The Kitchie-Boy
No: 252; variant: 252A
- THERE was a lady fair,
An een a lady of birth an fame,
She eyed her father's kitchen-boy,
The greater was her shame.
- She could never her love reveal,
Nor to him talk,
But in the forest wide an brade,
Where they were wont to walk.
- It fell ance upon a day
Her father gaed frae home,
And she sent for the kitchen-boy
To her own room.
- 'Canna ye fancy me, Willie?
Canna ye fancy me?
By a' the lords I ever saw
There is nane I loo but ye.'
- 'O latna this be kent, lady,
O latna this be . . ,
For gin yer father got word of this
I vou he'd gar me die.'
- 'Yer life shall no be taen, Willie,
Yer life sal na be taen;
I wad er loss my ain heart's blood
Or thy body gat wrang.'
- Wi her monny fair speeches
She made the boy bold,
Till he began to kiss an clap,
An on her sine lay hold.
- They hadna kissed an love claped,
As lovers whan they meet,
. . . .
. . . .
- 'The master-cook he will on me call,
An answered he man be;
An it wer kent I war in bower wi thee,
I fear they wad gar me die.'
- 'The master-cook may on ye call,
But answerd he will never be,
. . . .
. . . .
- 'For I hae three coffers fu o goud,
Yer eyen did never see,
An I will build a bonny ship for my love,
An set her to the sea,
And sail she east or sail she wast
The ship sal be fair to see.'
- She has built a bonny ship,
And set her to the sea;
The topmasts war o the red goud,
The sails of tafetie.
- She gae him a gay goud ring,
. . .
To ming him on a gay lady
That ance bear love to him.
- The day was fair, the ship was rare,
Whan that swain set to sea;
Whan that day twal-moth came and gaed,
At London landed he.
- A lady looked our the castle-wa,
Beheld the day gae down,
And she beheld that bonny ship
Come hailing to the town.
- 'Come here, come here, my maries a',
Ye see na what I see;
The bonniest ship is come to land
Yer eyes did ever see.
- 'Gae busk ye, busk ye, my maries a',
Busk ye unco fine,
Till I gae down to yon shore-side,
To invite yon squar to dine.
- 'O ye come up, gay young squar,
An take wi me a dine;
Ye sal eat o the guid white loaf,
An drink the claret wine.'
- 'I thank ye for yer bread,
I thank ye for yer wine,
I that ye for yer courticie,
But indeed I hanna time.'
- 'Canna ye fancy me?' she says,
'Canna ye fancy me?
O a' the lords an lairds I see
There's nane I fancy but ye.'
- 'The'r far awa fra me,' he says,
'The'r clean ayont the sea,
That has my heart in hand,
An my love ae sal be.'
- 'Here is a guid goud ring,
. . .
It will mind ye on a gay lady
That ance bare love to ye.'
- 'I ha a ring on my finger
I loe thrice as well as thine,
Tho yours were o the guid red goud
An mine but simple tin.'
- The day was fair, the ship was rare,
Whan that squar set to sea;
Whan that day twal-month came an gaed,
At hame again landed he.
- The lady's father looked our castle-wa,
To see the day gae cown,
An he beheld that bonny ship
Come hailing to the town.
- 'Come here, my daughter,
Ye see na what I see;
The bonniest ship is come to land
My eyes did ever see.
- 'Gae busk ye, my dochter,
G[a]e busk ye unco fine,
An I'll gae down to yon shore-side,
To invite the squar to dine;
I wad gie a' my rents
To hae ye married to him.'
- The'r far awa frae me,' she says,
'Far ayont the sea,
That has my heart in hand
An my love ai sal be.'
- 'O will ye come, ye gay hine squar,
An take wi me a dine?
Ye sal eat o the guid white bread,
And drink the claret wine.'
- 'I thank ye for yer bread,
I thank ye for yer wine,
I thank ye for yer courticie,
For indeed I hanna grait time.
- 'O canna ye fancy me?' he says,
'O canna ye fancy me?
O a' the ladys I eer did see
There's nane I loo by ye.'
- 'They are far awa fra me.' she says,
'The'r far ayont the sea,
That has my heart in hand,
An my love ay sall be.'
- 'Here it is, a gay goud ring,
. . .
It will mind ye on a gay hin chil
That ance bare love to ye.'
- 'O gat ye that ring on the sea sailing?
Or gat ye it on the land?
O gat ye it on the shore laying,
On a drowned man's hand?'
- 'I got na it on the sea sailing,
I got na it on the land,
But I got it on the shore lying,
On a drowned man's hand.
- 'O bonny was his cheek,
An lovely was his face!'
'Allas!' says she, 'it is my true-love Willie,'
. . .
- He turned him round about,
An sweetly could he smile;
She turned her round, says, My love Willie,
How could ye me beguile?
- 'A priest! a priest!' the old man cries,
'An lat this twa married be:'
Little did the old man kin
It was his ain kitchen-boy.