# The English and Scottish Popular Ballads/Part 6/Chapter 157

A
'HAD we a king,' said Wallace then, 'That our kind Scots might live by their own! But betwixt me and the English blood I think there is an ill seed sown.' Wallace him over a river lap, He lookd low down to a linn; He was war of a gay lady Was even at the well washing. 'Well mot ye fare, fair madam,' he said, 'And ay well mot ye fare and see! Have ye any tidings me to tell, I pray you'll show them unto me.' RR'rri have no tidings you to tell, Nor yet no tidings you to ken; But into that hostler's house There's fifteen of your Englishmen. 'And they are seeking Wallace there, For they've ordained him to be slain:' 'O God forbid!' said Wallace then, 'For he's oer good a kind Scotsman. RR'Brrut had I money me upon, And evn this day, as I have none, Then would I to that hostler's house, And evn as fast as I could gang.' She put her hand in her pocket, She told him twenty shillings oer her knee; Then he took off both hat and hood, And thankd the lady most reverently. 'If eer I come this way again, Well paid [your] money it shall be;' Then he took off both hat and hood, And he thankd the lady most reverently. He leand him twofold oer a staff, So did he threefold oer a tree, And he's away to the hostler's house, Even as fast as he might dree. When he came to the hostler's house, He said, Good-ben be here! quoth he: An English captain, being deep load, He asked him right cankerdly, Where was you born, thou crooked carle, And in what place, and what country? 'Tis I was born in fair Scotland, A crooked carle although I be.' The English captain swore by th' rood, 'We are Scotsmen as well as thee, And we are seeking Wallace; then To have him merry we should be.' 'The man,' said Wallace, 'ye're looking for, I seed him within these days three; And he has slain an English captain, And ay the fearder the rest may be.' 'I'd give twenty shillings,' said the captain, 'To such a crooked carle as thee, If you would take me to the place Where that I might proud Wallace see.' 'Hold out your hand,' said Wallace then, 'And show your money and be free, For tho you'd bid an hundred pound, I never bade a better bode'[, said he]. He struck the captain oer the chafts, Till that he never chewed more; He stickd the rest about the board, And left them all a sprawling there. 'Rise up, goodwife,' said Wallace then, 'And give me something for to eat; For it's near two days to an end Since I tasted one bit of meat.' His board was scarce well covered, Nor yet his dine well scantly dight, Till fifteen other Englishmen Down all about the door did light. 'Come out, come out,' said they, 'Wallace!' then, 'For the day is come that ye must die;' And they thought so little of his might, But ay the fearder they might be. The wife ran but, the gudeman ran ben, It put them all into a fever; Then five he sticked where they stood, And five he trampled in the gutter. And five he chased to yon green wood, He hanged them all out-oer a grain; And gainst the morn at twelve o'clock, He dined with his kind Scottish men.
