The English and Scottish Popular Ballads/Part 8/Chapter 244

happened once upon a time, When the king he was from home, Sir Fenwick he has stolen his jewels, And laid the blame on James Hatley. James Hatley was in prison strong, A wait he was condemned to die; There was not one in all the court To speak one word for James Hatley. No one but the king's daughter, A wait she loved him tenderlie; She's stolen the keys from her father's head, And gaed and conversed wi James Hatley. 'Come, tell to me noe, James,' she said, 'Come, tell to me if thou hast them stolen, And I'll make a vow, and I'll keep it true, Ye shall never be the worse of me.' 'I have not stolen them, lady,' he said, 'Nor as little it was intended by me; Sir Fenwick he has stolen them himself; A wait he has laid the blame on me.' 'One asking, one asking, father dear, One asking, one asking grant to me, For I never asked one in my life; I am sure you cannot but grant it to me.' 'Weel ask it, weel ask it, daughter dear, Ask it, and it granted shall be; If it should be my hole estate, Naesaid, naesaid, it shall not be.' 'I want none of your gold, father, And I want none of your fee; All that I ask, father dear, It is the life of James Hatley.' 'Weel ask it, weel ask it, daughter dear, Weel ask it, and it answer d shall be; For I'll make a vow, and I'll keep it true, James Hatley shall never hang d be.' 'Another asking, father dear, Another asking grant to me; Let Fenwick and Hatley go [to] the sword, And let them try their verity.' 'Tis weel asked, daughter dear, 'Tis weel asked, and it granted shall be; For eer the morn or twelve o'clock They both at the point of the sword shall be.' James Hatley was fifteen years old, Sir Fenwick he was thirty three; But James lap about, and he struck about, Till he's gaen Sir Fenwick wounds three. 'Hold up, hold, James Hatley,' he cry'd, 'And let my breath go out an; For I have stolen them myself, More shame and disgrace it is to me.' Up and spake an English lord, And O but he spake haughtily! 'I would reather given my whole estates Before ye had not hanged James Hatley.' But up and spake a Scottish lord, And O but he spake boldly! 'I would reather hae foughten among blood to the knees Before ye had hanged James Hatley.' Up and spake the king's eldest son, 'Come hame, James Hatley, and dine wi me; For I've made a vow, I'll keep it true, Ye's be my captain by land and by sea.' Up and spake the king's daughter, 'Come home, James Hatley, and dine wi me; For I've made a vow, I'll keep it true, I'll never marry a man but thee.'

happened once upon a time, When the king he was from home, False Fennick he has stolen his jewels, And laid the blame on James Hately. The day was sett. . And the wind blew shill oer the lea; There was not one in all the court To speak a word for James Hately. James is to the prince's chamber gone, And he's bowd low down on his knee: 'What will ye do for me, my little pretty prince? O what will ye do for your page, James Hately?' . . . . . . . . 'And I will away to my father, the king, And see if your life can sav d be.' Hte prince he's to his father gone, And he's bowed low down on his knee: 'What will ye do for me, my father? O what will ye do for my page, James Hatley?' 'James Hately has my jewels stolen, A Norland lord hath told it to me; James Hately has my jewels stolen, And oer the barras he maun die.' The prince he drew his little brown sword-+--+- It was made of the metal so free-+--+- And he swore he would fight them man by man That would lay the blame on James Hately. Up then spoke the false Fennick, And an ill-spoken man was he; 'James Hately has the king's jewels stolen, . . . . ' The prince he drew his little brown sword-+--+- It was made of the metal so free-+--+- And he's thrust it in false Fennick's side, And given him death-wounds two or three. 'O hold your hand, my little pretty prince, And let my breath go out and in, For spilling of my noble blood And shaming of my noble kin. 'O hold your hand, my little pretty prince, And let my breath go out and in, And there's the key of my coffer, And you'll find the king's jewels lying therein.' 'If this be true,' the king he said, 'If this be true ye tell to me, I will take your lands, false Fennick,' he said, 'And give them all to James Hatley.'

was a fause knicht in the court, And he was fu o treacherie, And he staw the queen's jewels in the nicht, And left the wyte on Jamie O'Lee. The king he wrate a braid letter, And sealed it richt tenderlie, And he sent it to his only son, To come and speak to him speedilie. When he cam afore the king, He kneeled low down on his knee: 'What is your will, my sovereign leige? What is your will? cum tell to me.' 'Jamie O'Lee has my jewels stown, As the English lord tells unto me, And out o Scotland he shall be sent, And sent awa to Germanie.' 'O no, O no,' then said the prince, 'Sic things as that can never be; But get me a man that will take on hand The morn to fecht young Jamie O'Lee.' Syne out and spak the fause Phenix, And oh, he spak richt spitefullie; 'I am the man will tak on han To fecht and conquer Jamie O'Lee.' 'Oh no, oh no,' syne said the prince, 'Sic things as that can never bee, For Jamie O'Lee's no fifteen years auld, And ye, fause Phenix, are thretty three.' The prince he mounted then wi speed, He's aff wi tidings to Jamie O'Lee, Saying, The morn's morning ye maun fecht, Or out o England banisht bee. When Jamie O'Lee the tidings heard, Fast the saut tear blindit his ee; 'I'm saikless o thae jewels,' he said, 'As the bairn that sits on the nourice knee.' Then Phenix munted a scaffold hie, A' for to shaw his veritie; Whilk gart the nobles a' to cry 'A dead man are ye, Jamie O'Lee!' The first straik the fause Phenix gied, He gart the blude rin speedilie; It gart the prince's heart to ache, And cry, Oh, alace for my Jamie O'Lee! Jamie O'Lee he stepped back, Waiting for opportunitie, And wi his sword baith lang and sharp He ran it thro Phenix fause bodie. 'O haud your hand, Jamie O'Lee,' he said, 'And let the breath remain in me, And skail nae mair o my noble blude, 'Tis a great disgrace to my loyaltie.' 'Confess, confess, ye fause Phenix, Confess your faults this day to me; Were there nae mair men in a' England, My ain twa hands your death suld be.' 'Ye were sae great wi king and queen, I thocht I wuld hae banisht thee, And I staw the queen's jewels in the nicht, And left the wyte on Jamie O'Lee.' Syne out and spak the king himsell, Saying, Jamie O'Lee, come hame wi me, And there's no a knicht in a' my court But what at your command sall be. Syne out and spak the queen hersell, Saying, Jamie O'Lee, come hame wi me, And there's no a month in a' the year But changed a brothered ye sall be. Syne out and spak the prince himsell, Saying, Jamie O'Lee, come hame wi me, I hae free lands in a' Scotland, And at your command they a' sall be. 'I thank ye, king, and I thank ye, queen, I thank ye a' nobilitie, But a prince's page I was a' my life, And a prince's page I yet will be.' The king gied him a silk waistcoat, And it was lined wi the taffetie, Wi a band o gowd around his neck, And a prince's page he seems to be.