‘Where gat ye your dinner, Lord Randal, my son? Where gat ye your dinner, my handsome young man?’-- ‘I dined wi’ my true-love; mother, make my bed soon, For I’m weary wi’ hunting, and fain wald lie down.’ III ‘What gat ye to your dinner, Lord Randal, my son? What gat ye to your dinner, my handsome young man?’-- ‘I gat eels boil’d in broo’; mother, make my bed soon, For I’m weary wi’ hunting, and fain wald lie down.’ IV ‘What became of your bloodhounds, Lord Randal, my son? What became of your bloodhounds, my handsome young man?’-- ‘O they swell’d and they died; mother, make my bed soon, For I’m weary wi’ hunting, and fain wald lie down.’ V ‘O I fear ye are poison’d, Lord Randal, my son! O I fear ye are poison’d, my handsome young man!’-- ‘O yes! I am poison’d; mother, make my bed soon, For I’m sick at the heart, and I fain wald lie down.’ _67. The Twa Corbies_ (SCOTTISH VERSION) I As I was walking all alane, I heard twa corbies[434] making a mane: The tane unto the tither did say, ‘Whar sall we gang and dine the day?’ II ‘--In behint yon auld fail[435] dyke I wot there lies a new-slain knight; And naebody kens that he lies there But his hawk, his hound, and his lady fair. III ‘His hound is to the hunting gane, His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame, His lady’s ta’en anither mate, So we may mak’ our dinner sweet. IV ‘Ye’ll sit on his white hause[436]-bane, And I’ll pike out his bonny blue e’en: Wi’ ae lock o’ his gowden hair We’ll theek[437] our nest when it grows bare. V ‘Mony a one for him maks mane, But nane sall ken whar he is gane: O’er his white banes, when they are bare, The wind sall blaw for evermair.’ FOOTNOTES: [434] corbies = ravens. [435] fail = turf. [436] hause = neck. [437] theek = thatch. _68. The Three Ravens_ I There were three ravens sat on a tree, They were as black as they might be. II The one of them said to his make[438], ‘Where shall we our breakfast take?’ III ‘Down in yonder greenè field There lies a knight slain under his shield; IV ‘His hounds they lie down at his feet, So well do they their master keep; V ‘His hawks they flie so eagerly, There’s no fowl dare come him nigh. VI ‘Down there comes a fallow doe As great with young as she might goe. VII ‘She lift up his bloudy head And kist his wounds that were so red. VIII ‘She gat him up upon her back And carried him to earthen lake. IX ‘She buried him before the prime, She was dead herself ere evensong time. X ‘God send every gentleman Such hounds, such hawks, and such a leman!’ FOOTNOTES: [438] make = mate. BOOK III _69. The Nut-Brown Maid_ I