The English and Scottish Popular Ballads/Part 4/Chapter 93

'S Lamkin was a mason good As ever built wi stane; He built Lord Wearie's castle, But payment got he nane. 'O pay me, Lord Wearie, come, pay me my fee:' 'I canna pay you, Lamkin, For I maun gang oer the sea.' 'O pay me now, Lord Wearie, Come, pay me out o hand:' 'I canna pay you, Lamkin, Unless I sell my land.' 'O gin ye winna pay me, I here sall mak a vow, Before that ye come hame again, ye sall hae cause to rue.' Lord Wearie got a bonny ship, to sail the saut sea faem; Bade his lady weel the castle keep, ay till he should come hame. But the nourice was a fause limmer as eer hung on a tree; She laid a plot wi Lamkin, whan her lord was oer the sea. She laid a plot wi Lamkin, when the servants were awa, Loot him in at a little shot-window, and brought him to the ha. 'O whare's a' the men o this house, that ca me Lamkin?' 'They're at the barn-well thrashing; 'twill be lang ere they come in.' 'And whare's the women o this house, that ca me Lamkin?' 'They're at the far well washing; 'twill be lang ere they come in.' 'And whare's the bairns o this house, that ca me Lamkin?' 'They're at the school reading; 'twill be night or they come hame.' 'O whare's the lady o this house, that ca's me Lamkin?' 'She's up in her bower sewing, but we soon can bring her down.' Then Lamkin's tane a sharp knife, that hang down by his gaire, And he has gien the bonny babe A deep wound and a sair. Then Lamkin he rocked, and the fause nourice sang, Till frae ilkae bore o the cradle the red blood out sprang. Then out it spak the lady, as she stood on the stair: 'What ails my bairn, nourice, that he's greeting sae sair? 'O still my bairn, nourice, O still him wi the pap!' 'He winna still, lady, for this nor for that.' 'O still my bairn, nourice, O still him wi the wand!' 'He winna still, lady, for a' his father's land.' 'O still my bairn, nourice, O still him wi the bell!' 'He winna still, lady, till ye come down yoursel.' O the firsten step she steppit, she steppit on a stane; But the neisten step she steppit, she met him Lamkin. 'O mercy, mercy, Lamkin, hae mercy upon me! Though you've taen my young son's life, Ye may let mysel be.' 'O sall I kill her, nourice, or sall I lat her be?' 'O kill her, kill her, Lamkin, for she neer was good to me.' 'O scour the bason, nourice, and mak it fair and clean, For to keep this lady's heart's blood, For she's come o noble kin.' 'There need nae bason, Lamkin, lat it run through the floor; What better is the heart's blood o the rich than o the poor?' But ere three months were at an end, Lord Wearie came again; But dowie, dowie was his heart when first he came hame. 'O wha's blood is this,' he says, 'That lies in the chamer?' 'It is your lady's heart's blood; 'tis as clear as the lamer.' 'And wha's blood is this,' he says, 'That lies in my ha?' 'It is your young son's heart's blood; 'tis the clearest ava.' O sweetly sang the black-bird that sat upon the tree; But sairer grat Lamkin, when he was condemnd to die. And bonny sang the mavis, Out o the thorny brake; But sairer grat the nourice, when she was tied to the stake.

was as gude a mason as eer picked a stane; He built up Prime Castle, but payment gat nane. The lord said to his lady, when he was going abroad, O beware of Balankin, for he lyes in the wood. The gates they were bolted, baith outside and in; At the sma peep of a window Blankin crap in. 'Good morrow, good morrow,' said Lambert Linkin: 'Good morrow to yoursell, sir,' said the false nurse to him. 'O where is your good lord?' said Lambert Linkin: 'He's awa to New England, to meet with his king.' 'O where is his auld son?' said Lambert Linkin: 'He's awa to buy pearlings, Gin our lady lye in.' 'Then she'll never wear them,' said Lambert Linkin: 'And that is nae pity,' said the false nurse to him. 'O where is your lady?' said Lambert Linkin: 'She's in her bower sleeping,' said the false nurse to him. 'How can we get at her?' said Lambert Linkin: 'Stab the babe to the heart, wi a silver bokin.' 'That would be a pity,' said Lambert Linkin: 'No pity, no pity,' said the false nurse to him. Balankin he rocked, and the false nurse she sang, Till all the tores of the cradle wi the red blood down ran. 'O still my babe, nurice, O still him wi the knife!' 'He'll no be still, lady, tho I lay doun my life.' 'O still my babe, nurice, O still him wi the kame!' 'He'll be no still, lady, till his daddy come hame.' 'O still my babe, nurice, O still him wi the bell!' 'He'll no be still, lady, till ye come doun yoursell.' 'It's how can I come down, this cauld winter nicht, Without eer a coal, or a clear candle-licht?' 'There's two smocks in your coffer, as white as a swan; Put one of them about you, it will shew you licht down.' She took ane o them about her, and came tripping doun; But as soon as she viewed, Balankin was in. 'Good morrow, good morrow,' said Lambert Linkin: 'Good morrow to yoursell, sir, said the lady to him. '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.' '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. '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.' 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. 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!' He saddled his horse, and he came riding doun, But as soon as he viewed, Balankin was in. He had na weel stepped twa steps up the stair, Till he saw his pretty young son lying dead on the floor. He had not weel stepped other twa up the stair, Till he saw his pretty lady lying dead in despair. He hanged Balankin out over the gate, And he burnt the fause nurice, being under the grate.

