Posthumous Poems/Lord Scales

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

LORD SCALES

Lord Randal lay in low prison,
 He looked against the wa';
Gin the big wa' stanes were linen bands,
 I'd win weel through them a'.

Lord Randal sat by a low lattice,
 He looked against the sea;
Gin the foul bed straws were bonny ships,
 I wot weel wad I be.

Lord Randal stood by a strang window
 He looked against his hand;
Gin my twa wrist chains were hempen threads,
 I'd win weel to the sand.

Ye'll take the rings frae my fingers,
 The silken knot frae my hair:
Ye'll gie them to the bonny knight
 That cries on me sae sair.

Ye'll take the gowd bands frae my back,
 The covers frae my bed:
Ye'll gie them to the Lord Randal,
 To put beneath his head.

Hae silk into your hands, Randal,
 And gowd twine to your feet
And braw pillows about your head
 To keep your lang hair sweet.

For the rain rins through the rank bed straw,
 And the wet drips in the wa';
And the wee red worms in this prison
 Wad gar your gowd hair fa'.

I had liefer hae my ain twa hands,
 And keep my body cold;
I had liefer hae my own twa feet
 Than twa sic shoon of gold.

But I had liefer hae my lady's mouth
 Than the silk and the siller bands;
But I had liefer hae her sweet body
Than a' the gowd in land.

I had liefer kiss my lady dead
 Than a live woman should kiss me:
I had liefer hae my lady dead
 Than a fair woman's live body.

O ye'se hae twine o' gowd for hemp,
 And twine o' silk for thread;
And ye shall hae her fair body,
 But no' her body dead.

She's loosed the knot upon his back,
 The knot upon his throat:
She's clad him with a suit of samite,
 And red silk to his coat.

She's washed him well wi' sweet waters,
 Put spice into his hair;
She's set his feet in a narrow side chamber,
 Upon a sideway stair.

He's ta'en him to her, Lady Helen,
 Where she sat by a bed,
The least cloth upon her body,
 It was of the noble red.

The insides of her bed curtains,
 The gold was gone them through;
The outsides of her bed curtains,
 They were full merry and blue.

The silk side of her bed pillows,
 It was of the summer green;
The gold was bound in her gold hair,
 That now should tell them twa between.

O came ye for my lord's land,
 O for my lord's fee;
Or came ye for my lord's hate,
 Or yet for the love of me?

O gin ye come like a land robber,
 Full soon shall ye hang;
But gin ye come like a woman's lover,
 Full sweetly ye shall gang.

O it was never for no hate,
 For lord's love nor for fee:
But a' the weird that is me on
 It was a' for your body.

Gin ye set nae scorn by me, Randal,
 To dree a weird and a pain,
It's no Lord Scales my auld husband
 That shall depart us twain.

Gin this be sooth of you, Randal,
 That ye have good will to play;
It's no Lord Scales my auld husband
 Shall be better of us twey.

For I hae reapers to the land,
 And sailors to the sea;
And I hae maidens to my bower
 That wait by three and three;
And it's no Lord Scales my auld husband
 Shall part my will and me.

The first draw rapes upon the ship
 Between the sea and the sea sand;
The neist they lie in the lang corn,
 Wi' the reaphooks to their hand;
And between the lang beds and the wa',
 It's there the maidens stand.

She's had him to her bonnie bed,
 She's laid it warm and wide;
He's clipped that lady by the middle waist,
 And by the middle side.

There was neither light nor fire them by,
 And they twain were set to sleep,
When she's turned her chin to the pillow side
 Made her a space to weep.

He kissed her on her fair twa breasts,
 And hard upon her chin;
He's kissed her by her white halse-bane
 The little salt tears fell in.

The small tears fell about her face
 Between her lips and his;
From side to side of her gold hair
 Her face was full sad to kiss.

Lie down, lie down now, Lady Helen,
 Lie still into my hand;
I wadna gie ane o' the pillow-beres
 For ten measures of land.

Lie still into mine arms, Helen,
 Betwixen sheet and sheet:
I wadna gie ane o' the cods of silk
 For ten measures of wheat.

Lie still into mine arms, Helen,
 The gold side of the bed;
I wadna gie ane o' thy kaims o' lammer
 For the gold on the queen's head.

It's I lie saft the night, Randal,
 With my head against your face;
But gin ye had slept in my stables,
 It had been the sweeter place.

It's I lie saft the night, Randal,
 But yell lie hard the morn;
For I hear a mouse rin by the straw,
 And a bird rin by the corn.

O whatten a bird is that, Helen,
 I wad fain ken what it ails?
It's an auld bird and an ill, Randal,
 Gin it be no Lord Scales.

Then in and came her auld husband,
 I wot a fu' lean bird was he;
It's wake ye or sleep ye now, madame,
 Ye'se gar mak room for me.

O are ye sick the night, Lord Scales,
 In the head or else the side?
Or are ye fain to sleep, Lord Scales,
 For the fear ye have to ride?

Randal's taen out her girdle knife,
 He's stricken him amang his een;
It was mair for the lady's love
 Than it was for his proper teen.

Out came a' her bower maidens,
 In their night smocks and night rails;
It was a' for sorrow of their lady,
 It was naething for Lord Scales.

Out came a' her bower maidens,
 In their sma' coats green and white;
With a red rose wrought for the left breast,
 And a rose wrought for the right.

Lord Scales had on a goodly coat,
 It was a' bound wi' steel thickly;
Lord Randal had but a little shirt
 Between the wind and his body.

The first good straik Lord Randal strak,
 The red blood sprang upon his face;
It was mair for his lady's love
 Than it was for her lord's grace.

The neist good straik Lord Randal strak,
 The bright blood sprang upon his nails;
It was mair for love of Lady Helen
 Than pity of Lord Scales.

Lord Scales he strak a fu' straight straik,
 But Randal strak a sair;
Lord Scales had a little joy of it,
 But Lady Helen had mair.

Gar set my ships into the sea
 And my hooks into the corn;
For gin I have lost a man the night,
 I'll get a man the morn.

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