The English and Scottish Popular Ballads/Part 3/Chapter 66

and Chiel Wyet Was baith born in one bower; Laid baith their hearts on one lady, The less was their honour. Chiel Wyet and Lord Ingram Was baith born in one hall; Laid baith their hearts on one lady, The worse did them befall. Lord Ingram wood her Lady Maisery From father and from mother; Lord Ingram wood her Lady Maisery From sister and from brother. Lord Ingram wood her Lady Maisery With leave of a' her kin; And every one gave full consent, But she said no to him. Lord Ingram wood her Lady Maisery Into her father's ha; Chiel Wyet wood her Lady Maisery Amang the sheets so sma. Now it fell out upon a day, She was dressing her head, That ben did come her father dear, Wearing the gold so red. He said, Get up now, Lady Maisery, Put on your wedding gown; For Lord Ingram he will be here, Your wedding must be done. 'I'd rather be Chiel Wyet's wife, The white fish for to sell, Before I were Lord Ingram's wife, To wear the silk so well. 'I'd rather be Chiel Wyet's wife, With him to beg my bread, Before I were Lord Ingram's wife, To wear the gold so red. 'Where will I get a bonny boy, Will win gold to his fee, And will run unto Chiel Wyet's, With this letter from me?' 'O here I am, the boy,' says one, 'Will win gold to my fee, And carry away any letter To Chiel Wyet from thee.' And when he found the bridges broke, He bent his bow and swam; And when he found the grass growing, He hastened and he ran. And when he came to Chiel Wyet's castle, He did not knock nor call, But set his bent bow to his breast, And lightly leaped the wall; And ere the porter opend the gate, The boy was in the hall. The first line he looked on, A grieved man was he; The next line he looked on, A tear blinded his ee: Says, I wonder what ails my one brother He'll not let my love be! 'But I'll send to my brother's bridal-+- The bacon shall be mine-+- Full four and twenty buck and roe, And ten tun of the wine; And bid my love be blythe and glad, And I will follow syne.' There was not a groom about that castle But got a gown of green, And all was blythe, and all was glad, But Lady Maisery she was neen. There was no cook about that kitchen But got a gown of gray, And all was blythe, and all was glad, But Lady Maisery was wae. Between Mary Kirk and that castle Was all spread ower with garl, To keep Lady Maisery and her maidens From tramping on the marl. From Mary Kirk and that castle Was spread a cloth of gold, To keep Lady Maisery and her maidens From treading on the mold. When mass was sung, and bells was rung, And all men bound for bed, Then Lord Ingram and Lady Maisery In one bed they were laid. When they were laid into their bed-+- It was baith soft and warm-+- He laid his hand over her side, Says, I think you are with bairn. 'I told you once, so did I twice, When ye came me to woo, That Chiel Wyet, your one brother, One night lay in my bower. 'I told you twice, I told you thrice, Ere ye came me to wed, That Chiel Wyet, your one brother, One night lay in my bed.' 'O will you father your bairn on me, And on no other man? And I'll give him to his dowry Full fifty ploughs of land.' 'I will not father my bairn on you, Nor on no wrongeous man, Though ye would give him to his dowry Five thousand ploughs of land.' Then up did start him Chiel Wyet, Shed by his yellow hair, And gave Lord Ingram to the heart A deep wound and a sair. Then up did start him Lord Ingram, Shed by his yellow hair, And gave Chiel Wyet to the heart A deep wound and a sair. There was no pity for that two lords, Where they were lying slain; But all was for her Lady Maisery, In that bower she gaed brain. There was no pity for that two lords, When they were lying dead; But all was for her Lady Maisery, In that bower she went mad. Said, Get to me a cloak of cloth, A staff of good hard tree; If I have been an evil woman, I shall beg till I dee. 'For a bit I'll beg for Chiel Wyet, For Lord Ingram I'll beg three; All for the good and honorable marriage At Mary Kirk he gave me.'