, as gude a mason as eer laid a stane, Built a house to Lord Arran, but entrance had nane. Says the lord to his lady, when going abroad, Take care of Lamerlinkin, wha bides in the wood. 'I care not for Lamkin, nor none of his kin; My house is plastered outside, and bolted within.' The gates they were locked, baith outside and in, But there was a wee hole that let Lamkin creep in. 'Good woman, good woman,' said Lamerlinkin: 'Good woman, good woman,' said the fause nurse to him. 'Where's the lord o this house? is he not within?' 'He's up in Old England, he's dining wi the king.' 'Where's the lady of this house? or is she not within?' 'She's up in her high room, and cannot come down.' 'Where is the maids o this house? or are they not within?' 'They are at the well washing, and cannot get in.' 'Where is the men o this house? or are they not within?' 'They are at the barn threshing, and cannot win hame.' 'O what will I do, to mak her come doun?' 'We'll kill her auld son, to mak her come doun.' He took out a pen-knife, baith pointed and sharp, And he stabbed the babie three times in the heart. Lamerlinkin did rock, and the fause nurse did sing; Ower the four-cornered cradle the red blood did spring. 'O please my babie, nurse, O please him wi wands!' 'He'll no be pleased, madam, for a' his father's lands.' 'O please my babie, nurse, O please him wi keys!' 'He'll no be pleased, madam, let me do what I please.' 'O please my babie, nurse, O please him with bells!' 'He'll no be pleased, madam, till you come down yoursell. 'How can I come doun this cold frosty night, Without coal or candle for to shew me light?' 'The gold rings on your finger are bright as the sun; You may see to cum doun the stair with the light o them.' O then she came doun the stair, stepping step by step; So ready was Lamkin to grip her in his lap. 'Save my life, Lamkin, till five minutes break, And I'll give thee gold, the fu o a peck.' 'I'll no save your life, till five minutes break, Tho thou should give me gold, the fu of a sack.' 'O Jeany, O Jeany, O scour the bason clean, That your lady's noble blood may be kepped clean.' 'O no, no, no, Lambkin, my heart will be sare; O take my life, Lambkin, let my lady go.' He sent for the false nurse, to give her her fee; All the fee that he gave her was to hang her on a tree. sent for Lamerlinkin, to give him his hire; All the hire that he gave him was to burn him in the fire.

