The sea was smooth, the weather clear, When they approached nigher, King Ida’s castle they well knew, And the banks of Bambroughshire. The queen look’d out at her bower window, To see what she could see; There she espied a gallant ship Sailing upon the sea. When she beheld the silken sails, Full glancing in the sun, To sink the ship she sent away Her witch wives every one. The spells were vain; the hags returned To the queen in sorrowful mood, Crying that witches have no power, Where there is rown-tree wood. Her last effort, she sent a boat, Which in the haven lay, With armed men to board the ship, But they were driven away. The worm lept up, the worm lept down, She plaited round the stone; And ay as she came to the land She banged it off again. The child then ran out of her reach The ship on Budley-sand; And jumping into the shallow sea, Securely got to land. And now he drew his berry-broad sword, And laid it on her head; And swore if she did harm to him That he would strike her dead. O! quit thy sword and bend thy bow, And give me kisses three; For though I am a poisonous worm, No hurt I’ll do to thee. Oh! quit thy sword, and bend thy bow And give me kisses three; If I’m not won, e’er the sun go down, Won I shall never be. He quitted his sword and bent his bow, He gave her kisses three; She crept into a hole a worm, But out stept a lady. No cloathing had this lady fine, To keep her from the cold; He took his mantle from him about, And round her did it fold. He has taken his mantle from him about, And in it he wrapt her in, And they are up to Bambrough castle, As fast as they can win. His absence and her serpent shape, The king had long deplored, He now rejoiced to see them both Again to him restored. The queen they wanted, whom they found All pale, and sore afraid; Because she knew her power must yield To Childy Wynd’s, who said, Woe be to thee, thou wicked witch, An ill death mayest thou dee; As thou my sister hast lik’ned, So lik’ned shalt thou be. I will turn you into a toad, That on the ground doth wend; And won, won, shall thou never be, Till this world hath an end. Now on the sand near Ida’s tower, She crawls a loathsome toad, And venom spits on every maid She meets upon her road. The virgins all of Bambrough town, Will swear that they have seen This spiteful toad, of monstrous size, Whilst walking they have been. All folks believe within the shire The story to be true, And they all run to Spindleston, The cave and trough to view. This fact now Duncan Frasier Of Cheviot, sings in rhyme; Lest Bambrough-shire-men should forget Some part of it in time. [Illustration] THE FISHER LADDIE.