O whan fifteen weeks was come and gane, That lassie began to look thin and pale, A' merrilie riding bye. "Weel may ye save an' see, bonny may, Weel I wat, ye be a very bonny may, For never a ane could she blame, "Ye lied, ye lied, my very bonny may, For dinna ye mind that misty night "I ken you by your middle sae jimp, An' your merry-twinkling ee, That ye're the bonny lass i' the Cowdenknow, Then he's leapt off his berry-brown steed, LORD RANDAL. There is a beautiful air to this old ballad. The hero is more generally termed Lord Ronald; but I willingly follow the authority of an Ettrick Forest copy for calling him Randal; because, though the circumstances are so very different, I think it not impossible, that the ballad may have originally regarded the death of Thomas Randolph, or Randal, Earl of Murray, nephew to Robert Bruce, and governor of Scotland. This great warrior died at Musselburgh, 1332, at the moment when his services were most necessary to his country, already threatened by an English army. For this sole reason, perhaps, our historians obstinately impute his death to poison. See The Bruce, Book xx. Fordun repeats, and Boece echoes, this story, both of whom charge the murder on Edward III. But it is combated successfully by Lord Hailes, in his Remarks on the History of Scotland. food, or putting it into liquor, was anciently supposed to be a common mode of administering poison; as appears from the following curious account of the death of King John, extracted from a MS. Chronicle of England, penes John Clerk, Esq. advocate." And, in the same tyme, the pope sente into Englond a legate, that men cald Swals, and he was prest cardinal of Rome, for to mayntene King Johnes cause agens the barons of Englond; but the barons had so much pte [poustie, i. e. power] through Lewys, the kinges sone of Fraunce, that Kinge Johne wist not wher for to wend ne gone: and so hitt fell, that he wold have gone to Suchold, and as he went thedurward, he come by the abbey of Swinshed, and ther he abode II dayes. And, as he sate at meat, he askyd a monke of the house, how moche a lofe was worth, that was before hym sete at the table? and the monke sayd that loffe was worthe bot ane halfpenny. 'O!' quod the Kyng, this is a grette cheppe of brede; now,' said the king, and yff I may, such a loffe shall be worth xxd. or half a yer be gone :' and when he said the word, muche he thought, and ofte tymes sighed, and nome and ete of the bred, and said, 'By Gode, the word that I have spokyn shall be sothe.' The monke, that stode before the kyng, was ful sory in his hert; and thought rather he wold himself suffer peteous deth; and thought yff he myght ordeyn therfore sum remedy. And anon the monke went unto his abbott, and was schryvyd of him, and told the abbott all that the kyng said, and prayed his abbott to assoyl him, for he wold gyffe the kyng such a wassayle, that all Englond shuld be glad and joyful therof. Tho went the monke into a gardene, and fonde a tode therin; and toke her upp, and put hyr in a cuppe, and filled it with good ale, and pryked hyr in every place, in the cuppe, till the venome come out in every place; an brought hitt befor the kyng, and knelyd, and said, 'Sir, wassayle; for never in your lyfe drancke ye of such a cuppe.' Begyne, monke,' quod the king; and the monke dranke a gret draute, and toke the kyng the cuppe, and the kyng also drank a grett draute, and set downe the cuppe.-The monke anon went to the Farmarye, and ther dyed anone, on whose soule God have mercy, Amen. And v monkes syng for his soule especially, and shall while the abbey stondith. The kyng was anon ful evil at ese, and comaunded to remove the table, and askyd aftur the monke; and men told him that he was ded, for his wombe was broke in sondur. When the king herd this tidyng, he comaundyd for to trusse; but all hit was for nought, for his bely began to swelle for the drink that he dranke, that he dyed within II days, the moro aftur Seynt Luke's day." A different account of the poisoning of King John is given in a MS. Chronicle of England, written in the minority of Edward III., and contained in the The substitution of some venomous reptile for Auchinleck MS. of Edinburgh. Though not exactly [Mr. Clerk became a judge of the Court of Session by the title of Lord Eldin, and died in 1831.-ED.] "Dansimond zede and gadred frut, The king full fair he grett; 'Sir,' he said, 'by Seynt Austin, Dansimond ete frut, on and on, He gaf King Jon ther his puisoun, He dede, it is nouther for mirthe ne ond, "The King Jon sate at mete, His wombe to wex grete; Hope, for think.- Steles-Stalks. 3 [This nursery song is probably that inserted in Buchan's Collection, 1828, vol. ii. p. 179—“Willie Doo," i. e. dove : "Where hae ye been a' day, Willie Doo, Willie Doo? Whare hae ye been a' day, "I've been to see my stepmother, Mak my bed, lay me down; Mak my bed, lay me down, Die shall I now," etc.