and Gil Viett Were baith born in ae ha; They laid their love on ae lady, An fate they coud na fa. Lord Ingram and Gil Viett Were baith laid in ae wame; They laid their love on ae lady, The greater was their shame. Lord Ingram wood her Lady Masery Frae father and frae mither; Gill Viett wood her Lady Masery Frae sister and frae brither. Lord Ingram courted her Lady Masery Among the company a'; Gill Viett he wood her Lady Masery Among the sheets so sma. 'Get up, my daughter dear, Put on your bridal gown; This day's your bridal day Wi Lord Ingram.' 'How can I get up, An put on my bridal gown, Or how marry the ae brither, An the tither's babe in my womb?' 'O laugh you at mysell, brither, Or at my companie? Or laugh ye at my bonnie bride, She wad na laugh at thee?' 'I laugh na at yoursel, brither, Nor at your companie; Nor laugh I at your buirlie bride, She wad na laugh at me. 'But there's a brotch on a breast-bane, A garlan on ane's hair; Gin ye kend what war under that, Ye wad neer love woman mair. 'There is a brotch on a breast-bane, An roses on ane's sheen; Gin ye kend what war under that, Your love wad soon be deen.' Whan bells were rung, and mass was sung, And a' man boun to bed, Lord Ingram and Lady Masery In ae chamer were laid. He put his hand out oure his bonnie bride, The babe between her sides did quake: . . . . . . . . . . . 'O father your babe on me, Lady Masery, O father your babe on me.' . . . . . . . . . . . 'I may father my babe on a stock, Sae may I on a stane, But my babe shall never hae A father but its ain.' He took out a brand, And laid it atween them twa; . . . . . . . . . . . Gill Viett took out a long brand, And stroakd it oer a stro, An thro and thro Lord Ingram's bodie He made it come and go. 'Wae mat worth ye, Gill Viett, An ill died mat ye die! For I had the cup in my hand To hae drunken her oer to thee.' '[For] ae mile [I wad gae] for Gil Viett, For Lord Ingram I wad hae gaen three; An a' for that in good kirk-door Fair wedding he gave me.' Gil Viett took a long brand, An stroakd it on a stro, An through and thro his own bodie He made it come and go. There was nae mean made for that godd lords, In bowr whar they lay slain, But a' was for that lady, In bowr whar she gaed brain. There was nae mean made for that lady, In bowr whar she lay dead, But a' was for the bonnie babe That lay blabbering in her bleed.

was a lady fair, She maid her mither's bed; Auld Ingram was an aged knight, And hee sought her to wed. ''Tis I forbid ye, Auld Ingram, For to seek me to spouse; For Lord Wayets, your sister's son, Has been into my bowrs. ''Tis I forbid ye, Auld Ingram, For to seek me to wed; For Lord Wayets, your sister's son, Has been into my bed.' ''Tis he has bought to this lady The robes of the brown; 'And ever alas,' says this lady, 'The robs will pit mee down!' And he has bought to this lady The robs of the red; 'And ever alas,' says this lady, 'The robs will be my dead!' And he has bought to this lady The chrystal and the lammer, Sae has hee bought to her mither The curches of the cammer. Every ane o her se'n brethren They had a hawk in hand, And every lady i the place They got a goud garland. Every cuk in that kitchen They gat a noble claith; A' was blyth at Auld Ingram's cuming, But Lady Maisdrey was wraith. 'Whare will I get a bonny boy, Wad fain wun hos and shoon, That wud rin on to my Wayets, And quickly cume again?' 'Here am I, a bonny boy, Wad fain wun hoes and shoon, Wha wull rin on to your Wayets, And quickly cume again.' 'Ye'l bid him, and ye'l pray him baith, Gif ony prayer can dee, To Mary Kirk to cume the morn, My weary wadding to see.' Lord Wayets lay our his castle wa, Beheld baith dale and down, And he beheld a bonny boy Cume rinnen to the town. 'What news, what news, ye bonny boy? What news ye hae to mee? . . . . . . . . . . . 'O is my ladie's fauldis brunt? Or is her towrs wun? Or is my Maisdrey lighter yet A dear dochter or sun?' 