He put a silk cote on his backe,
And mail of manye a fold;
And hee putt a steele cap on his head,
Was gilt with good red gold.

He layd a bright browne sword by his side,

And another att his feete:

[And twentye good knights he placed at hand, To watch him in his sleepe.]

And about the middle time of the night,

Came twentye-four traitours inn;

Sir Giles he was the foremost man,

The leader of that ginn.

Old Robin with his bright browne sword,

Sir Gyles head soon did winn; And scant of all those twenty-four Went out one quick agenn.

None save only a litle foot-page,

Crept forth at a window of stone;

And he had two armes when he came in,

And he went back with one.

Upp then came that ladie gaye,

With torches burning bright;

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She thought to have brought Sir Gyles a

drinke,

Butt she found her owne wedd knight.

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The first thinge that she stumbled on
It was Sir Gyles his foote;
Sayes, "Ever alacke, and woe is mee!
Here lyes my sweete hart-roote."

The next thinge that she stumbled on
It was Sir Gyles his heade;
Sayes, "Ever alacke, and woe is me!
Heere lyes my true love deade."

Hee cutt the pappes beside her brest,
And didd her body spille;

He cutt the eares beside her heade,
And bade her love her fille.

He called up then up his litle foot-page,
And made him there his heyre ;

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And sayd, "Henceforth my worldlye goodes, 115 And countrie I forsweare."

He shope the crosse on his right shoulder,
Of the white clothe and the redde,

And went him into the holy land,

Wheras Christ was quicke and dead.

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117. Every person who went on a Croisade to the Holy Land usually wore a cross on his upper garment, on the right shoulder, as a badge of his profession. Different nations were distinguished by crosses of different colors: the English wore white, the French red, &c. This circumstance seems to be confounded in the ballad. PERCY.

MS. 118, fleshe.

FAUSE FOODRAGE.

First published in Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, iii. 220.

"This ballad has been popular in many parts of Scotland. It is chiefly given from Mrs. Brown of Falkland's MSS. The expression,

"The boy stared wild like a gray goss-hawk," v. 31, strongly resembles that in Hardyknute,

"Norse e'en like gray goss-hawk stared wild;'

a circumstance which led the Editor to make the strictest inquiry into the authenticity of the song. But every doubt was removed by the evidence of a lady of high rank, who not only recollected the ballad, as having amused her infancy, but could repeat many of the verses, particularly those beautiful stanzas from the 20th to the 25th. The Editor is, therefore, compelled to believe, that the author of Hardyknute copied the old ballad, if the coincidence be not altogether accidental." ScOTT.

KING EASTER has courted her for her lands,
King Wester for her fee,

King Honour for her comely face,

And for her fair bodie.

They had not been four months married,

As I have heard them tell, Until the nobles of the land Against them did rebel.

And they cast kevils them amang,
And kevils them between;
And they cast kevils them amang,
Wha suld gae kill the king.

O some said yea, and some said nay,
Their words did not agree;

Till up and got him, Fause Foodrage,

And swore it suld be he.

When bells were rung, and mass was sung,

And a' men bound to bed,

King Honour and his gay ladye

In a high chamber were laid.

Then up and raise him, Fause Foodrage,
When a' were fast asleep,

And slew the porter in his lodge,

That watch and ward did keep.

O four and twenty silver keys
Hang hie upon a pin ;

And aye as ae door he did unlock,

He has fasten'd it him behind.

Then up and raise him, King Honour,
Says "What means a' this din?
Or what's the matter, Fause Foodrage,
Or wha has loot you in ?"—

"O ye my errand weel sall learn,

Before that I depart."

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Then drew a knife, baith lang and sharp, 35 And pierced him to the heart.

Then up and got the Queen hersell,
And fell low down on her knee,

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"O spare my life, now, Fause Foodrage! For I never injured thee.

"O spare my life, now, Fause Foodrage!

Until I lighter be!

And see gin it be lad or lass,

King Honour has left me wi."

"O gin it be a lass,” he says, "Weel nursed it sall be;

But gin it be a lad bairn,

He sall be hanged hie.

"I winna spare for his tender age, Nor yet for his hie, hie kin;

But soon as e'er he born is,

He sall mount the gallows pin."

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