Five favourite songs (11)/Get Up and Bar the Door

GET UP AND BAR THE DOOR.

It fell upon a Martinmas time,
⁠And a gay timo it was then,
When our goodwife got puddings to make,
⁠And she boil’d them in a pan.

The wind sae cauld blew south and north.
⁠And blew into the floor,
Quoth our goodman to our goodwife,
⁠Get up and bar the door.

My hand is in my hussy’s skap,
⁠Goodman as you may see,
An’ it should na be barr’d this hundred year,
⁠It’s no be barr’d for me.

They made a paction ’tween them twa,
⁠They made it firm and sure,
That the first word whae’er should speak,
⁠Should rise and bar the door

Then by there came twa gentlemen,
⁠At twelve o’clock at night,
And they could neither see house nor hall,
⁠Nor coal nor candle light.

Now, whether is this a rich man’s house?
⁠Or whether is it a poor?
But ne’er a word would ane o’ them speak,

⁠For barring of the door.

And first they ate the white puddings,
⁠And then they ate the black;
Tho’ muckle thought the goodwife to hersel’,
⁠Yet ne’er a word she spak’.

Then said the one unto the other,
⁠Here man, take my knife,
Do ye tak’ aff the auld man's beard,
⁠And I’ll kiss the goodwife.

But there’s nae water in the house,
⁠And what shall we do then?
What ails you at the pudding bree
⁠That boils into the pan?

O up then started our goodman,
⁠An angry man was he;
Will ye kiss my wife before my face,
⁠And scad me wi’ pudding bree?

Then up then started our goodwife,
⁠Gi’ed three skips on the floor:
Goodman, you’ve spoken the foremost word,
⁠Get up and bar the door.