blood
A rinnin down the floor? |
| 31 |
'Tak aff, tak aff my holland sark,
And rive't frae gare to gair,
And stap it in my bleeding wounds;
They'll may be bleed nae mair.' |
| 32 |
Syne he took aff her holland sark,
And rave't frae gare to gair,
And stappit it in her bleeding wounds,
But aye they bled the mair. |
| 33 |
'Gae dress yoursell in black,' she said,
'And gae whistling out the way,
And mourn nae mair for your true-love
When she's laid in the clay.' |
| 34 |
He leaned his halbert on the ground,
The point o't to his breast,
Saying, Here three sauls ['s] gaun to heaven;
I hope they'll a' get rest. |
