Mary Hamilton
No: 173; variant: 173F
- my father was the Duke of York,
My mother a lady free,
Mysel a dainty demosell,
Queen Mary sent for me.
- The queen's meat, it was sae sweet,
Her colthing was sae rare,
It made me lang for Sweet Willie's bed,
An I'll rue it ever maer.
- Mary Beaton, and Mary Seaton,
And Lady Livinston, three,
We'll never meet in Queen Mary's bower,
Now Maries tho ye be.
- Queen Mary sat in her bower,
Sewing her silver seam;
She thought she heard a baby greet,
But an a lady meen.
- She threw her needle frae her,
Her seam out of her hand,
An she is on to Lady Mary's bower,
As fast as she could gang.
- 'Open your door, Lady Mary,' she says,
'And lat me come in;
For I hear baby greet,
But an a lady meen.'
- 'There is na bab in my bower, madam,
Nor never thinks to be,
But the strong pains of gravel
This night has seized me.'
- She pat her fit to the door,
But an her knee,
Baith of brass and iron bands
In flinders she gard flee.
- She pat a hand to her bed-head,
An ither to her bed-feet,
An bonny was the bab
Was blabbering in its bleed.
- 'Wae worth ye, Lady Mary,
An ill dead sall ye die!
For an ye widna kept the bonny bab,
Ye might ha sen't to me.'
- 'Lay na the wate on me, madam,
Lay na the wate on me!
For my fas love bare the brand at his side
That gared my barrine die.'
- 'Get up, Lady Beaton, get up, Lady Seton,
And Lady Livinstone three,
An we will on to Edinburgh,
An try this gay lady.'
- As she came to the Cannongate,
The burgers' wives they cryed
Hon ohon, ochree! . .
. . . .
- 'O had you still, ye burgers' wives,
An make na meen for me;
Seek never grace of a graceless face,
For they hae nane to gie.
- 'Ye merchants and ye mariners,
That trade upon the sea,
O dinna tell in my country
The dead I'm gaen to die!
- 'Ye merchants and ye mariners,
That sail upo the faeme,
O dinna tell in my country
But that I'm comin hame!
- 'Little did my father think,
Whan he brought me our the sea,
That he wad see me yellow locks
Hang on a gallow's tree.
- 'Little did my mither think
Whan she brought me fra hame,
That she maught see my yellow loks
Han[g] on a gallow-pin.
- 'O had your hand a while!
. . .
For yonder comes my father,
I'm sure he'l borrow me.
- 'O some of your goud, father,
An of your well won fee,
To save me [frae the high hill]
[And ] frae the gallow-tree!'
- 'Ye's get nane of my goud,
Nor of my well won fee,
For I would gie five hundred pown
To see ye hangit hie.'
- 'O had yer hand a while!
. . .
Yonder is my love Willie,
Sure he will borrow me.
- 'O some o your goud, my love Willie,
An some o yer well won fee,
To save me frae the high hill,
And fra the gallow-tree!'
- 'Ye's get a' my goud,
And a' my well won fee,
To save ye fra the headin-hill,
And frae the gallow-tree.'