Clerk Sanders
No: 69; variant: 69B
- CLERK SAUNDERS and a gay lady
Was walking in yonder green,
And heavy, heavy was the love
That fell this twa lovers between.
- 'A bed, a bed,' Clerk Saunders said,
'And ay a bed for you and me;'
'Never a ane,' said the gay lady,
'Till ance we twa married be.
- 'There would come a' my seven brethern,
And a' their torches burning bright,
And say, We hae but ae sister,
And behad, she's lying wi you the night.'
- 'You'll take a napkain in your hand,
And then you will tie up your een;
Then you may swear, and safe your aith,
You sawna Sandy sin yestreen.
- 'You'll take me up upo your back,
And then you'll carry me to your bed;
Then you may swear, and save your aith,
Your board [-floor] Sandy never tred.'
- She's taen him upo her back,
And she's carried him unto her bed,
That she might swear, and safe her aith,
Her board-floor Sandy never tread.
- She's taen a napkin in her hand,
And lo she did tie up her een,
That she might swear, and safe her aith,
She sawna Sandy syne yestreen.
- They were na weel into the room,
Nor yet laid weel into the bed,
. . . . .
. . . . .
- When in came a' her seven brethern,
And a' their torches burning bright;
Says they, We hae but ae sister,
And behold, she's lying wi you this night.
- 'I,' bespake the first o them,
A wat an ill death mat he die!
'I bear a brand into my hand
Shall quickly gar Clerk Saunders die.'
- 'I,' bespake the second of them,
A wat a good death mat he die!
'We will gae back, let him alane,
His father has nae mair but he.'
- 'I,' bespake the third o them,
A wat an ill death mat he die!
'I bear the brand into my hand
Shall quickly help to gar him die.'
- 'I,' bespake the fourth o them,
A wat an ill death mat he die!
'I bear the brand into my hand
Shall never help to gar him die.'
- 'I,' bespake the fifth o them,
A wat a good death mat he die!
'Altho his father hae nae mair,
I'll quickly help to gar him die.'
- 'I,' bespake the sixth o them,
A wat a good death mat he die!
'He's a worthy earl's son,
I'll never help to gar him die.'
- 'I,' bespake the seventh of them,
A wat an ill death mat he die!
'I bear the brand into my hand
Shall quickly gar Clerk Saunders die.'
- They baith lay still, and sleeped sound,
Untill the sun began to sheen;
She drew the curtains a wee bit,
And dull and drowsie was his een.
- 'This night,' said she, 'The sleepiest man
That ever my twa eyes did see
Hay lyen by me, and sweat the sheets;
A wite they're a great shame to see.'
- She rowd the claiths a' to the foot,
And then she spied his deadly wounds:
'O wae be to my seven brethern,
A wat an ill death mat they die!
- 'I'm sure it was neither rogue nor loun
I had into my bed wi me;
'Twas Clerk Saunders, that good earl's son,
That pledgd his faith to marry me.'