'Your ladie's faulds they are not brunt, Nor yet are her towrs wun, Neither is Maisdrey lighter yet A dear dochter or sun. 'But she bids ye and she prays ye baith, Gif ony prayer can dee, To Mary Kirk to cume the morn, Her weary wadding to see.' He dung the boord up wi his fit, Sae did he wi his tae; The silver cup that sat upon't I the fire he gard it flee: 'O what na a lord in a' Scotland Dare marry my Maisdrey?' 'O 'tis but a feeble thought To tell the tane and not the tither; O 'tis but a feeble thought To tell 'tis your mither's brither.' ''Tis I wull send to that wadding, And I wul follow syne, The fitches o the fallow deer An the gammons o the swine, An the nine hides o the noble cow; 'Twas slain in season time. ''Tis I wul send to that wadding Ten ton of the red wyne; Much more I'll send to that wadding, An I wul follow syne.' When he came in unto the ha, Lady Maisdrey she did ween, And twenty times he kist her mou Before Auld Ingram's een. Nor to the kirk she wud ne gae, Nor til't she wudn ride, Till four and twunty men she gat her before, An twunty on ilka side, An four and twunty milk-white dows To flee aboon her head. A loud laughter gae Lord Wayets Mang the mids o his men: 'Marry the lady wham they weel, A maiden she is nane.' 'O laugh ye at my men, Wayets? Or di ye laugh at me? Or laugh ye at the beerly bride, That's gane to marry me?' 'I laugh na at your men, uncle, Nor yet dive I at thee, Bit I laugh at my lands sae braid, Sae weel's I do them see.' Whan ene was cume, and ene-bells rung, An a' man gane to bed, The bride bit and the silly bridegroom In chambers they were laid. Was na it a fell thing for to see, Twa heads lye on a coad, Lady Maisdrey like the moten goud, Auld Ingram like a toad? He turnd his face unto the stock, And sound he fell asleep; She turnd her fair face unto the wa, An sa't tears she did weep. It fell about the mark midnight, Auld Ingram began to turn him; He pat his hands on's lady's sides, An waly, sair was she murnin. 'What aileth thee, my lady dear? Ever alas and wae's me, There is a baube betwixt thy sides! O sae sair's it grieves me.' 'Didn I tell ye that, Auld Ingram, Or ye saught me to wed, That Lord Wayets, your sister's son, Had been into my bed?' 'O father that bairn on me, Maisdrey, O father it on me, An ye sall hae a rigland shire Your mornin's gift to bee.' 'O sarbit,' says the Lady Maisdrey, 'That ever the like me befa, To father my bairn on Auld Ingram, Lord Wayets in my father's ha! 'O sarbit,' says the Lady Maisdrey, 'That ever the like me betide, To father my bairn on Auld Ingram, An Lord Wayets beside!'

and Childe Viat Were both bred in one ha; They laid their luves on one ladye, And frae her they could na fa. Lord Ingram courted Lady Maisery, He courted her frae ha to bower; And even sae did Childe Viat, Amang the summer flowers. Lord Ingram courted Ladye Maisery, He courted her frae bower to ha; And even sae did Childe Viat, Among the sheets sae sma. Sir Ingram bought her Ladye Maisery The steed that paid him well; She wads he were ayont the sea, Gin she had her true love. Lord Ingram bought her Lady Maisery The knives hafted wi steel; She wads they were in his heart's bluid, Gin Childe Viat was weel. Lord Ingram bought her Lady Maisery The golden knobbed gloves; She wads they were ayone the sea, Gin she had her true love. 'There's two swords in one scabbard, They cost me many a pound; Take you the best, leave me the worst, We's fight till they be done.' The firsten stroke Lord Ingram gae, He wounded Childe Viat nigh; The nexten stroke Childe Viat gae, Lord Ingram's head did flie; And fifty feet oer a burken buss Lord Ingram's head did flee. There was no mane made for these two lords, In bower where they lay slain; But all was for this fair ladie, In bower where she gaed brain. 'For one word I would gie for Childe Viat, For Lord Ingram I would gie three; And it's a' for the brave wedding That he did to me gie.'

