Sacred Texts Legends & Sagas England Index Previous Next
91A.1 WHEN we were silly sisters seven, sisters were so fair, Five of us were brave knights’ wives, and died in childbed lair. 91A.2 Up then spake Fair Mary, marry woud she nane; If ever she came in man’s bed, the same gate wad she gang. 91A.3 ‘Make no vows, Fair Mary, for fear they broken be; Here’s been the Knight of Wallington, asking good will of thee.’ 91A.4 ‘If here’s been the knight, mother, asking good will of me, Within three quarters of a year you may come bury me.’ 91A.5 When she came to Wallington, and into Wallington hall, There she spy’d her mother dear, walking about the wall. 91A.6 ‘You’re welcome, daughter dear, to thy castle and thy bowers;’ ‘I thank you kindly, mother, I hope they’ll soon be yours.’ 91A.7 She had not been in Wallington three quarters and a day, Till upon the ground she could not walk, she was a weary prey. 91A.8 She had not been in Wallington three quarters and a night, Till on the ground she coud not walk, she was a weary wight. 91A.9 ‘Is there neer a boy in this town, who’ll win hose and shun, That will run to fair Pudlington, and bid my mother come?’ 91A.10 Up then spake a little boy, near unto a-kin; ‘Full oft I have your errands gone, but now I will it run.’ 91A.11 Then she calld her waiting-maid to bring up bread and wine: ‘Eat and drink, my bonny boy, thou’ll neer eat more of mine. 91A.12 ‘Give my respects to my mother, [as] she sits in her chair of stone, And ask her how she likes the news, of seven to have but one. 91A.13 [‘Give my respects to my mother, as she sits in her chair of oak, And bid her come to my sickening, or my merry lake-wake.] 91A.14 ‘Give my love to my brother William, Ralph, and John, And to my sister Betty fair, and to her white as bone. 91A.15 ‘And bid her keep her maidenhead, be sure make much on’t, For if eer she come in man’s bed, the same gate will she gang.’ 91A.16 Away this little boy is gone, as fast as he could run; When he came where brigs were broke, he lay down and swum. 91A.17 When he saw the lady, he said, Lord may your keeper be! ‘What news, my pretty boy, hast thou to tell to me?’ 91A.18 ‘Your daughter Mary orders me, as you sit in a chair of stone, To ask you how you like the news, of seven to have but one. 91A.19 ‘Your daughter gives commands, as you sit in a chair of oak, And bids you come to her sickening, or her merry lake-wake. 91A.20 ‘She gives command to her brother William, Ralph, and John, [And] to her sister Betty fair, and to her white as bone. 91A.21 ‘She bids her keep her maidenhead, be sure make much on’t, for if eer she came in man’s bed, the same gate woud she gang.’ 91A.22 She kickt the table with her foot, she kickt it with her knee, The silver plate into the fire, so far she made it flee. 91A.23 Then she calld her waiting-maid to bring her riding-hood, So did she on her stable-groom to bring her riding-steed. 91A.24 ‘Go saddle to me the black [the black,] go saddle to me the brown, Go saddle to me the swiftest steed that eer rid [to] Wallington.’ 91A.25 When they came to Wallington, and into Wallington hall, There she spy’d her son Fenwick, walking about the wall. 91A.26 ‘God save you, dear son, Lord may your keeper be! Where is my daughter fair, that used to walk with thee?’ 91A.27 He turnd his head round about, the tears did fill his ee: ‘’Tis a month,’ he said, ‘Since she took her chambers from me.’ 91A.28 She went on . . . and there were in the hall Four and twenty ladies, letting the tears down fall. 91A.29 Her daughter had a scope into her cheek and into her chin, All to keep her life till her dear mother came. 91A.30 ‘Come take the rings off my fingers, the skin it is so white, And give them to my mother dear, for she was all the wite. 91A.31 ‘Come take the rings off my fingers, the veins they are so red, Give them to Sir William Fenwick, I’m sure his heart will bleed.’ 91A.32 She took out a razor that was both sharp and fine, And out of her left side has taken the heir of Wallington. 91A.33 There is a race in Wallington, and that I rue full sare; Tho the cradle it be full spread up, the bride-bed is left bare.
