Fause Sir John & May Colvin- (Scot) 1828 Buchan; Child Db
[No informant named. From Buchan's 1828 book, Ancient Ballads and Songs of the North of Scotland, Volume 2." His notes follow,
R. Matteson 2018]
FAUSE SIR JOHN AND MAY COLVIN. Page 43. A fragment of this most beautiful ballad, differing from this one, was printed by Wotherspoon, Edinburgh, in the year 1776. Another fragment, partly from recitation, and partly made up from Wotherspoon's, is to be found in the Minstrelsy Ancient and Modern. The copy which is here presented, is the only complete one to be found ; as it relates, with the minutest accuracy, every trivial circumstance which took place at the beginning and end of the tragedy. In the fragments just mentioned, the seven unfortunate young ladies, who had met with watery graves by the hand of this barbarous robber, are said to be king's daughters, which is not at all likely, even fertile as Scotland has been in producing kings, that there had been eight of them at one time; nor that the ladies had been all of one father, courted by a petty baron.
The Binyan's Bay, to which he took the young lady to perpetrate the horrid deed, was the mouth of the river Ugie, as at one time, about five hundred years ago, the site of Peterhead, was called Binyan. So my old and intelligent informant assured me ; and at the same time illustrated it with the following anecdote :—About three hundred years ago, a ship went into Norway in want of a mast, when the master went to a very old man who sat rocking a cradle, to purchase a tree for that purpose, and was told by him that, in his early years, when he resided in Scotland, he could have walked from old Faithley to Binyan, i.e., Fraserburgh to Peterhead, on the tops of full grown trees. Whatever truth is in this relation I know not; but thus far it is clear, that, to this day, there are roots of very large trees often dug up between these two places.
Fause Sir John and May Colvin
Heard ye ever of a bludy knight,
Lived in the west countrie?
For he's betrayed eight virgins fair,
And drowned them in the sea.
All ladies of a gude account,
As ever yet were known;
This traitor was a baron knight,
They call'd him fause Sir John.
Then he is gane to May Colvin,
She was her father's heir;
The greatest beauty o' that age,
I solemnly declare.
Thou art the darling of my heart,
I say, fair May Colvin,
So far excells thy beauties great,
That ever I hae seen.
But I'm a knight of wealth and might,
Hae towers, towns twenty-three;
And ye'se be lady o' them a',
If ye will gang wi' me.
Excuse me then, 0 gude Sir John,
To wed I am too young;
Without ye hae my parents' leave,
With you I darena come.
Your parents' leave ye soon shall have,
To this they will agree;
For I hae made a solemn vow,
This night ye'se gang wi' me.
Frae below his arm, he's pull'd a charm,
And stuck it in her sleeve;
And he has made her gang wi' him,
Without her parents' leave.
Much gowd and siller she has brought,
Wi' her five hunder pound;
The best an' steed her father had,
She's ta'en to ride upon.
Sae privately they rade away,
They made nae stop nor stay;
Till they came to that fatal end,
That ye ca' Binyan's bay.
It being in a lonely place,
Nae habitation nigh;
The fatal rocks were tall and steep,
And nane cou'd hear her cry.
Light down, light down, fair May Colvin,
Light down, and speak wi' me;
For here I've drown'd eight virgins brave,
And you the ninth maun be.
Are these your bowers and lofty towers,
Sae beautiful and gay?
Or is it for my gold, she says,
You take my life away?
Cast aff, cast aff your jewels fine,
Sae costly, rich, and rare;
For they're too costly, and too fine,
To sink in the sea ware.
Then aff she's ta'en her jewels fine,
And thus she made her moan;
Hae mercy on a virgin young,
I pray you, gude Sir John!
Cast aff, cast aff, fair May Colvin,
Your gown and petticoat;
For they're too costly, and too fine,
To rot by the sea rock.
Take all I have my life to save,
O gude Sir John, I pray;
Let it ne'er be said you killed a maid,
Before her wedding day.
Strip aff, strip aff, your Holland smock,
That's border'd wi' the lawn;
For it's too costly, and too fine,
To toss on the sea sand.
0 turn ye round, 0 gude Sir John,
Your back about to me;
It is not comely for a man
A naked woman to see.
But, as Sir John he turn'd him round,
She threw him in the sea;
Says, Lye ye there, ye fause Sir John,
For ye thought to lay me.
0 lye ye there, ye traitor fause,
For ye thought to lay me;
Altho' ye stript me to the skin,
Ye'se get your claise wi' thee.
Then on she puts her jewels fine,
Sae costly, rich, and brave;
And then wi' speed she mounts her steed,
Sae well's she did behave.
This maiden fair being void of fear,
The steed was swift and free;
And she has reach'd her father's house
Before the clock struck three.
First she call'd the stable groom,
Who was her waiting man;
As soon's he heard his lady's word,
He came wi' cap in han'.
Where hast thou been, fair May Colvin?
Who owes this dapple gray?
It is a found ane, she replied,
That I got on the way.
Then out it speaks the wylie parrot,
Unto fair May Colvin;
What hast thou made o' fause Sir John,
That ye went wi' yestreen?
0 had your tongue, my pretty parrot,
And talk nae mair o' me;
For when ye got ae meal a-fore,
My parrot, ye'se hae three.
Then out it speaks her father dear,
In the chamber where he lay;
What aileth thee, my pretty parrot,
To chat sae lang ere day 1
The cat she scratch'd at my cage door,
The thief I cou'dna see;
And I am calling on May Colvin,
To take the cat frae me.
But first she tauld her father dear
The deed that she had done;
Likewise unto her mother dear,
Concerning fause Sir John.
If that be true, fair May Colvin,
That ye hae tauld to me;
The morn, ere I eat or drink,
This fause Sir John I'll see.
Sae off they went, wi' ae consent,
By the dawning o' the day;
Until they came to Charlestown sands,
And there his corpse it lay.
His body tall, with that great fall,
With waves toss'd to and fro,
The diamond ring that he had on,
Was broken in pieces two.
They hae taken up his corpse
To yonder pleasant green;
And there they buried fause Sir John,
For fear he shou'd be seen.
Ye ladies a', wherever you be,
That read this mournful song;
I pray you mind on May Colvin,
And think on fause Sir John.
Aff they've taen his jewels fine,
To keep in memory;
And sae I end my mournful sang,
And fatal tragedy.