Lambert Linkin- (Scotland) 1827 Motherwell Child B
[Below Child's text is the original notes and text found in Minstrelsy: Ancient and Modern, with an historical intr. and notes, by William Motherwell.]
'Lambert Linkin'- Version B; Child 93B: Lamkin
Motherwell's Manuscript, p. 15; Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 290.
1. BALANKIN was as gude a mason
as eer picked a stane;
He built up Prime Castle,
but payment gat nane.
2 The lord said to his lady,
when he was going abroad,
O beware of Balankin,
for he lyes in the wood.
3 The gates they were bolted,
baith outside and in;
At the sma peep of a window
Blankin crap in.
4 ‘Good morrow, good morrow,’
said Lambert Linkin:
‘Good morrow to yoursell, sir,’
said the false nurse to him.
5 ‘O where is your good lord?’
said Lambert Linkin:
‘He’s awa to New England,
to meet with his king.’
6 ‘O where is his auld son?’
said Lambert Linkin:
‘He’s awa to buy pearlings,
Gin our lady lye in.’
7 ‘Then she’ll never wear them,’
said Lambert Linkin:
‘And that is nae pity,’
said the false nurse to him.
8 ‘O where is your lady?’
said Lambert Linkin:
‘She’s in her bower sleeping,’
said the false nurse to him.
9 ‘How can we get at her?’
said Lambert Linkin:
‘Stab the babe to the heart,
wi a silver bokin.’
10 ‘That would be a pity,’
said Lambert Linkin:
‘No pity, no pity,’
said the false nurse to him.
11 Balankin he rocked,
and the false nurse she sang,
Till all the tores of the cradle
wi the red blood down ran.
12 ‘O still my babe, nurice,
O still him wi the knife!’
‘He’ll no be still, lady,
tho I lay doun my life.’
13 ‘O still my babe, nurice,
O still him wi the kame!’
‘He’ll be no still, lady,
till his daddy come hame.’
14 ‘O still my babe, nurice,
O still him wi the bell!’
‘He’ll no be still, lady,
till ye come doun yoursell.’
15 ‘It’s how can I come down,
this cauld winter nicht,
Without eer a coal,
or a clear candle-licht?’
16 ‘There’s two smocks in your coffer,
as white as a swan;
Put one of them about you,
it will shew you licht down.’
17 She took ane o them about her,
and came tripping doun;
But as soon as she viewed,
Balankin was in.
18 ‘Good morrow, good morrow,’
said Lambert Linkin:
‘Good morrow to yoursell, sir,
said the lady to him.
19 ‘O save my life, Balankin,
till my husband come back,
And I’ll gie you as much red gold
as you’ll hold in your hat.’
20 ‘I’ll not save your life, lady,
till your husband come back,
Tho you would give me as much red gold
as I could hold in a sack.
21 ‘Will I kill her?’ quo Balankin,
’will I kill her, or let her be?’
‘You may kill her,’ said the false nurse,
’She was neer good to me;
And ye’ll be laird of the castle,
and I’ll be ladie.’
22 Then he cut aff her head
fram her lily breast-bane,
And he hung’t up in the kitchen,
it made a’ the ha shine.
23 The lord sat in England,
a drinking the wine:
‘I wish a’ may be weel
with my lady at hame;
For the rings of my fingers
the’re now burst in twain!’
24 He saddled his horse,
and he came riding doun,
But as soon as he viewed,
Balankin was in.
25 He had na weel stepped
twa steps up the stair,
Till he saw his pretty young son
lying dead on the floor.
26 He had not weel stepped
other twa up the stair,
Till he saw his pretty lady
lying dead in despair.
27 He hanged Balankin
out over the gate,
And he burnt the fause nurice,
being under the grate.
--------------
From: Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 290.
LAMBERT LINKIN
Of this very popular ballad various editions have been published The first, in point of time, we believe, is that which appeared in Mr. Herd's Collection, Edinburgh, 1776, entitled "Lammikin;" the next, that which occurs in Mr. Jamieson's Collection, Edinburgh, 1806, under the title of "Lamkin." Two different versions of it will also be found in Mr. Finlay's Collection, Edinburgh, 1808, under the title of Lammikin, the first of which is a reprint of Mr. Herd's copy, interlaced with a number of additional verses, while the latter professes to be given wholly from a manuscript corrected from a recited copy. Of all these copies, that given by Mr. Jamieson is unquestionably the best, as well as apparently the most authentic; the second copy given by Mr. Finlay is also genuine, but an abridged form of the original ballad. On the contrary, the copy in Mr. Herd's work is out of all sight the worst, inasmuch as it contains sundry injudicious interpolations and rhetorical embellishments by a modern hand. It is remarkable, however, that this interpolated edition, (such is the taste of the times), is the one most frequently to be met with in our every-day collections of old ballads and songs.