91B.1 ‘WHEN we were sisters seven, An five of us deyd wi child, And there is nane but you and I, Mazery, And we’ll go madens mild.’ 91B.2 But there came knights, and there came squiers, An knights of high degree; She pleasd hersel in Levieston, They wear a comly twa. 91B.3 He has bought her rings for her fingers, And garlands for her hair, The broochis till her bosome braid; What wad my love ha mair? And he has brought her on to Livingston, And made her lady thear. 91B.4 She had na been in Liveingston A twelvemonth and a day, Till she was as big wi bairn As ony lady could gae. 91B.5 The knight he knocked his white fingers, The goude rings flew in twa: ‘Halls and bowers they shall go wast Ere my bonny love gie awa!’ 91B.6 The knight he knocked his white fingers, The goude rings flew in foure: ‘Halls and bowers they shall go waste Eren my bonny lady gie it ore!’ 91B.7 The knight he knocked his white fingers, The lady[s] sewed and sung; It was to comfort Lady Mazery, But her life-days wear na long. 91B.8 ‘O whare will I get a bonny boy, That will win both hoos and shoon, That will win his way to Little Snoddown, To my mother, the Queen?’ 91B.9 Up and stands a bonny boy, Goude yellow was his hair; I wish his mother mickle grace at him, And his trew-love mickle mare. 91B.10 ‘Here am I a bonny boy, That will win baith hoos an shoon, That will win my way to Little Snoddown, To thy mother, the Queen.’ 91B.11 ‘Here is the rings frae my fingers, The garlonds frae my hair, The broches fray my bosom braid; Fray me she’ll nere get mare. 91B.12 ‘Here it is my weeding-goun, It is a’ goude but the hem; Gi it to my sister Allen, For she is left now bird her lane. 91B.13 ‘When you come whare brigs is broken, Ye’l bent your bow and swim; An when ye come whare green grass grows, Ye’l slack your shoon and run. 91B.14 ‘But when you come to yon castle, Bide neither to chap nor ca, But you’l set your bent bow to your breast, And lightly loup the wa, And gin the porter be half-gate, Ye’ll be ben throw the ha! 91B.15 O when he came whare brigs was broken, He bent his bow and swam; An when he came where green grass grows, He slackd his shoon an ran. 91B.16 And when he came to yon castel, He stayed neither to chap no ca’l, But bent his bow unto his breast, And lightly lap the wa’l; And gin the porter was hafe-gate, He was ben throw the ha’l. 91B.17 ‘O peace be to you, ladys a’l! As ye sit at your dine Ye ha little word of Lady Mazery, For she drees mickel pine. 91B.18 ‘Here is the rings frae her fingers, The garlands frae her hair, The broches frae her bosome brade; Fray her ye’l nere get mare. 91B.19 ‘Here it is her weeding-goun, It is a’ goude but the hem; Ye’ll ge it to her sister Allen, For she is left bird her lane.’ 91B.20 She ca’d the table wi her foot, And coped it wi her tae, Till siller cups an siller cans Unto the floor did gae. 91B.21 ‘Ye wash, ye wash, ye bonny boy, Ye wash, and come to dine; It does not fit a bonny boy His errant for to tine. 91B.22 ‘Ge saddle to me the black, the black, Ge saddle to me the brown, Ge saddle to me the swiftest steed That ever rid frae a town.’ 91B.23 The first steed they saddled to her, He was the bonny black; He was a good steed, an a very good steed, But he tiyrd eer he wan the slack. 91B.24 The next steed they saddled to her, He was the bonny brown; He was a good steed, an a very good steed, But he tiyird ere he wan the town. 91B.25 The next steed they saddled to her, He was the bonny white; Fair fa the mair that fo’d the fole That carried her to Mazeree[’s] lear! 91B.26 As she gaed in at Leivingston, Thair was na mickel pride; The scobs was in her lovely mouth, And the razer in her side. 91B.27 ‘O them that marrys your daughter, lady, I think them but a foole; A married man at Martimass, An a widdow the next Yule!’ 91B.28 ‘O hold your toung now, Livingston, Let all your folly abee; I bear the burden in my breast, Mun suffer them to dee.’ 91B.29 Out an speaks her Bird Allen, For she spake ay through pride; ‘That man shall near be born,’ she says, ‘That shall ly down by my side.’ 91B.30 ‘O hold your toung now, Bird Allen, Let all your folly abee; For you shall marry a man,’ she says, ‘Tho ye shoud live but rathes three.’
