Now ben did come his father dear,

Wearing a golden band ;

Says, "Is there nae leech in Edinburgh,
Can cure my son from wrang?”

"O leech is come, an' leech is gane,
Yet, father, I'm aye waur;
There's not a leech in Edinbro'
Can death from me debar.

"But be a friend to my wife, father,

Restore to her her own;

Restore to her my morning gift,

Strathboggie and Aboyne.

"It had been gude for my wife, father,

To me she'd born a son;

He would have got my land an' rents,
Where they lie out an' in.

"It had been gude for my wife, father,
To me she'd born an heir;

He would have got my land an' rents,
Where they lie fine an' fair.”

The steeds they strave into their stables,
The boys could'nt get them bound;
The hounds lay howling on the leech,
'Cause their master was behind.

"I dreamed a dream since late yestreen,

I wish it may be good,

That our chamber was full of swine,

An' our bed full of blood.

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"I saw a woman come from the West, Full sore wringing her hands,

And

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aye she cried, Ohon alas!

'My good lord's broken bands.'

"As she came by my good lord's bower,

Saw mony black steeds an' brown; I'm feared it be mony unco lords Havin' my love from town."

As she came by my gude lord's bower,
Saw mony black steeds an' grey;
"I'm feared its mony unco lords
Havin' my love to the clay."

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THE SPANISH VIRGIN.

From Percy's Reliques, iii. 316.

THE three following pieces are here inserted merely as specimens of a class of tales, horrible in their incidents but feeble in their execution, of which whole dreary volumes were printed and read about two centuries ago. They were all of them, probably, founded on Italian novels.

"The subject of this ballad is taken from a folio collection of tragical stories, entitled, The Theatre of God's Judgments, by Dr. Beard and Dr. Taylor, 1642. Pt. 2, p. 89. The text is given (with corrections) from two copies; one of them in black-letter in the Pepys Collection. In this every stanza is accompanied with the following distich by way of burden:

Oh jealousie! thou art nurst in hell:
Depart from hence, and therein dwell."

ALL tender hearts, that ake to hear
Of those that suffer wrong;

All you that never shed a tear,
Give heed unto my song.

Fair Isabella's tragedy

My tale doth far exceed :

Alas, that so much cruelty

In female hearts should breed!

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In Spain a lady liv'd of late,

Who was of high degree;

Whose wayward temper did create
Much woe and misery.

Strange jealousies so filled her head
With many a vain surmize,

She thought her lord had wrong'd her bed,

And did her love despise.

A gentlewoman passing fair

Did on this lady wait;

With bravest dames she might compare;

Her beauty was compleat.

Her lady cast a jealous eye
Upon this gentle maid,
And taxt her with disloyaltye,
And did her oft upbraid.

In silence still this maiden meek
Her bitter taunts would bear,
While oft adown her lovely cheek
Would steal the falling tear.

In vain in humble sort she strove
Her fury to disarm;

As well the meekness of the dove

The bloody hawke might charm.

Her lord, of humour light and gay,
And innocent the while,

As oft as she came in his way,

Would on the damsell smile.

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And oft before his lady's face,

As thinking her her friend,
He would the maiden's modest grace
And comeliness commend.

All which incens'd his lady so,

She burnt with wrath extreame; At length the fire that long did glow, Burst forth into a flame.

For on a day it so befell,

When he was gone from home, The lady all with rage did swell, And to the damsell come.

And charging her with great offence
And many a grievous fault,

She bade her servants drag her thence,
Into a dismal vault,

That lay beneath the common-shore,—

A dungeon dark and deep,

Where they were wont, in days of yore,
Offenders great to keep.

There never light of chearful day

Dispers'd the hideous gloom;

But dank and noisome vapours play

Around the wretched room:

And adders, snakes, and toads therein,
As afterwards was known,

Long in this loathsome vault had bin,

And were to monsters grown.

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