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 | The English and Scottish Popular Ballads |  |
151
12
LORD RANDAL
157
LORD RANDAL—A
[_]
From a small manuscript volume lent me by Mr William Macmath, of Edinburgh, containing four pieces written in or about 1710, and this ballad in a later hand. Charles Mackie, August, 1808, is scratched upon the binding.
1
‘O where ha you been, Lord Randal, my son?And where ha you been, my handsome young man?’
‘I ha been at the greenwood; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm wearied wi hunting, and fain wad lie down.’
2
‘An wha met ye there, Lord Randal, my son?An wha met you there, my handsome young man?’
158
For I'm wearied wi huntin, an fain wad lie down.’
3
‘And what did she give you, Lord Randal, my son?And what did she give you, my handsome young man?’
‘Eels fried in a pan; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm wearied wi huntin, and fain wad lie down.’
4
‘And wha gat your leavins, Lord Randal, my son?And wha gat your leavins, my handsom young man?’
‘My hawks and my hounds; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm wearied wi hunting, and fain wad lie down.’
5
‘And what becam of them, Lord Randal, my son?And what becam of them, my handsome young man?’
‘They stretched their legs out an died; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm wearied wi huntin, and fain wad lie down.’
6
‘O I fear you are poisoned, Lord Randal, my son!I fear you are poisoned, my handsome young man!’
‘O yes, I am poisoned; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie down.’
7
‘What d'ye leave to your mother, Lord Randal, my son?What d'ye leave to your mother, my handsome young man?’
‘Four and twenty milk kye; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie down.’
8
‘What d'ye leave to your sister, Lord Randal, my son?What d'ye leave to your sister, my handsome young man?’
‘My gold and my silver; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm sick at the heart, an I fain wad lie down.’
9
‘What d'ye leave to your brother, Lord Randal, my son?What d'ye leave to your brother, my handsome young man?’
‘My houses and my lands; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie down.’
10
‘What d'ye leave to your true-love, Lord Randal, my son?What d'ye leave to your true-love, my handsome young man?’
‘I leave her hell and fire; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie down.’
Lord Donald
LORD RANDAL—B
1
‘O whare hae ye been a' day, Lord Donald, my son?O whare hae ye been a' day, my jollie young man?’
‘I've been awa courtin; mither, mak my bed sune,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun.’
2
‘What wad ye hae for your supper, Lord Donald, my son?What wad ye hae for your supper, my jollie young man?’
159
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun.’
3
‘What did ye get for your supper, Lord Donald, my son?What did ye get for your supper, my jollie young man?’
‘A dish of sma fishes; mither mak my bed sune,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun.’
4
‘Whare gat ye the fishes, Lord Donald, my son?Whare gat ye the fishes, my jollie young man?’
‘In my father's black ditches; mither, mak my bed sune,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun.’
5
‘What like were your fishes, Lord Donald, my son?What like were your fishes, my jollie young man?’
‘Black backs and spreckld bellies; mither, mak my bed sune,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun.’
6
‘O I fear ye are poisond, Lord Donald, my son!O I fear ye are poisond, my jollie young man!’
‘O yes! I am poisond; mither mak my bed sune,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun.’
7
‘What will ye leave to your father, Lord Donald my son?What will ye leave to your father, my jollie young man?’
‘Baith my houses and land; mither, mak my bed sune,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun.’
8
‘What will ye leave to your brither, Lord Donald, my son?What will ye leave to your brither, my jollie young man?’
‘My horse and the saddle; mither, mak my bed sune,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun.’
9
‘What will ye leave to your sister, Lord Donald, my son?What will ye leave to your sister, my jollie young man?’
‘Baith my gold box and rings; mither, mak my bed sune,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun.’
10
‘What will ye leave to your true-love, Lord Donald, my son?What will ye leave to your true-love, my jollie young man?’
‘The tow and the halter, for to hang on yon tree,
And lat her hang there for the poysoning o me.’
LORD RANDAL—C
[_]
Motherwell's MS., p. 69. From the recitation of Margaret Bain, in the parish of Blackford, Perthshire.
1
‘What's become of your hounds, King Henrie, my son?What's become of your hounds, my pretty little one?’
‘They all died on the way; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to the heart, and I fain wald lie down.’
2
‘What gat ye to your supper, King Henry, my son?What gat ye to your supper, my pretty little one?’
