Fair Isabell of Rochroyall
THE LASS OF ROCH ROYAL—A
[_]
E. Cochrane's Songbook, p. 151, No 114.
1
Fair Isabell of Rochroyall,
She dreamed where she lay,
She dreamd a dream of her love Gregory,
A litle before the day.
2
O huly, huly rose she up,
And huly she put on,
And huly, huly she put on
The silks of crimsion.
3
‘Gar sadle me the black,’ she sayes,
‘Gar sadle me the broun;
Gar sadle me the swiftest steed
That ever rode the toun.
4
‘Gar shoe him with the beat silver,
And grind him with the gold;
Gar put two bells on every side,
Till I come to some hold.’
5
She had not rode a mile, a mile,
A mile but barely three,
Till that she spyed a companie
Come rakeing oere the lee.
6
‘O whether is this the first young may,
That lighted and gaed in;
Or is this the second young may,
That neer the sun shined on?
Or is this Fair Isabell of Roch Royall,
Banisht from kyth and kin.’
7
‘O I am not the first young may,
That lighted and gaed in;
Nor neither am I the second young may,
That neer the sun shone on;
8
‘But I'm Fair Isabell of Roch Royall
Banisht from kyth and kin;
I'm seeking my true-love Gregory,
And I would I had him in.’
9
‘O go your way to yon castle,
And ride it round about,
And there you'll find Love Gregory;
He's within, without any doubt.’
10
O she's away to yon castle,
She's tirled at the pin:
‘O open, open, Love Gregory,
And let your true-love in.’
11
‘If you be the lass of the Rochroyall,
As I trow not you be,
You will tell me some of our love-tokens,
That was betwixt you and me.’
12
‘Have you not mind, Love Gregory,
Since we sat at the wine;
When we changed the rings off our fingers,
And ay the worst fell mine?
13
‘Mine was of the massy gold,
And thine was of the tin;
Mine was true and trusty both,
And thine was false within.’
14
If you be [the] lass of the Roch Royall,
As I trow not you be,
You will tell me some other love-token
That was betwixt you and me.’
15
‘Have you not mind, Love Gregory,
Since we sat at the wine,
We changed the smocks off our two backs,
And ay the worst fell mine?
16
‘Mine was of the holland fine,
And thine was course and thin;
So many blocks have we two made,
And ay the worst was mine.’
17
‘Love Gregory, he is not at home,
But he is to the sea;
If you have any word to him,
I pray you leave't with me.’
[OMITTED]
18
‘O who will shoe my bony foot?
Or who will glove my hand?
Or who will bind my midle jimp
With the broad lilly band?
19
‘Or who will comb my bony head
With the red river comb?
Or who will be my bairn's father
Ere Gregory he come home?’
20
‘O I's gar shoe thy bony foot,
And I's gar glove thy hand,
And I's gar bind thy midle jimp
With the broad lilly band.
21
‘And I's gar comb thy bony head
With the red river comb;
But there is none to be thy bairn's father
Till Love Gregory he come home.
22
‘I'll set my foot on the ship-board,
God send me wind and more!
For there's never a woman shall bear a son
Shall make my heart so sore.’
23
‘I dreamed a dream now since yestreen,
That I never dreamed before;
I dreamd that the lass of the Rochroyall
Was knocking at the door.’
24
‘Ly still, ly still, my é dear son,
Ly still, and take a sleep;
For it's neither ane hour, nor yet a half,
Since she went from the gate.’
25
‘O wo be to you, ill woman,
And ane ill death mott you die!
For you might have come to my bed-side,
And then have wakened me.
26
‘Gar sadle me the black,’ he sayes,
‘Gar sadle me the broun;
Gar sadle me the swiftest steed
That ever rode the toun.
27
‘Gar shoe him with the beat silver,
Gar grind him with the gold;
Cause put two bells on every side,
Till I come to some hold.’
28
They sadled him the black, the black,
So did they him the broun;
So did they him the swiftest steed
That ever rode to toun.
29
They shoed him with the beat silver,
They grind him with the gold;
They put two bells on every side,
Till he came to some hold.
30
He had not rode a mile, a mile,
A mile but barely three,
Till that he spyed her comely corps
Come raking oere the lee.
31
‘Set doun, set doun these comely corps,
Let me look on the dead:’
And out he's ta'en his little pen-knife,
And slitted her winding sheet.
32
And first he kist her cheek, her cheek,
And then he kist her chin;
And then he kist her rosy lips,
But there was no breath within.
33
‘Gar deall, gar deall for my love sake
The spiced bread and the wine;
For ere the morn at this time
So shall you deall for mine.
34
‘Gar deall, gar deall for my love sake
The pennys that are so small;
For ere the morn at this time,
So shall you deall for all.’
35
The one was buried in Mary kirk,
The other in Mary quire;
Out of the one there sprung a birk,
Out of the other a bryar;
So thus you may well know by that
They were two lovers dear.
