Young Akin- Buchan (Scotland) 1828 Child A
[Child remarks in his narrative to Hind Ekin: It is scarcely necessary to remark that this ballad, like too many others, has suffered severely by the accidents of tradition. A has been not simply damaged by passing through low mouths, but has been worked over by low hands. Something considerable has been lost from the story, and fine romantic features, preserved in Norse and German ballads, have been quite effaced.
Below is the same text taken from Buchan. Editing not complete]
Young Akin- Version A; Hind Etin Child 41
Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 6; Motherwell's Manuscript, p. 554.
1 Lady Margaret sits in her bower door,
Sewing at her silken seam;
She heard a note in Elmond's wood,
And wish'd she there had been.
2 She loot the seam fa frae her side,
And the needle to her tae,
And she is on to Elmond's wood
As fast as she coud gae.
3 She hadna pu'd a nut, a nut,
Nor broken a branch but ane,
Till by it came a young hind chiel,
Says, Lady, lat alane.
4 O why pu ye the nut, the nut,
Or why brake ye the tree?
For I am forester o this wood:
Ye shoud spier leave at me.
5 'I'll ask leave at no living man,
Nor yet will I at thee;
My father is king oer a' this realm,
This wood belongs to me.'
6 She hadna pu'd a nut, a nut,
Nor broken a branch but three,
Till by it came him Young Akin,
And gard her lat them be.
7 The highest tree in Elmond's wood,
He's pu'd it by the reet,
And he has built for her a bower,
Near by a hallow seat.
8 He's built a bower, made it secure
We carbuncle and stane;
Tho travellers were never sae nigh,
Appearance it had nane.
9 He's kept her there in Elmond's wood,
For six lang years and one,
Till six pretty sons to him she bear,
And the seventh she's brought home.
10 It fell ance upon a day,
This guid lord went from home,
And he is to the hunting gane,
Took wi him his eldest son.
11 And when they were on a guid way,
Wi slowly pace did walk,
The boy's heart being something wae,
He thus began to talk:
12 'A question I woud ask, father,
Gin ye woudna angry be:'
'Say on, say on, my bonny boy,
Ye'se nae be quarrelld by me.'
13 'I see my mither's cheeks aye weet,
I never can see them dry;
And I wonder what aileth my mither,
To mourn continually.'
14 'Your mither was a king's daughter,
Sprung frae a high degree,
And she might hae wed some worthy prince,
Had she nae been stown by me.
15 'I was her father's cup-bearer,
Just at that fatal time;
I catchd her on a misty night,
Whan summer was in prime.
16 'My luve to her was most sincere,
Her luve was great for me,
But when she hardships doth endure,
Her folly she does see.'
17 'I'll shoot the buntin o the bush,
The linnet o the tree,
And bring them to my dear mither,
See if she'll merrier be.'
18 It fell upo another day,
This guid lord he thought lang,
And he is to the hunting gane,
Took wi him his dog and gun.
19 Wi bow and arrow by his side,
He's aff, single, alane,
And left his seven children to stay
Wi their mither at hame.
20 'O I will tell to you, mither,
Gin ye wadna angry be:'
'Speak on, speak on, my little wee boy,
Ye'se nae be quarrelld by me.'
21 'As we came frae the hynd-hunting,
We heard fine music ring:'
'My blessings on you, my bonny boy,
I wish I'd been there my lane.'
22 He's taen his mither by the hand,
His six brithers also,
And they are on thro Elmond's wood,
As fast as they coud go.
23 They wistna weel where they were gaen,
Wi the stratlins o their feet;
They wistna weel where they were gaen,
Till at her father's yate.
24 'I hae nae money in my pocket,
But royal rings hae three;
I'll gie them you, my little young son,
And ye'll walk there for me.
25 'Ye'll gie the first to the proud porter,
And he will lat you in;
Ye'll gie the next to the butler-boy,
And he will show you ben;
26 'Ye'll gie the third to the minstrel
That plays before the king;
He'll play success to the bonny boy
Came thro the wood him lane.'
27 He gae the first to the proud porter,
And he opend an let him in;
He gae the next to the butler-boy,
And he has shown him ben;
28 He gae the third to the minstrel
That playd before the king;
And he playd success to the bonny boy
Came thro the wood him lane.
29 Now when he came before the king,
Fell low down on his knee;
The king he turned round about,
And the saut tear blinded his ee.
30 'Win up, win up, my bonny boy,
Gang frae my companie;
Ye look sae like my dear daughter,
My heart will birst in three.'
31 'If I look like your dear daughter,
A wonder it is none;
If I look like your dear daughter,
I am her eldest son.'
32 'Will ye tell me, ye little wee boy,
Where may my Margaret be?'
'She's just now standing at your yates,
And my six brithers her wi.'
33 'O where are all my porter-boys
That I pay meat and fee,
To open my yates baith wide and braid?
Let her come in to me.'
34 When she came in before the king,
Fell low down on her knee;
'Win up, win up, my daughter dear,
This day ye'll dine wi me.'
35 'Ae bit I canno eat, father,
Nor ae drop can I drink,
Till I see my mither and sister dear,
For lang for them I think.'
