Motherwell's Manuscript, p. 230: from the recitation of Mrs. Bell,
of Paisley, and of Miss Montgomerie, of Edinburgh, her sister.
| 1 |
Out then spoke the king of Scotland,
And he spak wondrous clear:
Where will I get a boy, and a pretty little boy,
That will my tidings bear? |
| 2 |
Out then spak a pretty little bird,
As it sat on a brier:
What will ye gie me, king of Scotland, he said,
If I your tidings will bear? |
| 3 |
'One wing of the beaten gowd,
And another of the silver clear;
It's all unto thee, my pretty little bird,
If thou my tidings will bear.' |
| 4 |
The bird flew high, the bird flew low,
This bird flew to and fro,
Until that he came to the king of England's dochter,
Who was sitting in her bower-window. |
| 5 |
'Here is a gift, a very rare gift,
And the king has sent you three;
He says if your father and mother winna let,
You may come privately. |
| 6 |
'Here is a gift, and a very rare gift,
The king has sent you five;
He says he will not wait any longer on you,
If there be another woman alive.' |
| 7 |
She's away to her mother dear,
Made a low beck on her knee:
'What is your asking of me, daughter?
Queen of Scotland you never shall be.' |
| 8 |
'That's not my asking of thee, mother,
That's not my asking of thee;
But that if I die in merry England,
In Scotland you will bury me.' |
| 9 |
She's awa to her father dear,
Made a low beck on her knee:
'What is your asking of me, daughter?
Queen of Scotland you never shall be.' |
| 10 |
'That's not my asking of thee, father,
That's not my asking of thee;
But that if I die in merry England,
In Scotland you will bury me.' |
| 11 |
She walked to and fro,
She walked up and down,
But ye wud na spoken three words to an end
Till she was in a deep swoon. |
| 12 |
Out then spoke an auld witch-wife,
And she spoke random indeed:
Honoured madam, I would have you to try
Three drops of the burning lead. |
| 13 |
Her mother went weeping round and round,
She dropped one on her chin;
'Och and alace,' her mother did say,
'There is no breath within!' |
| 14 |
Her mother went weeping round and round,
She dropt one on her briest;
'Och and alace,' her mother did cry,
'For she's died without a priest!' |
| 15 |
Her mother went weeping round and round,
She dropped one on her toe;
'Och and alace,' her mother did cry,
'To Scotland she must goe! |
| 16 |
'Call down, call down her sisters five,
To make to her a smock;
The one side of the bonny beaten gold,
And the other of the needle-work. |
| 17 |
'Call down, call down her brothers seven,
To make for her a bier;
The one side of the bonny beaten gold,
And the other of the silver clear.' |
| 18 |
Many a mile by land they went,
And many a league by sea,
Until that they came to the king of Scotland,
Who was walking in his own valley. |
| 19 |
'Here is a gift, and a very rare gift,
And you to have made her your own;
But now she is dead, and she's new come from her steed,
And she's ready to lay in the ground.' |
| 20 |
O he has opened the lid of the coffin,
And likewise the winding sheet,
And thrice he has kissed her cherry, cherry cheek,
And she smiled on him full sweet. |
| 21 |
'One bit of your bread,' she says,
'And one glass of your wine;
It's all for you and your sake
I've fasted long days nine. |
| 22 |
'One glass of your wine,' she says,
'And one bit of your bread;
For it's all for you and for your sake
I suffered the burning lead. |
| 23 |
'Go home, go home, my brothers seven,
You may go blow your horn;
And you may tell it in merry England
That your sister has given you the scorn. |
| 24 |
'Go home, go home, my brothers seven,
Tell my sisters to sew their seam;
And you may tell it in merry England
That your sister she is queen.' |