the lord to his lady, Beware of Rankin; For I am going to England, to wait on the king. 'No fears, no fears,' said the lady, said she, 'For the doors shall be bolted, and the windows pindee. 'Go bar all the windows, both outside and in; Don't leave a window open, to let Bold Rankin in.' She has barred all the windows, both outside and in; But she left one of them open, to let Bold Rankin in. 'O where is the master of this house?' said Bold Rankin; 'He's up in Old England.' said the false nurse to him. 'O where is the mistress of this house?' said Bold Rankin; 'She's up in the chamber sleeping,' said the false nurse to him. 'O how shall we get her down?' said Bold Rankin; 'By piercing the baby,' said the false nurse to him. 'Go please the baby, nursy, go please it with a bell;' 'It will not be pleased, madam, till you come down yoursel.' 'How can I come down stairs, so late into the night, Without coal or candle, to shew me the light? 'There is a silver bolt lies on the chest-head; Give it to the baby, give it sweet milk and bread.' She rammed the silver bolt up the baby's nose, Till the blood it came trinkling down the baby's fine clothes. 'Go please the baby, nursie, go please it with the bell:' 'It will not please, madam, till you come down yoursel. 'It will neither please with breast-milk, nor yet with pap; But I pray, loving lady, Come and roll it in your lap.' The first step she stepit, she steppit on a stone; And the next step she stepit, she met Bold Rankin. 'O rankin, O Rankin, spare me till twelve o'clock, And I will give you as many guineas as you can carry on your back.' 'What care I for as many guineas as seeds into a sack, When I cannot keep my hands off your lily-white neck?' 'O will I kill her, nursie, or let her abee?' 'O kill her,' said the false nurse, 'She was never good to me.' 'Go scour the bason, lady, both outside and in, To hold your mother's heart's blood, sprung from a noble kin.' 'To hold my mother's heart's blood would make my heart full woe; O rather kill me, Rankin, and let my mother go.' 'Go scour the bason, servants, both outside and in, To hold your lady's heart's blood, sprung from a noble kin.' 'To hold my lady's heart's blood would make my heart full woe; O rather kill me, Rankin, and let my lady go.' 'Go scour the bason, nursy, both outside and in, To hold your lady's heart's blood, sprung from a noble kin.' 'To hold my lady's heart's blood would make my heart full glad; Ram in the knife, Bold Rankin, and gar the blood to shed. 'She's none of my comrades, she's none of my kin; Ram in the knife, Bold Rankin, and gar the blood rin.' 'O will I kill her, nursy, or let her abee?' 'O kill her,' said the false nurse, 'She was never good to me.' 'I wish my wife and family may be all well at home; For the silver buttons of my coat they will not stay on.' As Betsy was looking oer her window so high, She saw her dear father come riding by. 'O father, dear father, don't put the blame on me It was false nurse and Rankin that killed your lady.' O wasn't that an awful sight, when he came to the stair, To see his fairest lady lie bleeding there! The false nurse was burnt on the mountain hill-head, And Rankin was boiled in a pot full of lead.

was as good a mason as ever laid stone; He builded Lord Montgomery's castle, but payment got none. He builded the castle without and within; But he left an open wake for himself to get in. Lord Montgomery said to his lady, when he went abroad, Take care of Bold Lambkin, for he is in the wood. 'Gar bolt the gate, nourice, without and within, Leave not the wake open, to let Bold Lambkin in.' She bolted the gates, without and within, But she left the wake open, to let Bold Lambkin in. 'Gude morrow, gude morrow,' says Bold Lambkin then; 'Gude morrow, gude morrow,' says the false nurse to him. 'Where is Lord Montgomery? or where is he gone?' 'He is gone up to England, to wait on the king! 'Where are the servants? and where are they gone?' 'They are all up to England, to wait upon him.' 'Where is your lady? or where is she gone?' 'She is in her bower sitting, and sewing her seam.' 'O what shall we do for to make her come down?' 'We'll kill the pretty baby, that's sleeping so sound.' Lambkin he rocked, and the false nurse she sung, And she stabbed the babe to the heart with a silver bodkin. 'O still my babe, nourice, O still him with the pap:' 'He'll no be stilled, madam, for this nor for that.' 'O still my babe, nourice, go still him with the keys:' 'He'll no be stilled, madam, let me do what I please.' 'O still my babe, nourice, go still him with the bell:' 'He'll no be stilled, madam, till you come down yoursel.' 'How can I come down, this cold winter night, When there's neither coal burning, nor yet candle-light?' 'The sark on your back is whiter than the swan; Come down the stair, lady, by the light of your hand.' The lady she cam down the stair trip for trap; Who so ready as Bold Lambkin to meet her in the dark? 'Gude morrow, gude morrow,' said Bold Lambkin then; 'Gude morrow, gude morrow,' said the lady to him. 'O where is Lord Montgomery? or where is he gone?' 'O he is up to England, to wait on the king.' 'O where are your servants? or where are they gone?' 'They are all up to England, to wait upon him. 'I'll give you as much gold, Lambkin, as you'll put in a peck, If you'll spare my life till my lord comes back.' 'Tho you would [give] me as much as I could put in a sack, I would not spare thy life till thy lord comes back.' Lord Montgomery sate in England, drinking with the king; The buttons flew off his coat, all in a ring. 'God prosper, God prosper my lady and son! For before I get home they will all be undone.'

