P. 242 ff. F, which Jamieson says he received from
Scotland, happens to have been preserved at Abbotsford. Since
Jamieson made a considerable number of small changes, the
original text is now given here.
"Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy," No 133 c,
Abbotsford; in the handwriting of James Hogg.
| 1 |
'I have a towr in Dalesberry,
Whilk now is dearly dight,
And I will gie it to young Musgrave,
To lodge wi me a night.' |
| 2 |
'To lodge wi thee a night, fair lady,
Wad breed baith sorrow and strife;
For I see by the rings on your fingers
Ye're good Lord Barnaby's wife.' |
| 3 |
'Lord Barnaby's wife although I be,
Yet what is that to thee?
For we'l beguile him for this ae night;
He's on to fair Dundee. |
| 4 |
'Come here, come here, my little foot-page,
This guinea I will give thee,
If ye will keep thir secrets closs
Tween young Musgrave an me. |
| 5 |
'But here hae I a little pen-knife,
Hings low down by my gare;
If ye dinna keep thir secrets closs,
Ye'l find it wonder sair.' |
| 6 |
Then she's taen him to her chamber,
An down in her arms lay he;
The boy koost off his hose an shoon
An ran for fair Dundee. |
| 7 |
When he came to the wan water,
He slackd his bow an swam,
An when he wan to growan gress
Set down his feet an ran. |
| 8 |
And whan he came to fair Dundee,
Could nouther rap nor ca,
But set his braid bow to his breast
An merrily jumpd the wa. |
| 9 |
O waken ye, waken ye, my good lord,
Waken, an come away!'
'What ails, what ails my wee foot-page
He cry's sae lang or day? |
| 10 |
'O is my towers burnt, my boy?
Or is my castle won?
Or has the lady that I loe best
Brought me a daughter or son?' |
| 11 |
'Your halls are safe, your towers are safe
An free frae all alarms;
But oh, the lady that ye loe best
Lyes sound i Musgrave' s arms.' |
| 12 |
'Gae saddle me the black,' he cry'd,
'Gae saddle me the gray;
Gae saddle me the milk-white steed,
To hie me out the way.' |
| 13 |
'O lady, I heard a wee horn tout,
An it blew wonder clear,
An ay the turnin o the note
Was, Barnaby will be here! |
| 14 |
I thought I heard a wee horn blaw,
An it blew loud an hie,
An ay at ilka turn it said,
Away, Musgrave, away!' |
| 15 |
'Lye still, my dear, lye still, my dear,
Ye keep me frae the cold!
For it is but my father's shepherds,
Drivin there flocks to the fold.' |
| 16 |
Up they lookit, an down they lay,
An they 're fa'n sound asleep;
Till up start good Lord Barnaby,
Just closs at their bed-feet. |
| 17 |
How do ye like my bed, Musgrave?
An how like ye my sheets?
An how like ye my fair lady,
Lyes in your arms an sleeps?' |
| 18 |
Weel I like your bed, my lord,
An weel I like your sheets;
But ill like I your fair lady,
Lyes in my arms an sleeps. |
| 19 |
'You got your wale o se'en sisters,
An I got mine o five;
So take ye mine, an I's take thine,
An we nae mair shall strive.' |
| 20 |
'O my woman's the best woman
That ever brake world's bread,
But your woman's the worst woman
That ever drew coat oer head. |
| 21 |
'I have two swords in my scabbart,
They are baith sharp an clear;
Take ye the best, and I the worst,
An we'l end the matter here. |
| 22 |
'But up an arm thee, young Musgrave,
We'l try it hand to hand;
It's neer be said o Lord Barnaby
He struck at a naked man.' |
| 23 |
The first stroke that young Musgrave got,
It was baith deep an sair,
An down he fell at Barnaby's feet,
An word spak never mair. |
| 24 |
'A grave! a grave!' Lord Barnaby cry'd,
'A grave to lay them in!
My lady shall lye on the sunny side,
Because of her noble kin.' |
| 25 |
But O how sorry was that good lord,
For a' his angry mood,
When he espy'd his ain young son
All weltering in his blood! |
The following copy was kindly communicated to me by Mr. David
MacRitchie, Honorary Secretary of the Gypsy Lore Society, in
advance of its publication in the Journal of the society. While
it preserves the framework of the story, it differs very
considerably in details from all the printed copies. It is
evidently of the same origin as some of the Scottish versions
(all of which seem to derive from print), though it has no marked
resemblance to the actual form of any particular one of these.
Some peculiarities are plausibly attributable to dim or imperfect
recollection. Thus, the ball-play of D, E, etc., is
turned into a ball. Lord Barnard is made a king, and the page the
king's brother (neither of which -changes is an improvement). We
may observe that in J Lord Barnabas is at the king's
court, and in I Sir Grove is Lord Bengwill's brother; but
these points are not decisive, and the changes may be purely
arbitrary. 4 shows traces of E 5 and F 3; 8 may
have been suggested by something like G 4; and the last
line of 14 looks like a corruption of G 29. This involves
the supposition that the source of the ballad was a version
somewhat different from any hitherto recovered; but 'Little
Musgrave' is one of the best known of all ballads, and the
variants must have been innumerable. On the whole, 1-8, 14,
present a free treatment of ill-remembered matter; 9-13 are
fairly well preserved; compare E 13-17.
'Moss Groves,' taken down in 1891 by Mr. John Sampson,
Liverpool, from Philip Murray, an old tinker, who learned the
ballad in his boyhood from an old gypsy named Amos Rice.
| 1 |
There was four-and-twenty ladies
Assembled at a ball,
And who being there but the king's wife,
The fairest of them all. |
| 2 |
She put her eye on the Moss Groves,
Moss Groves put his eye upon she:
'How would you like, my little Moss Groves,
One night to tarry with me?' |
| 3 |
'To sleep one night with you, fair lady,
It would cause a wonderful sight;
For I know by the ring upon your hand
You are the king's wife.' |
| 4 |
'If I am the king's wife,
I mean him to beguile;
For he has gone on a long distance,
And won't be back for a while.' |
| 5 |
Up spoke his brother,
An angry man was he;
'Another night I'll not stop in the castle
Till my brother I'll go see.' |
| 6 |
When he come to his brother,
He was in a hell of a fright:
'Get up, get up, brother dear!
There's a man in bed with your wife.' |
| 7 |
'If it's true you tell unto me,
A man I'll make of thee;
If it's a lie you tell unto me,
It's slain thou shalt be.' |
| 8 |
When he came to his hall,
The bells begun to ring,
And all the birds upon the bush
They begun to sing. |
| 9 |
'How do you like my covering-cloths?
And how do you like my sheets?
How do you like my lady fair,
All night in her arms to sleep?' |
| 10 |
'Your covering-cloths I like right well,
Far better than your sheets;
Far better than all your lady fair,
All night in her arms to sleep.' |
| 11 |
'Get up, get up now, little Moss Grovee,
Your clothing do put on;
It shall never be said in all England
That I drew on a naked man. |
| 12 |
'There is two swords all in the castle
That cost me very dear;
You take the best, and I the worst,
And let 'a decide it here.' |
| 13 |
The very first blow Moss Groves he gave,
He wounded the king most sore;
The very first blow the king gave him,
Moss Groves Le struck no more. |
| 14 |
She lifted up his dying head
And kissed his cheek and chin:
'I'd sooner have you now, little Moss Groves,
Than all their castles or kings.' |
259 a. Insert under C: d. Printed and sold in
Aldermary Church-yard, Bow Lane, London.
