Wi’ silver bason an’ silver kaim To kaim my headie upon her knee; But or I had kiss’d [wi’ Alison Gross] I’d sooner ha’ toddled about the tree. XII But as it fell out, on last Hallowe’en, When the Seely Court[118] was ridin’ by, The Queen lighted down on a gowany[119] bank Nae far frae the tree where I wont to lye. XIII She took me up in her milk-white han’, An’ she’s straik’d me three times o’er her knee; She changed me again to my ain proper shape, An’ nae mair I toddle about the tree. FOOTNOTES: [115] trysted = invited. [116] lemman = sweetheart. [117] haud = hold, keep. [118] Seely Court = the Happy Court (of the Fairies). [119] gowany = daisied. _13. Kemp Owyne_ I Her mother died when she was young, Which gave her cause to make great moan; Her father married the warst woman That ever lived in Christendom. II She servèd her wi’ foot and hand In everything that she could dee[120], Till once, in an unlucky time She threw her owre a craig[121] o’ the sea. III Says, ‘Lie you there, dove Isabel, And all my sorrows lie wi’ thee! Till Kemp[122] Owyne come to the craig, And borrow[123] you wi’ kisses three.’ IV Her breath grew strang, her hair grew lang And twisted thrice about the tree, And all the people, far and near, Thought that a savage beast was she. V And aye she cried for Kemp Owyne Gin that he would but com’ to her hand:-- Now word has gane to Kemp Owyne That siccan[124] a beast was in his land. VI ‘Now by my sooth,’ says Kemp Owyne, ‘This fiery beast I’ll gang to see’; ‘And by my sooth,’ says Segramour, ‘My ae brother, I’ll gang you wi’.’ VII O they have biggit[125] a bonny boat, And they have set her to the sea; But a mile before they reach’d the shore I wot she gar’d[126] the red fire flee. VIII ‘O brother, keep my boat afloat, An’ lat her na the land so near! For the wicked beast she’ll sure go mad, An’ set fire to the land an’ mair.’ IX Syne he has bent an arblast bow And aim’d an arrow at her head, And swore, if she didna quit the land, Wi’ that same shaft to shoot her dead. X ‘O out o’ my stythe[127] I winna rise-- And it is na for the fear o’ thee-- Till Kemp Owyne, the kingis son, Come to the craig an’ thrice kiss me.’ XI Her breath was strang, her hair was lang And twisted thrice about the tree, And with a swing she came about: ‘Come to the craig, an’ kiss with me! XII ‘Here is a royal belt,’ she cried, ‘That I have found in the green sea; And while your body it is on, Drawn shall your blood never be; But if you touch me, tail or fin, I swear my belt your death shall be.’ XIII