160
For I'm sick to the heart, and I fain wald lie down.’
3
‘What like were the fish, King Henry, my son?What like were the fish, my pretty little one?’
‘They were spreckled on the back and white on the belly; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to the heart, and I fain wald lie down.’
4
‘What leave ye to your father, King Henry, my son?What leave ye to your father, my pretty little one?’
‘The keys of Old Ireland, and all that's therein; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to the heart, and I fain wald lie down.’
5
‘What leave ye to your brother, King Henry, my son?What leave ye to your brother, my pretty little one?’
‘The keys of my coffers and all that's therein; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm sick to the heart, and I fain wald lie down.’
6
‘What leave ye to your sister, King Henry, my son?What leave ye to your sister, my pretty little one?’
‘The world's wide, she may go beg; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm sick to the heart, and I fain wald lie down.’
7
‘What leave ye to your trew-love, King Henry, my son?What leave ye to your trew-love, my pretty little one?’
‘The highest hill to hang her on, for she's poisoned me and my hounds all; mother, make my bed soon,
Oh I'm sick to the heart, and I fain wald lie down.’
LORD RANDAL—D
1
‘O where hae ye been, Lord Randal, my son?O where hae ye been, my handsome young man?’
‘I hae been to the wild wood; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi hunting, and fain wald lie down.’
2
‘Where gat ye your dinner, Lord Randal, my son?Where gat ye your dinner, my handsome young man?’
‘I din'd wi my true-love; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi hunting, and fain wald lie down.’
3
‘What gat ye to your dinner, Lord Randal, my son?What gat ye to your dinner, my handsome young man?’
‘I gat eels boild in broo; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi hunting, and fain wald lie down.’
4
‘What became of your bloodhounds, Lord Randal, my son?What became of your bloodhounds, my handsome young man?’
‘O they swelld and they died; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi hunting, and fain wald lie down.’
5
‘O I fear ye are poisond, Lord Randal, my son!O I fear ye are poisond, my handsome young man!’
‘O yes! I am poisond; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wald lie down.’
161
LORD RANDAL—E
[_]
Halliwell's Popular Rhymes and Nursery Tales, p. 261. “A version still popular in Scotland,” 1849.
1
‘Ah where have you been, Lairde Rowlande, my son?Ah where have you been, Lairde Rowlande, my son?’
‘I've been in the wild woods; mither, mak my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi hunting, and faine would lie down.’
2
‘Oh you've been at your true love's, Lairde Rowlande, my son!Oh you've been at your true-love's, Lairde Rowlande, my son!’
‘I've been at my true-love's; mither, mak my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi hunting, and faine would lie down.’
3
‘What got you to dinner, Lairde Rowlande, my son?What got you to dinner, Lairde Rowlande, my son?’
‘I got eels boild in brue; mither, mak my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi hunting, and faine would lie down.’
4
‘What's become of your warden, Lairde Rowlande, my son?What's become of your warden, Lairde Rowlande, my son?’
‘He died in the muirlands; mither, mak my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi hunting, and faine would lie down.’
5
‘What's become of your stag-hounds, Lairde Rowlande, my son?What's become of your stag-hounds, Lairde Rowlande, my son?’
‘They swelled and they died; mither, mak my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi hunting, and faine would lie down.’
Lord Ronald, My Son
LORD RANDAL—F
1
‘O where hae ye been, Lord Ronald, my son?O where hae ye been, Lord Ronald, my son?’
‘I hae been wi my sweetheart; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi the hunting, and fain wad lie down.’
2
‘What got ye frae your sweetheart, Lord Ronald, my son?What got ye frae your sweetheart, Lord Ronald, my son?’
‘I hae got deadly poison; mother, make my bed soon,
For life is a burden that soon I'll lay down.’
LORD RANDAL—G
[_]
Illustrations of Northern Antiquities, p. 319. Originally from a clergyman's daughter, in Suffolk.
1
‘Where have you been today, Billy, my son?Where have you been today, my only man?’
‘I've been a wooing; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick at heart, and fain would lay down.’
2
‘What have you ate today, Billy, my son?What have you ate today, my only man?’
‘I've ate eel-pie; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick at heart, and shall die before noon.’
