Part 39

Then Hobie has sworn a fu’ great aith, By the day that he was gotten and born, He never had ony thing o’ my lord’s, That either eat him grass or corn.

“Now fare thee weel, sweet Mangerton! For I think again I’ll ne’er thee see: I wad betray nae lad alive, For a’ the goud in Christentie.

“And fare thee weel, sweet Liddesdale! Baith the hie land and the law; Keep ye weel frae traitor Mains! For goud and gear he’ll sell ye a’.

“Yet wad I rather be ca’d Hobie Noble, In Carlisle where he suffers for his faut, Before I’d be ca’d traitor Mains, That eats and drinks of the meal and maut.”

THE TWA SISTERS

(Sharpe’s Ballad Book, No. X., p. 30.)

THERE liv’d twa sisters in a bower, Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch. There liv’d twa sisters in a bower, Stirling for aye: The youngest o’ them, O, she was a flower! Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

There came a squire frae the west, Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch. There cam a squire frae the west, Stirling for aye: He lo’ed them baith, but the youngest best, Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

He gied the eldest a gay gold ring, Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch. He gied the eldest a gay gold ring, Stirling for aye: But he lo’ed the youngest aboon a’ thing, Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

“Oh sister, sister, will ye go to the sea? Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch. Oh sister, sister, will ye go to the sea? Stirling for aye: Our father’s ships sail bonnilie, Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.”

The youngest sat down upon a stane, Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch. The youngest sat down upon a stane, Stirling for aye: The eldest shot the youngest in, Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

“Oh sister, sister, lend me your hand, Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch. Oh, sister, sister, lend me your hand, Stirling for aye: And you shall hae my gouden fan, Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

“Oh, sister, sister, save my life, Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch. Oh sister, sister, save my life, Stirling for aye: And ye shall be the squire’s wife, Bonny Sweet Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.”

First she sank, and then she swam, Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch. First she sank, and then she swam, Stirling for aye: Until she cam to Tweed mill dam, Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

The millar’s daughter was baking bread, Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch. The millar’s daughter was baking bread, Stirling for aye: She went for water, as she had need, Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

“Oh father, father, in our mill dam, Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch, Oh father, father, in our mill dam, Stirling for aye: There’s either a lady, or a milk-white swan, Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.”

They could nae see her fingers small, Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch. They could nae see her fingers small, Stirling for aye: Wi’ diamond rings they were cover’d all, Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

They could nae see her yellow hair, Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch. They could nae see her yellow hair, Stirling for aye: Sae mony knots and platts war there, Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

Bye there cam a fiddler fair, Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch. Bye there cam a fiddler fair, Stirling for aye: And he’s ta’en three tails o’ her yellow hair, Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

MARY AMBREE

(Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, vol. ii. p. 230.)

WHEN captaines couragious, whom death cold not daunte, Did march to the siege of the citty of Gaunt, They mustred their souldiers by two and by three, And the formost in battle was Mary Ambree.

When brave sergeant-major was slaine in her sight, Who was her true lover, her joy, and delight, Because he was slaine most treacherouslie Then vowd to revenge him Mary Ambree.

She clothed herselfe from the top to the toe In buffe of the bravest, most seemelye to showe; A faire shirt of male then slipped on shee: Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?

A helmett of proofe shee strait did provide, A stronge arminge-sword shee girt by her side, On her hand a goodly faire gauntlett put shee: Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?

Then tooke shee her sworde and her targett in hand, Bidding all such, as wold, bee of her band; To wayte on her person came thousand and three: Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?

“My soldiers,” she saith, “soe valliant and bold, Nowe followe your captaine, whom you doe beholde; Still formost in battell myselfe will I bee:” Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?

Then cryed out her souldiers, and loude they did say, “Soe well thou becomest this gallant array, Thy harte and thy weapons so well do agree, No mayden was ever like Mary Ambree.”