91C.1 ‘O WE were sisters seven, Maisry, And five are dead wi child; There is nane but you and I, Maisry, And we’ll go maidens mild.’ 91C.2 She hardly had the word spoken, And turnd her round about, When the bonny Earl of Livingston Was calling Maisry out. 91C.3 Upon a bonny milk-white steed, That drank out o the Tyne, And a’ was for her Lady Maisry, To take her hyne and hyne. 91C.4 Upon a bonny milk-white steed, That drank out o the Tay, And a’ was for her Lady Maisry, To carry her away. 91C.5 She had not been at Livingston A twelve month and a day, Until she was as big wi bairn As any ladie coud gae. 91C.6 She calld upon her little foot-page, Says, Ye maun run wi speed, And bid my mother come to me, For of her I’ll soon have need. 91C.7 ‘See, there is the brootch frae my hause-bane, It is of gowd sae ried; Gin she winna come when I’m alive, Bid her come when I am dead.’ 91C.8 But ere she wan to Livingston, As fast as she coud ride, The gaggs they were in Maisry’s mouth, And the sharp sheers in her side. 91C.9 Her good lord wrang his milk-white hands, Till the gowd rings flaw in three: ‘Let ha’s and bowers and a’ gae waste, My bonny love’s taen frae me!’ 91C.10 ‘O hold your tongue, Lord Livingston, Let a’ your mourning be; For I bare the bird between my sides, Yet I maun thole her to die.’ 91C.11 Then out it spake her sister dear, As she sat at her head: ‘That man is not in Christendoom Shall gar me die sicken dead.’ 91C.12 ‘O hold your tongue, my ae daughter, Let a’ your folly be, For ye shall be married ere this day week Tho the same death you should die.’
91D.1 ‘HERE it is was sisters seven, And five is died with child; Was non but you and I, Hellen, And we’se be maidens mild.’ 91D.2 They hadna been maidens o bonny Snawdon A twalvemonth and a day, When lairds and lords a courting came, Seeking Mary away. 91D.3 The bonny laird of Livingstone, He liket Mary best; He gae her a ring, a royal ring, And he wedded her at last. 91D.4 She hed na been lady o Livingstone A twalvemonth and a day, When she did go as big wi bairn As iver a woman could be. * * * * * 91D.7 The knights were wringin their white fingers, And the ladys wer tearin their hair; It was a’ for the lady o Livingstone, For a word she never spake mare. 91D.8 Out and spake her sister Hellen, Where she sat by her side; ‘The man shall never be born,’ she said, ‘Shall ever make me his bride. 91D.9 ‘The man,’ she said, ’That would merry me, I’de count him but a feel, To merry me at Whitsunday, And bury me at Yele.’ 91D.10 Out and spak her mother dear, Whare she sat by the fire: ‘I bare this babe now from my side, Maun suffer her to die. 91D.11 ‘And I have six boys now to my oyes, And none of them were born, But a hole cut in their mother’s side, And they from it were shorne.’ 91D.12 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
91E.1 ‘ARISE, arise, dochter,’ she said, ‘My bidding to obey; The bravest lord in all Scotland This night asked you of me.’ 91E.2 ‘O haud your tongue, mother,’ she said, ‘These words they do me wrang; For gin I lye in a man’s bed, My days will no be lang. 91E.3 ‘There were seven sisters o us a’, We were a’ clad in white; And five of them were married, And in child-bed they died.’ 91E.4 ‘Ye shall not be drest in black, Nor sall ye be in broun; But ye’se be drest in shining gowd, To gae glittering thro the town. 91E.5 ‘Your father sall ride before you,’ she said, ‘And your brother sall ride ahin; Your horses fore-feet siller shod, And his hind anes wi gowd shall shine. 