my lord to his ladye, as he mounted his horse, (bis) Take care of Long Lankyn, who lies in the moss. (bis) Said my lord to his ladye, as he rode away, Take care of Long Lankyn, who lies in the clay. Let the doors be all bolted, and the windows all pinned, And leave not a hole for a mouse to creep in. Then he kissed his fair ladye, and he rode away; He must be in London before break of day. The doors were all bolted, and the windows were pinned, All but one little window, where Long Lankyn crept in. 'Where is the lord of this house?' said Long Lankyn: 'He is gone to fair London,' said the false nurse to him. 'Where is the ladye of this house?' said Long Lankyn: 'She's asleep in her chamber,' said the false nurse to him. 'Where is the heir of this house?' said Long Lankyn: 'He's asleep in his cradle,' said the false nurse to him. 'We'll prick him, and prick him, all over with a pin, And that will make your ladye to come down to him.' So she pricked him and pricked, all over with a pin, And the nurse held a basin for the blood to run in. 'Oh nurse, how you sleep! Oh nurse, how you snore! And you leave my little son Johnstone to cry and to roar.' 'I've tried him with suck, and I've tried him with pap; So come down, my fair ladye, and nurse him in your lap.' 'Oh nurse, how you sleep! Oh nurse, how you snore! And you leave my little son Johnstone to cry and to roar.' 'I've tried him with apples, I've tried him with pears; So come down, my fair ladye, and rock him in your chair.' 'How can I come down, 'tis so late in the night, When there's no candle burning, nor fire to give light?' 'You have three silver mantles as bright as the sun; So come down, my fair ladye, by the light of one.' 'Oh spare me, Long Lankyn, oh spare me till twelve o'clock, You shall have as much gold as you can carry on your back.' 'If I had as much gold as would build me a tower,' . . . . . . . . . . 'Oh spare me, Long Lankyn, oh spare me one hour, You shall have my daughter Betsy, she is a sweet flower.' 'Where is your daughter Betsy? she may do some good; She can hold the silver basin, to catch your heart's blood.' Lady Betsy was sitting in her window so high, And she saw her father, as he was riding by. 'Oh father, oh father, don't lay the blame on me; 'Twas the false nurse and Long Lankyn that killed your ladye.' Then Long Lankyn was hanged on a gallows so high, And the false nurse was burnt in a fire just by.

lord said to his ladie, as he mounted his horse, Beware of Long Lonkin, that lies in the moss. The lord said to his ladie, as he rode away, Beware of Long Lonkin, that lies in the clay. 'What care I for Lonkin, or any of his gang? My doors are all shut, and my windows penned in.' There were six little windows, and they were all shut, But one little window, and that was forgot. . . . . . . . . . . And at that little window long Lonkin crept in. 'Where's the lord of the hall?' says the Lonkin: 'He's gone up to London,' says Orange to him. 'Where's the men of the hall?' says the Lonkin: 'They're at the field ploughing,' says Orange to him. 'Where's the maids of the hall?' says the Lonkin: 'They're at the well washing,' says Orange to him. 'Where's the ladies of the hall?' says the Lonkin: 'They're up in their chambers,' says Orange to him. 'How shall we get them down?' says the Lonkin: 'Prick the babe in the cradle,' says Orange to him. 'Rock well my cradle, and bee-ba my son; You shall have a new gown when the lord he comes home.' Still she did prick it, and bee-ba she cried: 'Come down, dearest mistress, and still your own child.' 'Oh still my child, Orange, still him with a bell:' 'I can't still him, ladie, till you come down yoursell.' 'Hold the gold basin, for your heart's blood to run in,' . . . . . . . . . . 'To hold the gold basin, it grieves me full sore; Oh kill me, dear Lonkin, and let my mother go.'

was as gude a mason as eer biggit wi stane; He has biggit a bonny castle, but siller he gat nane. 'Gae bar the gates,' the lady said, 'gae bar them out and in; Leave not a door open, lest Rankin should come in.' They've bard them on the outer side, sae hae they on the in; But left the cellar-door open, and Bauld Rankin crap in. 'Where's a' the women o the house?' says Bauld Rankin: 'They're at the well washing,' says the fause nurse to him. 'Where's a' the men of this house?' says the Bauld Rankin: 'They are at the barn thrashing,' says the fause nurse to him. 'Where's the lady of this house?' says the Bauld Rankin: 'She's in the chamber, sleeping,' says the fause nurse to him. 'How will we get her wakent? how will we get her down?' 'We'll pierce the baby's heart's blood,' says the fause nurse to him. 'Come, please the babe, nurse, come please it wi the keys:' 'It'll no be pleased, madam, tho I'll down on my knees.' 'Come, please the babe, nurse, come, please it wi the knife:' 'It'll no be pleased, madam, should I lay down my life.' 'Come, please the babe, nurse, come, please it wi the bell:' 'It'll no be pleased, madam, till ye come down yoursel.' 'How can I come down, how can I come, sae late in the night, And neither coal nor candle, for to shew me light?' The first step she steppit, she steppit on a stane; The next step she steppit, she met the Bauld Rankin. 'O spare my life, Rankin, O spare it most dear! I'll gie you as monie guineas as birds in the air. 'O spare my life, Rankin, O save it most sweet! I'll gie you as monie guineas as there's stanes in the street.' 'I wish my wife and bairns may be all well at hame; For the buttons on my waistcoat they winna bide on. 'I wish my wife and family may be all well at home; For the rings upon my fingers they winna bide on.' He has kindled a big bane-fire, in the middle o the closs, And he has burned Bauld Rankin, likewise the fause nurse.

