  ICospatrick has sent o’er the faem: Cospatrick brought his ladye hame. IIFull seven score ships have come her wi’, The ladye by the grene-wood tree. IIIThere was twal’ and twal’ wi’ baken bread, And twal’ and twal’ wi’ the goud sae red: IVAnd twal’ and twal’ wi’ beer and wine, And twal’ and twal’ wi’ muskadine: VVISweet Willy was a Widow’s son, And at her stirrup he did run. VIIAnd she was clad in the finest pall But aye she let the tears down fall. VIII‘O lady, sits your saddle awry? Or is your steed for you owre high? IX‘Or are you mourning in your tide That you suld be Cospatrick’s bride?’ X‘I am not mourning at this tide That I suld be Cospatrick’s bride: XI‘But I am mourning in my mood That ever I left my mother good. XII‘But, bonny boy, come tell to me What is the custom o’ your countrie?’ XIII‘The custom thereof, my dame,’ he says, ‘Will ill a gentle ladye please. XIV‘Seven King’s daughters has our lord wedded, And seven King’s daughters has our lord bedded: XV‘But he’s cutted their breasts frae their breast-bane, And sent them mourning hame again. XVI‘But when you come to the palace yett His mother a gowden chair will set: XVII‘And be you maid or be you nane, O sit you there till the day be dane. XVIII‘And gin you’re sure that you’re a maid, Ye may gae safely him to wed: XIX‘But gif o’ that ye be na sure, Then hire some damsel o’ your bour.’— XXO when she came to the palace yett, His mother a gowden chair did set: XXIThe bonnie may was tired wi’ ridin’, Gae’d sit her down ere she was bidden. XXIIAnd was she maid or was she nane, She sat in it till the day was dune. XXIIIAnd she’s call’d on her bour-woman, That waiting was into XXIV‘Five thousand marks I’ll gie to thee, To sleep this night with my lord for me.’— XXV[‘But will it for my ladye plead, I’se be the bride in my ladye’s stead.’]— XXVIWhen bells were rung and mass was sayne, And a’ men unto bed were gane, XXVIICospatrick and the bonny maid Into ae chamber they were laid. XXVIII‘Now speak to me, blankets, and speak to me, bed, And speak, thou sheet, inchanted web, XXIX‘And speak, my brown sword, that winna lee Is this a leal maiden that lies by me?’ XXX‘It is not a maid that you hae wedded, But it is a maid that you hae bedded: XXXI‘It is a leal maiden that lies by thee, But not the maiden that it should be.’ XXXIIThen out he sprang o’ his bridal bed, And wrathfully his claiths on did: XXXIIIAnd he has ta’en him through the ha’, And on his mother he did ca’. XXXIV‘I am the most unhappy man That ever was in Christen land: XXXV‘I courted a maiden meik and mild, And I’ve gat but a woman great wi’ child.’— XXXVI‘O stay, my son, into this ha’, And sport ye wi’ your merry men a’. XXXVII‘And I’ll gang to your painted bour, To see how it fares wi’ your paramour.’ XXXVIII |
|
