Son Davie, Son Davie- Motherwell pre-1827 Child A
Version A: "Son Davie" Edward- Child 13
a. Motherwell's Manuscript, p. 139. From Mrs. King, Kilbarchan.
b. Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 339.
1 'What bluid's that on thy coat lap,
Son Davie, son Davie?
What bluid's that on thy coat lap?
And the truth come tell to me.'
2 'It is the bluid of my great hawk,
Mother lady, mother lady:
It is the bluid of my great hawk,
And the truth I have told to thee.'
3 'Hawk's bluid was neer sae red,
Son Davie, son Davie:
Hawk's bluid was neer sae red,
And the truth come tell to me.'
4 'It is the bluid of my greyhound,
Mother lady, mother lady:
It is the bluid of my greyhound,
And it wadna rin for me.'
5 'Hound's bluid was neer sae red,
Son Davie, son Davie:
Hound's bluid was neer sae red,
And the truth come tell to me.'
6 'It is the bluid o my brither John,
Mother lady, mother lady:
It is the bluid o my brither John,
And the truth I have told to thee.'
7 'What about did the plea begin,
Son Davie, son Davie?'
'It began about the cutting of a willow wand
That would never been a tree.'
8 'What death dost thou desire to die,
Son Davie, son Davie?
What death dost thou desire to die?
And the truth come tell to me.'
9 'I'll set my foot in a bottomless ship,
Mother lady, mother lady:
I'll set my foot in a bottomless ship,
And ye'll never see mair o me.'
10 'What wilt thou leave to thy poor wife,
Son Davie, son Davie?'
'Grief and sorrow all her life,
And she'll never see mair o me.'
11 'What wilt thou leave to thy old son,
Son Davie, son Davie?'
'I'll leave him the weary world to wander up and down,
And he'll never get mair o me.'
12 'What wilt thou leave to thy mother dear,
Son Davie, son Davie?'
'A fire o coals to burn her, wi hearty cheer,
And she'll never get mair o me.'
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From Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 339:
SON DAVIE, SON DAVIE
The following, which is given from the recitation of an old woman, will strike the reader as resembling the ballad of the " Twa Brothers," a set of which is given in preceding part of this collection. But it resembles more the ballad given in Percy's Reliques, beginning:
Why does your brand sae drap wi' blood,
Edward! Edward!
and which was communicated by Lord Hailes. Indeed, there is reason to believe, that his Lordship made a few slight verbal improvements on the copy he transmitted, and altered the hero's name to Edward, a name which, by-the-bye, never occurs in a Scottish ballad, except where allusion is made to an English King. This then, may be looked upon as the genuine traditionary version; but it is given now, principally for the purpose of affording an opportunity of preserving the melody to which it is sung among the other tunes with which this volume will be enriched.
"What bluid's that on thy coat lap?
Son Davie! Son Davie!
What bluid's that on thy coat lap?
And the truth come tell to me O."
"It is the bluid of my great hawk,
Mother lady! mother lady!
It is the bluid of my great hawk,
And the truth I hae tald to thee O."
"Hawk's bluid was ne'er sae red,
Son Davie! son Davie!
Hawk's bluid was ne'er sae red,
And the truth come tell to me O."
"It is the bluid o' my grey hound,
Mother lady! mother lady!
It is the bluid of my grey hound,
And it wudna rin for me O."
"Hound's bluid was ne'er sae red,
Son Davie! son Davie!
Hound's bluid was ne'er sae red,
And the truth come tell to me O."
"It is the bluid o' my brother John,
Mother lady ! mother lady!
It is the bluid o' my brother John,
And the truth I hae tald to thee O."
"What about did the plea begin?
Son Davie! son Davie!"
"It began about the cutting o' a willow wand,
That would never hae been a tree O."
"What death dost thou desire to die?
Son Davie! son Davie!
What death dost thou desire to die?
And the truth come tell to me O."
"I'll set my foot in a bottomless ship,
Mother lady! mother lady!
I'll set my foot in a bottomless ship,
And ye'll never see mair o' me O."
"What will't thon leave to thy poor wife?
Son Davie! son Davie!"
"Grief and sorrow all her life,
And she'll never get mair frae me O."
"What will't thou leave to thy auld son!
Son Davie! son Davie!"
"The weary warld to wander up and down,
And he'll never get mair o' me O."
"What will't thou leave to thy mother dear?
Son Davie! son Davie!"
"A fire o' coals to burn her wi' hearty cheer,
And she'll never get mair o' me O."