{"id":96,"date":"2003-07-27T01:29:05","date_gmt":"2003-07-27T05:29:05","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blogs.law.harvard.edu\/desultor\/2003\/07\/27\/if-its-not-scottish\/"},"modified":"2003-07-27T01:29:05","modified_gmt":"2003-07-27T05:29:05","slug":"if-its-not-scottish","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/desultor\/2003\/07\/27\/if-its-not-scottish\/","title":{"rendered":"If it’s not Scottish…"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/a><\/p>\n

About this they were never wrong, the old balladeers and tale tellers: talking birds rule. We see this in the Arabian Nights (and of course Iago in Aladdin<\/i>). I still remember Kaw, the crow from Lloyd Alexander’s Prydain books, childhood faves of mine. O and I’ve seen it elsewhere too!<\/p>\n

In ye olde border minstrelsy, people try to bribe these birds — it’s just one of those ballad things, like a rose and a briar intertwining as they grow out of the star-crossed (with prejudice) lover’s graves. Usually the bird has witnessed some sort of misdemeanor. F’rinstance, after Lady Isabel (b.k.a. May Colven) has turned the tables on that ill-intentioned Elf Knight (a.k.a. False John), killed him and snuck back into the castle:<\/p>\n

\nShe lap on her milk steed
\n And fast she bent the way,
\nAnd she was at her father’s yate
\nThree long hours or day.<\/p>\n

Up and speaks the wylie parrot,
\n So wylily and slee:
\n‘Where is your man now, May Collin,
\n That gaed away wie thee?’<\/p>\n

‘Hold your tongue, my wylie parrot,
\n And tell no tales of me,
\nAnd where I gave a pickle befor
\n It’s now I’ll give you three.’\n<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

For what it’s worth, I can’t think of any times when the bribe is freedom. Far more often it’s some variation on the following, from another May Colven:<\/p>\n

\nSo she went on her father’s steed,
\nAs swift as she could flee,
\nAnd she came home to her father’s bower
\nBefore it was break of day.<\/p>\n

Up then and spoke the pretty parrot:
\n“May Colven, where have you been?
\nWhat has become of false Sir John,
\nThat woo’d you so late the streen?<\/p>\n

“He woo’d you butt, he woo’d you ben,
\nHe woo’d you in the ha,
\nUntil he got your own consent
\nFor to mount and gang awa.”<\/p>\n

“O hold your tongue, my pretty parrot,
\nLay not the blame upon me;
\nYour cup shall be of the flowered gold,
\nYour cage of the root of the tree.”<\/p>\n

Up then spake the king himself,
\nIn the bed-chamber where he lay:
\n“What ails the pretty parrot,
\nThat prattles so long or day?”<\/p>\n

“There came a cat to my cage door,
\nIt almost a worried me,
\nAnd I was calling on May Colven
\nTo take the cat from me.” <\/p><\/blockquote>\n

“Streen”! I’d like to be able to use that.<\/p>\n

I could pretty happily rattle on more about this — post more of my Child ballads — scour the ‘net for yet more versions — transcribe folksongs I have that incorporate this stuff — branch out into a full exploration of the “Pretty Polly” meme (“There came a black cat at my door \/ come for to devo-ur me \/ and I was a-calling my Pretty Polly \/ to sca-at that ca-at away”). The research, unfettered from worries about the output, is fun. But y’all can do it yoursils if you want. I’m going back to reading nursery rhymes and writing thank you notes. The only reason I even got on this stupid computer was to make note of this nursery rhyme, “Cock-A-Doodle-Do”, new to me today:<\/p>\n

\nOh, my pretty cock! Oh, my handsome cock!
\nI pray you, do not crow before day,
\nAnd your comb shall be made of the very beaten gold,
\nAnd your wings of the silver so gray.\n<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Naw, wait, the rhythm is reminding me of what I consider the canonical goods in this bribe, given here from yet another May Colven:<\/p>\n

\nHold your tongue, you pretty parrot
\nAnd tell no tales of me
\nYour cage shall be made of the yellow beaten gold
\nAnd your door of ivory.\n<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Oh! This may be my last chance, I could die tomorrow without having transcribed “Henry Lee”. It’s the very first song on the Harry Smith Anthology, performed by Dick Justice (what with him and that nursery rhyme there’ll be no reading me<\/a> in public libraries, I’m afraid).<\/p>\n

“Get down, get down, little Henry Lee
\nAnd stay all night with me
\nThe very best lodging I can afford
\nWill be fair bed around thee.”<\/p>\n

“I can’t get down or I won’t get down
\nAnd stay all night with thee,
\nFor the girl I have in that merry green land
\nI love her better than thee.”<\/p>\n

She leaned herself against the fence
\nJust for a kiss or two
\nWith a little pen knife held in her hand
\nShe plugged him through and through.<\/p>\n

“Come all you ladies in the town,
\nA secret for me keep
\nWith a diamond ring held on my hand
\nI never will forsake.<\/p>\n

Some take him by his lily white hand
\nSome take him by his feet
\nWe’ll throw him in this deep deep well,
\nMore than one hundred feet.<\/p>\n

Lie there, lie there, loving Henry Lee,
\n‘Til the flesh drops from your bones,
\nThe girl you have in that merry green land
\nShall wait for your return.<\/p>\n

Fly down, fly down you little bird
\nAnd alight on my right knee.
\nYour cage will be of purest gold
\nAnd need of proverty.”<\/p>\n

“I can’t fly down or I won’t fly down
\nAnd light on your right knee
\nA girl who’d murder her own true love
\nWould kill a little bird like me.”<\/p>\n

“If I had by benden bow,
\nmy arrow and my string,
\nI’d pierce a dart so nigh your heart
\nYour warble would be in vain.”<\/p>\n

“If you had your bended bow,
\nYour arrow and your string,
\nI’d fly away to the merry green land
\nAnd tell what I have seen.”\n<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

My transcription, I know, is but ill — I haven’t the ear — this one<\/a> has the legal terminology I missed in the important part. But I writes ’em how I hears ’em.<\/p>\n

This song is much corrupted in Nick Cave’s version<\/a> — now I know how Charles Kinbote felt when he saw that all the best parts of John Shade’s poem had been excised.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

About this they were never wrong, the old balladeers and tale tellers: talking birds rule. We see this in the Arabian Nights (and of course Iago in Aladdin). I still remember Kaw, the crow from Lloyd Alexander’s Prydain books, childhood faves of mine. O and I’ve seen it elsewhere too! In ye olde border minstrelsy, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":25,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-96","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/desultor\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/96","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/desultor\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/desultor\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/desultor\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/25"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/desultor\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=96"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/desultor\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/96\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/desultor\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=96"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/desultor\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=96"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/desultor\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=96"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}