‘Noo come ye in inta wir[138] ha’, An come ye in among wis[139] a’.’ X Now he’s gaen in inta der ha’, An he’s gaen in among dem a’. XI Dan he took out his pipes to play, Bit sair his hert wi döl an wae. XII An first he played da notes o noy, An dan he played da notes o joy. XIII An dan he played da göd gabber reel, Dat meicht ha made a sick hert hale. XIV ‘Noo tell to us what ye will hae: What sall we gie you for your play?’-- XV ‘What I will hae I will you tell, An dat’s me Lady Isabel.’-- XVI ‘Yees tak your lady, an yees gaeng hame, An yees be king ower a’ your ain.’ XVII He’s taen his lady, an he’s gaen hame, An noo he’s king ower a’ his ain. FOOTNOTES: [133] aste = east. [134] _Scowan_ &c. = Early green’s the wood. [135] _giorten_ &c. = Where the hart goes yearly. [136] noy = grief. [137] göd gabber reel = the rollicking dance-tune. [138] wir = our. [139] wis = us. _16. King Henry_ I Let never a man a wooing wend That lacketh thingis three; A routh[140] o’ gold, an open heart And fu’ o’ courtesye. II As this I speak of King Henry, For he lay burd-alone[141]; An’ he’s doen him to a jelly[142] hunt’s ha’ Was seven mile frae a town. III He’s chased the deer down him before, An’ the roe down by the den, Till the fattest buck in a’ the flock King Henry he has slain. IV O he has doen him to his ha’ To make him bierly[143] cheer; An’ in it came a griesly ghost Steed stappin’ i’ the fleer[144]. V Her head hat[145] the roof-tree o’ the house, Her middle ye weel mot[146] span; He’s thrown to her his gay mantle, Says, ‘Lady, hap[147] your lingcan[148].’ VI Her teeth were a’ like teather stakes[149], Her nose like club or mell[150]; An’ I ken naething she ’pear’d to be But the fiend that wons[151] in hell. VII ‘Some meat, some meat, ye King Henry, Some meat ye gie to me!’-- ‘An’ what meat’s in this house, ladye, That ye’re not welcome tae?’-- ‘O ye’se gae[152] kill your berry-brown steed, And serve him up to me.’ VIII O whan he slew his berry-brown steed, Wow but his heart was sair! She ate him a’ up, skin an’ bane, Left naething but hide an’ hair. IX ‘Mair meat, mair meat, ye King Henry, Mair meat ye gie to me!’-- ‘An’ what meat’s in this house, ladye, That ye’re not welcome tae?’-- ‘O do ye slay your good grey-hounds An’ bring them a’ to me.’ X O whan he slew his good grey-hounds, Wow but his heart was sair! She ate them a’ up, skin an’ bane, Left naething but hide an’ hair. XI