Ffor if my lord heare one of those words,
Thou must be hanged hye.”

John Steward stood under the castle wall,
And he wrote the words every one;

And he called unto his horssekeeper, "Make ready you my steede;" And soe he did to his chamberlaine, "Make readye then my weed."

And he cast a lease upon his backe,

And he rode to the silver wood,

65

70

And there he sought all about,

About the silver wood.

And there he found him Childe Maurice,

Sitting upon a blocke,

With a silver combe in his hand,

He

Kembing his yellow locke.

sayes,

"how now, how now, Childe Maurice,

Alacke how may this bee?

But then stood by him Childe Maurice,

And sayd these words trulye :

"I do not know your ladye," he said,

"If that I doe her see."

"Ffor thou hast sent her love tokens,

75

80

More now than two or three.

"For thou hast sent her a mantle of greene,

85

As greene as any grasse,

And bade her come to the silver wood,
To hunt with Childe Maurice.

"And by my faith now, Childe Maurice,

The tane of us shall dye;"

"Now by my troth," sayd Childe Maurice, "And that shall not be I."

But he pulled out a bright browne sword,
And dryed it on the grasse,

And soe fast he smote at John Steward,
Iwis he never rest.

Then hee pulled forth his bright browne sword, And dryed itt on his sleeve,

And the first good stroke John Steward stroke, Child Maurice head he did cleeve.

And he pricked it on his swords poynt,

Went singing there beside,

And he rode till he came to the ladye ffaire,
Whereas his ladye lyed.

90

96

100

And sayes, "dost thou know Child Maurice head,

Iff that thou dost it see?

And llap it soft, and kisse itt offt,

Ffor thou lovedst him better than mee."

But when shee looked on Child Maurice head,

Shee never spake words but three:

"I never beare noe child but one,
And you have slain him trulye."

Sayes,
"wicked be my merry men all,
I gave meate, drinke, and clothe;

106

110

But cold they not have holden me,
When I was in all that wrath!

115

"Ffor I have slaine one of the courteousest

knights

That ever bestrode a steede ;

Soe have I done one of the fairest ladyes

That ever ware womans weede."

120

CLERK SAUNDERS. See p. 45.

From Jamieson's Popular Ballads and Songs, i. 83.

"THE following copy was transmitted by Mrs. Arrott of Aberbrothick. The stanzas, where the seven brothers are introduced, have been enlarged from two fragments, which, although very defective in themselves, furnished lines which, when incorporated with the text, seemed to improve it. Stanzas 21 and 22, were written by the editor; the idea of the rose being suggested by the gentleman who recited, but who could not recollect the language in which it was expressed."

The last verses of this ballad resemble the conclusion of Proud Lady Margaret, given in another part of this collection.

CLERK Saunders was an earl's son,

He liv'd upon sea-sand;

May Margaret was a king's daughter,
She liv'd in upper land.

Clerk Saunders was an earl's son,
Weel learned at the scheel;

May Margaret was a king's daughter;
They baith lo'ed ither weel.

Б

20

15

He's throw the dark, and throw the mark,

And throw the leaves o' green;
Till he came to May Margaret's door,
And tirled at the pin.

"O sleep ye, wake ye, May Margaret,
Or are ye the bower within ?"
"O wha is that at my bower door,
Sae weel my name does ken?"

“It's I, Clerk Saunders, your true love,
You'll open and lat me in.

"O will ye to the cards, Margaret,

Or to the table to dine?

Or to the bed, that's weel down spread,
And sleep when we get time."

"I'll no go to the cards,” she says,

"Nor to the table to dine;

But I'll go to a bed, that's weel down spread,

And sleep when we get time.'

They were not weel lyen down,

And no weel fa'en asleep,

When up and stood May Margaret's brethren, Just up at their bed feet.

"O tell us, tell us, May Margaret,

And dinna to us len,

O wha is aught yon noble steed,
That stands your stable in?

"The steed is mine, and it may be thine, To ride whan ye ride in hie

10