3 The first line that my lord lookd on Struck him with strong surprise; The second, more alarming still, Made tears fall from his eyes. 4 He called up his stable-groom, Saying, Saddle me well my steed, For I must up to London go, Of me there seems great need. 5 His lady, hearing what he said, As she in child-bed lay, Cry’d, My dear lord, pray make your will Before you go away. 6 ‘I’ll leave to thee, my eldest son, My houses and my land; I’ll leave to thee, my younger son, Ten thousand pounds in hand. 7 ‘I’ll leave to thee, my lady gay, My lawful married wife, A third part of my whole estate, To keep thee a lady’s life.’ 8 He knelt him down by her bed-side, And kissed her lips so sweet; The words that passd, alas! presaged They never more should meet. 9 Again he calld his stable-groom, Saying, Bring me out my steed, For I must up to London go, With instant haste and speed. 10 He took the reins into his hand, Which shook with fear and dread; The rings from off his fingers dropt, His nose gushd out and bled. 11 He had but ridden miles two or three When stumbling fell his steed; ‘Ill omens these,’ Derwentwater said, ‘That I for James must bleed.’ 12 As he rode up Westminster street, In sight of the White Hall, The lords and ladies of London town A traitor they did him call. 13 ‘A traitor!’ Lord Derwentwater said, ‘A traitor how can I be, Unless for keeping five hundred men Fighting for King Jemmy?’ 14 Then started forth a grave old man, With a broad-mouthd axe in hand: ‘Thy head, thy head, Lord Derwentwater, Thy head’s at my command.’ 15 ‘My head, my head, thou grave old man, My head I will give thee; Here’s a coat of velvet on my back Will surely pay thy fee. 16 ‘But give me leave,’ Derwentwater said, ‘To speak words two or three; Ye lords and ladies of London town, Be kind to my lady. 17 ‘Here’s a purse of fifty sterling pounds, Pray give it to the poor; Here’s one of forty-five beside You may dole from door to door.’ 18 He laid his head upon the block, The axe was sharp and strong, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * #A.# 2^4. Ere. 7^3. the 3rd. _Motherwell has made a few changes in his printed copy._ 12. _This stanza is given in Notes and Queries, First Series, I, 318, by a scholar of Christ’s Hospital, who informs us that the ballad was there current about 1785–1800:_ There’s fifty pounds in my right pocket, To be given to the poor; There’s fifty pounds in my left pocket, To be given from door to door. #E.# 1^2. And sealëd it with gold _in Mr J. P. Morris’s communication to Notes and Queries, the same volume_, p. 333. #F.#