me young man?"
"I hae been to the wild wood; mother, make my bed soon,
"For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."

"Where gat ye your dinner, Lord Randal, my son?
"Where gat ye your dinner, my handsome young man?"
"I din'd wi' my true-love; mother, make my bed soon,
"For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."

"What gat ye to your dinner, Lord Randal, my son?.
"What gat ye to your dinner, my handsome young man?"
"I gat eels boil'd in broo'; mother, make my bed soon,
"For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."

"What became of your bloodhounds, Lord Randal, my son?
"What became of your bloodhounds, my handsome young man?"
"O they swell'd and they died; mother, make my bed soon,
"For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."

"O I fear ye are poison'd, Lord Randal, my son!
"O I fear ye are poison'd, my handsome young man!"
"O yes! I am poison'd; mother, make my bed soon,
"For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wald lie down."

SIR HUGH LE BLOND.

This ballad is a northern composition, and seems to have been the
original of the legend called _Sir Aldingar_, which is printed in the
_Reliques of Antient Poetry_. The incidents are nearly the same in both
ballads, excepting that, in _Aldingar_, an angel combats for the queen,
instead of a mortal champion. The names of _Aldingar_ and _Rodingham_
approach near to each other in sound, though not in orthography, and the
one might, by reciters, be easily substituted for the other.

The tradition, upon which the ballad is founded, is universally current
in the Mearns; and the editor is informed, that, till very lately, the
sword, with which Sir Hugh le Blond was believed to have defended
the life and honour of the queen, was carefully preserved by his
descendants, the viscounts of Arbuthnot. That Sir Hugh of Arbuthnot
lived in the thirteenth century, is proved by his having, in 1282,
bestowed the patronage of the church of Garvoch upon the monks of
Aberbrothwick, for the safety of his soul.--_Register of Aberbrothwick,
quoted by Crawford in Peerage._ But I find no instance in history, in
which the honour of a queen of Scotland was committed to the chance of
a duel. It is true, that Mary, wife of Alexander II., was, about 1242,
somewhat implicated in a dark story, concerning the murder of Patrick,
earl of Athole, burned in his lodging at Haddington, where he had gone
to attend a great tournament. The