-ED.] He swore his oath, per la croyde, Y wis he had an evel fine." Shakspeare, from such old Chronicles, has drawn his authority for the last fine scene in King John. But he probably had it from Caxton, who uses nearly the words of the prose chronicle. Hemingford tells the same tale with the metrical historian. It is certain, that John increased the flux, of which he died, by the intemperate use of peaches and of ale, which may have given rise to the story of the poison.-See MATTHEW PARIS. To return to the ballad; there is a very similar song, in which, apparently to excite greater interest in the nursery, the handsome young hunter is exchanged for a little child, poisoned by a false stepmother. 3 For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."— "Where gat ye your dinner, Lord Randal, my son ? Where gat ye your dinner, my handsome young man?" "I dined wi' my true-love; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down.""What gat ye to your dinner, Lord Randal, my son? What gat ye to your dinner, my handsome young man?" "I gat eels boil'd in broo; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down.""What became of your bloodhounds, Lord Randal, my son ? What became of your bloodhounds, my handsome young man ?" "O they swell'd and they died; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie do wn.” "O I fear ye are poison'd, Lord Randal, my sun! OI fear ye are poisoned, my handsome young man!”. "O yes! I am poison'd; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie down."4 [In the edition of this ballad published by Mr. Kinloch in 4827, the name of the hero is Lord Donald-very natural in a north country version. The youth is poisoned by a dish of toads, served up as fish, to which the Editor thinks we owe the Scotch phrase, of "getting frogs for fish "'—i. e. foul play-introduced in the subsequent ballad of Katharine Janfarie. The last verse is— "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 let her hang there for the poysoning o' me."-P. 443.—ED.] SIR HUGH LE BLOND. This ballad is a northern composition, and seems to have been the original of the legend called Sir Aldingar, which is printed in the Reliques of Ancient Poetry. The incidents are nearly the same in both ballads, excepting that, in Aldingar, an angel combats for the queen, instead of a mortal champion. The names of Aldingar and Rodingham approach near to each other in sound, though not in orthography, and the one might, by reciters, be easily substituted for the other. I think I have seen both the name and the story in an ancient prose chronicle, but am unable to make any reference in support of my belief. The tradition, upon which the ballad is founded, is universally current in the Mearns; and the Editor is informed, that, till very lately, the sword, with which Sir Hugh le Blond was believed to have defended the life and honour of the Queen, was carefully preserved by his descendants, the Viscounts of Arbuthnot. That Sir Hugh of Arbuthnot lived in the thirteenth century, is proved by his having, 1282, bestowed the patronage of the church of Garvoch upon the Monks of Aberbrothwick, for the safety of his soul.-Register of Aberbrothwick, quoted by Crawford in Peerage. But I find no instance in history, in which the honour of a Queen of Scotland was committed to the chance of a duel. It is true, that Mary, wife of Alexander II., was, about 1242, some what implicated in a dark story, concerning the murder of Patrick, Earl of Athole, burned in his lodging at Haddington, where he had gone to attend a great tournament. The relations of the deceased baron accused of the murder Sir William Bisat, a powerful nobleman, who appears to have been in such high favour with the young Queen, that she offered her oath, as a compurgator, to prove his innocence. Bisat himself stood upon his defence, and proffered the combat to his accusers; but he was obliged to give way to the tide, and was banished from Scotland. This affair interested all the northern barons; and it is not impossible, that some share, taken in it by this Sir Hugh de Arbuthnot, may have given a slight foundation for the tradition of the country.-WINTOUN, book vii. ch. 9. Or, if we suppose Sir Hugh le Blond to be a predecessor of the Sir Hugh who flourished in the thirteenth century, he may have been the victor in a duel, shortly noticed as having occurred in 1154, when' one Arthur, accused of treason, was unsuccessful in his appeal to the judgment of God. Arthurus regem Malcolm proditurus duello periit. Chron. Sanctæ Crucis, ap. Anglia Sacra, vol. i. p. 161. But, true or false, the incident narrated in the ballad is in the genuine style of chivalry. Romances abound with similar instances, nor are they Such an oath is still taken by the Knights of the Bath; but, I believe, few of that honourable brotherhood will now consider it quite so obligatory as the conscientious Lord Herbert of Cherbury, who gravely alleges it as a sufficient reason for having challenged wanting in real history. The most solemn part of a knight's oath was to defend "all widows, orphelines, and maidens of gude fame."