was as guid a mason as ever did use stane; He biggit Lord Murray's house, an payment neer got nane. It fell ance on a day Lord Murray went frae hame, An Lankin came to the fause nourice, . . . . . 'O still my bairn, nourice, still him wi the knife:' 'He winna still, lady, Tho I should lay down my life.' 'O still my bairn, nurice, still him wi the bell:' 'He winna still, lady, till ye come down yersel.' The first [step she steppit], she came on the marble stane; The next step [she steppit], she met him Lankin. 'O spare my life, Lankin, an I'll gie ye a peck o goud; An that dinna please ye, I'll heap it wi my hand.' 'O will I kill the lady, nurice, or will I lat her be?' 'O kill her, Lankin, she was never guid to me.' 'O wanted ye yer meat, nurice? or wanted ye yer fee? Or wanted ye the othir bounties ladys are wont to gie?' . . . . . . . . . . 'O kill her, Lankin, she was never guid to me.' 'Gae wash a bason, nurice, an ye wash it clean, To cape this ladie's blood; she is come o high kine.' 'I winna wash a bason, nor will I wash it clean, To cape this ladie's blood, tho she's come o high kine.' Bonny sang yon bird, as he sat upon the tree, But sare grat Lankin. for he was hangit hie. Bonny sang the bird, that sat upon the hill, But sare grat the nurice, whan the caudron gan to boil. . . . . . Lankin was hangit hie, And the fause nourice burnt in the caudron was she.

O was as good a mason as ever bigget stane; He's bigget Lord Erley's castle, but money he got nane. It fell out upon a time Lord Earley went from home; He left his lady in his castle, but and his young son. 'Where is the lord o this house, that calls me Lammikin?' 'He's on the sea sailing, he will not come home.' 'Where are the men o this house, that call me Lammikin?' 'They are at the barn threshing, they will not come in.' 'Where are the maids of this house, that call me Lammikin?' 'They are at the well washing, they will not come in.' 'Where is the lady o this house, that calls me Lammikin?' 'She's in her room shewing, she will not come down.' 'How shall we contrive for to make her come down?' 'We'll stick her dear infant, and make her come down.' O Lammikin he rocket, and the fause nurice sung, While out o the cradle the infant's blude sprung. 'O still my bairn, nurice,' the lady did cry: 'He will not still, lady, for you nor for I.' 'O still my bairn, nurice, still him wi the wan:' 'He will not still, lady, for a' his father's lan.' 'Oh still my bairn, nurice, still him wi the keys:' 'Oh he winna still, lady, for a' his father's leys.' 'Oh still my bairn, nurice, still him wi the bell:' 'Oh he winna still, lady, till ye come down yersell.' The firsten step that lady stepped, it was upon a stone; The nexten step that lady stepped, she saw him Lammikin. The nexten step that lady stepped was in her own child's blood, . . . . . . . . . . 'Oh will I kill her, nurice, or will I let her be?' 'Kill her, dear Lammikin, she was never gude to me.' 'Oh wanted you meat, nurice? or wanted you fee? Or wanted you anything that a lady can gie?' 'I wanted no meat, lady, nor wanted I fee, But I wanted mony a thing that a lady could gie.'

lord said to my lady, when he went from home, Take care of Long Longkin, he lies in the lone. My lady said to my lord, when he went abroad, . . . . . . . . . . 'I care not for Longkin, nor none of his kin, For my gate's fast barrd, and my windows shut in.' My lord was not gone many miles from the place, Until the false Longkin came straight to the place. 'Pinch the bairn, nourry, pinch it very sore, Untill the mother shall come down below.' 'Still the bairn, nury, still it with the pap:' 'It wont be stilld, madam, with neither this nor that.' 'Still the bairn, nury, still it with a bell:' 'It wont be stilld, madam, till you cum down yoursell.' 'Come down, Lady Betty, the flower of all your kin, And see your mother's heart's blood, so freely running. Down came Lady Betty, her heart full of woe: 'Oh take my life, Longkin, and let my mother go.' 'Come down, Lady Nelly, the flower of all your kin, And see your sister's heart's blood, so freely running.' Down came Lady Nelly, her heart full of woe: 'Oh take my life, Longkin, and let my sister go.' 'Come down, Lady Jenny, etc.

