Ballads, English -- England -- Texts; Ballads, Scots -- Scotland -- Texts
"O hold thy hand, thou savage moor, 105
To hurt her do forbear,
Or else be sure, if I do live,
Wild horses shall thee tear."
With that the rogue ran to the wall,
He having had his will, 110
And brought one child under his arm,
His dearest blood to spill.
The child, seeing his father there,
To him for help did call:
"O father! help my mother dear, 115
We shall be killed all."
Then fell the lord upon his knee,
And did the moor intreat,
To save the life of this poor child,
Whose fear was then so great. 120
But this vile wretch the little child
By both the heels did take
And dash'd his brains against the wall,
Whilst parent's hearts did ake:
That being done, straightway he ran 125
The other child to fetch,
And pluck'd it from the mother's breast,
Most like a cruel wretch.
Within one hand a knife he brought,
The child within the other; 130
And holding it over the wall,
Saying, "Thus shall die thy mother,"
With that he cut the throat of it;
Then to the father he did call,
To look how he the head did cut, 135
And down the head did fall.
This done, he threw it down the wall
Into the moat so deep;
Which made the father wring his hands,
And grievously to weep. 140
Then to the lady went this rogue,
Who was near dead with fear,
Yet this vile wretch most cruelly
Did drag her by the hair;
And drew her to the very wall, 145
Which when her lord did see,
Then presently he cried out,
And fell upon his knee:
Quoth he, "If thou wilt save her life,
Whom I do love so dear, 150
I will forgive thee all is past,
Though they concern me near.
"O save her life, I thee beseech;
O save her, I thee pray,
And I will grant thee what thou wilt 155
Demand of me this day."
"Well," quoth the moor, "I do regard
The moan that thou dost make:
If thou wilt grant me what I ask,
I'll save her for thy sake." 160
"O save her life, and then demand
Of me what thing thou wilt."
"Cut off thy nose, and not one drop
Of her blood shall be spilt."
With that the lord presently took 165
A knife within his hand,
And then his nose he quite cut off,
In place where he did stand.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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