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I
HER mother died when she was young, | |
| Which gave her cause to make great moan; | |
| Her father married the warst woman | |
| That ever lived in Christendom. | |
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II
She servèd her wi’ foot and hand | 5 |
| In everything that she could dee, | |
| Till once, in an unlucky time | |
| She threw her owre a craig o’ the sea. | |
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III
Says, ‘Lie you there, dove Isabel, | |
| And all my sorrows lie wi’ thee! | 10 |
| Till Kemp Owyne come to the craig, | |
| And borrow you wi’ kisses three.’ | |
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IV
Her breath grew strang, her hair grew lang | |
| And twisted thrice about the tree, | |
| And all the people, far and near, | 15 |
| Thought that a savage beast was she. | |
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V
And aye she cried for Kemp Owyne | |
| Gin that he would but com’ to her hand:— | |
| Now word has gane to Kemp Owyne | |
| That siccan a beast was in his land. | 20 |
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VI
‘Now by my sooth,’ says Kemp Owyne, | |
| ‘This fiery beast I’ll gang to see’; | |
| ‘And by my sooth,’ says Segramour, | |
| ‘My ae brother, I’ll gang you wi’.’ | |
| |
VII
O they have biggit a bonny boat, | 25 |
| And they have set her to the sea; | |
| But a mile before they reach’d the shore | |
| I wot she gar’d the red fire flee. | |
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VIII
‘O brother, keep my boat afloat, | |
| An’ lat her na the land so near! | 30 |
| For the wicked beast she’ll sure go mad, | |
| An’ set fire to the land an’ mair.’ | |
| |
IX
Syne he has bent an arblast bow | |
| And aim’d an arrow at her head, | |
| And swore, if she didna quit the land, | 35 |
| Wi’ that same shaft to shoot her dead. | |
| |
X
‘O out o’ my stythe I winna rise— | |
| And it is na for the fear o’ thee— | |
| Till Kemp Owyne, the kingis son, | |
| Come to the craig an’ thrice kiss me.’ | 40 |
| |
XI
Her breath was strang, her hair was lang | |
| And twisted thrice about the tree, | |
| And with a swing she came about: | |
| ‘Come to the craig, an’ kiss with me! | |
| |
XII
‘Here is a royal belt,’ she cried, | 45 |
| ‘That I have found in the green sea; | |
| And while your body it is on, | |
| Drawn shall your blood never be; | |
| But if you touch me, tail or fin, | |
| I swear my belt your death shall be.’ | 50 |
| |
XIII
He’s louted him o’er the Eastmuir craig, | |
| As out she swang and about the tree; | |
| He steppèd in, gave her a kiss, | |
| The royal belt he brought him wi’. | |
| |
XIV
Her breath was strang, her hair was lang | 55 |
| And twisted twice about the tree, | |
| As awa’ she gid, and again she swang— | |
| ‘Come to the craig, an’ kiss with me! | |
| |
XV
‘Here is a royal ring,’ she said, | |
| ‘That I have found in the green sea; | 60 |
| And while your finger it is on, | |
| Drawn shall your blood never be; | |
| But if you touch me, tail or fin, | |
| I swear my ring your death shall be.’ | |
| |
XVI
He’s louted him o’er the Eastmuir craig, | 65 |
| As out she swang and about the tree; | |
| He stepped in, gave her a kiss, | |
| The royal ring he brought him wi’. | |
| |
XVII
Her breath was strang, her hair was lang | |
| And twisted ance about the tree, | 70 |
| As awa’ she gid and again she swang— | |
| ‘Come to the craig, an’ kiss with me! | |
| |
XVIII
‘Here is a royal brand,’ she said, | |
| ‘That I have found in the green sea; | |
| And while your body it is on, | 75 |
| Drawn shall your blood never be; | |
| But if you touch me, tail or fin, | |
| I swear my brand your death shall be.’ | |
| |
XIX
He’s louted him o’er the Eastmuir craig, | |
| As out she swang and about the tree; | 80 |
| He steppèd in, gave her a kiss | |
| That royal brand he brought him wi’. | |
| |
XX
Her breath was sweet, her hair grew short, | |
| And twisted nane about the tree, | |
| As awa’ she gid and again she came | 85 |
| The fairest lady that ever could be. | |
| |
XXI
‘O was it a wer-wolf into the wood, | |
| Or was it a mermaid into the sea, | |
| Or was it a man or a vile woman, | |
| My true love, that mis-shapit thee?’— | 90 |
| |
XXII
‘It was na wer-wolf into the wood, | |
| Nor was it mermaid into the sea, | |
| But and it was my vile stepmother, | |
| And wae and weary mote she be! | |
| |
XXIII
‘O a heavier weird shall light her on, | 95 |
| Her hair sall grow rough an’ her teeth grow lang, | |
| And [aye] on her four feet sall she gang, | |
| And aye in Wormeswood sall she won!’ | |
| | | GLOSS: dee] do. craig] rock. Kemp] champion, knight. borrow] ransom. siccan] such. biggit] built. gar’d] made. stythe] place, station. louted] bowed. gid] went. into] in. won] dwell. |
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