"Wilt thou give me the keys of thy castell,
Wi' the blessing of thy gaye ladye?
I'se make the sheriffe of Ettricke Foreste,
Surely while upward grows the tree,
be not traitour to the King,
Forfaulted sall thou nevir be."

If

you

But, Prince, what sall cum o' my men? When I gae back, traitour they'll ca' me, I had rather lose my life and land

Ere my merryemen rebuked me."

"Will your merryemen amend their lives?
And a' their pardons I grant thee—
Now, name thy landis where'er they be,
And here I Render them to thee."

"Fair Philiphaugh is mine by right,
And Lewinshope still mine shall be,
Newark, Foulshiells, and Tinnies baith,
My bow and arrow purchased me,

"And I have native steads to me,
The Newark Lee and Hanginshaw,
I have mony steads in the Forest schaw
But them by name I dinna knaw."

The keys of the castell he gave the King,
Wi' the blessing o' his feir ladye.
He was made sheriffe of Ettricke Foreste,
Surely while upward grows the tree,

211

And if he was na traitour to the King
Forfaulted he suld nevir be.

Wha ever heard, in ony times

Sicken an Outlaw in his degré,

Sic favour get befor a King

As did the Outlaw Murray of the Forest free?

66

HIS ballad," observes Sir Walter, "is one of the few, to which popular tradition has ascribed complete locality."

"The farm of Blackhouse, in Selkirkshire, is said to have been the scene of this melancholy event. There are the remains of a very ancient tower, adjacent to the farmhouse, in a wild and solitary glen, upon a torrent named Douglas burn, which joins the Yarrow, after passing a craggy rock, called the Douglas craig.

"From this ancient tower, Lady Margaret is

said to have been carried by her lover. Seven large stones, erected upon the neighbouring heights of Blackhouse, are shewn as marking the spot where the seven brethren were slain ; and the Douglas burn is averred to have been the stream at which the lovers stopped to drink.” But however distinctly localized "The Douglas Tragedy" may be in Scotland, the scene of a precisely similar story is no less minutely pointed out in the Danish ballad of "Ribolt and Guldborg." The Wilkina Saga, moreover, contains another version of the same legend; and the Swedish ballad of "Fair Midel," is clearly from the same source.

It is extremely difficult to pronounce with any degree of certainty, as to the causes of this similarity but the resemblance is so very remarkable as to render it highly probable that the legend belongs to a very early period; according to Jamieson, "to the first arrival of the Cimbri in Britain."2

Jamieson and Weber, Illustrations of Northern Antiquities, p. 324.

2 Popular Ballads and Songs, vol. ii. p. 89.

THE DOUGLAS TRAGEDY.

ISE up, rise up, now, Lord Douglas," she

R1

says,

"And put on your armour so bright; Let it never be said that a daughter of thine Was married to a lord under night.

"Rise up, rise up, my seven bold sons,
And put on your armour so bright,
And take better care of your youngest sister,
For your eldest's awa' the last night."

He's mounted her on a milk-white steed,
And himself on a dapple grey,

With a bugelet horn hung down by his side
And lightly they rode away.'

Lord William lookit o'er his left shoulder,

To see what he could see;

In the Danish ballad, Guldborg is disguised as her

lover's page

"And ye maun put on my brynie blae;

My gilded helmet ye shall hae;

My gude brand belted by your side;

Sae unlike a lady ye will ride."