Читать книгу English and Scottish Ballads (Vol. 1-8) - Various Authors - Страница 88

May Marg'ret stood in her bouer door,

Kaiming doun her yellow hair;

She spied some nuts growin in the wud,

And wish'd that she was there.

5 She has plaited her yellow locks

A little abune her bree;

And she has kilted her petticoats

A little below her knee;

And she's aff to Mulberry wud,

10 As fast as she could gae.

She had na pu'd a nut, a nut,

A nut but barely ane,

Till up started the Hynde Etin,

Says, "Lady! let thae alane."

15 "Mulberry wuds are a' my ain;

My father gied them me,

To sport and play when I thought lang;

And they sall na be tane by thee."

And ae she pu'd the tither berrie,

20 Na thinking o' the skaith;

And said, "To wrang ye, Hynde Etin,

I wad be unco laith."

But he has tane her by the yellow locks,

And tied her till a tree,

25 And said, "For slichting my commands,

An ill death shall ye dree."

He pu'd a tree out o' the wud,

The biggest that was there;

And he howkit a cave monie fathoms deep,

30 And put May Marg'ret there.

"Now rest ye there, ye saucie may;

My wuds are free for thee;

And gif I tak ye to mysell,

The better ye'll like me."

35 Na rest, na rest May Marg'ret took,

Sleep she got never nane;

Her back lay on the cauld, cauld floor,

Her head upon a stane.

"O tak me out," May Marg'ret cried,

40 "O tak me hame to thee;

And I sall be your bounden page

Until the day I dee."

He took her out o' the dungeon deep,

And awa wi' him she's gane;

45 But sad was the day an earl's dochter

Gaed hame wi' Hynde Etin.

It fell out ance upon a day,

Hynde Etin's to the hunting gane;

And he has tane wi' him his eldest son,

50 For to carry his game.

"O I wad ask you something, father,

An ye wadna angry be;"—

"Ask on, ask on, my eldest son,

Ask onie thing at me."

55 "My mother's cheeks are aft times weet,

Alas! they are seldom dry;"—

"Na wonder, na wonder, my eldest son,

Tho' she should brast and die.

"For your mother was an earl's dochter,

60 Of noble birth and fame;

And now she's wife o' Hynde Etin,

Wha ne'er got christendame.

"But we'll shoot the laverock in the lift,

The buntlin on the tree;

65 And ye'll tak them hame to your mother,

And see if she'll comforted be."

"I wad ask ye something, mother,

An' ye wadna angry be;"—

"Ask on, ask on, my eldest son,

70 Ask onie thing at me."

"Your cheeks they are aft times weet,

Alas! they're seldom dry;"—

"Na wonder, na wonder, my eldest son,

Tho' I should brast and die.

75 "For I was ance an earl's dochter,

Of noble birth and fame;

And now I am the wife of Hynde Etin,

Wha ne'er got christendame."