91E.6 ‘Wi four and twenty buirdlie men Atween ye and the wun, And four and twenty bonnie mays Atween ye and the sun. 91E.7 ‘Four and twenty milk-white geese, Stretching their wings sae wide, Blawing the dust aff the high-way, That Mild Mary may ride.’ 91E.8 They took to them their milk-white steeds, Set her upon a grey, And wi a napkin in her hand Weeping she rade away. 91E.9 O they rade on that lee-lang nicht, And part o the neist day also, And syne she saw her auld good mother Stand in the gates below. 91E.10 ‘You’r welcome, welcome, dochter,’ she said, ‘To your biggins and your bowers;’ ‘I thank ye kindly, mither,’ she said, ‘But I doubt they’ll sune be yours.’ * * * * *
91F.1 ‘O WE were seven brave sisters, Five of us died wi child, And nane but you and I, Maisry, so we’ll gae maidens mild.’ 91F.2 ‘O had your tongue, now Lady Margaret, Let a’ your folly be; I’ll gar you keep your true promise To the lad ayont the sea.’ 91F.3 ‘O there is neither lord nor knight My love shall ever won, Except it be Lord Darlington, And here he winna come.’ 91F.4 But when the hour o twall was past, And near the hour o one, Lord Darlington came to the yetts, Wi thirty knights and ten. 91F.5 Then he has wedded Lady Margaret, And brought her oer the sea, And there was nane that lived on earth Sae happy as was she. 91F.6 But when nine months were come and gane Strong travailling took she, And nae physician in the land Could ease her maladie. 91F.7 ‘Where will I get a little wee boy, Will won baith meat and fee, That will gae on to Seaton’s yetts, Bring my mother to me?’ 91F.8 ‘O here am I, a little wee boy, That will won meat and fee, That will gae on to Seaton’s yetts, And bring your mother to thee.’ 91F.9 Then he is on to Seaton’s yetts, As fast as gang could he; Says, Ye must come to Darlington, Your daughter for to see. 91F.10 But when she came to Darlington, Where there was little pride, The scobbs were in the lady’s mouth, The sharp sheer in her side. 91F.11 Darlington stood on the stair, And gart the gowd rings flee: ‘My ha’s and bowers and a’ shall gae waste, If my bonny love die for me.’ 91F.12 ‘O had your tongue, Lord Darlington, Let a’ your folly be; I boor the bird within my sides, I’ll suffer her to die. 91F.13 ‘But he that marries my daughter, I think he is a fool; If he marries her at Candlemas, She’ll be frae him ere Yule. 91F.14 ‘I had seven ance in companie, This night I go my lane; And when I come to Clyde’s water, I wish that I may drown.’
91[G].1 ‘We was sisters, we was seven, Five of us dayed we child, An you an me, Burd Ellen, Sall live maidens mild.’ 91[G.2] Ther came leards, and ther came lords, An knights of high degree, A’ courting Lady Messry, Bat it widne deei. 91[G.3] Bat the bonny lord of Livenston, He was flour of them a’, The bonny lord of Livenston, He stole the lady awaa. 91[G.4] Broad was the horses hoves That dumped the water of Clide, An a’ was for honor of that gay lady That day she was Livenston’s bride. 91[G.5] Fan she came to Livenston Mukell mirth was ther; The knights knaked ther whit fingers The ladys curled ther hear. 91[G.6] She had no ben in Livenston A tuall-month an a day, Till she was as big we bearn As a lady coud gaa. 91[G.7] She had ne ben in Livenston A tuall-month an a hour, Till for the morning of the may The couldne ane come near her bour. 91[G.8] ‘Far will I gett a bonny boy That will rean my earend shoun, That will goo to leve London, To my mother, the quin?’ 91[G.9] ‘Hear am I, a bonny boy Will rin yer earend sune, That will rin on to fair London, To yer mother, the quin.’ 91[G.10] ‘Hear is the bruch fra my breast-bane, The garlands fra my hear; Ye ge that to my mider, Fra me she’ll never gett mare. 91[G.11] ‘Hear is the rosses fra my shoun, The ribbons fra my hear; Ye gee that to my mider, Fra me she’ll never gett mare. 91[G.12] ‘Hear is my briddel-stand, It is a’ goud to the heam; Ye gie that to Burd Ellen, Forbed her to marry men. 91[G.13] ‘Ye bid them and ye pray them bath, If they will dou it for my sake, If they be not att my death, To be att my leak-wake. 91[G.14] ‘Ye bid them and ye pray them baith, If they will dou it for my name, If they be not att my leak-wake, To be att my birrien.’ 