The English and Scottish Popular Ballads :: :: University of Virginia Library

C. K. Sharpe's Letters, ed. Allardyce, I, 180 ff; written down from the recitation of Violet Roddick, a woman living near Hoddam Castle, 1803. Sharpe's Ballad Book, 1823, p. 89.

1

O Errol it's a bonny place,
It stands in yonder glen;
The lady lost the rights of it
The first night she gaed hame.
A waly and a waly!
According as ye ken,
The thing we ca the ranting o't,
Our lady lies her lane, O.

2

‘What need I wash my apron,
Or hing it on yon door?
What need I truce my petticoat?
It hangs even down before.’

3

Errol's up to Edinburgh gaen,
That bonny burrows-town;
He has chusit the barber's daughter,
The top of a' that town.

4

He has taen her by the milk-white hand,
He has led her through the room,
And twenty times he's kisst her,
Before his lady's een.

5

‘Look up, look up now, Peggy,
Look up, and think nae shame,
For I'll gie thee five hundred pound,
To buy to thee a gown.

6

‘Look up, look up, now, Peggy,
Look up, and think nae shame,
For I'll gie thee five hundred pound
To bear to me a son.

7

‘As thou was Kate Carnegie,
And I Sir Gilbert Hay,
I'll gar your father sell his lands,
Your tocher-gude to pay.

8

‘Now he may take her back again,
Do wi her what he can,
For Errol canna please her,
Nor ane o a' his men.’

9

‘Go fetch to me a pint of wine,
Go fill it to the brim,
That I may drink my gude lord's health,
Tho Errol be his name.’

10

She has taen the glass into her hand,
She has putten poison in,
She has signd it to her dorty lips,
But neer a drop went in.

11

Up then spake a little page,
He was o Errol's kin;
‘Now fie upon ye, lady gay,
There's poison there within.

12

‘It's hold your hand now, Kate,’ he says,
‘Hold it back again,
For Errol winna drink on't,
Nor none o a' his men.’

13

She has taen the sheets into her arms,
She has thrown them oer the wa:
‘Since I maun gae maiden hame again,
Awa, Errol, awa!’

14

She's down the back o the garden,
And O as she did murne!
‘How can a workman crave his wage,
When he never wrought a turn?’