162
LORD RANDAL—H
[_]
Taken down by me, February, 1881, from the recitation of Ellen Healy, as repeated to her by a young girl at “Lackabairn,” Kerry, Ireland, about 1868.
1
‘Where was you all day, my own pretty boy?Where was you all day, my comfort and joy?’
‘I was fishing and fowling; mother, make my bed soon,
There's a pain in my heart, and I mean to lie down.’
2
‘What did you have for your breakfast, my own pretty boy?What did you have for your breakfast, my comfort and joy?’
‘A cup of strong poison; mother, make my bed soon,
There's a pain in my heart, and I mean to lie down.’
3
‘I fear you are poisoned, my own pretty boy,I fear you are poisoned, my comfort and joy!’
‘O yes, I am poisoned; mother, make my bed soon,
There's a pain in my heart, and I mean to lie down.’
4
‘What will you leave to your father, my own pretty boy?What will you leave to your father, my comfort and joy?’
‘I'll leave him my house and my property; mother, make my bed soon,
There's a pain in my heart, and I mean to lie down.’
5
‘What will you leave to your mother, my own pretty boy?What will you leave to your mother, my comfort and joy?’
‘I'll leave her my coach and four horses; mother, make my bed soon,
There's a pain in my heart, and I mean to lie down.’
6
‘What will you leave to your brother, my own pretty boy?What will you leave to your brother, my comfort and joy?’
‘I'll leave him my bow and my fiddle; mother, make my bed soon,
There's a pain in my heart, and I mean to lie down.’
7
‘What will you leave to your sister, my own pretty boy?What will you leave to your sister, my comfort and joy?’
‘I'll leave her my gold and my silver; mother, make my bed soon,
There's a pain in my heart, and I mean to lie down.’
8
‘What will you leave to your servant, my own pretty boy?What will you leave to your servant, my comfort and joy?’
‘I'll leave him the key of my small silver box; mother, make my bed soon,
There's a pain in my heart, and I mean to lie down.’
9
‘What will you leave to your children, my own pretty boy?What will you leave to your children, my comfort and joy?’
‘The world is wide all round for to beg; mother, make my bed soon,
There's a pain in my heart, and I mean to lie down.’
10
‘What will you leave to your wife, my own pretty boy?What will you leave to your wife, my comfort and joy?’
‘I'll leave her the gallows, and plenty to hang her; mother, make my bed soon,
There's a pain in my heart, and I mean to lie down.’
11
‘Where shall I make it, my own pretty boy?Where shall I make it, my comfort and joy?’
‘Above in the churchyard, and dig it down deep,
Put a stone to my head and a flag to my feet,
And leave me down easy until I'll take a long sleep.’
163
Tiranti, My Son
LORD RANDAL—I
[_]
a. Communicated by Mrs L. F. Wesselhoeft, of Boston, as sung to her when a child by her grandmother, Elizabeth Foster, born in Maine, who appears to have learned the ballad of her mother about 1800. b. By a daughter of Elizabeth Foster, as learned about 1820. c. By Miss Ellen Marston, of New Bedford, as learned from her mother, born 1778. d. By Mrs Cushing, of Cambridge, Mass., as learned in 1838 from a schoolmate, who is thought to have derived it from an old nurse. e. By Mrs Augustus Lowell, of Boston. f. By Mrs Edward Atkinson, of Boston, learned of Mrs A. Lowell, in girlhood. g. By Mrs A. Lowell, as derived from a friend.
1
‘O where have you been, Tiranti, my son?O where have you been, my sweet little one?’
‘I have been to my grandmother's; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to my heart, and I'm faint to lie down.’
2
‘What did you have for your supper, Tiranti, my son?What did you have for your supper, my sweet little one?’
‘I had eels fried in butter; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to my heart, and I'm faint to lie down.’
3
‘Where did the eels come from, Tiranti, my son?Where did the eels come from, my sweet little one?’
‘From the corner of the haystack; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to my heart, and I'm faint to lie down.’
4
‘What color were the eels, Tiranti, my son?What color were the eels, my sweet little one?’
‘They were streakëd and stripëd; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to my heart, and I'm faint to lie down.’
5
‘What'll you give to your father, Tiranti, my son?What'll you give to your father, my sweet little one?’
‘All my gold and my silver; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to my heart, and I'm faint to lie down.’
6
‘What'll you give to your mother, Tiranti, my son?What'll you give to your mother, my sweet little one?’
