Читать книгу English and Scottish Ballads (Vol. 1-8) - Various Authors - Страница 162

Table of Contents

Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 110.

Like the two which preceded it, this ballad is common to the Gothic nations. It exists in a great variety of forms. Two stanzas, recovered by Burns, were printed in Johnson's Museum, i. 337; two others were inserted by Jamieson, in his Illustrations, p. 319. The Border Minstrelsy furnished five stanzas, giving the story, without the bequests. Allan Cunningham's alteration of Scott's version, (Scottish Songs, i. 285,) has one stanza more. Kinloch procured from the North of Scotland the following complete copy.

In the Appendix, we have placed a nursery song on the same subject, still familiar in Scotland, and translations of the corresponding German and Swedish ballads—both most remarkable cases of parallelism in popular romance.

Lord Donald, as Kinloch remarks, would seem to have been poisoned by eating toads prepared as fishes. Scott, in his introduction to Lord Randal, has quoted from an old chronicle, a fabulous account of the poisoning of King John by means of a cup of ale, in which the venom of this reptile had been infused.

"O whare hae ye been a' day, Lord Donald, my son?

O whare hae ye been a' day, my jollie young man?"

"I've been awa courtin':—mither, mak my bed sune,

For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."

"What wad ye hae for your supper, Lord Donald, my son?5

What wad ye hae for your supper, my jollie young man?"

"I've gotten my supper:—mither, mak my bed sune,

For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."

"What did ye get for your supper, Lord Donald, my son?

What did ye get for your supper, my jollie young man?"10

"A dish of sma' fishes:—mither, mak my bed sune,

For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."

"Whare gat ye the fishes, Lord Donald, my son?

Whare gat ye the fishes, my jollie young man?"

"In my father's black ditches:—mither, mak my bed sune,15

For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."

"What like were your fishes, Lord Donald, my son?

What like were your fishes, my jollie young man?"

"Black backs and spreckl'd bellies:—mither, mak my bed sune,

For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."20

"O I fear ye are poison'd, Lord Donald, my son!

O I fear ye are poison'd, my jollie young man!"

"O yes! I am poison'd:—mither mak my bed sune,

For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."

"What will ye leave to your father, Lord Donald my son?25

What will ye leave to your father, my jollie young man?"

"Baith my houses and land:—mither, mak my bed sune,

For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."

"What will ye leave to your brither, Lord Donald, my son?

What will ye leave to your brither, my jollie young man?"30

"My horse and the saddle:—mither, mak my bed sune,

For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."

"What will ye leave to your sister, Lord Donald, my son?

What will ye leave to your sister, my jollie young man?"

"Baith my gold box and rings:—mither, mak my bed sune,35

For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."

"What will ye leave to your true-love, Lord Donald, my son?

What will ye leave to your true-love, my jollie young man?"

"The tow and the halter, for to hang on yon tree,

And lat her hang there for the poysoning o' me."40