She’s ta’en her mantle her about, Her coffer by the hand, And she’s gone out to seek her son, And wander’d o’er the land. XII She’s doen her to the Jew’s castell Where a’ were fast asleep; Cries, ‘Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh, I pray you to me speak!’ XIII She near’d Our Lady’s deep draw-well, And fell down on her knee: ‘Where’er ye be, my sweet Sir Hugh, I pray you speak to me!’-- XIV ‘O the lead is wondrous heavy, mother, The well is wondrous deep; The little penknife sticks in my throat, And I downa[501] to ye speak. XV ‘Gae hame, gae hame, my mither dear, Prepare my winding sheet, And at the back o’ merry Lincoln The morn I will you meet.’ XVI Now Lady Helen is gane hame, Made him a winding sheet, And at the back o’ merry Lincoln The dead corpse did her meet. XVII And a’ the bells o’ merry Lincoln Without men’s hands were rung; And a’ the books o’ merry Lincoln Were read without man’s tongue; And never was such a burial Sin’ Adam’s day begun. FOOTNOTES: [497] ba’ = ball, football. [498] doen = betaken. [499] play-feres = playfellows. [500] row’d = wrapped. [501] downa = cannot, have not the force to. _80. The Heir of Linne_ I The bonny heir, and the well-faur’d[502] heir, The weary heir o’ Linne-- Yonder he stands at his father’s yetts[503], And naebody bids him in. II ‘O see for he gangs, and see for he stands, The unthrifty heir o’ Linne! O see for he stands on the cauld causey[504], And nane bids him come in!’ III His father and mother were dead him fro’, And so was the head o’ his kin; To the cards and dice that he did run, Did neither cease nor blin[505]. IV To drink the wine that was so clear With all he would mak’ merrye; And then bespake him John o’ the Scales, To the heir of Linne said he: V ‘How doest thou, thou Lord of Linne Doest want or gold or fee? Wilt thou not sell thy lands so broad To such a good fellow as me?’ VI He told the gold upon the board, Wanted never a bare pennye: ‘The gold is thine, the land is mine, The heir of Linne I will be.’ VII ‘Here’s gold enow,’ saith the heir of Linne, ‘For me and my companye.’ He drank the wine that was so clear, And with all he made merrye. VIII Within three quarters of a year His gold it waxèd thin; His merry men were from him gone, Bade him, ‘To the de’il ye’se gang!’ IX ‘Now well-a-day!’ said the heir of Linne, ‘I have left not one pennye. God be with my father!’ he said, ‘On his land he lived merrilye.’ X