The doctor was called for and set by her bedside, 5 "What aileth thee, my ladie, thine eyes seem so red?" "O doctor, O doctor, will ye do this for me, To rip up my two sides, and save my babie?" "Queen Jeanie, Queen Jeanie, that's the thing I'll ne'er do, To rip up your two sides to save your babie:" 10 Queen Jeanie, Queen Jeanie, travel'd six weeks and more, Till midwives and doctors had quite gi'en her o'er. "O if ye were doctors as doctors should be, Ye would send for King Henry, King Henry to me:" King Henry was called for, and sat by her bedside, 15 "What aileth thee, Jeanie, what aileth my bride?" "King Henry, King Henry, will ye do this for me, To rip up my two sides, and save my babie?" "Queen Jeanie, Queen Jeanie, that's what I'll never do, To rip up your two sides to save your babie." 20 But with sighing and sobbing she's fallen in a swoon, Her side it was ript up, and her babie was found; At this bonie babie's christ'ning there was meikle joy and mirth, But bonnie Queen Jeanie lies cold in the earth. Six and six coaches, and six and six more, 25 And royal King Henry went mourning before; O two and two gentlemen carried her away, But royal King Henry went weeping away. O black were their stockings, and black were their bands, And black were the weapons they held in their hands; 30 O black were their mufflers, and black were their shoes, And black were the cheverons they drew on their luves. They mourned in the kitchen, and they mourn'd in the ha', But royal King Henry mourn'd langest of a'. Farewell to fair England, farewell for evermore, 35 For the fair flower of England will never shine more! THE DEATH OF QUEEN JANE. From _Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry of England_, edited by Robert Bell, p. 113. Taken down from the singing of a young gipsy girl. Queen Jane was in travail for six weeks or more, Till the women grew tired and fain would give o'er, "O women, O women, good wives if ye be, Go send for King Henrie, and bring him to me!" King Henrie was sent for, he came with all speed, 5 In a gownd of green velvet from heel to the head; "King Henrie, King Henrie, if kind Henrie you be, Send for a surgeon, and bring him to me!" The surgeon was sent for, he came with all speed, In a gownd of black velvet from heel to the head; 10 He gave her rich caudle, but the death-sleep slept she, Then her right side was opened, and the babe was set free. The babe it was christened, and put out and nursed, While the royal Queen Jane she lay cold in the dust. * * * * *