‘O where are a’ my rangers bold That I pay meat and fee, To search the forest far an’ wide, And bring Etin back to me?’
Out it speaks the little wee boy: ‘Na, na, this mauna be; Without ye grant a free pardon, I hope ye’ll nae him see.’--
‘O here I grant a free pardon, Well seal’d by my own han’; Ye may mak’ search for Young Etin As soon as ever ye can.’
They search’d the country wide and braid, The forests far and near, And they found him into Elmond’s wood, Tearing his yellow hair.
‘Win up, win up now, Hynd Etin, Win up an’ boun[269] wi’ me; We’re messengers come frae the court; The King wants you to see.’--
‘O lat them tak’ frae me my head, Or hang me on a tree; For since I’ve lost my dear lady, Life’s no pleasure to me.’--
‘Your head will na be touch’d, Etin, Nor you hang’d on a tree; Your lady’s in her father’s court And a’ he wants is thee.’
When he cam’ in before the King, Fell low down on his knee; ‘Win up, win up now, Young Etin, This day ye’se dine wi’ me.’
But as they were at dinner set The wee boy ask’d a boon: ‘I wish we were in a good kirk For to get christendoun.
‘For we hae lived in gude green wood This seven years and ane; But a’ this time since e’er I mind Was never a kirk within.’--
‘Your asking’s na sae great, my boy, But granted it sall be; This day to gude kirk ye sall gang And your mither sall gang you wi’.’
When unto the gude kirk she came, She at the door did stan’; She was sae sair sunk down wi’ shame, She couldna come farther ben.
Then out and spak’ the parish priest, And a sweet smile ga’e he: ‘Come ben, come ben, my lily-flower, Present your babes to me.’
Charles, Vincent, Sam and Dick, And likewise John and James; They call’d the eldest Young Etin, Which was his father’s name.
[263] hallow seat = holy man’s or hermit’s cave.
Erlinton had a fair daughter; I wat he wear’d her in[270] a great sin; For he has built a bigly bower, And a’ to put that lady in.
An’ he has warn’d her sisters six, An’ sae has he her brethren se’en, Outher to watch her a’ the night, Or else to seek her morn an’ e’en.
She hadna been i’ that bigly bower, Na not a night but barely ane, Till there was Willie, her ain true love, Chapp’d[271] at the door, cryin’ ‘Peace within!’
‘O whae is this at my bower door, That chaps sae late, nor kens the gin[272]?’-- ‘O it is Willie, your ain true love, I pray you rise an’ let me in.’--