B
'I WISH we had a king,' says Wallace, 'That Scotland might not want a head; In England and in Scotland baith, I'm sure that some have sowed ill seed.' Wallace he oer the water did luke, And he luked law down by a glen, And he was aware of a gay lady, As she was at the well washing. 'Weel may ye save, fair lady!' he says, 'Far better may ye save and see! If ye have ony tidings to tell, I pray cum tell them a' to me.' 'I have no tidings you to tell, And as few tidings do I ken; But up and to yon ostler-house Are just gane fifteen gentlemen. 'They now are seeking Gude Wallace, And ay they're damning him to hang;' 'Oh God forbid,' says Wallace then, 'I'm sure he is a true Scotsman. 'Had I but ae penny in my pocket, Or in my company ae baubee, I woud up to yon ostler-house, A' these big gentlemen to see.' She pat her hand into her pocket, She powd out twenty shillings and three: 'If eer I live to come this way, Weel payed shall your money be.' He leaned him twafold oer a staff, Sae did he twafold oer a tree, And he's gane up to the ostler-house, A' these fine gentlemen to see. When he cam up among them a', He bad his benison be there; The captain, being weel buke-learnd, Did answer him in domineer. 'Where was ye born, ye cruked carl, Or in what town, or what countree?' 'O I was born in fair Scotland, A cruked carl although I be.' The captain sware by the root of his sword, Saying, I'm a Scotsman as weel as thee; Here's twenty shillings of English money To such a cruked carl as thee, If thou'll tell me of that Wallace; He's ay the creature I want to see. 'O hawd your hand,' says Wallace then, 'I'm feard your money be not gude; If 'twere as muckle and ten times mair, It should not bide another bode.' He's taen the captain alang the chaps, A wat he never chawed mair; The rest he sticked about the table, And left them a' a sprawling there. 'Gude wife,' he said, 'For my benison, Get up and get my dinner dight; For it is twa days till an end Syne I did taste ane bit of meat.' Dinner was not weel made ready, Nor yet upon the table set, When fifteen other Englishmen Alighted all about the yate. 'Come out, come out now, Wallace,' they say, 'For this is the day ye are to dee; Ye trust sae mickle in God's might, And ay the less we do fear thee.' The gude wife ran but, the gude man ran ben, They pat the house all in a swither; Five sune he sticked where he stude, And five he smitherd in a gutter. Five he chac'd to the gude green-wood, And hanged them a' out-oer a pin; And at the morn at eight o'clock He din'd with his men at Lough-mabin.
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'O FOR my ain king,' quo Gude Wallace, 'The rightfu king of fair Scotland! Between me and my soverign blude I think I see some ill seed sawn.' Wallace out over yon river he lap, And he has lighted low down on yon plain, And he was aware of a gay ladie, As she was at the well washing. 'What tydins, what tydins, fair lady?' he says, 'What tydins hast thou to tell unto me? What tydins, what tydins, fair lady?' he says, 'What tydins hae ye in the south countrie?' 'Low down in yon wee ostler-house There is fyfteen Englishmen, And they are seekin for Gude Wallace, It's him to take and him to hang.' 'There's nocht in my purse,' quo Gude Wallace, There's nocht, not even a bare pennie; But I will down to yon wee ostler-house, Thir fyfteen Englishmen to see.' And when he cam to yon wee ostler-house He bad bendicite be there; . . . . . . . . 'Where was ye born, auld crookit carl? Where was ye born, in what countrie?' 'I am a true Scot born and bred, And an auld crookit carl just sic as ye see.' 'I wad gie fifteen shillings to onie crookit carl, To onie crookit carl just sic as ye, If ye will get me Gude Wallace; For he is the man I wad very fain see.' He hit the proud captain alang the chafft-blade, That never a bit o meal he ate mair; And he sticket the rest at the table where they sat, And he left them a' lyin sprawlin there. 'Get up, get up, gudewife,' he says, 'And get to me some dinner in haste; For it will soon be three lang days Sin I a bit o meat did taste.' The dinner was na weel readie, Nor was it on the table set, Till other fifteen Englishmen Were a' lighted about the yett. 'Come out, come out now, Gude Wallace! This is the day that thou maun die:' 'I lippen nae sae little to God,' he says, 'Altho I be but ill wordie.' The gudewife had an auld gudeman; By Gude Wallace he stiffly stood; Till ten o the fyfteen Englishmen Before the door lay in their blude. The other five to the greenwood ran, And he hangd these five upon a grain, And on the morn, wi his merry men a', He sat at dine in Lochmaben town.