36 When she came before the queen,
Fell low down on her knee;
'Win up, win up, my daughter dear
This day ye'se dine wi me.'
37 'Ae bit I canno eat, mither,
Nor ae drop can I drink,
Until I see my dear sister,
For lang for her I think.'
38 When that these two sisters met,
She haild her courteouslie;
'Come ben, come ben, my sister dear,
This day ye'se dine wi me.'
39 'Ae bit I canno eat, sister,
Nor ae drop can I drink,
Until I see my dear husband,
For lang for him I think.'
40 'O where are all my rangers bold
That I pay meat and fee,
To search the forest far an wide,
And bring Akin to me?'
41 Out it speaks the little wee boy:
Na, na, this maunna be;
Without ye grant a free pardon,
I hope ye'll nae him see.
42 'O here I grant a free pardon,
Well seald by my own han;
Ye may make search for Young Akin,
As soon as ever you can.'
43 They searchd the country wide and braid,
The forests far and near,
And found him into Elmond's wood,
Tearing his yellow hair.
44 'Win up, win up now, Young Akin,
Win up, and boun wi me;
We're messengers come from the court,
The king wants you to see.'
45 'O lat him take frae me my head,
Or hang me on a tree;
For since I've lost my dear lady,
Life's no pleasure to me.'
46 'Your head will nae be touchd, Akin,
Nor hangd upon a tree;
Your lady's in her father's court,
And all he wants is thee.'
47 When he came in before the king,
Fell low down on his knee;
'Win up, win up now, Young Akin,
This day ye'se dine wi me.'
48 But as they were at dinner set,
The boy asked a boun:
'I wish we were in the good church,
For to get christendoun.
49 'We hae lived in guid green wood
This seven years and ane;
But a' this time, since eer I mind,
Was never a church within.'
50 'Your asking's nae sae great, my boy,
But granted it shall be;
This day to guid church ye shall gang,
And your mither shall gang you wi.'
51 When unto the guid church she came,
She at the door did stan;
She was sae sair sunk down wi shame,
She coudna come farer ben.
52 Then out it speaks the parish priest,
And a sweet smile gae he:
'Come ben, come ben, my lily flower,
Present your babes to me.'
53 Charles, Vincent, Sam and Dick,
And likewise James and John;
They calld the eldest Young Akin,
Which was his father's name.
54 Then they staid in the royal court,
And livd wi mirth and glee,
And when her father was deceasd,
Heir of the crown was she.
_____________
From: Ballads of the North of Scotland- I, Peter Buchan p. 6
YOUNG AKIN. Page 6. In some late publications, I have seen fragments of this beautiful ballad under various names.—It is now for the first time given in a complete state.
The ballad is, to all appearance, very old; and agrees with the romantic history and times of Fergus II. It will be considered by all lovers of Scottish Song, as a great acquisition to their store of traditionary poetry. The heroine, Lady Margaret, a king's daughter, was stolen by her father's cupbearer, who built for her a bower, in which she was so artfully confined, that no one could have discovered the place of her residence. In this bower, she bare to her adopted husband seven sons, the oldest of whom was the means of releasing her from her dreary abode. On his arrival at the court of his grandfather, whither he had gone to reconnoitre, the old monarch at once perceived such a family likeness in the face of this woodland boy, as made him enquire after the fate of his long lost daughter. She, with the rest of her sons, arrived at her father's palace; and like the prodigal, or long lost son, was welcomed with joy and gladness. The ballad concludes with the pardon of Young Akin,—his reception at the king's court, and the baptism of the children.
Lady Margaret sits in her bower door
Sewing at her silken seam;
She heard a note in Elmond's-wood,
And wish'd she there had been.
She loot the seam fa' frae her side,
And the needle to her tae;
And she is on to Elmond's-wood
As fast as she cou'd gae.
She hadna pu'd a nut, a nut,
Nor broken a branch but ane,
Till by it came a young hind chiel,
Says, Lady lat alane.
0 why pu' ye the nut, the nut,
0r why brake ye the tree;
For I am forester o' this wood,
Ye shou'd spier leave at me
I'll ask leave at no living man,
Nor yet will I at thee;
My father is king o'er a' this realm,
This wood belongs to me.
She hadna pu'd a nut, a nut,
Nor broken a branch but three,
Till by it came him young Akin,
And gar'd her lat them be.
The highest tree in Elmond's-wood,
He's pu'd it by the reet;
And he has built for her a bower
Near by a hallow seat.
He's built a bower, made it secure
Wi' carbuncle and stane;
Tho' travellers were never sae nigh
Appearance it had nane.
He's kept her there in Elmond's-wood, For six lang years and one;
Till six pretty sons to him she bear, And the seventh she's brought home. It fell ance upon a day,
This guid lord went from home; And he is to the hunting gane,
Took wi' him his eldest son.
And when they were on a guid way,
Wi'- slowly pace did walk; The boy's heart being something wae, He thus began to talk :—
A question I wou'd ask, father,
Gin ye wou'dna angry be. Say on, say on, my bonny boy,
Ye'se nae be quarrell'd by me.
