I am but like a forfoughen hound,
Has been fighting in a dirty syke."
Then they hae tane him up thro' Carlisle town,
And set him by the chimney fire;
They gave brave Noble a wheat loaf to eat,
And that was little his desire.
Then they gave him a wheat loaf to eat,
And after that a can o beer;
Then they cried a' with ae consent,
"Eat, brave Noble, and make gude cheer!
"Confess my lord's horse, Hobie," they said,
"And the morn in Carlisle thou's no die;"
"How shall I
confess them," Hobie says,
"For I never saw them with mine eye?"
Then Hobie has sworn a fu' great aith,
By the day that he was
gotten and born,
He never had ony thing o' my lord's,
That either eat him grass or corn.
"Now fare thee weel, sweet Mangerton!
For I think again I'll ne'er thee see:
I wad
betray nae lad alive,
For a' the goud in Christentie.
"And fare thee weel, sweet Liddesdale!
Baith the hie land and the law;
Keep ye weel frae
traitor Mains!
For goud and gear he'll sell ye a'.
"Yet wad I rather be ca'd Hobie Noble,
In Carlisle where he suffers for his faut,
Before I'd be ca'd
traitor Mains,
That eats and drinks of the meal and maut."
Ballad: The Twa Sisters
(Sharpe's Ballad Book, No. X., p. 30.)
There liv'd twa sisters in a bower,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
There liv'd twa sisters in a bower,
Stirling for aye:
The youngest o' them, O, she was a flower!
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.
There came a
squire frae the west,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
There cam a
squire frae the west,
Stirling for aye:
He lo'ed them baith, but the youngest best,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.
He gied the
eldest a gay gold ring,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
He gied the
eldest a gay gold ring,
Stirling for aye:
But he lo'ed the youngest aboon a' thing,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.
"Oh sister, sister, will ye go to the sea?
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
Oh sister, sister, will ye go to the sea?
Stirling for aye:
Our father's ships sail bonnilie,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay."
The youngest sat down upon a stane,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
The youngest sat down upon a stane,
Stirling for aye:
The
eldest shot the youngest in,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.
"Oh sister, sister, lend me your hand,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
Oh, sister, sister, lend me your hand,
Stirling for aye:
And you shall hae my gouden fan,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.
"Oh, sister, sister, save my life,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
Oh sister, sister, save my life,
Stirling for aye:
And ye shall be the
squire's wife,
Bonny Sweet Johnstonne that stands upon Tay."
First she sank, and then she swam,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
First she sank, and then she swam,
Stirling for aye:
Until she cam to Tweed mill dam,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.
The millar's daughter was
baking bread,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
The millar's daughter was
baking bread,
Stirling for aye:
She went for water, as she had need,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.
"Oh father, father, in our mill dam,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch,
Oh father, father, in our mill dam,
Stirling for aye:
There's either a lady, or a milk-white swan,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay."
They could nae see her fingers small,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
They could nae see her fingers small,
Stirling for aye:
Wi' diamond rings they were cover'd all,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.
They could nae see her yellow hair,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
They could nae see her yellow hair,
Stirling for aye:
Sae mony knots and platts war there,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.
Bye there cam a fiddler fair,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
Bye there cam a fiddler fair,
Stirling for aye:
And he's ta'en three tails o' her yellow hair,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.
Ballad: Mary Ambree
(Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, vol. ii. p. 230.)
When captaines couragious, whom death cold not daunte,
Did march to the siege of the citty of Gaunt,
They mustred their souldiers by two and by three,
And the formost in battle was Mary Ambree.
When [the] brave sergeant-major was slaine in her sight,
Who was her true lover, her joy, and delight,
Because he was slaine most treacherouslie
Then vowd to
revenge him Mary Ambree.
She clothed herselfe from the top to the toe
In buffe of the bravest, most seemelye to showe;
A faire shirt of male then slipped on shee:
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?
A helmett of proofe shee
strait did provide,
A stronge arminge-sword shee girt by her side,
On her hand a
goodly faire gauntlett put shee:
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?
Then tooke shee her sworde and her targett in hand,
Bidding all such, as wold, [to] bee of her band;
To wayte on her person came thousand and three:
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?
"My soldiers," she saith, "soe valliant and bold,
Nowe followe your captaine, whom you doe beholde;
Still formost in battell myselfe will I bee:"
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?
Then cryed out her souldiers, and loude they did say,
"Soe well thou becomest this
gallant array,
Thy harte and thy
weapons so well do agree,
No mayden was ever like Mary Ambree."
She cheared her souldiers, that foughten for life,
With ancyent and standard, with drum and with fife,
With brave clanging trumpetts, that sounded so free;
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?
"Before I will see the worst of you all
To come into danger of death or of thrall,
This hand and this life I will
venture so free:"
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?
Shee ledd upp her souldiers in battaile array,
Gainst three times theyr number by breake of the daye;
Seven howers in
skirmish continued shee:
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?
She filled the skyes with the smoke of her shott,
And her enemyes bodyes with bulletts so hott;
For one of her own men a score killed shee:
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?
And when her false
gunner, to spoyle her intent,
Away all her pellets and powder had sent,
Straight with her keen
weapon she slasht him in three:
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?
Being falselye
betrayed for lucre of hyre,
At length she was forced to make a retyre;
Then her souldiers into a strong castle drew shee:
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?
Her foes they besett her on everye side,
As thinking close siege shee cold never abide;
To beate down the walles they all did decree:
But stoutlye deffyd them brave Mary Ambree.
Then tooke shee her sword and her targett in hand,
And mounting the walls all undaunted did stand,
There
daring their captaines to match any three:
O what a brave captaine was Mary Ambree!
"Now saye, English captaine, what woldest thou give
To ransome thy selfe, which else must not live?
Come yield thy selfe quicklye, or slaine thou must bee:"
Then smiled sweetlye brave Mary Ambree.
"Ye captaines couragious, of
valour so bold,
Whom thinke you before you now you doe behold?
"A
knight, sir, of England, and captaine soe free,
Who shortlye with us a prisoner must bee."
"No captaine of England; behold in your sight
Two brests in my bosome, and
therefore no
knight:
Noe
knight, sirs, of England, nor captaine you see,
But a poor simple mayden called Mary Ambree."
"But art thou a woman, as thou dost declare,
Whose valor hath proved so undaunted in warre?
If England doth yield such brave maydens as thee,
Full well mey they
conquer, faire Mary Ambree."
The Prince of Great Parma heard of her renowne,
Who long had
advanced for England's fair crowne;
Hee wooed her and sued her his
mistress to bee,
And offered rich presents to Mary Ambree.
But this
virtuous mayden despised them all:
"'Ile nere sell my honour for
purple nor pall;
A
maiden of England, sir, never will bee
The wench of a monarcke," quoth Mary Ambree.
Then to her owne country shee back did returne,
Still
holding the foes of rare England in scorne!
Therfore English captaines of every degree
Sing forth the brave
valours of Mary Ambree.
Ballad: Alison Gross