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241A.1 THE Laird of Leys is on to Edinbrugh, To shaw a fit o his follie; He drest himsel in the crimson-brown, An he provd a rantin laddie. 241A.2 Ben came a weel-faird lass, Says, Laddie, how do they ca ye? ‘They ca me this, an they ca me that, Ye wudna ken fat they ca me; But whan I’m at home on bonnie Deeside They ca me The Rantin Laddie.’ 241A.3 They sought her up, they sought her down, They sought her in the parlour; She couldna be got but whar she was, In the bed wi The Rantin Laddie. 241A.4 ‘Tell me, tell me, Baron of Leys, Ye tell me how they ca ye! Your gentle blood moves in my side, An I dinna ken how they ca ye.’ 241A.5 ‘They ca me this, an they ca me that, Ye couldna ken how they ca me; But whan I’m at home on bonnie Deeside They ca me The Rantin Laddie.’ 241A.6 ‘Tell me, tell me, Baron of Leys, Ye tell mo how they ca ye! Your gentle blood moves in my side, An I dinna ken how to ca ye.’ 241A.7 ‘Baron of Leys, it is my stile, Alexander Burnett they ca me; Whan I’m at hame on bonnie Deeside My name is The Rantin Laddie.’ 241A.8 ‘Gin your name be Alexander Burnett, Alas that ever I saw ye! For ye hae a wife and bairns at hame, An alas for lyin sae near ye! 241A.9 ‘But I’se gar ye be headit or hangt, Or marry me the morn, Or else pay down ten thousand crowns For giein o me the scorn.’ 241A.10 ‘For my head, I canna want; I love my lady dearly; But some o my lands I maun lose in the case, Alas for lyin sae near ye!’ 241A.11 Word has gane to the Lady of Leys That the laird he had a bairn; The warst word she said to that was, ‘I wish I had it in my arms. 241A.12 ‘For I will sell my jointure-lands-+--+- I am broken an I’m sorry-+--+- An I’ll sell a’, to my silk gowns, An get hame my rantin laddie.’
241B.1 THE Laird o Leys is to London gane; He was baith full and gawdie; For he shod his steed wi siller guid, And he’s playd the ranting laddie. 241B.2 He hadna been in fair London A twalmonth and a quarter, Till he met wi a weel-faurd may, Wha wishd to know how they ca’d him. 241B.3 ‘They ca me this, and they ca me that, And they’re easy how they’ve ca’d me; But whan I’m at hame on bonnie Deeside They ca me The Ranting Laddie.’ 241B.4 ‘Awa wi your jesting, sir,’ she said, ‘I trow you’re a ranting laddie; But something swells atween my sides, And I maun ken how they ca thee.’ 241B.5 ‘They ca me this, and they ca me that, And they’re easy how they ca me; The Baron o Leys my title is, And Sandy Burnet they ca me.’ 241B.6 ‘Tell down, tell down ten thousand crowns, Or ye maun marry me the morn; Or headit of hangit ye sall be, For ye sanna gie me the scorn.’ 241B.7 ‘My head’s the thing I canna weel want; My lady she loves me dearlie; Nor yet hae I means ye to maintain; Alas for the lying sae near thee!’ 241B.8 But word’s gane doun to the Lady o Leys That the Baron had got a babie: ‘The waurst o news!’ my lady she said, ‘I wish I had hame my laddie. 241B.9 ‘But I’ll sell aff my jointure-house, Tho na mair I sud be a ladie; I’ll sell a’ to my silken goun, And bring hame my rantin laddie.’ 241B.10 So she is on to London gane, And she paid the money on the morn; She paid it doun and brought him hame, And gien them a’ the scorn.
241C.1 THE Baron o Leys to France is gane, The fashion and tongue to learn, But hadna been there a month or twa Till he gat a lady wi bairn. 241C.2 But it fell ance upon a day The lady mournd fu sairlie; Says, Who’s the man has me betrayed? It gars me wonder and fairlie. 241C.3 Then to the fields to him she went, Saying, Tell me what they ca thee; Or else I’ll mourn and rue the day, Crying, alas that ever I saw thee! 241C.4 ‘Some ca’s me this, some ca’s me that, I carena fat befa me; For when I’m at the schools o France An awkward fellow they ca me.’ 241C.5 ‘Wae’s me now, ye awkward fellow, And alas that ever I saw thee! Wi you I’m in love, sick, sick in love, And I kenna well fat they ca thee.’ 241C.6 ‘Some ca’s me this, some ca’s me that, What name does best befa me; For when I walk in Edinburgh streets The Curling Buckle they ca me.’ 241C.7 ‘O wae’s me now, O Curling Buckle, And alas that ever I saw thee! For I’m in love, sick, sick in love, And I kenna well fat they ca thee.’ 241C.8 ‘Some ca’s me this, some ca’s me that, Whatever name best befa’s me; But when I’m in Scotland’s king’s high court Clatter the Speens they ca me.’ 241C.9 ‘O wae’s me now, O Clatter the Speens, And alas that ever I saw thee! For I’m in love, sick, sick in love, And I kenna well fat to ca thee.’ 241C.10 ‘Some ca’s me this, some ca’s me that, I carena what they ca me; But when wi the Earl o Murray I ride It’s Scour the Brass they ca me.’ 241C.11 ‘O wae’s me now, O Scour the Brass, And alas that ever I saw thee! For I’m in love, sick, sick in love, Amd I kenna well fat to ca thee.’ 241C.12 ‘Some ca’s me this, some ca’s me that, Whatever name best befa’s me; But when I walk thro Saint Johnstone’s town George Burnett they ca me.’ 241C.13 ‘O wae’s me, O wae’s me, George Burnett, And alas that ever I saw thee! For I’m in love, sick, sick in love, And I kenna well fat to ca thee.’ 241C.14 ‘Some ca’s me this, some ca’s me that, Whatever name best befa’s me; But when I am on bonny Dee side The Baron o Leys they ca me.’ 241C.15 ‘O weal is me now, O Baron o Leys, This day that ever I saw thee! There’s gentle blood within my sides, And now [I] ken fat they ca thee. 241C.16 ‘But ye’ll pay down ten thousand crowns, Or marry me the morn; Else I’ll cause you be headed or hangd For gieing me the scorn.’ 241C.17 ‘My head is a thing I cannot well want; My lady loves me sae dearly; But I’ll deal the gold right liberally For lying ae night sae near thee.’ 241C.18 When word had gane to the Lady o Leys The baron had gotten a bairn, She clapped her hands, and this did say, ‘I wish he were in my arms! 241C.19 ‘O weal is me now, O Baron o Leys, For ye hae pleased me sairly; Frae our house is banishd the vile reproach That disturbed us late and early.’ 241C.20 When she looked ower her castle-wa, To view the woods sae rarely, There she spied the Baron o Leys Ride on his steed sae rarely. 241C.21 Then forth she went her baron to meet, Says, Ye’re welcome to me, fairly! Ye’se hae spice-cakes, and seed-cakes sweet, And claret to drink sae rarely.