I see my mither's cheeks aye weet,
I never can see them dry; And I wonder what aileth my mither To mourn continually.
Your mither was a king's daughter,
Sprung frae a high degree; And she might ha'e wed some worthy prince
Had she nae been stown by me;
I was her father's cup-bearer,
Just at that fatal time; I catch'd her on a misty night, Whan summer was in prime;
My luve to her was most sincere, Her luve was great for me; But when she hardships doth endure, Her folly she does see. I'll shoot the buntin' o' the bush,
The linnet o' the tree, And bring them to my dear mither, See if she'll merrier be.
It fell upo' another day,
This guid lord he thought lang, And he is to the hunting gane,
Took wi' him his dog and gun;
Wi' bow and arrow by his side,
He's aff, single, alane; And left his seven children to stay Wi' their mither at hame.
0, I will tell to you, mither,
Gin ye wadna angry be. Speak on, speak on, my little wee boy,
Ye'se nae be quarrell'd by me.
As we came frae the hynd hunting,
We heard fine music ring. My blessings on you, my bonny boy,
I wish I'd been there my lane.
He's ta'en his mither by the hand,
His six brithers also, And they are on thro' Elmond's-wood, As fast as they cou'd go;
They wistna weel where they were gaen, Wi' the stratlins o' their feet;
They wistna weel where they were gaen Till at her father's yate.
I hae nae money in my pocket,
But royal rings hae three; I'll gie them you, my little young son, And ye'll walk there for me; Ye'U gi'e the first to the proud porter,
And he will lat you in; Ye'll gi'e the next to the butler boy, And he will show you ben;
Ye'll gi'e the third to the minstrel That plays before the king; He'll play success to the bonny boy, Came thro' the wood him lane. He ga'e the first to the proud porter, And he open'd an' let him in; He ga'e the next to the butler boy, And he has shown him ben; He ga'e the third to the minstrel
That play'd before the king; And he play'd success to the bonny boy Came thro' the wood him lane.
Now when he came before the king,
Fell low down on his knee; The king he turned round about,
And the saut tear blinded his ee.
Win up, win up, my bonny boy,
Gang frae my companie; Fe look sae like my dear daughter, My heart will birst in three.
If I look like your dear daughter,
A wonder it is none; If I look like your dear daughter,— I am her eldest son.
Will ye tell me, ye little wee boy,
Where may my Margaret be 1 She's just now standing at your yates, And my six brithers her wi'.
0 where are all my porter boys
That I pay meat and fee, To open my yates baith wide and braid 1 Let her come in to me.
When she came in before the king, Fell low down on her knee: Win up, win up, my daughter dear, This day ye'U dine wi' me. Ae bit I canno' eat, father, Nor ae drop can I drink, Till I see my mither and sister dear For lang for them I think. When she came before the queen, Fell low down on her knee: Win up, win up, my daughter dear, This day ye'se dine wi' me. Ae bit I canno' eat, mither, Nor ae drop can I drink, Until I see my dear sister, For lang for her I think. When that these two sisters met, She hail'd her courteouslie: Come ben, come ben, my sister dear, This day ye'se dine wi' me. Ae bit I canno' eat, sister, Nor ae drop can I drink, Until I see my dear husband, For lang for him I think. (J wnere are all my rangers bold,
That I pay meat and fee, To search the forest far an' wide, And bring Akin to me 1
0ut it speaks the little wee boy,—
Na, na, this maunna be; Without ye grant a free pardon,
I hope ye'll nae him see.
0 here I grant a free pardon,
Well seal'd by my own han'; Ye may make search for young Akin, As soon as ever you can.
They search'd the country wide and braid,
The forests far and near; And found him into Elmond's-wood, Tearing his yellow hair.
Win up, win up, now young Akin,
Win up and boun wi' me; We're messengers come from the court, The king wants you to see.
0 lat him take frae me my head,
0r hang me on a tree; For since I've lost my dear lady,
Life's no pleasure to me.
Your head will nae be touch'd, Akin,
Nor hang'd upon a tree; Your lady's in her father's court, And all he wants is thee.
When he came in before the king, Fell low down on his knee. Win up, win up, now young Akin, This day ye'se dine wi' me. But as they were at dinner set,
The boy asked a boun; I wish we were in the good church, For to get Christendoun;
We ha'e lived in guid green wood This seven years and ane; But a' this time since e'er I mind, Was never a church within. Your asking's nae sae great, my boy,
But granted it shall be; This day to guid church ye shall gang,
And your mither shall gang you wi'.
When unto the guid church she came, She at the door did stan';
She was sae sair sunk down wi' shame, She cou'dna come farer ben
Then out it speaks the parish priest,
And a sweet smile gae he; - . Come hen, come ben, my lily flower,
Present your babes to me.
Charles, Vincent, Sam, and Dick,
And likewise James and John; They call'd the eldest Young Akin,
Which was his father's name.
Then they staid in the royal court, And liv'd wi' mirth and glee; And when her father was deceas'd, Heir of the crown was she.