Lord Ingram and Chiel Wyet

No: 66; variant: 66C

  1. LADY MAISDRY was a lady fair, She maid her mither’s bed; Auld Ingram was an aged knight, And hee sought her to wed.
  2. '’Tis I forbid ye, Auld Ingram, For to seek me to spouse; For Lord Wayets, your sister’s son, Has been into my bowrs.
  3. '’Tis I forbid ye, Auld Ingram, For to seek me to wed; For Lord Wayets, your sister’s son, Has been into my bed.’
  4. '’Tis he has bought to this lady The robes of the brown; ‘And ever alas,’ says this lady, ‘The robs will pit mee down!’
  5. And he has bought to this lady The robs of the red; ‘And ever alas,’ says this lady, ‘The robs will be my dead!’
  6. And he has bought to this lady The chrystal and the lammer, Sae has hee bought to her mither The curches of the cammer.
  7. Every ane o her se’n brethren They had a hawk in hand, And every lady i the place They got a goud garland.
  8. Every cuk in that kitchen They gat a noble claith; A’ was blyth at Auld Ingram’s cuming, But Lady Maisdrey was wraith.
  9. ‘Whare will I get a bonny boy, Wad fain wun hos and shoon, That wud rin on to my Wayets, And quickly cume again?’
  10. ‘Here am I, a bonny boy, Wad fain wun hoes and shoon, Wha wull rin on to your Wayets, And quickly cume again.’
  11. ‘Ye’l bid him, and ye’l pray him baith, Gif ony prayer can dee, To Mary Kirk to cume the morn, My weary wadding to see.’
  12. Lord Wayets lay our his castle wa, Beheld baith dale and down, And he beheld a bonny boy Cume rinnen to the town.
  13. ‘What news, what news, ye bonny boy? What news ye hae to mee? . . . . . . . . . . .
  14. ‘O is my ladie’s fauldis brunt? Or is her towrs wun? Or is my Maisdrey lighter yet A dear dochter or sun?’
  15. ‘Your ladie’s faulds they are not brunt, Nor yet are her towrs wun, Neither is Maisdrey lighter yet A dear dochter or sun.
  16. ‘But she bids ye and she prays ye baith, Gif ony prayer can dee, To Mary Kirk to cume the morn, Her weary wadding to see.’
  17. He dung the boord up wi his fit, Sae did he wi his tae; The silver cup that sat upon’t I the fire he gard it flee: ‘O what na a lord in a’ Scotland Dare marry my Maisdrey?’
  18. ‘O ‘tis but a feeble thought To tell the tane and not the tither; O ‘tis but a feeble thought To tell ‘tis your mither’s brither.’
  19. '’Tis I wull send to that wadding, And I wul follow syne, The fitches o the fallow deer An the gammons o the swine, An the nine hides o the noble cow; ‘Twas slain in season time.
  20. '’Tis I wul send to that wadding Ten ton of the red wyne; Much more I’ll send to that wadding, An I wul follow syne.’
  21. When he came in unto the ha, Lady Maisdrey she did ween, And twenty times he kist her mou Before Auld Ingram’s een.
  22. Nor to the kirk she wud ne gae, Nor til’t she wudn ride, Till four and twunty men she gat her before, An twunty on ilka side, An four and twunty milk-white dows To flee aboon her head.
  23. A loud laughter gae Lord Wayets Mang the mids o his men: ‘Marry the lady wham they weel, A maiden she is nane.’
  24. ‘O laugh ye at my men, Wayets? Or di ye laugh at me? Or laugh ye at the beerly bride, That’s gane to marry me?’
  25. ‘I laugh na at your men, uncle, Nor yet dive I at thee, Bit I laugh at my lands sae braid, Sae weel’s I do them see.’
  26. Whan ene was cume, and ene-bells rung, An a’ man gane to bed, The bride bit and the silly bridegroom In chambers they were laid.
  27. Was na it a fell thing for to see, Twa heads lye on a coad, Lady Maisdrey like the moten goud, Auld Ingram like a toad?
  28. He turnd his face unto the stock, And sound he fell asleep; She turnd her fair face unto the wa, An sa’t tears she did weep.
  29. It fell about the mark midnight, Auld Ingram began to turn him; He pat his hands on’s lady’s sides, An waly, sair was she murnin.
  30. ‘What aileth thee, my lady dear? Ever alas and wae’s me, There is a baube betwixt thy sides! O sae sair’s it grieves me.’
  31. ‘Didn I tell ye that, Auld Ingram, Or ye saught me to wed, That Lord Wayets, your sister’s son, Had been into my bed?’
  32. ‘O father that bairn on me, Maisdrey, O father it on me, An ye sall hae a rigland shire Your mornin’s gift to bee.’
  33. ‘O sarbit,’ says the Lady Maisdrey, ‘That ever the like me befa, To father my bairn on Auld Ingram, Lord Wayets in my father’s ha!
  34. ‘O sarbit,’ says the Lady Maisdrey, ‘That ever the like me betide, To father my bairn on Auld Ingram, An Lord Wayets beside!’