Ebbe Skammelsøn, being obliged to absent himself from his plighted maid for a considerable time, loses her through the artifices of his brother [and mother], who pretends first that Ebbe is unfaithful, and then that he is dead. Ebbe is warned by a dream that his brother is about to wed his mistress, goes home in great haste, and arrives on the wedding-day. He kills the bride, and then his brother, who, at the last moment, offers to cede the bride to him, as Lord Ingram, in #B# 17, says he meant to do. Ebbe after this begs his bread, or goes on a pilgrimage weighted with iron on his hands and loins; wherein his part resembles Maisry's. Danske Viser, III, 75, No 120, translated by Prior, II, 380; Arwidsson, No 33, I, 216, 224, 412; Atterbom's Poetisk Kalender, 1816, p. 55. It may be worth noting that Maisry's wedding, according to #B# 20, was "in good kirk-door," like the five of The Wife of Bath. * * * * * Translated by Knortz, Lieder und Romanzen Alt-Englands, p. 166, No 44, after Allingham, p. 306. A #a.# Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 173, communicated by Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe. #b.# Maidment's North Countrie Garland, p. 24, from tradition in Aberdeenshire. 1 Lord Ingram and Chiel Wyet Was baith born in one bower; Laid baith their hearts on one lady, The less was their honour. 2 Chiel Wyet and Lord Ingram Was baith born in one hall; Laid baith their hearts on one lady, The worse did them befall. 3 Lord Ingram wood her Lady Maisery From father and from mother; Lord Ingram wood her Lady Maisery From sister and from brother. 4 Lord Ingram wood her Lady Maisery With leave of a' her kin; And every one gave full consent, But she said no to him. 5 Lord Ingram wood her Lady Maisery Into her father's ha; Chiel Wyet wood her Lady Maisery Amang the sheets so sma. 6 Now it fell out upon a day, She was dressing her head, That ben did come her father dear, Wearing the gold so red. 7 He said, Get up now, Lady Maisery, Put on your wedding gown; For Lord Ingram he will be here, Your wedding must be done. 8 'I'd rather be Chiel Wyet's wife, The white fish for to sell, Before I were Lord Ingram's wife, To wear the silk so well. 9 'I'd rather be Chiel Wyet's wife, With him to beg my bread, Before I were Lord Ingram's wife, To wear the gold so red. 10 'Where will I get a bonny boy, Will win gold to his fee, And will run unto Chiel Wyet's, With this letter from me?' 11 'O here I am, the boy,' says one, 'Will win gold to my fee, And carry away any letter To Chiel Wyet from thee.' 12 And when he found the bridges broke, He bent his bow and swam; And when he found the grass growing, He hastened and he ran.