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'I WISH we had our king,' quo Gude Wallace, 'An ilka true Scotsman had his nawn; For between us an the southron louns I doubt some ill seed has been sawn.' Wallace he owre the water gaed, An looked low down by a glen, An there he saw a pretty, pretty maid, As she was at the well washin. 'O weel may ye wash, my bonny, bonny maid! An weel may ye saep, an me to see! If ye have ony tidins to tell, I pray you tell them unto me.' 'I have no tidins for to tell, Nor ony uncos do I ken; But up into yon little alehouse An there sits fyfteen Englishmen. 'An ay they are speakin o Gude Wallace, An ay they are doomin him to hang:' 'O forbid!' quo Gude Wallace, 'He's owre truehearted a Scotsman. 'Had I but a penny in my pouch, As I have not a single bawbee, I would up into yon little alehouse, An ay thae southron blades to see.' She's put her hand into her pouch, An counted him out pennies three; 'If ever I live to come back this way, Weel paid the money it shall be.' He's taen a staff into his hand, An leand himsel outowre a tree, An he's awa to yon little alehouse, An ay the southron louns to see. When he gaed in to that little alehouse, He bad his bennison be there; The captain answered him [in] wrath, He answerd him with domineer. 'O whare was ye born, ye crooked auld carle? An how may this your dwellin be?' 'O I was born in fair Scotland, A crooked carle altho I be.' 'O I would een gie twenty shillins To ony sic crooked carle as thee That wad find me out Gude Wallace; For ay that traitor I lang to see.' 'Haud out your hand,' quo Gude Wallace, 'I doubt your money be not gude; If ye'll gie ither twenty shillins, It neer shall bide ye anither bode.' He's taen the captain outowre the jaws, Anither word spak he neer mair; An five he sticket whare they sat, The rest lay scramblin here an there. 'Get up, get up, gudewife,' he says, 'An get some meat ready for me, For I hae fasted this three lang days; A wat right hungry I may be.' The meat it wasna weel made ready, Nor as weel on the table set, Till there cam fyfteen Englishmen An lighted a' about the yett. The gudewife ran but, the gudeman ran ben; It put them a' in sic a stoure That five he sticket whare they sat, An five lay sprawlin at the door. An five are to the greenwood gane, An he's hangd them a' outowre a tree, An before the mornin at twal o clock He dined wi his men at Loch Marie.
E
WILLIE WALLACE the water lap, And lighted low down in a glen; There he came to a woman washing, And she had washers nine or ten. 'O weel may ye wash!' said Willie Wallace, 'O weel may ye wash!' said fair Willie, 'And gin ye have any tidings to tell, I pray ye tell them unto me.' 'I have nae tidings for to tell, And as few will I let ye ken; But down into yon hosteler-ha Lies fifteen English gentlemen.' 'O had I ae penny in my pocket, O had I yet ane bare bawbee, I would go to yon hosteler-ha, All for these Englishmen to see. 'O wil ye len me ane pennie, Or will ye len me a bare bawbee, I would go to yon hosteler-ha, All for these Englishmen to see.' She's put her hand into her pocket, And she's gaen him out guineas three, And he's away to yon ostler-ha, All for these Englishmen to see. Before he came to the hosteler-ha, He linkit his armour oer a tree; These Englishmen, being weel book-learned, They said to him, Great Dominie! Where was ye born, ye crookit carle? Where was ye born, or in what countrie? 'In merry Scotland I was born, A crookit carle altho I be.' 'Here's fifteen shillings,' one of them said, 'Here's other fifteen I'll gie to thee, If you will tell me where the traitor Willie Wallace is, Or where away thou thinks he'll be.' 'Pay down, pay down your money,' he said, 'Pay down, pay down richt speedilie, For if your answer be not good, You shall have the downfall of Robin Hood,'[said he]. He struck the captain on the jaw, He swore that he would chow nae mair cheese; He's killed all the rest with his good broadsword, And left them wallowing on their knees. 'Go cover the table,' said Willie Wallace, 'Go cover the table, get me some meat, For it is three days and rather mair Since I did either drink or eat.' They had not the table weel covered, Nor yet the candle weel gaen licht, Till fifteen other Englishmen They a' down at the door did light. 'Come out, come out, Willie Wallace,' they said. 'Come out, come out, and do not flee, For we have sworn by our good broadswords That this is the nicht that you sall dee.' He's killed five with his good broadsword, He's drowned other five in the raging sea, And he's taen other five to the merry greenwood, And hanged them oer the highest tree.
