In #A#, #B#, the strangling is done by the nurse and her lady, Man’s Enemy personally knotting the tether in #A#; in #C# it is done by the nurse alone. In #B# 8 the great Dunipace, in his anger at hearing what his daughter has done, cries out for her to be put in a barrel of pikes[12] and rolled down some lea. In #C# the father, mother, and brother come to see Jean, and would fain give everything to borrow her. This is a by much too flattering account of the behavior of her relatives, who were principally anxious to have her got out of the world with as little éclat as might be. None of them came near her in prison, though Wariston’s brother did. #C# makes Wariston’s mortal offence not the throwing a plate at her face (#A#) or striking her on the mouth (#B#), but the taxing her with a bairn by another man.[13] The unfriendly relations of the pair must have been notorious. In the prison the wife “purged herself very sincerely from many scandalous things she had been bruited with. Not that she would excuse herself that she was a sinner in the highest rank, but that she might clear herself from these false reports that her house was charged with:” Memorial, p. XXVII. * * * * * A Jamieson’s Popular Ballads, I, 109, as taken down by Sir Walter Scott from the recitation of his mother. 1 Down by yon garden green Sae merrily as she gaes; She has twa weel-made feet, And she trips upon her taes. 2 She has twa weel-made feet, Far better is her hand; She’s as jimp in the middle As ony willow-wand. 3 ‘Gif ye will do my bidding, At my bidding for to be, It’s I will make you lady Of a’ the lands you see.’ * * * * * * 4 He spak a word in jest; Her answer wasna good; He threw a plate at her face, Made it a’ gush out o blood. 5 She wasna frae her chamber A step but barely three, When up and at her richt hand There stood Man’s Enemy. 6 ‘Gif ye will do my bidding, At my bidding for to be, I’ll learn you a wile Avenged for to be.’ 7 The Foul Thief knotted the tether, She lifted his head on hie, The nourice drew the knot That gard lord Waristoun die. 8 Then word is gane to Leith, Also to Edinburgh town, That the lady had killd the laird, The laird o Waristoun. * * * * * * 9 ‘Tak aff, tak aff my hood, But lat my petticoat be; Put my mantle oer my head, For the fire I downa see. 10 ‘Now, a’ ye gentle maids, Tak warning now by me, And never marry ane But wha pleases your ee. 11 ‘For he married me for love, But I married him for fee; And sae brak out the feud That gard my dearie die.’ * * * * * B Kinloch MSS, VII, 217; from the recitation of Jenny Watson.