Then they're tane out the bouer-woman, And put the ladie in: 100 It tuke na on her cheek, her cheek, It tuke na on her chin, But it tuke on the fause, fause arms, That young Redin lay in. LORD WILLIAM. _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 23. This ballad was communicated to Sir Walter Scott by Mr. James Hogg, accompanied with the following note:-- "I am fully convinced of the antiquity of this song; for, although much of the language seems somewhat modernized, this must be attributed to its currency, being much liked, and very much sung in this neighbourhood. I can trace it back several generations, but cannot hear of its ever having been in print. I have never heard it with any considerable variation, save that one reciter called the dwelling of the feigned sweet-heart, _Castleswa_." Lord William was the bravest knight That dwalt in fair Scotland, And though renown'd in France and Spain, Fell by a ladie's hand. As she was walking maid alone, 5 Down by yon shady wood, She heard a smit o' bridle reins, She wish'd might be for good. "Come to my arms, my dear Willie, You're welcome hame to me; 10 To best o' cheer and charcoal red,[L11] And candle burning free."-- "I winna light, I darena light, Nor come to your arms at a'; A fairer maid than ten o' you 15 I'll meet at Castle-law."-- "A fairer maid than me, Willie! A fairer maid than me! A fairer maid than ten o' me Your eyes did never see."-- 20 He louted ower his saddle lap, To kiss her ere they part, And wi' a little keen bodkin, She pierced him to the heart. "Ride on, ride on, Lord William now, 25 As fast as ye can dree! Your bonny lass at Castle-law Will weary you to see."-- Out up then spake a bonny bird, Sat high upon a tree,-- 30 "How could you kill that noble lord? He came to marry thee."-- "Come down, come down, my bonny bird, And eat bread aff my hand! Your cage shall be of wiry goud, 35 Whar now it's but the wand."-- "Keep ye your cage o' goud, lady, And I will keep my tree; As ye hae done to Lord William, Sae wad ye do to me."-- 40 She set her foot on her door step, A bonny marble stane, And carried him to her chamber, O'er him to make her mane. And she has kept that good lord's corpse 45 Three quarters of a year, Until that word began to spread; Then she began to fear.