Volume Ii Part 14 (1/2)

”And lay Lady Marg'ret close at my back, ”And the sounder I will sleep.”

Lord William was dead lang ere midnight, Lady Marg'ret lang ere day-- And all true lovers that go thegither, May they have mair luck than they!

Lord William was buried in St Marie's kirk, Lady Margaret in Mary's quire; Out o' the lady's grave grew a bonny red rose, And out o' the knight's a brier.

And they twa met, and they twa plat, And fain they wad be near; And a' the warld might ken right weel, They were twa lovers dear.

But bye and rade the Black Douglas, And wow but he was rough!

For he pull'd up the bonny brier, And flang'd in St Mary's loch.

YOUNG BENJIE. NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED.

In this ballad the reader will find traces of a singular superst.i.tion, not yet altogether discredited in the wilder parts of Scotland. The lykewake, or watching a dead body, in itself a melancholy office, is rendered, in the idea of the a.s.sistants, more dismally awful, by the mysterious horrors of superst.i.tion. In the interval betwixt death and interment, the disembodied spirit is supposed to hover around its mortal habitation, and, if invoked by certain rites, retains the power of communicating, through its organs, the cause of its dissolution. Such enquiries, however are always dangerous, and never to be resorted to unless the deceased is suspected to have suffered _foul play_, as it is called. It is the more unsafe to tamper with this charm, in an unauthorized manner; because the inhabitants of the infernal regions are, at such periods, peculiarly active. One of the most potent ceremonies in the charm, for causing the dead body to speak, is, setting the door ajar, or half open. On this account, the peasants of Scotland sedulously avoid leaving the door ajar, while a corpse lies in the house. The door must either be left wide open, or quite shut; but the first is always preferred, on account of the exercise of hospitality usual on such occasions. The attendants must be likewise careful never to leave the corpse for a moment alone, or, if it is left alone, to avoid, with a degree of superst.i.tious horror, the first sight of it.

The following story, which is frequently related by the peasants of Scotland, will ill.u.s.trate the imaginary danger of leaving the door ajar.

In former times, a man and his wife lived in a solitary cottage, on one of the extensive border fells. One day, the husband died suddenly; and his wife, who was equally afraid of staying alone by the corpse, or leaving the dead body by itself, repeatedly went to the door, and looked anxiously over the lonely moor, for the sight of some person approaching. In her confusion and alarm, she accidentally left the door ajar, when the corpse suddenly started up, and sat in the bed, frowning and grinning at her frightfully. She sat alone, crying bitterly, unable to avoid the fascination of the dead man's eye, and too much terrified to break the sullen silence, till a catholic priest, pa.s.sing over the wild, entered the cottage. He first set the door quite open, then put his little finger in his mouth, and said the paternoster backwards; when the horrid look of the corpse relaxed, it fell back on the bed, and behaved itself as a dead man ought to do.

The ballad is given from tradition.

YOUNG BENJIE.

Of a' the maids o' fair Scotland, The fairest was Marjorie; And young Benjie was her ae true love, And a dear true love was he.

And wow! but they were lovers dear, And loved fu' constantlie; But ay the mair when they fell out, The sairer was their plea.[A]

And they hae quarrelled on a day, Till Marjorie's heart grew wae; And she said she'd chuse another luve, And let young Benjie gae.

And he was stout,[B] and proud-hearted, And thought o't bitterlie; And he's ga'en by the wan moon-light, To meet his Marjorie.

”O open, open, my true love, ”O open, and let me in!”

”I dare na open, young Benjie, ”My three brothers are within.”

”Ye lied, ye lied, ye bonny burd, ”Sae loud's I hear ye lie; ”As I came by the Lowden banks, ”They bade gude e'en to me.

”But fare ye weel, my ae fause love, ”That I hae loved sae lang!

”It sets[C] ye chuse another love, ”And let young Benjie gang.”

Then Marjorie turned her round about, The tear blinding her ee,-- ”I darena, darena, let thee in, ”But I'll come down to thee.”

Then saft she smiled, and said to him, ”O what ill hae I done?”

He took her in his armis twa, And threw her o'er the linn.

The stream was strang, the maid was stout, And laith laith to be dang,[D]

But, ere she wan the Lowden banks, Her fair colour was wan.