F
WALLACE in the high highlans, Neither meat nor drink got he; Said, fa me life, or fa me death, Now to some town I maun be. He's put on his short claiding, And on his short claiding put he; Says, Fa me life, or fa me death, Now to Perth-town I maun be. He steped oer the river Tay, I wat he steped on dry land; He was aware of a well-fared maid, Was washing there her lilie hands. 'What news, what news, ye well-fared maid? What news hae ye this day to me?' 'No news, no news, ye gentle knight, No news hae I this day to thee, But fifteen lords in the hostage-house Waiting Wallace for to see.' 'If I had but in my pocket The worth of one single pennie, I would go to the hostage-house, And there the gentlemen to see.' She put her hand in her pocket, And she has pulld out half-a-crown; Says, Take ye that, ye belted knight, 'Twill pay your way till ye come down. As he went from the well-fared maid, A beggar bold I wat met he, Was coverd wi a clouted cloak, And in his hand a trusty tree. 'What news, what news, ye silly auld man? What news hae ye this day to gie?' 'No news, no news, ye belted knight, No news hae I this day to thee, But fifteen lords in the hostage-house Waiting Wallace for to see.' 'Ye'll lend me your clouted cloak, That covers you frae head to shie, And I'll go to the hostage-house, Asking there for some supplie.' Now he's gone to the West-muir wood, And there he's pulld a trusty tree; And then he's on to the hostage gone, Asking there for charitie. n the stair the captain comes, Aye the poor man for to see: 'If ye be a captain as good as ye look, Ye'll give a poor man some supplie; If ye be a captain as good as ye look, A guinea this day ye'll gie to me.' 'Where were ye born, ye crooked carle? Where were ye born, in what countrie?' In fair Scotland I was born, Crooked carle that I be.' 'I would give you fifty pounds, Of gold and white monie, I would give you fifty pounds, If the traitor Wallace ye'd let me see.' 'Tell down your money,' said Willie Wallace, 'Tell down your money, if it be good; I'm sure I have it in my power, And never had a better bode. 'Tell down your money,' said Willie Wallace, 'And let me see if it be fine; I'm sure I have it in my Ower To bring the traitor Wallace in.' The money was told on the table, Silver bright of pounds fiftie; 'Now here I stand,' said Willie Wallace, 'And what hae ye to say to me?' He slew the captain where he stood, The rest they did quack and roar; He slew the rest around the room, And askd if there were any more. 'Come, cover the table,' said Willie Wallace, 'Come, cover the table now, make haste; For it will soon be three lang days Sin I a bit o meat did taste.' The table was not well covered, Nor yet was he set down to dine, Till fifteen more of the English lords Surrounded the house where he was in. The guidwife she ran but the floor, And aye the guidman he ran ben; From eight o clock till four at noon He has killd full thirty man. He put the house in sick a swither That five o them he sticket dead, Five o them he drownd in the river, And five hung in the West-muir wood. Now he is on to the North-Inch gone, Where the maid was washing tenderlie; 'Now by my sooth,' said Willie Wallace, 'It's been a sair day's wark to me.' He's put his hand in his pocket, And he has pulld out twenty pounds; Says, Take ye that, ye weel-fared maid, For the gude luck of your half-crown.
