Ed de Moel

Child Ballads - Lyrics

The Jolly Beggar

Appendix

The Gaberlunyie-Man

Printed in the first volume of Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany, 1724, from which it was repeated in Thomson's Orpheus Caledonius, 1725, fol. 43, and Old Ballads, III, 259, the same year; in the Dublin reprint of the Miscellany, 1729, I, 96, the "fifth edition," London, 1730, and the ninth edition, London, 1733, I. 84. The first edition, 1724, being of extreme rarity, if anywhere now to be found, the piece is given here from Old Ballads, which agrees with Orpheus Caledonius except as to the spelling of a single word.

The Gaberlunyie-Man is one of the pieces which were subjected to revision in the Miscellany; "such old verses as have been done time out of mind, and only wanted to be cleared from the dross of blundering transcribers and printers, such as 'The Gaberlunzie-man,' 'Muirland Willy,'" etc. (Ramsay's preface.)

In recited copies, as the "Old Lady's Collection," No 13 (Skene Manuscript, p. 65), and Motherwell's Manuscript, p. 31, the girl is made to come back again to see her mother (or the gaberlunyie-man brings her) 'wi a bairn in her arms and ane in her wame;' but for all that a fine lady, 'wi men- and maid-servants at her command.'

Translated by Herder, II, 264; Bodmer, I, 68; Fiedler, p. 23; Loève-Veimars, p. 356.

1   The pauky auld carle came oer the lee,
Wi many good eens and days to me,
Saying, Goodwife, for your courtesie,
Will ye lodge a silly poor man?
The night was cauld, the carle was wat,
And down ayont the ingle he sat;
My daughter's shoulders he gan to clap,
And cadgily ranted and sang.
2   'O wow!' quo he, 'were I as free
As first when I saw this country,
How blyth and merry wad I be!
And I wad never think lang.'
He grew canty, and she grew fain,
But little did her auld minny ken
What thir slee twa togither were sayn,
When wooing they were sa[e] thrang.
3   'And O!' quo he, 'ann ye were as black,
As eer the crown of your dady's hat,
'T is I wad lay thee by my back,
And awa wi me thou shoud gang.'
'And O!' quoth she, 'ann I were as white
As eer the snaw lay on the dike,
I 'd dead me braw, and lady-like,
And awa with thee I'd gang.'
4   Between the twa was made a plot;
They raise a wee before the cock,
And wyliely they shot the lock,
And fast to the bent are they gane.
Up the morn the auld wife raise,
And at her leasure pat on her claiths;
Syne to the servants bed she gaes,
To speer for the silly poor man.
5   She gaed to the bed where the beggar lay,
The strae was cauld, he was away;
She clapt her hands, cry'd, Waladay!
For some of our gear will be gane.
Some ran to coffers, and some to kists,
But nought was stown that coud be mist;
She danc'd her lane, cry'd, Praise be blest,
I have lodg'd a leal poor man!
6   'Since nathing's awa, as we can learn,
The kirn's to kirn and milk to earn;
Gae butt the house, lass, and waken my bairn,
And bid her come quickly ben.'
The servant gade where the daughter lay,
The sheets was cauld, she was away;
And fast to her goodwife can say,
She's aff with the gaberlunyie-man.
7   'O fy, gar ride, and fy, gar rin,
And hast ye find these traitors again;
For she's be burnt, and he's be slain,
The wearifu gaberlunyie-man.'
Some rade upo horse, some ran a-fit,
The wife was wood and out o'er wit;
She coud na gang, nor yet coud she sit,
But ay she cursd and she band.
8   Mean time far hind outoer the lee,
Fou snug in a glen, where nane coud see,
The twa, with kindly sport and glee,
Cut frae a new cheese a whang.
The priving was good, it pleasd them baith,
To loe her for ay he gae her his aith;
Quo she, To leave thee, I will be laith,
My winsome gaberlunyie-man.
9   'O kend my minny I were wi you,
Illfardly wad she crook her mou;
Sic a poor man she 'd never trow,
After the gaberlunyie-man.'
'My dear,' quo he, 'ye'r yet oer young,
And ha na learnd the beggar's tongue,
To follow me frae town to town,
And carry the gaberlunyie on.
10   'Wi kauk and keel, I'll win your bread,
And spindles and whorles for them wha need,
Whilk is a gentil trade indeed,
To carry the gaberlunyie, O.
I'll bow my leg, and crook my knee,
And draw a black clout oer my eye;
A criple or blind they will ca me,
While we shall be merry and sing.'
   32. my dady's, Dublin, 1729, London, 1730, 1733.

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