Читать книгу English and Scottish Ballads (Vol. 1-8) - Various Authors - Страница 112

Clerk Saunders and may Margaret,

Walked ower yon garden green;

And sad and heavy was the love

That fell thir twa between.

"A bed, a bed," Clerk Saunders said,5

"A bed for you and me!"—

"Fye na, fye na," said may Margaret,

"Till anes we married be;

"For in may come my seven bauld brothers,

Wi' torches burning bright;10

They'll say—'We hae but ae sister,

And behold she's wi' a knight!'"—

"Then take the sword from my scabbard,

And slowly lift the pin;

And you may swear, and safe your aith,15

Ye never let Clerk Saunders in.

"And take a napkin in your hand,

And tie up baith your bonny een;

And you may swear, and safe your aith,

Ye saw me na since late yestreen."20

It was about the midnight hour,

When they asleep were laid,

When in and came her seven brothers,

Wi' torches burning red.

When in and came her seven brothers,25

Wi' torches burning bright;

They said, "We hae but ae sister,

And behold her lying with a knight!"

Then out and spake the first o' them,

"I bear the sword shall gar him die!"30

And out and spake the second o' them,

"His father has nae mair than he!"

And out and spake the third o' them,

"I wot that they are lovers dear!"

And out and spake the fourth o' them,35

"They hae been in love this mony a year!"

Then out and spake the fifth o' them,

"It were great sin true love to twain!"

And out and spake the sixth of them,

"It were shame to slay a sleeping man!"40

Then up and gat the seventh o' them,

And never a word spake he;

But he has striped his bright brown brand

Out through Clerk Saunders' fair bodye.

Clerk Saunders he started, and Margaret she turn'd45

Into his arms as asleep she lay;

And sad and silent was the night

That was atween thir twae.

And they lay still and sleeped sound,

Until the day began to daw;50

And kindly to him she did say,

"It is time, true love, you were awa."

But he lay still, and sleeped sound,

Albeit the sun began to sheen;

She looked atween her and the wa',55

And dull and drowsie were his een.

Then in and came her father dear,

Said—"Let a' your mourning be:

I'll carry the dead corpse to the clay,

And I'll come back and comfort thee."—60

"Comfort weel your seven sons,

For comforted will I never be:

I ween 'twas neither knave nor loon

Was in the bower last night wi' me."—

20. In Kinloch's version of this ballad we have an additional stanza here:—

——"Ye'll take me in your arms twa,

Ye'll carry me into your bed,

And ye may swear, and save your aith,

That in your bour floor I ne'er gae'd."