G
WOUD ye hear of William Wallace, An sek him as he goes, Into the lan of Lanark, Amang his mortal faes? There was fyften English sogers Unto his ladie cam, Said, Gie us William Wallace, That we may have him slain. Woud ye gie William Wallace, That we may have him slain, And ye's be wedded to a lord, The best in Christendeem. 'This verra nicht at seven, Brave Wallace will come in, And he'll come to my chamber-door, Without or dread or din.' The fyften English sogers Around the house did wait, And four brave southron foragers Stood hie upon the gait. That verra nicht at seven Brave Wallace he came in, And he came to his ladie's bouir, Withouten dread or din. When she beheld him Wallace, She star'd him in the face; 'Ohon, alas!' said that ladie, 'This is a woful case. 'For I this nicht have sold you, This nicht you must be taen, And I'm to be wedded to a lord, The best in christendeem.' 'Do you repent,' said Wallace, 'The ill you've dane to me?' 'Ay, that I do,' said that ladie, 'And will do till I die. 'Ay, that I do,' said that ladie, 'And will do ever still, And for the ill I've dane to you, Let me burn upon a hill.' 'Now God forfend,' says brave Wallace, 'I shoud be so unkind; Whatever I am to Scotland's faes, I'm aye a woman's friend. 'Will ye gie me your gown, your gown, Your gown but and your kirtle, Your petticoat of bonny brown, And belt about my middle? 'I'll take a pitcher in ilka hand, And do me to the well; They'll think I'm one of your maidens, Or think it is yoursell.' She has gien him her gown, her gown, Her petticoat and kirtle, Her broadest belt, wi silver clasp, To bind about his middle. He's taen a pitcher in ilka hand, And dane him to the well; They thought him one of her maidens, They kend it was nae hersell. Said one of the southron foragers, See ye yon lusty dame? I woud nae gie muckle to thee, neebor, To bring her back agen. Then all the southrons followd him, And sure they were but four; But he has drawn his trusty brand, And slew them pair by pair. He threw the pitchers frae his hands, And to the hills fled he, Until he cam to a fair may, Was washin on yon lea. 'What news, what news, ye weel-far'd may? What news hae ye to gie?' 'Ill news, ill news,' the fair may said, 'Ill news I hae to thee. 'There is fyften English sogers Into that thatched inn, Seeking Sir William Wallace; I fear that he is slain.' 'Have ye any money in your pocket? Pray lend it unto me, And when I come this way again, Repaid ye weel shall be.' She['s] put her hand in her pocket, And taen out shillings three; He turnd him right and round about, And thankd the weel-far'd may. He had not gone a long rig length, A rig length and a span, Until he met a bold beggar, As sturdy as coud gang. 'What news, what news, ye bold beggar? What news hae ye to gie?' 'O heavy news,' the beggar said, 'I hae to tell to thee. 'There is fyften English sogers, I heard them in yon inn, Vowing to kill him Wallace; I fear the chief is slain.' 'Will ye change apparell wi me, auld man? Change your apparell for mine? And when I come this way again, Ye'll be my ain poor-man.' When he got on the beggar's coat, The pike-staff in his hand, He's dane him down to yon tavern, Where they were drinking wine. 'What news, what news, ye staff-beggar? What news hae ye to gie?' 'I hae nae news, I heard nae news, As few I'll hae frae thee.' think your coat is ragged, auld man; But woud you wages win, And tell where William Wallace is, We'll lay gold in your hand.' 'Tell down, tell down your good red gold, Upon the table-head, And ye sall William Wallace see, Wi the down-come of Robin Hood.' They had nae tauld the money down, And laid it on his knee, When candles, lamps, and candlesticks, He on the floor gard flee. he had drawn his trusty brand, And slew them one by one, Then sat down at the table-head, And called for some wine. The goodwife she ran but, ran but, The goodman she ran ben, The verra bairns about the fire Were a' like to gang brain. 'Now if there be a Scotsman here, He'll come and drink wi me; But if there be an English loun, It is his time to flee.' The goodman was an Englishman, And to the hills he ran; The goodwife was a scots woman, And she came to his hand.