and Childe vyet Were baith born in ae bower; They fell in love wi ae lady, Their honour was but poor. Lord Ingram and Childe Vyet Were baith bred in ae ha; They laid their love on Lady Maisry, The waur did them befa. Lord Ingram gained Lady Maisry Frae father and frae mother; Lord Ingram gained Lady Maisry Frae sister and frae brother. Lord Ingram gained Lady Maisry Frae a' her kith and kin; Lord Ingram courted Lady Maisry But she said nay to him. Lord Ingram courted Lady Maisry In the garden amo the flowers; Childe Vyet courted Lady Maisry Amo her ha's and bowers. Lord Ingram sent to Lady Maisry A steed paced fu well; She wishes he were ower the sea, If Childe Vyet were well. Lord Ingram courted Lady Maisry Frae her relations a'; Childe Vyet courted Lady Maisry Amo the sheets sae sma. Lord Ingram bought to Lady Maisry The siller knapped gloves; She wishd his hands might swell in them, Had she her ain true love. Lord Ingram bought to Lady Maisry The brands garnishd wi steel; She wishd the same might pierce his heart, Gin Childe Vyet were weell. Child vyet bought to Lady Maisry The fancy ribbons sma; She had mair delight in her sma fancy Than o Lord Ingram, gowd and a'. Lord Ingram's gane to her father, And thus he did complain: 'O am I doomd to die for love, And nae be loved again? 'I hae sent to you daughter The steed paced fu well; She wishes I were ower the sea, Gin Childe Vyet were well. 'I hae bought to your daughter The siller knapped gloves; She wishd my hands might swell in them, Had she her ain true love. 'I hae bought to your daughter The brands garnishd wi steel; She wishd the same might pierce my heart, Gin Childe Vyet were weell. 'Childe Vyet bought to your daughter The fancy ribbons sma; She's mair delight in her sma fancy Nor o me, gowd and a'.' Her father turnd him round about, A solemn oath sware he, Saying, She shall be the bride this night, And you bridegroom shall be. 'O had your tongue, my father dear, Let a' your passion be; The reason that I love this man, It is unknown to thee.' Sweetly played the merry organs, Intill her mother's bower; But still and dum stood Lady Maisry, And let the tears down pour. Sweetly played the harp sae fine, Intill her fathers ha; But still and dum stood Lady Maisry, And let tears down fa. Tween Marykirk and her mother's bower, Was a' clad ower wi gowd, For keeping o her snaw-white feet Frae treading o the mould. Lord Ingram gaed in at ae church-door, Childe Vyet at another, And lightly leugh him Childe Vyet At Lord Ingram, his brother. 'O laugh ye at my men, brother? Or do ye laugh at me? Or laugh ye at young Lady Maisry, This night my bride's to be?' 'I laugh na at your men, brother, Nor do I laugh at thee; But I laugh at the knightless sport That I saw wi my ee. 'It is a ring on ae finger, A broach on ae breast-bane; And if ye kent what's under that, Your love woud soon be dane.' Lord Ingram and his merry young men Out ower the plains are gane, And pensively walkd him Childe Vyet, Him single self alane. When they had eaten and well drunken, And a' men bound for bed, Lord Ingram and Lady Maisry In ae chamber were laid. He laid his hand upon her breast, And thus pronounced he: 'There is a bairn within your sides, Wha may the father be? 'Wha ever be your bairn's father, Ye will father it on me; The fairest castle o Snowdown Your morning gift shall be.' 'Wha ever be my bairn's father, I'll neer father it on thee; For better love I my bairn's father 'Nor ever I'll love thee.' Then he's taen out a trusty brand, Laid it between them tway; Says, Lye ye there, ye ill woman, A maid for me till day. Next morning her father came, Well belted wi a brand; Then up it starts him Lord Ingram, He was an angry man. 'If your daughter had been a gude woman, As I thought she had been, Cauld iron shoud hae never lien The lang night us between.' 'Ohon, alas! my daughter dear, What's this I hear o thee? I thought ye was a gude woman As in the north countrie.' 'O had your tongue, my father dear, Let a' your sorrows be; I never liked Lord Ingram, Ye ken ye forced me.' Then in it came him Childe Vyet, Well belted wi a brand; Then up it raise him Lord Ingram, He was an angry man. 'Win up, win up, now Lord Ingram, Rise up immediately, That you and I the quarrel try, Who gains the victory. 'I hae twa brands in ae scabbard, That cost me mony pound; Take ye the best, gie me the warst, And I'll fight where I stand.' Then up it starts him Childe Vyet, Shook back his yellow hair; The first an stroke Childe Vyet drew, He wounded Ingram sair. Then up it starts him Lord Ingram, Shed back his coal-black hair' The first an stroke Lord Ingram drew, Childe Vyet needed nae mair. Nae meen was made for these twa knights, Whan they were lying dead, But a' for her Lady Maisry, That gaes in mournfu weed. Says, 'If I hae been an ill woman, Alas and wae is me! And if I've been an ill woman, A gude woman I'll be! 'Ye'll take frae me my silk attire, Bring me a palmer's weed, And thro the world, for their sakes, I'll gang and beg my bread. 'If I gang a step for Childe Vyet, For Lord Ingram I'll gang three; All for the honour that he paid At Marykirk to me. 'I'll gang a step for Childe Vyet, For Lord Ingram I'll gang three; It was into my mother's bower Childe Vyet wronged me.'