‘A coach and six horses; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to my heart, and I'm faint to lie down.’
7
‘What'll you give to your grandmother, Tiranti, my son?What'll you give to your grandmother, my sweet little one?’
‘A halter to hang her; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to my heart, and I'm faint to lie down.’
8
‘Where'll you have your bed made, Tiranti, my son?Where'll you have your bed made, my sweet little one?’
‘In the corner of the churchyard; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to my heart, and I'm faint to lie down.’
The Bonnie Wee Croodlin Dow
LORD RANDAL—J
1
‘O whare hae ye been a' day, my bonnie wee croodlin dow?O whare hae ye been a' day, my bonnie wee croodlin dow?’
‘I've been at my step-mother's; oh mak my bed, mammie, now!
I've been at my step-mother's; oh mak my bed, mammie, now!’
2
‘O what did ye get at your step-mother's, my bonnie wee croodlin dow?’‘I gat a wee wee fishie; oh mak my bed. mammie, now!’
164
3
‘O whare gat she the wee fishie, my bonnie wee croodlin dow?’‘In a dub before the door; oh mak my bed, mammie, now!’
4
‘What did ye wi the wee fishie, my bonnie wee croodlin dow?’‘I boild it in a wee pannie; oh mak my bed, mammy, now!’
5
‘Wha gied ye the banes o the fishie till, my bonnie wee croodlin dow?’‘I gied them till a wee doggie; oh mak my bed, mammie, now!’
6
‘O whare is the little wee doggie, my bonnie wee croodlin dow?O whare is the little wee doggie, my bonnie wee croodlin doo?’
‘It shot out its fit and died, and sae maun I do too;
Oh mak my bed, mammy, now, now, oh mak my bed, mammy, now!’
The Croodlin Doo; or, The Wee Croodlen Doo
LORD RANDAL—K
[_]
a. Chambers' Scottish Ballads, p. 324. b. Chambers' Popular Rhymes of Scotland, 1842, p. 53. c. The Stenhouse-Laing ed. of Johnson's Museum, iv, 364, communicated by Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe.
1
‘O whaur hae ye been a' the day, my little wee croodlin doo?’‘O I've been at my grandmother's; mak my bed, mammie, now!’
2
‘O what gat ye at your grandmother's, my little wee croodlin doo?’‘I got a bonnie wee fishie; mak my bed, mammie, now!’
3
‘O whaur did she catch the fishie, my bonnie wee croodlin doo?’‘She catchd it in the gutter hole; mak my bed, mammie, now!’
4
‘And what did she do wi the fish, my little wee croodlin doo?’‘She boiled it in a brass pan; O mak my bed, mammie, now!’
5
‘And what did ye do wi the banes o't, my bonnie wee croodlin doo?’‘I gied them to my little dog; mak my bed, mammie, now!’
6
‘And what did your little doggie do, my bonnie wee croodlin doo?’‘He stretched out his head, his feet, and deed; and so will I, mammie, now!’
Willie Doo
LORD RANDAL—L
1
‘Whar hae ye been a' the day, Willie doo, Willie doo?Whar hae ye been a' the day, Willie, my doo?’
2
‘I've been to see my step-mother; make my bed, lay me down;Make my bed, lay me down, die shall I now!’
3
‘What got ye frae your step-mother, Willie doo, Willie doo?What got ye frae your step-mother, Willie, my doo?’
4
‘She gae me a speckled trout; make my bed, lay me down;She gae me a speckled trout, die shall I now!’
5
‘Whar got she the speckled trout, Willie doo, Willie doo?’‘She got it amang the heather hills; die shall I now.’
6
‘What did she boil it in, Willie doo, Willie doo?’‘She boild it in the billy-pot; die shall I now!’
7
‘What gaed she you for to drink, Willie doo, Willie doo?What gaed she you for to drink, Willie, my doo?’
165
8
‘She gaed me hemlock stocks; make my bed, lay me down;Made in the brewing pot; die shall I now!’
9
They made his bed, laid him down, poor Willie doo, Willie doo;He turnd his face to the wa; he's dead now!
The Croodin Doo
LORD RANDAL—M
1
‘Where hae ye been a' the day, my bonny wee croodin doo?’‘O I hae been at my stepmother's house; make my bed, mammie, now, now, now,
Make my bed, mammie, now!’
