nd."

"Awa! awa! ye ill woman:
"Nae cage o' gowd for me;
"As ye hae dune to Erl Richard,
"Sae wad ye do to me."

She hadna cross'd a rigg o' land,
A rigg, but barely ane;
When she met wi' his auld father,
Came riding all alane.

"Where hae ye been, now, ladye fair,
"Where hae ye been sae late?"
"We hae been seeking Erl Richard,
"But him we canna get."

"Erl Richard kens a' the fords in Clyde,
"He'll ride them ane by ane,
"And though the night was ne'er sae mirk,
"Erl Richard will he hame."

O it fell anes, upon a day,
The king was boun' to ride;
And he has mist him, Erl Richard,
Should hae ridden on his right side.

The ladye turn'd her round about,
Wi' meikle mournfu' din--
"It fears me sair o' Clyde water,
"That he is drown'd therein."

"Gar douk, gar douk,"[B] the king he cried,
"Gar douk for gold and fee;
"O wha will douk for Erl Richard's sake,
"Or wha will douk for me?"

They douked in at ae weil-head,[C]
And out ay at the other;
"We can douk nae mair for Erl Richard,
"Although he were our brother."

It fell that, in that ladye's castle,
The king was boun' to bed;
And up and spake the popinjay,
That flew abune his head.

"Leave off your douking on the day,
"And douk upon the night;
"And where that sackless[D] knight lies slain,
"The candles will burn bright."

"O there's a bird within this bower,
"That sings baith sad and sweet;
"O there's a bird within your bower,
"Keeps me frae my night's sleep."

They left the douking on the day,
And douked upon the night;
And, where that sackless knight lay slain,
The candles burned bright.

The deepest pot in a' the linn,
They fand Erl Richard in;
A grene turf tyed across his breast,
To keep that gude lord down.

Then up and spake the king himsell,
When he saw the deadly wound--
"O wha has slain my right-hand man,
"That held my hawk and hound?"

Then up and spake the popinjay,
Says--"What needs a' this din?
"It was his light lemman took his life,
"And hided him in the linn."

She swore her by the grass, sae grene,
Sae did she by the corn,
She had na' seen him, Erl Richard,
Since Moninday at morn.

"Put na the wite on me," she said;
"It was my may Catherine."
Then they hae cut baith fern and thorn,
To burn that maiden in.

It wadna take upon her che