The present copy is given from recitation; and though it could have received additions, and perhaps improvements, from another copy obtained from a similar source, and of equal authenticity, in his possession, the Editor did not like to use a liberty which is liable to much abuse. To some, the present set of the ballad may be valuable, as handing down both name and nickname of the revengeful builder of Prime Castle; for there can be little doubt that the epithet Linkin, Mr. Lambert acquired from the secrecy and address with which he insinuated himself into that notable strength. Indeed, all the names of Lammerlinkin, Lammikin, Lamkin, Lankin, Linkin, Belinkin, can easily be traced out as abbreviations of Lambert Linkin. In the present set of the ballad, Lambert Linkin and Belinkin are used indifferently, as the measure of the verse may require; in the other recited copy, to which reference has been made, it is Lammerlinkin, and Lamkin; and the nobleman for whom he "built a house," is stated to be "Lord Arran." No allusion, however, is made here to the name of the owner of Prime Castle. Antiquaries, peradventure, may find it as difficult to settle the precise locality of this fortalice, as they have found it to fix the topography of Troy.
Belinkin was as gude a mason
As e'er pickt a stane;
He built up Prime Castle,
But payment gat nane.
The lord said to his lady,
When he was going abroad,
"O beware of Belinkin,
For he lyes in the wood."
The gates they were bolted
Baith outside and in;
At the sma' peep of a window
Belinkin crap in.
"Gude morrow, gude morrow,"
Said Lambert Linkin;
"Gude morrow to yoursell, sir,"
Said the fause nurse to him.
"O whare is your gude lord?"
Said Lambert Linkin;
"He's awa to New England,
To meet with his king."
"O where is his auld son?"
Said Lambert Linkin;
"He's awa to buy pearlings
Gin our lady ly in."
"Then she'll never wear them,"
Said Lambert Linkin;
"And that is nae pity,"
Said the fause nurse to him.
"O where is your lady?"
Said Lambert Linkin;
"She's in her bouir sleepin',"
Said the fause nurse to him.
"How can we get at her?"
Said Lambert Linkin;
"Stab the babe to the heart
Wi' a silver bo'kin."
"That wud be a pity,"
Said Lambert Linkin;
"Nae pity, nae pity,"
Said the fause nurse to him.
Belinkin he rocked,
And the fause nurse she sang,
Till a' the tores [1] o' the cradle
Wi' the red blude down ran.
"O still my babe, nurice,
O still him wi' the knife;"
"He'll no be still, lady,
Tho' I lay down my life."
"O still my babe, nurice,
O still him wi' the kame;"
"He'll no be still, lady,
Till his daddy come hame."
"O still my babe, nurice,
O still him wi' the bell;"
"He'll no be still, lady,
Till ye come down yoursel'."
"Its how can I come doun
This cauld frosty nicht,
Without e'er a coal,
Or a clear candle licht?"
"There's twa smocks in your coffer,
As white as a swan,
Put ane o' them about you,
It will shew you licht doun."
She took ane o' them about her,
And came tripping doun;
But as soon as she viewed
Belinkin was in.
"Gude morrow, gude morrow,"
Said Lambert Linkin;
"Gude morrow to yoursell, sir,"
Said the lady to him.
"Oh save my life, Belinkin,
Till my husband come back,
And I'll gie ye as much red gold
As ye'll haud in your hat."
"I'll not save your life, lady,
Till your husband come back,
Tho' you wud gie me as much red gold
As I could haud in a sack.
"Will I kill her?" quo Belinkin,
"Will I kill her, or let her be?"
"You may kill her," said the fause nurse,
"She was ne'er gude to me;
And ye'll be laird o' the Castle,
And I'll be ladye."
Then he cut aff her head
Fra her lily breast bane,
And he hung't up in the kitchen-
It made a' the ha' shine.
The lord sat in England
A-drinking the wine:
"I wish a' may be weel
Wi' my lady at hame;
For the rings o' my fingers
They're now burst in twain!"
He saddled his horse,
And he came riding doun;
But as soon as he viewed
Belinkin was in.
He hadna weel stepped
Twa steps up the stair,
Till he saw his pretty young son
Lying dead on the floor.
He hadna weel stepped
Other twa up the stair,
Till he saw his pretty lady
Lying dead in despair.
He hanged Belinkin
Out over the gate;
And he burnt the fause nurice
Being under the grate.
Footnote:
1 Tores. The projections or knobs at the corners of old fashioned cradles, and the ornamental balls commonly found surmounting the backs of old chairs. Dr. Jamieson does not seem to have had a precise notion of this word. Vide IV. vol. of his Dictionary, voce Tore.