'O 'S the men of this house?' quo the Lamkin: 'They're in the barn threshing,' quo the false nurse within. 'O where's the women of the house?' quo the Lamkin: 'They're at the well washing,' quo the false nurse within. 'O where's the lord of this house?' quo the Lamkin: 'He's in the wood hunting,' quo the false nurse within. 'O where's the lady of the house?' quo the Lamkin: 'She's in her bower dressing,' quo the false nurse within. 'O please my babie, nourrice, O please him with the keys:' 'He'll no be pleased, madam, let me do what I please.' 'O please my babie, nourrice, O please him with the bell:' 'He'll no be pleased, madam, till ye come down yoursell.' There was blood in the chaumer, and blood in the ha, And blood in his ladie's room, which he liked warst of a'.

it fell out upon a day Lord Wearie was to gae frae hame, And he has left his lady gay In his castell to stay her lane. Lamkin rocked, and fausse nourice sang, And a' the four tors o the cradle red blood sprang. 'O still my bairn, nourice, O still him wi the wan: 'He winna still, lady, for a' his father's lan.' 'O still my bairn, nourice, O still him wi the keys: 'He winna still, lady, for a' his father's leys.' 'O still my bairn, nourice, O still him wi the pap:' 'He winna still, lady, for this nor for that.' 'O still my bairn, nourice, O still him wi the bell: 'He winna still, lady, untill ye cum down yersell.' The firsten step she steppet, she stepped on a stane, And the nexten step she stepped, she keppit him fause Lamkin. The thirden step she steppit, she saw her young son's red blood run on, . . . . . . . . . . 'Ye've killed my bairn, Lamkin, but lat mysell be; Ye'se be as weel payit a mason as was ever payd a fee.'

was as gude a mason as ever biggit stone; He biggit Laird Earie's house, and payment he got none. O it fell ance upon a day Laird Earie went from home, And Lamkin came cravin his lady alone. 'O far's the laird o this place? O neerice, tell me:' 'He's on the sea sailin, O Lamkin,' said she. 'O far's the lady o this place? neerice, tell me:' 'She's up the stair dressin, O Lamkin,' said she. 'O far's the bairns o this place? neerice, tell me:' 'The're at the scheel. . O Lamkin,' said she. 'O will I get a word o her, neerice?' said he. The first step that lady steppet she steppd on a stone; The next step that lady stept she met wi Lamkin. Ere the basin was washen, or haf made clean, The ladie's heart-bleed was rinnin in the reem.

' have two bright diamonds, as bright as the stars, Put one on each finger, they'll show you doun stairs.' The first step this lady took, she dreaded no harm; But the second step this lady took, she was in Lammikin's arms. 'Will I kill her, nursie, or will I let her be?' 'Oh yes, kill her, Lammikin, she was never gude to me.' 'How can [ye] say so, nursie? how can ye say so? For your head neer did ache but my heart it was sore. 'Oh spare my life, nursie, oh spare my life, spare; Ye'll have as mony gowd guineas as there's birds in the air. 'O spare my life, nursie, till my lord comes back; Ye'll have as mony gowd guineas as the fou of a sack.' 'Oh yes kill her and. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 'Go scour the silver basin, go scour it fine, For our lady's heart's blude is gentle to tine. 'Go scour the silver skewer, oh scour it richt fine, For our lady's heart's blude is gentle to tine.'

A mason than Lammikin nevir builded wi the stane, Wha builded Lord Weire's castill, but wages nevir gat nane. They stecked doors, they stecked yates, close to the cheik and the chin; They stecked them a' but a little wickit, and Lammikin crap in. 'Now where's the lady of this castle? nurse, tell to Lammikin:' 'She's sewing up intill her bowir,' the fals nourrice she sung. 'What sall we do, what sall we say, to gar her cum there down?' 'We'll nip the baby in the cradle, the fals nourrice she sung. Lammikin nipped the bonie babe, while loud fals nourice sings; Lammikin nipped the bony babe, while hich the red blude springs. 'O gentil nourice, please my babe, O please him wi the keys:' 'He'll no be pleased, gay lady, gin I'd sit on my knees.' 'Gude gentil nourice, please my babe, O please him wi a knife:' 'He winna be pleased, mistress myne, gin I wad lay down my lyfe.' 'Sweet nourice, loud, loud cries my babe, O please him wi the bell:' 'He winna be pleased, gay lady, till ye cum down yoursell.'