2
‘Where did ye get your dinner?’ my, etc.‘I got it at my stepmother's;’ make, etc.
3
‘What did she gie ye to your dinner?’‘She gae me a little four-footed fish.’
4
‘Where got she the four-footed fish?’‘She got it down in yon well strand;’ O make, etc.
5
‘What did she do with the banes o't?’‘She gae them to the little dog.’
6
‘O what became o the little dog?’‘O it shot out its feet and died;’ O make, etc.
LORD RANDAL—N
1
‘Fare hae ye been a' day, a' day, a' day,Fare hae ye been a' day, my little wee croudlin doo?’
2
‘I've been at my step-mammie's, my step-mammie's, my step-mammie's,I've been at my step-mammie's; come mack my beddy now!’
3
‘What got ye at yer step-mammie's,My little wee croudlin doo?’
4
‘She gied me a spreckled fishie;Come mack my beddy now!’
5
‘What did ye wi the baenies oet,My little wee croudlin doo?’
6
‘I gaed them till her little dogie;Come mack my beddy now!’
7
‘What did her little dogie syne,My little wee croudlin doo?’
8
‘He laid down his heed and feet;And sae shall I dee now!’
The Croodlin Doo
LORD RANDAL—O
[_]
From a manuscript collection, copied out in 1840 or 1850, by a granddaughter of Alexander Fraser-Tytler, p. 67.
1
‘O where hae ye been a' the day, my wee wee croodlin doo doo?O where hae ye been a' the day, my bonnie wee croodlin doo?’
‘O I hae been to my step-mammie's; mak my bed, mammy, noo, noo,
Mak my bed, mammy, noo!’
2
‘O what did yere step-mammie gie to you?’ etc.‘She gied to me a wee wee fish,’ etc.
3
‘[O] what did she boil the wee fishie in?’‘O she boiled it in a wee wee pan; it turned baith black an blue, blue,
It turned baith black an blue.’
4
‘An what did she gie the banes o't to?’‘O she gied them to a wee wee dog;’ mak, etc.
5
‘An what did the wee wee doggie do then?’‘O it put out its tongue and its feet, an it deed; an sae maun I do noo, noo,
An sae maun I do noo!’
Lord Ronald, my son
LORD RANDAL—P
[_]
Communicated by Mr Macmath, of Edinburgh, as derived from his aunt, Miss Jane Webster, formerly of Airds of Kells, now (January, 1883) of Dalry, Kirkcudbrightshire, who learned it more than fifty years ago from Mary Williamson, then a nurse-maid at Airds.
1
‘Where hae ye been a' day, Lord Ronald, my son?Where hae ye been a' day, my handsome young one?’
‘I've been in the wood hunting; mother, make my bed soon,
For I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.’
2
‘O where did you dine, Lord Ronald, my son?O where did you dine, my handsome young one?’
‘I dined with my sweetheart; mother, make my bed soon,
For I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.’
3
‘What got you to dine on, Lord Ronald, my son?What got you to dine on, my handsome young one?’
‘I got eels boiled in water that in heather doth run,
And I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.’
4
‘What did she wi the broo o them, Lord Ronald, my son?What did she wi the broo o them, my handsome young one?’
‘She gave it to my hounds for to live upon,
And I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.’
5
‘Where are your hounds now, Lord Ronald, my son?Where are your hounds now, my handsome young one?’
‘They are a' swelled and bursted, and sae will I soon,
And I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.’
6
‘What will you leave your father, Lord Ronald, my son?What will you leave your father, my handsome young one?’
‘I'll leave him my lands for to live upon,
And I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.’
7
‘What will you leave your brother, Lord Ronald, my son?What will you leave your brother, my handsome young one?’
And I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.’
8
‘What will you leave your sister, Lord Ronald, my son?What will you leave your sister, my handsome young one?’
‘I'll leave her my gold watch for to look upon,
And I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.’
9
‘What will you leave your mother, Lord Ronald, my son?What will you leave your mother, my handsome young one?’
‘I'll leave her my Bible for to read upon,
And I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.’
10
‘What will you leave your sweetheart, Lord Ronald, my son?What will you leave your sweetheart, my handsome young one?’
‘I'll leave her the gallows-tree for to hang upon,
It was her that poisoned me;’ and so he fell doun.
