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There lived a king in southern land,
King Edward hight his name;
Unwordily he wore the crown,
Till fifty years were gane.
He had a sister’s son o’s
ain,
Was large of blood and bane;
And afterward, when he came up,
Young Edward hight his name.
One day he came before the king,
And kneel’d low on his knee—
“A boon, a boon, my good uncle,
“I crave to ask of thee!
“At our lang wars, in fair Scotland,
“I fain hae wished to be;
“If fifteen hundred waled90 wight
men
“You’ll grant to ride wi’
me.”
“Thou sail hae thae, thou sail hae
mae;
“I say it sickerlie;
“And I mysell, an auld gray man,
“Array’d your host sall see.”
King Edward rade, King Edward ran—
I wish him dool and pyne!
Till he had fifteen hundred men
Assembled on the Tyne.
And thrice as many at Berwicke91 Were
all for battle bound, Who, marching forth with
false Dunbar, A ready welcome found.
They lighted on the banks of Tweed,
And blew their coals sae het,
And fired the Merse and Teviotdale,
All in an evening late.
As they fared up o’er Lammermore,
They burned baith up and down,
Until they came to a darksome house;
Some call it Leader-Town.
“Wha hauds this house?” young
Edward cry’d,
“Or wha gies’t ower to me?”
A gray-hair’d knight set up his
head,
And crackit right crousely:
“Of Scotland’s king I haud
my house;
“He pays me meat and fee;
“And I will keep my gude auld house,
“While my house will keep me.”
They laid their sowies to the wall,
Wi’ mony a heavy peal;
But he threw ower to them agen
Baith pitch and tar barrel.
With springalds, stanes, and gads of airn,
Amang them fast he threw;
Till mony of the Englishmen
About the wall he slew.
Full fifteen days that braid host lay,
Sieging Auld Maitland keen,
Syne they hae left him, hail and fair,
Within his strength of stane.
Then fifteen barks, all gaily good,
Met them upon a day,
Which they did lade with as much spoil
As they could bear away.
“England’s our ain by heritage;
“And what can us withstand,
“Now we hae conquer’d fair
Scotland,
“With buckler, bow, and brand?”
Then they are on to the land o’
France,
Where auld King Edward lay,
Burning baith castle, tower, and town,
That he met in his way,
Untill he came unto that town,
Which some call Billop-Grace;
There were Auld Maitland’s sons,
a’ three,
Learning at school, alas!
The eldest to the youngest said,
“O see ye what I see?
“Gin a’ be trew yon standard
says92,
“We’re fatherlesse a’
three.
“For Scotland’s conquer’d,
up and down;
“Landmen we’ll never be:
“Now, will ye go, my brethren two,
“And try some jeopardy?”
Then they hae saddled twa black horse,
Twa black horse, and a grey;
And they are on to King Edward’s
host,
Before the dawn of day.
When they arriv’d before the host,
They hover’d on the lay—
“Wilt thou lend me our king’s
standard,
“To bear a little way?”
“Where was thou bred? where was
thou born?
“Where, or in what countrie?”
“In north of England I was born:
(It needed him to lie.)
“A knight me gat, a lady bore,
“I’m a squire of high renowne;
I well may bear’t to any king,
“That ever yet wore crowne.”
“He ne’er came of an Englishman,
“Had sic an e’e or bree;
“But thou art the likest Auld Maitland,
“That ever I did see.
“But sick a gloom, on ae brow-head,
“Grant I ne’er see agane!
“For mony of our men he slew,
“And mony put to pain.”
When Maitland heard his father’s
name,
An angry man was he!
Then, lifting up a gilt dagger,
Hung low down by his knee,
He stabb’d the knight, the standard
bore,
He stabb’d him cruellie;
Then caught the standard by the neuk,
And fast away rode he.
“Now, is’t na time, brothers,”
he cried,
“Now, is’t na time to flee?”
“Aye, by my sooth!” they baith
replied,
“We’ll bear you company.”
The youngest turn’d him in a path,
And drew a burnished brand,
And fifteen of the foremost slew,
Till back the lave did stand.
He spurr’d the gray into the path,
Till baith his sides they bled—
“Gray! thou maun carry me away,
“Or my life lies in wad!”
The captain lookit ower the wa’,
About the break o’ day;
There he beheld the three Scots lads,
Pursued along the way.
“Pull up portcullize! down draw-brigg!
“My nephews are at hand;
And they sall lodge wi’ me to-night,
“In spite of all England.”
Whene’er they came within the yate,
They thrust their horse them frae,
And took three lang spears in their hands,
Saying, “Here sall come nae mae!”.
