Chapter XVII Katharine Janfarie
This ballad is evidently the original of Sir Walter Scott’s “Lochinvar,” though Sir Walter reversed the names of the two leading male characters. In “Katharine Janfarie” Lochinvar plays the part of the craven bridegroom.
There was a may,[#] and a weel-far’d may,
Lived high up in yon glen;
Her name was Katharine Janfarie,
She was courted by mony men.
[#] maiden.
Up there came Lord Lauderdale,
Up frae the Lowland Border,
And he has come to court this may,
A’ mounted in good order.
He told na her father, he told na her mother,
And he told na ane o’ her kin,
But he whispered the bonnie lassie hersell,
And has her favour won.
But out there cam Lord Lochinvar,
Out frae the English Border,
All for to court this bonny may,
Weel mounted, and in order.
He told her father, he told her mother,
And a’ the lave[#] o’ her kin;
But he told na the bonny may hersell,
Till on her wedding e’en.
[#] rest.
She sent to the Lord o’ Lauderdale,
Gin[#] he wad come and see,
And he has sent back word again,
Weel answered he suld[#] be.
[#] if.
[#] should.
And he has sent a messenger
Right quickly through the land,
And raised mony an armed man
To be at his command.
The bride looked out at a high window,
Beneath baith dale and down,
And she was aware of her first true love,
With riders mony a one.
She scoffed him, and scorned him,
Upon her wedding-day;
And said, “It was the Fairy Court,
To see him in array!
“O come ye here to fight, young lord,
Or come ye here to play?
Or come ye here to drink good wine,
Upon the wedding-day?”
“I come na here to fight,” he said,
“I come na here to play,
I’ll but lead a dance wi’ the bonny bride,
And mount, and go my way.”
It is a glass of the blood-red wine
Was filled up them between,
And aye she drank to Lauderdale,
Wha[#] her true love had been.
[#] who.
He’s taen[#] her by the milk-white hand,
And by the grass-green sleeve;
He’s mounted her hie behind himsell,
At her kinsmen speired[#] na leave.
[#] taken.
[#] asked.
“Now take your bride, Lord Lochinvar!
Now take her if ye may!
But if you take your bride again,
We’ll call it but foul play.”
There were four-and-twenty bonnie boys,
A’ clad in the Johnstone grey;
They said they would take the bride again,
By the strong hand, if they may.
Some o’ them were right willing men,
But they were na willing a’;
And four-and-twenty Leader lads
Bid them mount and ride awa’.
Then whingers flew frae gentles’ sides,
And swords flew frae the shea’s,[#]
And red and rosy was the blood
Ran down the lily braes.
[#] sheathes.
The blood ran down by Caddon bank,
And down by Caddon brae,
And, sighing, said the bonnie bride—
“O wae’s me for foul play.”
My blessing on your heart, sweet thing!
Wae to your wilfu’ will!
There’s mony a gallant gentleman
Whae’s bluid ye have garred[#] to spill.
[#] caused.
Now a’ the lords of fair England,
And that dwell by the English Border,
Come never here to seek a wife,
For fear of sic[#] disorder.
[#] such.
They’ll track ye up, and settle ye bye,
Till on your wedding-day;
Then gie ye frogs instead of fish,
And play ye foul foul play.
LOCHINVAR
In Sir Walter Scott’s poem, Lochinvar is the hero, and the story has a happier ending. The song was supposed to have been sung to James IV. by Lady Heron at Holyrood shortly before the fatal battle of Flodden.
O young Lochinvar has come out of the west,
Through all the wide border his steel was the best;
And save his good broadsword, he weapons had none,
He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone,
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.
He staid not for brake, and he stopped not for stone,
He swam the Eske river where ford there was none,
But ere he alighted at Netherby gate,
The bride had consented, the gallant came late;
For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,
Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.
So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall,
Among bride’s men, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all,
Then spoke the bride’s father, his hand on his sword
(For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word),
“O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war,
Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?”
“I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied;
Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide,
And now am I come, with this lost love of mine,
To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine,
There are maidens in Scotland, more lovely by far,
That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar.”
The bride kissed the goblet; the knight took it up,
He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup.
She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh,
With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye.
He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar,
“Now tread we a measure!” said young Lochinvar.
So stately her form, and so lovely her face,
That never a hall such a galliard did grace;
While her brother did fret, and her father did fume,
And the bridgroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume,
And the bride-maidens whispered, “’Twere better by far,
To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.”
One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,
When they reached the hall-door, and the charger stood near;
So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,
So light to the saddle before her he sprung!
“She is won! we have gone over bank, bush, and scaur;
They’ll have fleet steeds that follow,” quoth young Lochinvar.
There was mounting ‘mong Graemes of the Netherby clan;
Fosters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran,
There was racing and chasing, on Cannobie Lee,
But the lost bride of Netherby ne’er did they see.
So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,
Have ye e’er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?