The English and Scottish Popular Ballads/Part 8/Chapter 231

was a jury sat at Perth, In the merry month of May, Betwixt the noble Duke of Perth But and Sir Gilbert Hay. My lord Kingside has two daughters, They are proper, straight and tall; But my lord Carnegie he has two That far excells them all. Then Errol he has dressd him, As very well he could; I'm sure there was not one cloth-yard But what was trimmed with gold. 'Ane asking, ane asking, my lord Carnegie, Ane asking I've to thee; I'm come to court your daughter Jean, My wedded wife to be.' 'My daughter Jean was wed yestreen, To one of high degree, But where Jean got one guinea of gold With Kate I'll give thee three. 'Full fifteen hundred pounds Had Jean Carnegie, But three fifteen hundred pounds With Kate I'll gie to thee.' Then Errol he has wed her, And fairly brought her hame; There was nae peace between them twa Till they sundered oer again. When bells were rung, and mess was sung, And a' man bound to bed, The Earl of Errol and his countess In one chamber was laid. Early in the morning My lord Carnegie rose, The Earl of Errol and his countess, And they've put on their clothes. Up spake my lord Carnegie; 'Kate, is your toucher won?' 'Ye may ask the Earl of Errol, If he be your good-son. 'What need I wash my petticoat And hing it on a pin? For I am as leal a maid yet As yestreen when I lay down. 'What need I wash my apron And hing it on the door? It's baith side and wide enough, Hangs even down before.' Up spake my lord Carnegie; 'O Kate, what do ye think? We'll beguile the Earl of Errol As lang as he's in drink.' 'O what will ye beguile him wi? Or what will ye do than? I'll swear before a justice-court That he's no a sufficient man.' Then Errol he cam down the stair, As bold as oney rae: 'Go saddle to me my Irish coach, To Edinbro I'll go.' When he came to Edinbro, He lighted on the green; There were four-and-twenty maidens A' dancing in a ring. There were four-and-twenty maidens A' dancing in a row; The fatest and the fairest To bed wi him must go. He's taen his Peggy by the hand, And he led her thro the green, And twenty times he kissd her there, Before his ain wife's een. He's taen his Peggy by the hand, And he's led her thro the hall, And twenty times he's kissd her there, Before his nobles all. 'Look up, look up, my Peggy lass, Look up, and think nae shame; Ten hundred pounds I'll gie to you To bear to me a son.' He's keepit his Peggy in his room Three quarter of a year, And just at the nine months' end She a son to him did bear. 'Now if ye be Kate Carnegie, And I Sir Gilbert Hay, I'll make your father sell his lands Your toucher for to pay.' 'To make my father sell his lands, It wad be a great sin, To toucher oney John Sheephead That canna toucher win.' 'Now hold your tongue, ye whorish bitch, Sae loud as I hear ye lie! For yonder sits Lord Errol's son, Upon his mother's knee; For yonder sits Lord Errol's son, Altho he's no by thee.' 'You may take hame your daughter Kate, And set her on the glen; For Errol canna please her, Nor nane o Errol's men; For Errol canna please her, Nor twenty of his men.' The ranting and the roving, The thing we a' do ken, The lady lost her right that night, The first night she lay down; And the thing we ca the ranting o 't, The lady lies her lane.