was as gude a mason as ever hewed a stane; He biggit Lord Weire's castle, but payment gat he nane. 'Where are the lads o this castle?' says the Lammikin: 'They are a' wi Lord Weire, hunting,' the false nourice did sing. 'Where are the lasses o this castle?' says the Lammikin: 'They are a' out at the washing,' the false nourice did sing. 'But where's the lady o this house?' says the Lammikin: 'She is in her bower sewing,' the false nourice did sing. 'Is this the bairn o this house?' says the Lammikin: 'The only bairn Lord Weire aughts,' the false nourice did sing. 'Still my bairn, nourice, O still him if ye can:' 'He will not still, madam, for a' his father's lan.' 'O gentle nourice, still my bairn, O still him wi the keys:' 'He will not still, fair lady, let me do what I please.' 'O still my bairn, kind nourice, O still him wi the ring:' 'He will not still, my lady, let me do any thing.' The first step she stepped, she stepped on a stane; The next step she stepped, she met the Lammikin. 'O nourice, wanted ye your meat? or wanted ye your fee? Or wanted ye for any thing a fair lady could gie?' 'I wanted for nae meat, ladie, I wanted for nae fee; But I wanted for a hantle a fair lady could gie.' 'I wish a' may be weel,' he says, 'wi my ladie at hame; For the rings upon my fingers are bursting in twain.' 'There's bluid in my nursery, there's bluid in my ha, There's bluid in my fair lady's bower, an that's warst of a'.' O sweet, sweet sang the birdie, upon the bough sae hie, But little cared false nourice for that, for it was her gallows-tree.

Sir Guy and his train gaed to hunt the wild boar, He gard bar up his castle, behind and before. And he bade his fair lady guard weel her young son, For wicked Balcanqual great mischief had done. So she closed a' the windows, without and within, But forgot the wee wicket, and Balcanqual crap in. Syne Balcanqual he rocked, and fause nourice sang, Till through a' the cradle the baby's blood sprang. 'O please the bairn, nourice, and please him wi the keys:' 'He'll no be pleased, madam, for a' thet he sees.' And Balcanqual ay rocked, while fause nourice sang, And through a' the cradle the baby's blood ran. 'Please the bairn, nourice, and please him wi the knife:' 'He'll no be pleased, madam, tho I'd gie my life.' And Balcanqual still rocked, and fause nourice sang, While through a' the cradle the baby's blood ran. 'Now please the bairn, nourice, and please him wi the bell:' 'He'll no be pleased, madam, till ye come yoursell.' Down came this fair lady, tripping down the stair, To see her sick bairn, but returned never mair. 'Now scour the bason, Jenny, and scour't very clean, To haad this lady's blood, for she's of noble kin.'

was as brave a builder as eer built a stane, And he built Lord Cassillis house, an for payment he gat nane. My lord said to my lady, when he went abroad, Tak care o fause Lamkin, for he sleeps in the wood.

' is the lord? or is he within?' 'He's gone to New England, to dine with the king.' 'Where is his horses? or where is his men?' 'They're gone to New England, to wait upon him.' 'Where is his lady? or is she within?' 'She's in her bedchamber, all in her lying in.' 'Can I get at her, with thousands of lands? Can I get at her, to make her understand?' 'You cannot get at her, with thousands of lands; You cannot get at her, to make her understand.' 'Lady, come down, and please your child,' . . . . . . . . . . 'Can't you please my child with white bread and breast-wine?' 'O lady, come down, and please him awhile.' 'How can I go down, this cold winter's night, Without a fire in the kitchen, or candle to light?' 'You've got nine bright lamps, just as bright as the king; Lady, come down, and light one of them.' . . . . . . . . . . False Lantin he took her so brave in his arms. Saying, Where is your friend, or where is your foe, That will hold the gold basin, your heart's blood to flow? 'My nurse is not my friend, my nurse is my foe; She'll hold the gold basin, my heart's blood to flow. 'O spare my life for one summer's day, And I'll give you as much money as there's sand in the sea.' 'I'll not spare your life for one summer's day, And I wont have as much money as there's sand in the sea.' 'O spare me my life until one o'clock, And I'll give you Queen Betsie, the flower of the flock.' 'O mama, dear mama, then please him awhile; My dada is coming, he's dressed in great style.' False Lantin he heard the words from the high, Saying, Your mama is dead, and away I will fly. 'O dada, dear dada, do not blame me, 'Tis nurse and false Lantin betrayed your ladie.' 'I'll bury my mama against the wall, And I'll bury my baba, white all, white all.'

my lord and my lady were out walking one day, Says my lord to my lady, Beware of Lamkin. 'O why should I fear him, or any such man, When my doors are well barrd, and my windows well pinnd?' 'O keep your gold and silver, it will do you some good; It will buy you a coffin, when you are dead.' There's blood in the kitchen, and blood in the hall, And the young Mayor of England lies dead by the wall.

