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

They hae booted him, and spurred him,
As he was wont to ride,
A hunting-horn tied round his waist,
A sharp sword by his side;
And they hae had him to the wan water,
For a' men call it Clyde.

8

Then up and spake the popinjay,
That sat upon the tree:
‘What hae ye done wi Erl Richard?
Ye were his gaye ladye.’

9

‘Come down, come down, my bonny bird,
And sit upon my hand;
And thou sall hae a cage o gowd,
Where thou hast but the wand.’

10

‘Awa, awa, ye ill woman,
Nae cage o gowd for me;
As ye hae dune to Erl Richard,
Sae wad ye do to me.’

11

She hadna crossd a rigg o land,
A rigg but barely ane,
When she met wi his auld father,
Came riding all alane.

12

‘Where hae ye been, now, ladye fair,
Where hae ye been sae late?
We hae been seeking Erl Richard,
But him we canna get.’

13

‘Erl Richard kens a' the fords in Clyde,
He'll ride them ane by ane;
And though the night was neer sae mirk,
Erl Richard will be hame.’

153

14

O it fell anes upon a day
The king was boun to ride,
And he has mist him Erl Richard,
Should hae ridden on his right side.

15

The ladye turnd her round about,
Wi mickle mournfu din:
‘It fears me sair o Clyde water,
That he is drownd therein.’

16

‘Gar douk, gar douk,’ the king he cried,
‘Gar douk for gold and fee;
O wha will douk for Erl Richard's sake,
Or wha will douk for me?’

17

They douked in at ae weil-heid,
And out aye at the other:
‘We can douk nae mair for Erl Richard,
Altho he were our brother.’

18

It fell that in that ladye's castle
The king was boun to bed,
And up and spake the popinjay,
That flew abune his head.

19

‘Leave aff your douking on the day,
And douk upon the night;
And wherever that sackless knight lies slain,
The candles will burn bright.’

20

‘O there's a bird within this bower,
That sings baith sad and sweet;
O there's a bird within your bower
Keeps me frae my night's sleep.’

21

They left the douking on the day,
And douked upon the night,
And where that sackless knight lay slain,
The candles burned bright.

22

The deepest pot in a' the linn
They fand Erl Richard in;
A green turf tyed across his breast,
To keep that gude lord down.

23

Then up and spake the king himsell,
When he saw the deadly wound,
‘O wha has slain my right-hand man,
That held my hawk and hound?’

24

Then up and spake the popinjay,
Says, What needs a' this din?
It was his light lemman took his life,
And hided him in the linn.

25

She swore her by the grass sae grene,
Sae did she by the corn,
She had na seen him Erl Richard
Since Moninday at morn.

26

‘Put na the wyte on me,’ she said,
‘It was my may, Catherine:’
Then they hae cut baith fern and thorn,
To burn that maiden in.

27

It wadna take upon her cheik,
Nor yet upon her chin,
Nor yet upon her yellow hair,
To cleanse the deadly sin.

28

The maiden touchd the clay-cauld corpse,
A drap it never bled;
The ladye laid her hand on him,
And soon the ground was red.

29

Out they hae ta'en her May Catherine,
And put her mistress in;
The flame tuik fast upon her cheik,
Tuik fast upon her chin,
Tuik fast upon her fair bodye,
She burnd like hollins grene.