is a bonny place, It stands upon yon plain; The greatest faut about the place Earell's no a man. What ye ca the danting o 't, According as ye ken, For the pearting. . . Lady Earell lyes her lane. Earell is a bonny place, It stands upon yon plain; The roses they graw red an white, An apples they graw green. 'What need I my apron wash An hing upon yon pin? For lang will I gae out an in Or I hear my bairnie's din. 'What need I my apron wash An hing upo yon door? For side and wide is my petticoat, An even down afore. 'But I will lace my stays again, My middle jimp an sma; I'l gae a' my days a maiden, [Awa], Earell, awa!' It fell ance upon a day Lord Earell Went to hunt him lane, . . . . . . . He was na a mile fra the town, Nor yet sae far awa, Till his lady is on to Edinburgh, To try hir all the law. Little did Lord Earell think, Whan he sat down to dine, That his lady was on to Edinburgh, Nor what was in her mind. Till his best servant came For to lat him ken . . . . . . . She was na in at the toun-end, Nor yet sae far awa, Till Earell was at her back, His gaudy locks to sha. She was na in at the loan-head, Nor just at the end, Till Earell he was at her back, Her errand for to ken. As lang as they ca ye Kate Carnegie, An me Sir Gilbert Hay, I's gar yer father sell Kinaird, Yer tocher for to pay.' 'For to gar my father sell Kinnaird, It wad be a sin, To gee it to ony naughty knight That a tocher canna win.' Out spak the first lord, The best amang them a'; 'I never seed a lady come Wi sick matters to the law.' Out spak the neest lord, The best o the town; 'Ye get fifteen well-fared maids, An put them in a roun, An Earell in the midst o them, An lat him chuse out ane.' They ha gotten fifteen well-fared maids, An pit them in a roun, An Earell in the mids o them, An bad him chuse out ane. He viewed them a' intill a raw, Even up and down, An he has chosen a well-fared may, An meggie was her name. He took her by the hand, Afore the nobles a', An twenty times he kissed her mou, An led her thro the ha. 'Look up, Megie, look up, Megie, [Look up,] an think na shame; As lang as ye see my gaudy locks, Lady Earell's be yer name.' There were fifteen noblemen, An as mony laides gay, To see Earell proven a man . . . . 'Ye tak this well-fared may, And keep her three roun raiths o a year, An even at the three raiths' end I sall draw near.' They hae taen that well-fared may, An keepd her three roun raiths o a year, And even at the three raiths' end Earell's son she bare. The gentlemen they ga a shout, The ladies ga a caa, Fair mat fa him Earell! But ran to his lady. He was na in at the town-head, Nor just at the end, Till the letters they were waiting him That Earell had a son. 'Look up, Meggie, look up, Meggie, [Look up,] an think na shame; As lang as ye see my bra black hat, Lady Earell's be yer name. 'I will gie my Meggie a mill, But an a piece o land, . . . . To foster my young son. 'Faur is a' my merry men a', That I pay meat an gaire, To convey my Meggy hame, . . . ?' . . . . . . Even in Lord Earell's coach They conveyed the lassie hame. 'Take hame yer daughter, Lord Kinnaird, An take her to the glen, For Earell canna pleas her, Earell nor a' his men.' 'Had I ben Lady Earell, Of sic a bonny place, I wad na gaen to Edinburgh My husband to disgrace.'

it's a bonny place, It stands upon a plain; A bad report this ladie's raisd, That Erroll is nae a man. But it fell ance upon a day Lord Erroll went frae hame, And he is on to the hunting gane, Single man alane. But he hadna been frae the town A mile but barely twa, Till his lady is on to Edinburgh, To gain him at the law. O Erroll he kent little o that Till he sat down to dine, And as he was at dinner set His servant loot him ken. 'Now saddle to me the black, the black, Go saddle to me the brown, And I will on to Edinburgh, Her errands there to ken.' She wasna well thro Aberdeen, Nor passd the well o Spa, Till Erroll he was after her, The verity to shaw. She wasna well in edinburgh, Nor even thro the town, Till Erroll he was after her, Her errands there to ken. When he came to the court-house, And lighted on the green, This lord was there in time enough To hear her thus compleen: 'What needs me wash my apron, Or drie 't upon a door? What needs I eek my petticoat, Hings even down afore? 'What needs me wash my apron, Or hing it upon a pin? For lang will gang but and ben Or I hear my young son's din.' 'They ca you Kate Carnegie,' he says, 'And my name's Gilbert Hay; I'll gar your father sell his land, Your tocher down to pay.' 'To gar my father sell his land For that would be a sin, To such a noughtless heir as you, That canno get a son.' Then out it speaks him Lord Brechen, The best an lord ava; 'I never saw a lady come Wi sic matters to the law.' Then out it speaks another lord, The best in a' the town; 'Ye'll wyle out fifeteen maidens bright Before Lord Erroll come:' And he has chosen a tapster lass, And Meggie was her name. They kept up this fair maiden Three quarters of a year, And then at that three quarters' end A young son she did bear. They hae gien to Meggie then Five ploughs but and a mill, And they hae gien her five hundred pounds, For to bring up her chill. There was no lord in Edinburgh But to Meggie gae a ring; And there was na a boy in a' the town But on Katie had a sang. 'Kinnaird, take hame your daughter, And set her to the glen, For Erroll canna pleasure her, Nor nane o Erroll's men.' Seven years on Erroll's table There stand clean dish and speen, And every day the bell is rung, Cries, Lady, come and dine.