-LINDSAY'S Heraldry, MS. The love of arms was a real passion of itself, which blazed yet more fiercely when united with the enthusiastic admiration of the fair sex. The Knight of Chaucer exclaims, with chivalrous energy, "To fight for a lady! a benedicite! It was an argument, seriously urged by Sir John of Heinault, for making war upon Edward II. in behalf of his banished wife, Isabella, that knights were bound to aid, to their uttermost power, all distressed damsels, living without counsel or comfort. An apt illustration of the ballad would have been the combat undertaken by three Spanish champions against three Moors of Grenada, in defence of the honour of the Queen of Grenada, wife to Mahommed Chiquito, the last monarch of that kingdom. But I have not at hand Las Guerras Civiles de Granada, in which that achievement is recorded. Raymond Berenger, Count of Barcelona, is also said to have defended, in single combat, the life and honour of the Empress Matilda, wife of the Emperor Henry V., and mother to Henry II. of England.-See ANTONIO ULLOA, del vero Honore Militare, Venice, 1569. A less apocryphal example is the duel, fought in 1387, betwixt Jaques le Grys and John de Carogne, before the King of France. These warriors were retainers of the Earl of Alençon, and originally sworn brothers. John de Carogne went over the sea, for the advancement of his fame, leaving in his castle a beautiful wife, where she lived soberly and sagely. But the devil entered into the heart of Jaques le Grys, and he rode, one morning, from the Earl's house to the castle of his friend, where he was hospitably received by the unsuspicious lady. He requested her to show him the donjon, or keep of the castle, and in that remote and inaccessible tower forcibly violated her chastity. He then mounted his horse, and returned to the Earl of Alençon within so short a space, that his absence had not been perceived. The lady abode within the donjon, weeping bitterly, and exclaiming, "Ah, Jaques! it was not well done thus to shame me! but on you shall the shame rest, if God send my husband safe home!" The lady kept secret this sorrowful deed until her husband's return from his voyage. The day passed, and night came, and the knight went to bed; but the lady would not; for ever she blessed herself, and walked up and down the chamber, studying and musing, until her attendants had retired; and then, throwing herself on her knees before the knight, she showed him all the adventure. Hardly would Ca divers cavaliers, that they had either snatched from a lady her bouquet, or ribbon, or by some discourtesy of similar importance, placed her, as his lordship conceived, in the predicament of a distressed damozell. Fraunce, that were come thyder to se that batayle. The two champyons justed at theyr fyrst metyng, but none of them did hurte other; and after the justes, they lyghted on foote to perfourme theyr batayle, and soo fought valyauntly.-And fyrst John of Carongne was hurt in the thyghe, whereby all his rogne believe the treachery of his companion: but, when convinced, he replied, "Since it is so, lady, I pardon you; but the knight shall die for this villanous deed." Accordingly, Jacques le Grys was accused of the crime in the court of the Earl of Alençon. But, as he was greatly loved of his lord, and as the evidence was very slender, the Earl gave judg-frendes were in grete fere; but, after that, he fought ment against the accusers. Hereupon John Carogne appealed to the Parliament of Paris; which court, after full consideration, appointed the case to be tried by mortal combat betwixt the parties, John Carogne appearing as the champion of his lady. If he failed in his combat, then was he to be hanged, and his lady burnt, as false and unjust calumniators. This combat, under circumstances so very peculiar, attracted universal attention; in so much, that the King of France and his peers, who were then in Flanders collecting troops for an invasion of England, returned to Paris, that so notable a duel might be fought in the royal presence. "Thus," says Froissart, "the Kynge, and his uncles, and the constable, came to Parys. Then the lystes were made in a place called Saynt Katheryne, behinde the Temple. There was so moche people, that it was mervayle to beholde; and on the one side of the lystes there was made gret scaffoldes, that the lordes might the better se the batayle of the ii champions; and so they bothe came to the felde, armed at all peaces, and there eche of them was set in theyr chayre; the Erle of Saynt Poule gouverned John Carongne, and Erle of Alanson's company with Jacques le Grys; and when the knyght entred in to the felde, he came to his wyfe, who was there syttynge in a chayre, covered in blacke, and he sayd to her thus-Dame, by your informacyon, and in your quarrell, I do put my lyfe in adventure, as to fyght with Jacques le Grys; ye knowe, if the cause be just and true.'