Young Beachen- Skene MS c. 1802 Child D
From the MS. described by Scott as the 'collection of an old lady's complete set of ballads.' In two portions, the first in 53 pages, on paper of 1805-6-7; the second in 10 pages, on paper of 1818. Contains thirty-two popular ballads and gives the titles of others known to the compiler. Obtained by Skene of Rubislaw in the north of Scotland (but obviously not so early as 1802-3 as endorsed by Scott on the cover of the Skene MS.), turned over to Scott by Skene, and in 1823 by Scott to C. K. Sharpe. In the possession of Mr Macmath.
Skene MS., nine separate quires, amounting m all to 125 pages, and containing thirty-six pieces. Almost all of these are found in the Old Lady's Collection, from which they appear to have been transcribed, but with ms readings and changes.
Young Beachen- Version D; Child 53- Young Beichan
Skene Manuscripts, p. 70. North of Scotland, 1802-3.
1 Young Beachen was born in fair London,
And foreign lands he langed to see;
He was taen by the savage Moor,
An the used him most cruellie.
2 Through his showlder they pat a bore,
And through the bore the pat a tree;
They made him trail their ousen carts,
And they used him most cruellie.
3 The savage Moor had ae daughter,
I wat her name was Susan Pay;
And she is to the prison house,
To hear the prisoner's moan.
4 He made na his moan to a stocke,
He made na it to a stone,
Bit it was to the Queen of Heaven
That he made his moan.
5 'Gin a lady wad borrow me,
I at her foot wad run;
An a widdow wad borrow me,
I wad become her son.
6 'But an a maid wad borrow me,
I wad wed her wi a ring;
I wad make her lady of haas and bowers,
An of the high towers of Line.'
7 'Sing oer yer sang, Young Beachen,' she says,
'Sing oer yer sang to me;'
'I never sang that sang, lady,
But I wad sing to thee.
8 'Gin a lady wad borrow me,
I at her foot wad run;
An a widdow wad borrow me,
I wad become her son.
9 'But an a maid wad borrow me,
I wad wed her wi a ring;
I wad make her lady of haas and bowers,
An of the high towers of Line.'
10 Saftly, [saftly] gaed she but,
An saftlly gaed she ben,
It was na for want of hose nor shoon,
Nor time to pet them on.
11 . . . . .
. . . . .
An she has staen the keys of the prison,
An latten Young Beachen gang.
12 She gae him a leaf of her white bread,
An a bottle of her wine,
She bad him mind on the lady's love
That freed him out of pine.
13 She gae him a steed was guid in need,
A saddle of the bane,
Five hundred pown in his pocket,
Bad him gae speeding hame.
14 An a leash of guid grayhounds,
. . . . .
. . . . .
. . . . .
15 Whan seven lang years were come and gane,
Shusie Pay thought lang,
An she is on to fair London,
As fast as she could gang.
16 Whan she cam to Young Beachen's gate,
. . . . .
'Is Young Beachan at hame,
Or is he in this countrie?'
17 'He is at hame, is hear,' they said,
. . . . .
An sighan says her Susie Pay,
Has he quite forgotten me?
18 On every finger she had a ring,
On the middle finger three;
She gae the porter ane of them:
'Get a word o your lord to me.'
19 He gaed up the stair,
Fell low down on his knee:
'Win up, my proud porter,
What is your will wi me?'
20 'I hae been porter at yer gate
This thirty year and three;
The fairst lady is at yer gate
Mine eyes did ever see.'
21 Out spak the bride's mither,
An a haghty woman was she:
'If ye had na eccepted the bonny bride,
Ye might well ha eccepted me.'
22 'No disparagement to you, madam,
Nor none unto her Grace;
The sole of yonr lady's foot
Is fairer than her face.'
23 He's gaen the table wi his foot,
And couped it wi his knee:
'I wad my head and a' my land
'Tis Susie Pay, come oer the sea.'
24 The stair was thirty steps,
I wat he made them three;
He took her in his arms twa:
'Susie Pay, ye'r welcome to me.'
25 'Gie me a shive of your white bread,
An a bottle of your wine;
Dinna ye mind on the lady's love
That freed ye out of pine?'
26 He took her . . . .
Down to yon garden green,
An changed her name fra Susie Pay,
An called her bonny Lady Jean.
27 'Yer daughter came here on high horse-back,
She sal gae hame in coaches three,
An I sall double her tocher our,
She's nane the war o me.'
