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The English and Scottish Popular Ballads

Edited by Francis James Child.

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68

The Egyptian Laddy

THE GYPSY LADDIE—D

[_]

Kinloch MSS, V, 331, in the handwriting of John Hill Burton; from a reciter who came from the vicinity of Craigievar.

1

There came Gyptians to Corse Field yeats,
Black, tho they warna bonny;
They danced so neat and they danced so fine,
Till down came the bonny lady.

2

She came trippin down the stair,
And her nine maidens afore her;
But up and starts him Johny Fa,
And he cast the glamour oer her.

3

‘Ye'll take frae me this gay mantle,
And ye'll gie to me a plaidie;
For I shall follow Johny Fa,
Lat weel or woe betide me.’

4

They've taen frae her her fine mantle,
And they've gaen to her a plaidie,
And she's awa wi Johny Fa,
Whatever may betide her.

5

When they came to a wan water,
I wite it wasna bonny,
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]

6

‘Yestreen I wade this wan water,
And my good lord was wi me;
The night I man cast aff my shoes and wide,
And the black bands widen wi me.

7

‘Yestreen I lay in a well made bed,
And my good lord lay wi me;
The night I maun ly in a tenant's barn,
And the black bands lyin wi me.’

8

‘Come to yer bed,’ says Johnie Fa,
‘Come to yer bed, my dearie,
And I shall swer, by the coat that I wear,
That my hand it shall never go near thee.’

9

‘I will never come to yer bed,
I will never be yer dearie;
For I think I hear his horse's foot
That was once called my dearie.’

10

‘Come to yer bed,’ says Johny Fa,
‘Come to yer bed, my dearie,
And I shall swear, by the coat that I wear,
That my hand it shall never go oer thee.’

11

‘I will niver come to yer bed,
I will niver be yer dearie;
For I think I hear his bridle ring
That was once called my dearie.’
[OMITTED]

12

When that good lord came hame at night,
He called for his lady;
The one maid said, and the other replied,
‘She's aff wi the Gyptian laddy.’

13

‘Ye'll saddle to me the good black steed,
Tho the brown it was never so bonny;
Before that ever I eat or drink,
I shall have back my lady.’
[OMITTED]

14

‘Yestreen we were fifteen good armed men;
Tho black, we werena bonny;
The night we a'ly slain for one,
It's the Laird o Corse Field's lady.’