- Syr,' said the lady, it is as I have sayd; wherefore ye maye fight surely; the cause is good and true.' With those wordes, the knyghte kissed the lady, and toke her by the hande, and then blessed hym, and soo entred into the felde. The lady sate styll in the blacke chayre, in her prayers to God, and to the Vyrgyne Mary, humbly prayenge them, by theyr specyall grace, to send her husband the victory, accordyinge to the ryght. She was in gret hevynes, for she was not sure of her lyfe; for, if her husbande sholde have been discomfyted, she was judged, without remedy, to be brente, and her husbande hanged. I cannot say whether she repented her or not, as the matter was so forwarde, that both she and her husbande were in grete peryll howbeit, fynally, she must as then abyde the adventure. Then these two champyons were set one against another, and so mounted on theyr horses, and behauved them nobly; for they knewe what perteyned to deedes of armes. There were many lordes and knyghtes of so valyauntly, that he bette down his adversary to the erthe, and threst his swerd in his body, and soo slew hym in the felde; and then demanded, if he had done his devoyre or not? and they answered, that he had valyauntly atchieved his batayle. Then Jacques le Grys was delyuered to the hangman of Parys, and he drewe hym to the gybbet of Mountfawcon, and there hanged him up. Then John of Carongne came before the kynge, and kneled downe, and the kynge made him to stand up before hym; and the same daye the kynge caused to be delyvered to hym a thousande franks, and reteyned him to be of his chambre, with a pencyon of ii hundred pounde by vere, durynge the term of his lyfe. Then he thanked the kynge and the lordes, and went to his wyfe, and kissed her; and then they wente togyder to the chyrche of Our Ladye, in Parys, and made theyr offerynge, and then retourned to theyr lodgynges. Then this Sir John of Carongne taryed not longe in Fraunce, but went, with Sir John Boucequant, Syr John of Bordes, and Syr Loys Grat. All these went to se Lamorabaquyn,' of whome, in those dayes, there was moche spekynge." Such was the readiness, with which, in those times, heroes put their lives in jeopardy, for honour and lady's sake. But I doubt whether the fair dames of the present day will think, that the risk of being burnt, upon every suspicion of frailty, would be altogether compensated by the probability, that a husband of good faith, like John de Carogne, or a disinterested champion, like Hugh le Blond, would take up the gauntlet in their behalf. I fear they will rather accord to the sentiment of the hero of an old romance, who expostulates thus with a certain duke :— "Certes, Sir Duke, thou doest unright, Amis and Amelion. I was favoured with the following copy of Sir Hugh le Blond, by K. Williamson Burnet. Esq. of Monboddo, who wrote it down from the recitation of an old woman, long in the service of the Arbuthnot family. Of course, the diction is very much humbled, and it has, in all probability, undergone many corruptions; but its antiquity is indubitable, and the story, though indifferently told, is in itself interesting. It is believed, that there have been many more verses. This name Froissart gives to the famous Mahomet, Emperor of Turkey, called the Great. It is a corruption of his Persia title, Ameer Uddeen Kawn. SIR HUGH LE BLOND. The birds sang sweet as ony bell, The world had not their make,' The Queen she's gone to her chamber, With Rodingham to talk. "I love you well, my Queen, my dame, 'Bove land and rents so clear, And for the love of you, my Queen, Would thole pain most severe.". "If well you love me, Rodingham, I'm sure so do I thee: I love you well as any man, Save the King's fair bodye." "I love you well, my Queen, my dame; 'Tis truth that I do tell : And for to lye a night with you, แ Perhaps I'll take my word again, And may repent the same, If that you'll get a Christian man "Alas! alas!" then cried our Queen, "Alas, and woe to me! There's not a man in all Scotland Will fight with him for me." She breathed unto her messengers, She breathed on her messengers, And there they found Sir Hugh le Blond, When unto him they did unfold The day came on that was to do That dreadful tragedy: Sir Hugh le Blond was not come up "Put on the fire," the monster said; hospitals erected for the reception of lepers, to prevent their mingling with the rest of the community. 3 Plooky-Pimpled. 4 In the romance of Doolin, called La Fleur des Batailles, |