O 'rrS place is a bonny place, It stands upon yon plain; The flowers on it grow red and white, The apples red and green. The ranting o 't and the danting o 't, According as ye ken, The thing they ca the danting o 't, Lady Errol lies her lane. O Errol's place is a bonny place, It stands upon yon plain; But what's the use of Errol's place? He's no like other men. 'As I cam in by yon canal, And by yon bowling-green, I might hae pleased the best Carnegy That ever bore that name. 'As sure 's your name is Kate Carnegy, And mine is Gibbie Hay, I'll gar your father sell his land, Your tocher for to pay.' 'To gar my father sell his land, Would it not be a sin, To give it to a naughtless lord That couldna get a son?' Now she is on to Edinburgh, For to try the law, And Errol he has followed her, His manhood for to shaw. Then out it spake her sister, Whose name was Lady Jane; 'Had I been Lady Errol,' she says, 'Or come of sic a clan, I would not in the public way Have sham'd my own gudeman.' But Errol got it in his will To choice a maid himsel, And he has taen a country-girl, Came in her milk to sell. He took her by the milk-white hand, And led her up the green, And twenty times he kissd her there, Before his lady's een. He took her by the milk-white hand, And led her up the stair; Says, Thrice three hundred pounds I'll gie To you to bear an heir. He kept her there into a room Three quarters of a year, And when the three quarters were out A braw young son she bear. 'Tak hame your daughter, Carnegy, And put her till a man, For Errol he cannot please her, Nor any of his men.'

O it's a bonny place, It stands in yonder glen; The lady lost the rights of it The first night she gaed hame. A waly and a waly! According as ye ken, The thing we ca the ranting o 't, Our lady lies her lane, O. 'What need I wash my apron, Or hing it on yon door? What need I truce my petticoat? It hangs even down before.' Errol's up to Edinburgh gaen, That bonny burrows-town; He has chusit the barber's daughter, The top of a' that town. He has taen her by the milk-white hand, He has led her through the room, And twenty times he's kisst her, Before his lady's een. 'Look up, look up now, Peggy, Look up, and think nae shame, For I'll gie thee five hundred pound, To buy to thee a gown. 'Look up, look up, now, Peggy, Look up, and think nae shame, For I'll gie thee five hundred pound To bear to me a son. 'As thou was Kate Carnegie, And I Sir Gilbert Hay, I'll gar your father sell his lands, Your tocher-gude to pay. 'Now he may take her back again, Do wi her what he can, For Errol canna please her, Nor ane o a' his men.' 'Go fetch to me a pint of wine, Go fill it to the brim, That I may drink my gude lord's health, Tho Errol be his name.' She has taen the glass into her hand, She has putten poison in, She has signd it to her dorty lips, But neer a drop went in. Up then spake a little page, He was o Errol's kin; 'Now fie upon ye, lady gay, There's poison there within. 'It's hold your hand now, Kate,' she says, 'Hold it back again, For Errol winna drink on 't, Nor none o a' his men.' She has taen the sheets into her arms, She has thrown them oer the wa: 'Since I maun gae maiden hame again, Awa, Errol, awa!' She's down the back o the garden, And O as she did murne! 'How can a workman crave his wage, When he never wrought a turn?'

O is a bonny place, And stands upon yon plane, But the lady lost the rights o it Yestreen or she came hame. O Erroll is a bonny place, And lyes forenent the sun, And the apples they grow red and white, And peers o bonny green. 'I nedna wash my apron, Nor hing it on the door; But I may tuck my petticoat, Hangs even down before. 'Oh, Erroll, Erroll, Oh, Erroll if ye ken, Why should I love Erroll, Or any of his men?' She's turned her right and round about, Poured out a glass o wine; Says, I will drink to my true love, He'll drink to me again. O Erroll stud into the fleer, He was an angry man: 'See here it is a good gray-hun, We'll try what is the run.' Then Erroll stud into the fleer, Steered neither ee nor bree, Till that he saw his good gray-hun Was burst and going free. 'But ye are Kate Carnegie,' he said, 'And I am Sir Gilbert Hay; I'se gar your father sell Kinnaird, Your tocher-good to pay.' Now she is on to Edinburgh, A' for to use the law, And brave Erroll has followed her, His yellow locks to sheu. Out and spak her sister Jean, And an angry woman was she; 'If I were lady of Erroll, And hed as fair a face, I would no go to Edinburgh, My good lord to disgrace.'