Part 16 (1/2)
O up and spak' an eldern knight, Sat at the king's right knee, ”Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor, That ever sailed the sea.”
Our king has written a braid letter, And seated it with his hand, And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens, Was walking on the strand.
”To Noroway, to Noroway, To Noroway o'er the faem; The king's daughter of Noroway 'Tis thou maun bring her hame.”
The first word that Sir Patrick read, Sae loud loud laughed he; The neist word that Sir Patrick read, The tear blinded his ee.
”O wha is this has done this deed, And tauld the king o' me, To send us out at this time of the year, To sail upon the sea?
”Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail, be it sleet, Our s.h.i.+p must sail the faem; The king's daughter of Noroway, 'Tis we must fetch her hame.”
They hoysed their sails an Moneday morn, Wi' a' the speed they may; They hae landed in Noroway, Upon a Wednesday.
They hadna been a week, a week, In Noroway, but twae, When that the lords o' Noroway Began aloud to say:
”Ye Scottishmen spend a' our king's goud, And a' our queen's fee.”
”Ye lie, ye lie, ye liars loud!
Fu' loud I hear ye lie;
”For I brought as much white monie, As gane my men and me, And I brought a half-fou of gude red goud, Out o'er the sea wi' me.
”Make ready, make ready, my merry men a', Our gude s.h.i.+p sails the morn.”
”Now, ever alake, my master dear, I fear a deadly storm!
”I saw the new moon, late yestreen, Wi' the old moon in her arm; And, if we gang to sea, master, I fear we'll come to harm.”