LORD RANDAL—Q
[_]
Pitcairn's MSS, III, 19. “This was communicated to me by my friend Patrick Robertson, Esq., Advocate, who heard it sung by an old lady in the North Country; Stanzas 2–5 “were very much similar to the set in Scott's Minstrelsy,” and were not taken down.
1
‘O whare hae ye been, Lord Randal, my son?O whare hae ye been, my handsome young man?’
‘Oer the peat moss mang the heather, mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm weary, weary hunting, and fain wad lie down.’
6
‘What leave ye to your father, Lord Randal, my son?What leave ye to your father, my handsome young man?’
‘I leave my houses and land, mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm weary, weary hunting, and fain wad lie down.’
7
‘What leave ye to your brother, Lord Randal, my son?What leave ye to your brother, my handsome young man?’
‘O the guid milk-white steed that I rode upon,
For I'm weary, weary hunting, and fain wad lie down.’
8
‘What leave ye to your true-love, Lord Randal, my son?What leave ye to your true-love, my handsome young man?’
‘O a high, high gallows, to hang her upon,
For I'm weary, weary hunting, and fain wad lie down.’
Little wee toorin dow
LORD RANDAL—R
1
‘Whare hae ye been a' day, my little wee toorin dow?’‘It's I've been at my grandmammy's; mak my bed, mammy, now.’
2
‘And what did ye get frae your grandmammy, my little wee toorin dow?’‘It's I got a wee bit fishy to eat; mak my bed, mammy, now.’
3
‘An what did ye do wi the banes o it, my little wee toorin dow?’‘I gied it to my black doggy to eat; mak my bed, mammy, now.’
4
‘An what did your little black doggy do syne, my little wee toorin dow?’‘He shot out his head, and his feet, and he died; as I do, mammy, now.’
LORD RANDAL—S
[_]
Communicated to Percy by Rev. P. Parsons, of Wye, near Ashford, Kent, April 19, 1775: taken down by a friend of Mr Parsons “from the spinning-wheel, in Suffolk.”
1
‘Where have you been today, Randall, my son?Where have you been today, my only man?’
‘I have been a hunting, mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick at the heart, fain woud lie down.
Dear sister, hold my head, dear mother, make my bed,
I am sick at the heart, fain woud lie down.’
2
‘What have you eat today, Randal, my son?What have you eat today, my only man?’
‘I have eat an eel; mother, make,’ etc.
3
‘What was the colour of it, Randal, my son?What was the colour of it, my only man?’
‘It was neither green, grey, blue nor black,
But speckled on the back; make,’ etc.
4
‘Who gave you eels today, Randal, my son?Who gave you eels today, my only man?’
‘My own sweetheart; mother, make,’ etc.
5
‘Where shall I make your bed, Randal, my son?Where shall I make your bed, my only man?’
‘In the churchyard; mother, make,’ etc.
6
‘What will you leave her then, Randall, my son?What will you leave her then, my only man?’
‘A halter to hang herself; make,’ etc.
LORD RANDAL—T
[_]
“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 22 g, in the handwriting of William Laidlaw.
1
‘Where ha ye been, Lord Randal, my son?’‘I been at the huntin, mother, mak my bed soon;
I'm weariet wi huntin, I fain wad lie down.’
2
‘What gat ye to yer supper, Lord Randal, my son?’‘An eel boild i broo, mother, mak my bed soon;
I'm,’ etc.
3
‘What gat yer dogs, Earl Randal, my son?’‘The broo o the eel, mother,’ etc.
4
‘What leave [ye] yer false love, Lord Randal, my son?’‘My goud silken garters, to hang hersel on;
I'm,’ etc.
LORD RANDAL—U
[_]
Letters addressed to Sir Walter Scott, XX, No 77, Abbotsford; from Joseph Jamieson Archibald, Largs, 18th February, 1830.
1
‘Whare were ye the lea lang day,My wee crooding doo, doo?’
‘I hae been at my step-dame's;
Mammy, mak my bed noo, noo!’
2
‘Whare gat she the wee, wee fish?’‘She gat it neist the edder-flowe.’
3
‘What did she wi the fishie's banes?’‘The wee black dog gat them to eat.’
4
‘What did the wee black doggie then?’‘He shot out his fittie an deed;
An sae maun I now too, too.’ Etc.
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