Young Brechin- Glenriddell 1791; Child B

Young Brechin- Glenriddell 1791; Child B

Young Brechin- Version B; Child 53 Young Beichan
Glenriddell Manuscripts, XI, 80, 1791

1    In England was Young Brechin born,
Of parents of a high degree;
The selld him to the savage Moor,
Where they abused him maist cruellie.

2    Thro evry shoulder they bord a bore,
And thro evry bore they pat a tree;
They made him draw the carts o wine,
Which horse and owsn were wont to drie.

3    The pat him into prison strong,
Where he could neither hear nor see;
They pat him in a dark dungeon,
Where he was sick and like to die.

4    'Is there neer an auld wife in this town
That'll borrow me to be her son?
Is there neer a young maid in this town
Will take me for her chiefest one?'

5    A Savoyen has an only daughter,
I wat she's called Young Brichen by;
'O sleepst thou, wakest thou, Brichen?' she says,
'Or who is't that does on me cry?

6    'O hast thou any house or lands,
Or hast thou any castles free,
That thou wadst gi to a lady fair
That out o prison wad bring thee?'

7    'O lady, Lundin it is mine,
And other castles twa or three;
These I wad gie to a lady fair
That out of prison wad set me free.'

8    She's taen him by the milk-white hand,
And led him to a towr sae hie,
She's made him drink the wine sae reid,
And sung to him like a mavosie.

9    O these two luvers made a bond,
For seven years, and that is lang,
That he was to marry no other wife,
And she's to marry no other man.

10    n seven years were past and gane,
This young lady began to lang,
And she's awa to Lundin gane,
To see if Brechin's got safe to land.

11    When she came to Young Brechin's yett,
She chappit gently at the gin;
'Is this Young Brechin's yett?' she says,
'Or is this lusty lord within?'
'O yes, this is Lord Brechin's yett,
And I wat this be his bridal een.'

12    She's put her hand in her pocket,
And thrawin the porter guineas three;
'Gang up the stair, young man,' she says,
'And bid your master come down to me.

13    'Bid him bring a bite o his ae best bread,
And a bottle o his ae best wine,
And neer forget that lady fair
That did him out o prison bring.'

14    The porter tripped up the stair,
And fell low down upon his knee:
'Rise up, rise up, ye proud porter,
What mean you by this courtesie?'

15    'O I hae been porter at your yett
This thirty years and a' but three;
There stands the fairest lady thereat
That ever my twa een did see.

16    'On evry finger she has a ring,
On her mid-finger she has three;
She's as much gold on her horse's neck
As wad by a earldom o land to me.

17    'She bids you send o your ae best bread,
And a bottle o your ae best wine,
And neer forget the lady fair
That out o prison did you bring.'

18    He's taen the table wi his foot,
And made the cups and cans to flee:
'I'll wager a' the lands I hae
That Susan Pye's come oer the sea.'
* * * * *

19    Then up and spak the bride's mother:
'And O an ill deid may ye die!
If ye didna except the bonny bride,
Ye might hae ay excepted me.'

20    'O ye are fair, and fair, madam,
And ay the fairer may ye be!
But the fairest day that eer ye saw,
Ye were neer sae fair as yon lady.'

21    O when these lovers two did meet,
The tear it blinded baith their ee;
'Gie me my faith and troth,' she says,
'For now fain hame wad I be.'

22    'Tak hame your daughter, madam,' he says,
'She's neer a bit the war o me;
Except a kiss o her bonny lips,
Of her body I am free;
She came to me on a single horse,
Now I'll send her hame in chariots three.'

23    He's taen her by the milk-white hand,
And he's led her to a yard o stane;
He's changed her name frae Susan Pye,
And calld her lusty Lady Jane.