H
WALLACE wight, upon a night, Came riding oer the linn, And he is to his leman's bower, And tirld at the pin. 'O sleep ye, wake ye, lady?' he said, 'Ye'll rise, lat me come in.' 'O wha's this at my bower-door, That knocks, and knows my name?' 'My name is William Wallace, Ye may my errand ken.' 'The truth to you I will rehearse, The secret I'll unfold; Into your enmies' hands this night I fairly hae you sold.' 'If that be true ye tell to me, Do ye repent it sair?' 'O that I do,' she said, 'dear Wallace, And will do evermair! 'The English did surround my house, And forced me theretill; But for your sake, my dear Wallace, I coud burn on a hill.' Then he gae her a loving kiss, The tear droppd frae his ee; Says, Fare ye well for evermair, Your face nae mair I'll see. She dressd him in her ain claithing, And frae her house he came; Which made the Englishmen admire, To see this stalwart dame. He is to Saint Johnston gane, And there he playd him well; For there he saw a well-far'd may, Was washing at a well. 'What news, wnat news, ye well-far'd may? What news hae ye to me? What news, what news, ye well-far'd may, All from your north countrie?' 'See ye not yon tavern-house, That stands on yonder plain? This very day have landet in it Full fifteen Englishmen; search of Wallace, our dear champion, Ordaining that he shoud dee.' 'Then on my troth,' said Wallace wight, 'These Englishmen I'se see.'
I
'I wish I had a king,' brave Wallace he said, 'That every brave Scotsman might leave by his oun, For between me and my sovreign leige I think I see some ill [seed] sowen.' Brave Wallace out-oer yon river he lap, And he lighted low down on the plain, And he came to a gay lady, As she was at the well washing. 'Some tidings, some tidings,' brave Wallace he said, 'Some tidings ye most tell unto me; Now since we are met here togither on the plain, Some tidings ye most tell unto me.' 'O go ye down to yon wee ale-house, And there is fifeteen Englishmen, And they are seeking for good Wallace, And him to take and him for to hang.' 'I wish I had a penny in my pocket,' he says, 'Or although it were but a bare baubee, And I wad away to the wee ale-house, The fifeteen Englishmen to see.' She's put hir hand in hir left pocket, And fifeteen shillings to him she told down: 'If ever I live to come back this way, The money's be well paid agein.' He louted twafauld oer a stick, And he louted threefauld oer a tree, And he'es gane awa to the wee ale-house, The fifeteen Englishmen to see. When he came to the wee ale-house, He walked ben, says, Decencey be there! The Engilish proud captain he awnsered him, And he awnsered him with a graid domineer. 'Why, where wast thou born, thou old crooked carle? Where and of what country?' 'I am a true Scotsman bred and born, And an auld crooked carle, just sic as ye may see.' 'I wad gee fifeteen shillings,' the captain he said, 'To an auld crooked carle, just sic a ane as thee, If ye wad tell me of Willie Wallace, For he's the man I wad fain see.' 'O hold your hand,' brave Wallace he said, 'And let me see if yeer coin be good; If ye wad give fifeteen shillings more, Ye never bade a better boad.' He's tean the captain out-oer the chaft-blade, Till a bitt of meat he never did eat mair; He stickit a' the reste as the sat aroun the table, And he left them all a spraulling there. 'Get up, get up, goodwife,' he says, 'Get up and get me some denner in haste, For it is now three days and nights Since a bit of meat my mouth did taste.' The denner was not well made ready, Nor was it on the table sett, Till other fifeteen English men Were a' perading about the yett. 'Come out, come out now, Wallace,' they crys, 'For this is the place ye'es sure for [to] die;' 'I lippen not sae little to good,' he says, 'Although I be but ill-wordie.' The goodman ran butt, the goodwife ran ben, They put the house in such a fever! Five of them he sticket where they stood, And other five he smoddered in the gitter. Five of them he folowd to the merry greenwood, And these five he hangt on a grain, And gin the morn at ten o'clock He was wi his mirry men at Lochmaben.