And they shot out, and they shot in,
Till it was fairly day;
When mony of the Englishmen
About the draw-brigg lay.
Then they hae yoked carts and wains,
To ca’ their dead away,
And shot auld dykes aboon the lave,
In gutters where they lay.
The king, at his pavilion door,
Was heard aloud to say,
“Last night, three o’ the
lads o’ France
“My standard stole away.
“Wi’ a fause tale, disguised,
they came,
“And wi’ a fauser trayne;
“And to regain my gaye standard,
“These men were a’ down slayne.”
“It ill befits,” the youngest
said,
“A crowned king to lie;
“But, or that I taste meat and drink,
“Reproved sall he be.”
He went before King Edward strait,
And kneel’d low on his knee;
“I wad hae leave, my lord,”
he said,
“To speak a word wi’ thee.”
The king he turned him round about,
And wistna what to say—
Quo’ he, “Man, thou’s
hae leave to speak,
Tho’ thou should speak a’
day.”
“Ye said, that three young lads
o’ France
“Your standard stole away,
“Wi’ a fause tale, and fauser
trayne,
“And mony men did slay:
“But we are nane the lads o’
France,
“Nor e’er pretend to be;
“We are three lads o’ fair
Scotland,
“Auld Maitland’s sons are
we;
“Nor is there men, in a’ your
host,
“Daur fight us, three to three.”
“Now, by my sooth,” young
Edward said,
“Weel fitted ye sall be!
“Piercy sall wi’ the eldest
fight,
“And Ethert Lunn wi’ thee;
“William of Lancaster the third,
“And bring your fourth to me!”
“Remember, Piercy, aft the Scot93
“Has cow’rd beneath thy hand:
“For every drap of Maitland blood, “I’ll
gie a rigg of land.”
He clanked Piercy ower the head,
A deep wound and a sair,
Till the best blood o’ his bodie
Cam rinning down his hair.
“Now, I’ve slayne ane; slay
ye the twa;
“And that’s gude companye;
“And if the twa suld slay you baith,
“Ye’se get na help frae me.”
But Ethert Lunn, a baited bear,
Had many battles seen;
He set the youngest wonder sair,
Till the eldest he grew keen—
“I am nae king, nor nae sic thing:
“My word it shanna stand!
“For Ethert sail a buffet bide,
“Come he beneath my brand.”
He clanked Ethert ower the head,
A deep wound and a sair,
Till the best blood of his bodie
Cam rinning ower his hair.
“Now I’ve slayne twa; slay
ye the ane;
“Is na that gude companye?
“And tho’ the ane suld slay
ye baith,
“Ye’se get na help o’
me.”
The twa-some they hae slayne the ane;
They maul’d him cruellie;
Then hung them over the draw-brigg,
That all the host might see.
They rade their horse, they ran their
horse,
Then hovered on the lee;
“We be three lads o’ fair
Scotland,
“That fain wad fighting see.”
This boasting, when young Edward heard.
An angry man was he!
“I’ll take yon lad, I’ll
bind yon lad,
“And bring him bound to thee!”
“Now, God forbid,” King Edward
said,
“That ever thou suld try!
“Three worthy leaders we hae lost,
“And thou the fourth wad lie.
“If thou should’st hang on
yon draw-brigg,
“Blythe wad I never be!”
But, wi’ the poll-axe in his hand,
Upon the brigg sprang he.
The first stroke that young Edward gae,
He struck wi’ might and mayn;
He clove the Maitlan’s helmet stout,
And bit right nigh the brayn.
When Maitland saw his ain blood fa’,
An angry man was he!
He let his weapon frae him fa’,
And at his throat did flee.
And thrice about he did him swing,
Till on the grund he light,
Where he has halden young Edward,
Tho’ he was great in might.
“Now, let him up,” King Edward
cried,
“And let him come to me!
“And, for the deed that thou hast
done,
“Thou shalt hae erldomes three!”
“Its ne’er be said in France,
nor e’er
In Scotland, when I’m hame,
That Edward once lay under me,
And e’er gat up again!”
He pierced him through and through the
heart;
He maul’d him cruellie;
Then hung him ower the draw-brigg,
Beside the other three.
“Now, take frae me that feather-bed!
“Mak me a bed o’ strae!
“I wish I had na lived this day,
“To mak my heart sae wae.
“If I were ance at London tower,
“Where I was wont to be,
“I never mair suld gang frae hame,
“Till borne on a bier-tree.”
[Footnote 90: Waled—Chosen.]
[Footnote 91: North-Berwick,
according to some reciters.]
[Footnote 92: Edward had quartered
the arms of Scotland with his own.]
[Footnote 93: The two first lines
are modern, to supply an imperfect stanza.]
