University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
The English and Scottish Popular Ballads

Edited by Francis James Child.

expand sectionI. 
expand sectionII. 
expand sectionIII. 
expand sectionIV. 
expand sectionV. 
expand sectionVI. 
expand sectionVII. 
expand sectionVIII. 
collapse sectionIX. 
expand section266. 
expand section267. 
expand section268. 
expand section269. 
expand section270. 
expand section271. 
expand section272. 
expand section273. 
expand section274. 
expand section275. 
expand section276. 
expand section277. 
expand section278. 
expand section279. 
expand section280. 
expand section281. 
expand section282. 
expand section283. 
expand section284. 
expand section285. 
expand section286. 
expand section287. 
expand section288. 
expand section289. 
expand section290. 
expand section291. 
expand section292. 
collapse section293. 
  
  
  
  
  
expand section294. 
expand section295. 
expand section296. 
expand section297. 
expand section298. 
expand section299. 
expand section300. 
expand section301. 
expand section302. 
expand section303. 
expand section304. 
expand section305. 

Lambert Linkin

LAMKIN—B

[_]

Motherwell's MS., p. 15; from the recitation of Mrs Thomson, Kilbarchan, February 25, 1825.

1

Balankin was as gude a mason
as eer picked a stane;
He built up Prime Castle,
but payment gat nane.

2

The lord said to his lady,
when he was going abroad,
O beware of Balankin,
for he lyes in the wood.

3

The gates they were bolted,
baith outside and in;
At the sma peep of a window
Balankin crap in.

4

‘Good morrow, good morrow,’
said Lambert Linkin:
‘Good morrow to yoursell, sir,’
said the false nurse to him.

5

‘O where is your good lord?’
said Lambert Linkin:
‘He's awa to New England,
to meet with his king.’

6

‘O where is his auld son?’
said Lambert Linkin:
‘He's awa to buy pearlings,
gin our lady lye in.’

7

‘Then she'll never wear them,’
said Lambert Linkin:
‘And that is nae pity,’
said the false nurse to him.

8

‘O where is your lady?’
said Lambert Linkin:
‘She's in her bower sleeping,’
said the false nurse to him.

9

‘How can we get at her?’
said Lambert Linkin:
‘Stab the babe to the heart,
wi a silver bokin.’

10

‘That would be a pity,’
said Lambert Linkin:
‘No pity, no pity,’
said the false nurse to him.

11

Balankin he rocked,
and the false nurse she sang,
Till all the tores of the cradle
wi the red blood down ran.

12

‘O still my babe, nurice,
O still him wi the knife!’
‘He'll no be still, lady,
tho I lay doun my life.’

13

‘O still my babe, nurice,
O still him wi the kame!’
‘He'll no be still, lady,
till his daddy come hame.’

14

‘O still my babe, nurice,
O still him wi the bell!’
‘He'll no be still, lady,
till ye come doun yoursell.’

15

‘It's how can I come down,
this cauld winter nicht,
Without eer a coal,
or a clear candle-licht?’

16

‘There's two smocks in your coffer,
as white as a swan;
Put one of them about you,
it will shew you licht down.’

324

17

She took ane o them about her,
and came tripping doun;
But as soon as she viewed,
Balankin was in.

18

‘Good morrow, good morrow,’
said Lambert Linkin:
‘Good morrow to yoursell, sir,’
said the lady to him.

19

‘O save my life, Balankin,
till my husband come back,
And I'll gie you as much red gold
as you'll hold in your hat.’

20

‘I'll not save your life, lady,
till your husband come back,
Tho you would give me as much red gold
as I could hold in a sack.

21

‘Will I kill her?’ quo Balankin,
‘will I kill her, or let her be?’
‘You may kill her,’ said the false nurse,
‘she was neer good to me;
And ye'll be laird of the castle,
and I'll be ladie.’

22

Then he cut aff her head
fram her lily breast-bane,
And he hung't up in the kitchen,
it made a' the ha shine.

23

The lord sat in England,
a drinking the wine:
‘I wish a' may be weel
with my lady at hame;
For the rings of my fingers
the're now burst in twain!’

24

He saddled his horse,
and he came riding doun,
But as soon as he viewed,
Balankin was in.

25

He had na weel stepped
twa steps up the stair,
Till he saw his pretty young son
lying dead on the floor.

26

He had not weel stepped
other twa up the stair,
Till he saw his pretty lady
lying dead in despair.

27

He hanged Balankin
out over the gate,
And he burnt the fause nurice,
being under the grate.