"O sall I kill her, nourice? Or sall I lat her be?" "O kill her, kill her, Lamkin, For she ne'er was good to me." "O scour the basin, nourice, And mak it fair and clean, For to keep this lady's heart's blood, For she's come o' noble kin." "There need nae basin, Lamkin; Let it run through the floor; What better is the heart's blood O' the rich than o' the poor?" But ere three months were at an end, Lord Wearie came again -, But dowie dowie was his heart When first he came hame. (_dowie_, gloomy.) "O wha's blood is this," he says, "That lies in the châmer?" "It is your lady's heart's blood; Tis as clear as the lamer." "And wha's blood is this," he says, "That lies in my ha'?" "It is your young son's heart's blood; 'Tis the clearest ava'." O sweetly sang the black-bird That sat upon the tree; But sairer grat Lamkin, When he was condemn'd to die. And bonny sang the mavis Out o' the thorny brake; But sairer grat the nourice, When she was tied to the stake. COSPATRICK |Cospatrick has sent o'er the faem; Cospatrick brought his lady hame; And fourscore ships have come her wi', The lady by the green-wood tree. (_lamer_, amber. _faem_, sea.) There were twal' and twal' wi' baken bread, And twal' and twal' wi' gowd sae red, And twal' and twal' wi' bouted flour, And twal* and twal' wi' the paramour. Sweet Willy was a widow's son, And at her stirrup he did run; And she was clad in the finest pall, But aye she let the tears down fall. "O is your saddle set awry? Or rides your steed for you ower high? Or are you mourning, in your tide, That you should be Cospatrick's bride?" "I am not mourning, at this tide, That I should be Cospatrick's bride; But I am sorrowing in my mood, That I should leave my mother good. "But, gentle boy, come tell to me, What is the custom of thy country?"-- "The custom thereof, my dame," he says, "Will ill a gentle lady please. "Seven king's daughters has our lord wedded, And seven king's daughters has our lord bedded; But he's cutted their breasts ' frae their breast-bane, And sent them mourning hame again. (_twal'_ twelve. _bouted_, bolted. _tide_, time.) "Yet, gin you're sure that you're a maid, Ye may gae safely to his bed; But gif o' that ye be na sure, Then hire some damsel o' your bower."-- The lady's call'd her bour maiden, That waiting was into her train; "Five thousands merks I'll gie to thee, To sleep this night with my lord for me."-- When bells were rung, and mass was sayen, And a' men unto bed were gane, Cospatrick and the bonny maid, Into a chamber they were laid. "Now, speak to me, blankets, and speak to me, bed, And speak, thou sheet, enchanted web; And speak up, my bonny brown sword, that winna lie, Is this a true maiden that lies by me?"-- "It is not a maid that you hae wedded, But it is a maid that you hae bedded;