28 'It's na the fashion o our countrie,
Nor yet o yer nane,
To wed a maid in the morning,
An send her hame at een.'
29 'It's na the fashion o my countrie,
Nor is it of my nane,
But I man mind on the lady's love
That freed me out of pine.
_________________
D is now given as it stands in "The Old Lady's Collection," from which it was copied by Skene: 'Young Beachen,' No. 14.
1 Young Beachen as born in fair London,
An foiren lands he langed to see,
An he was tean by the savage Mour,
An they used him mast cruely.
2 Throu his shoulder they patt a bore,
An throu the bore they patt a tree,
An they made him tralle ther ousen-carts,
An they used him most cruelly.
3 The savige More had ae doughter,
I wat her name was Susan Pay,
An she is to the prison-house
To hear the prisoner's mone.
4 He made na his mone to a stok,
He made it no to a ston,
But it was to the Quin of Heaven,
That he made his mone.
5 'Gine a lady wad borrou me,
Att her foot I wad rune,
An a widdou wad borrou me,
I wad becom her sone.
6 Bat an a maid wad borrou me,
I wad wed her we a ring,
I wad make her lady of haas an hours,
An of the high tours of Line.'
7 'Sing our yer sang, Young Bichen,' she says,
'Sing our yer sang to me;'
'I never sang that sang, lady,
Bat fat I wad sing to ye.
8 'An a lady wad borrou me,
Att her foot I wad rune,
An a widdou wad borrou me,
I wad becom her son.
9 'Bat an a maid wad borrou me,
I wad wed her we a ring,
I wad mak her lady of haas an hours,
An of the high tours of Line.'
10 Saftly gaid she but,
An saftly gaid she ben;
It was na for want of hose nor shone,
Nor time to pit them on.
11 . . .
. . .
An she has stoun the kees of the prison,
An latten Young Beachen gang.
12 She gae him a lofe of her whit bread,
An a bottel of her wine,
She bad him mind on the leady's love
That fread him out of pine.
13 She gae him a stead was gued in time of nead,
A sadle of the bone,
Five hundred poun in his poket,
Bad him gae speading home.
14 An a lish of gued gray honds,
. . .
. . .
. . .
15 Fan seven lang year wer come an gane,
Shusie Pay thought lang,
An she is on to fair London,
As fast as she could gang.
16 Fan she came to Young Beachen's gate,
. . .
'Is Young Beachen att home,
Or is he in this country?'
17 'He is att home,
[H]is bearly bride him we;'
Sighan says her Suse Pay,
'Was he quit forgoten me?'
18 On every finger she had a ring,
An on the middel finger three;
She gave the porter on of them,
'Gett a word of your lord to me.'
19 He gaed up the stare,
Fell lau doun on his knee:
'Win up, my proud porter,
What is your will we [me]?'
20 'I ha ben porter att your gate
This therty year an three;
The fairest lady is att yer gate
Mine eays did ever see.'
21 Out spak the brid's mother,
An a haghty woman was she;
'If ye had not excepted the bonny brid,
Ye might well ha excepted me.'
22 'No desparegment to you, madam,
Nor non to her grace;
The sol of yon lady's foot
Is fairer then yer face.'
23 He's geen the table we his foot,
An caped it we his knee:
'I wad my head an a' my land
It's Susie Pay come over the sea.'
24 The stare was therty steps,
I wat he made them three;
He toke her in his arms tua,
'Susie Pay, y'er welcom to me!'
25 'Gie me a shive of your whit bread,
An a bottel of your wine;
Dinner ye mind on the lady's love
That freed ye out of pine?'
26 He took her. . .
Doun to yon garden green,
An changed her name fra Shusie Pay,
An called her bonny Lady Jean.
27 'Yer daughter came hear on high hors-back,
She sail gae hame in coaches three,
An I sail dubel her tocher our,
She is nean the war of me.'
28 'It's na the fashon of our country,
Nor yet of our name,
To wed a may in the morning
An send her hame att none.'
29 'It's na the fashon of my country,
Nor of my name,
Bat I man mind on the lady's love
That freed me out of pine.'
5[2. I att her foot I: cf. 8[2.
9[3. tours: cf. 6[3.
13[4. spending.
17[3. Sigh an.
18[2. niddel.
After 29:
Courtes kind an generse mind,
An winne ye ansur me?
An fan they hard ther lady's word,
Well ansuared was she.