91[G.15] Fan he came to grass grouen, He strated his bou an rane, An fan he came to brigs broken He slaked his bou an swam. 91[G.16] An fan he came to yon castell, He bad nether to chap nor caa, But sait his bent bou to his breast An lightly lap the waa; Or the porter was att the gate, The boy was in the haa. 91[G.17] ‘Mukell meatt is on yer table, lady, A littil of it is eaten, Bat the bonny lady of Livenston Ye have her clean forgotten.’ 91[G.18] ‘Ye lie, ye lie, ye bonny boy, Sae loud as I hear ye lie; Mukell ha I sold the [meatt], An littel hae I bought, Batt the bonny lady of Livenston Gass never out of my thought. 91[G.19] ‘Mukell have I bought, bonny boy, An littel haa I sale, Bat the bonny lady of Livenston She couls my heart fue cale.’ 91[G.20] ‘Hear is the ribbings fra her hear, The roses fra her shoun; I was bidden gie that to her midder, To her midder, the quin. 91[G.21] ‘Hear is the bruch fra her breast-bean, The garlands frae her hear; I was bidden gee that to her mother, Fra her she’ll never gett mare. 91[G.22] ‘Hear is her bridell-stand, The’r a’ goud to the heam; I was bidden ga that to Burd Ellen, Forbid her to marry man. 91[G.23] ‘She bids ye on she prays ye bath, Gin yee’ll di et for her sake, If ye be not att her death, To be att her leak-wake. 91[G.24] ‘She bids yee an she prays ye bath, Gine ye’ll dou et for her name, If ye be not att her leak-wake, To be at her burrien.’ 91[G.25] ‘Garr saddell to me the blak, Saddle to me the broun, Gar saddel to me the suiftest stead That ever read fraa a toun, Till I gaa to Livenston An see hou Measry fairs.’ 91[G.26] The first stead was saddled to her, It was the bonny black; She spured him aftt and she spared him na, An she tayened him at a slap. 91[G.27] The neast stead that was saddled to her Was the berrey-broun; She spured him aftt an she spared him not, An she tayned him att a toun. 91[G.28] The neast an steed that was saddled to her, It was the milk-white: ‘Fair faa the mear that folled the foll Had me to Meassry’s leak!’ 91[G.29] Fan she came to Livenston, Mukel dolle was ther; The knights wrang ther whit fingers, The ladys tore ther hear. 91[G.30] The knights they wrang ther whit fingers, The rings they flue in four: ‘Latt haas an tours an a’ doun fau! My dear thing has gine it our.’ 91[G.31] Our spak him Livenston, An a sorry man was he; ‘I had rader lost the lands of Livenston, Afor my gay lady.’ 91[G.32] ‘Had yer toung nou, Livenston, An latt yer folly be; I bare the burd in my bosom, I man thole to see her diee.’ 91[G.33] Fan she came to her doughter’s boure, Ther was littel pride; The scoups was in her doughter’s mouth, An the sharp shirrs in her side. 91[G.34] Out spake her Burd Ellen, An she spake ay threu pride; The wife sall never bear the sin Sall lay doun by my side. 91[G.35] ‘Had your toung nou, Burd Ellen, Ye latt yer folly a be; Dinn ye mind that ye promised yer love To him that is ayond the seaa?’ 91[G.36] ‘Hold yer toung, my mother, Ye speak just leak a fooll; Tho I wer marred att Martimes, I wad be dead or Yeull.’ 91[G.37] ‘I have five bonny oyes att heam, Ther was never ane of them born, Bat every ane of them Out of ther midder’s sides shorn.’