I be very sorry to wash a basin clean, To haud my mither's heart's blude, that's comin, an I ken.

And it was weel built, without and within, Except a little hole, to let Bloody Lambkin come in. He stabbed her young son, with the silver bodkin, Till oot o the cradle the reed blude did rin. 'Oh still my babe, nourrice, still him wi the keys:' 'He'll no be still, madam, let me do what I please.' 'Oh still my babe, nourrice, still him wi the knife:' 'He'll no be still, madam, na, no for my life.' 'Oh still my babe, still my babe, still him wi the bell:' 'He'll no be still, madam, till ye come down yoursel.' 'How can I come down, his cold frosty night? I have neither coal nor candle, for to show me light!' 'O haud your tongue, nourrice, sae loud as ye lee; Ye'd neer a cut finger but I pitied thee.'

Lamkin was as good a mason As ever liftit stane; He built to the laird o Lariston, But payment gat he nane. Oft he came, an ay he came, To that good lord's yett, But neither at dor nor window Ony entrance could get. Till ae wae an weary day Early he came, An it fell out on that day That good lord was frae hame. He bade steek dor an window, An prick them to the gin, Nor leave a little wee hole, Else Lamkin wad be in. Noorice steekit dor an window, She steekit them to the gin; But she left a little wee hole That Lamkin might win in. 'O where's the lady o this house?' Said cruel Lamkin; 'She's up the stair sleepin,' Said fause noorice then. 'How will we get her down the stair?' Said cruel Lamkin; 'We'l stogg the baby i the cradle,' Said fause noorice then. He stoggit, and she rockit, Till a' the floor swam, An a' the tors o the cradle Red wi blude ran. 'O still my son, noorise, O still him wi the kane;' 'He winna still, madam, Till Lariston come hame.' 'O still my son, noorice, O still him wi the knife;' 'I canna still him, madam, If ye sude tak my life.' 'O still my soon, noorice, O still him wi the bell;' 'He winna still, madam, Come see him yoursel.' Wae an weary rase she up, Slowly pat her on Her green claethin o the silk, An slowly came she down. The first step she steppit, It was on a stone; The first body she saw Was cruel Lamkin. 'O pity, pity, Lamkin, Hae pity on me!' 'Just as meikle pity, madam, As ye paid me o my fee.' 'I'll g' ye a peck o good red goud, Streekit wi the wand; An if that winna please ye, I'll heap it wi my hand. 'An if that winna please ye, O goud an o fee, I'll g' ye my eldest daughter, Your wedded wife to be.' 'Gae wash the bason, lady, Gae wash't an mak it clean, To kep your mother's heart's-blude, For she's of noble kin.' 'To kep my mother's heart's-blude I wad be right wae; O tak mysle, Lamkin, An let my mother gae.' 'Gae wash the bason, noorice, Gae wash't an mak it clean, To kep your lady's heart's-blude, For she's o noble kin.' 'To wash the bason, Lamkin, I will be right glad, For mony, mony bursen day About her house I've had.' But oh, what dule an sorrow Was about that lord's ha, When he fand his lady lyin As white as driven snaw! O what dule an sorrow Whan that good lord cam in, An fand his young son murderd, I the chimley lyin!

Lie in your room, my wife, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 'You'll fasten doors and windows, you'll fasten them out an in, For if you leave ae window open Lammikin will come in.' They've fastened doors an windows, they've fastened them out an in, But they have left ae window open, and Lammikin cam in. 'O where are a' the women that dwell here within?' 'They're at the well washin, and they will not come in.' 'O where are a' the men that dwell here within?' 'They're at the. . . ., and they will not come in.' 'O where is the lady that dwells here within?' 'She's up the stair dressin, and she will not come doun.' 'It's what will we do to mak her come doun? We'll rock the cradle, nourrice, an mak her come doun.' They [hae] rocked the cradle to mak her come doun, . . . . . . the red bluid out sprung. 'O still the bairn, nourrice, O still him wi the bell:; 'He winna still, my lady, till ye come doun yersel.' The first step she steppit, it was upon a stane; The next step she steppit, she keppit Lammikin. 'O mercy, mercy, Lammikin, hae mercy upo me! Tho ye hae killed my young son, ye may lat mysel abee.' 'O it's will I kill her, nourrice, or will I lat her be?' 'O kill her, kill her, Lammikin, she neer was gude to me.' 'O it's wanted ye your meat? or wanted ye your fee?' . . . . . . . . . . . . 'I wanted not my meat, I wanted not my fee, But I wanted some bounties That ladies can gie.'