The Broomfield Hill Ewan MacColl (child 43)

The Broomfield Hill
Ewan MacColl
The English and Scottish Popular Ballads Vol. 2 Child Ballads
Child No. 43
A man and a woman make a wager, that she can not visit him in the greenwood without losing her virginity. She goes, sometimes after advice from a witch-wife, and puts him in an enchanted sleep; then, leaving tokens that she had come and gone.
He wakes and taxes those with him -- his goshawk, his servingmen, his horse, or his hound -- that they did not wake him, but they answer it was impossible. He is angry that he did not manage to take her virginity and, in many variants, murder her afterward.
In some variants, she hears this and leaves glad.
Traditional Lyrics:

The Broomfield Hill
There was a knight and lady bright
Set trysts amo the broom,
The one to come at morning ear,
The other at afternoon.
Ill wager a wager wi you, he said,
An hundred merks and ten,
That ye shall not go to Broomfield Hills,
Return a maiden again.
Ill wager a wager wi you, she said,
A hundred pounds and ten,
That I will gang to Broomfield Hills,
A maiden return again.
The lady stands in her bower door,
And thus she made her mane:
O shall I gang to Broomfield Hills,
Or shall I stay at hame?
If I do gang to Broomfield Hills,
A maid Ill not return;
But if I stay from Broomfield Hills,
Ill be a maid mis-sworn.
Then out it speaks an auld witch-wife,
Sat in the bower aboon:
O ye shall gang to Broomfield Hills,
Ye shall not stay at hame.
But when ye gang to Broomfield Hills,
Walk nine times round and round;
Down below a bonny burn bank,
Yell find your love sleeping sound.
Yell pu the bloom frae aff the broom,
Strewt at his head and feet,
And aye the thicker that ye do strew,
The sounder he will sleep.
The broach that is on your napkin,
Put it on his breast bane,
To let him know, when he does wake,
Thats true loves come and gane.
The rings that are on your fingers,
Lay them down on a stane,
To let him know, when he does wake,
Thats true loves come and gane.
And when ye hae your work all done,
Yell gang to a bush o broom,
And then youll hear what he will say,
When he sees ye are gane.
When she came to Broomfield Hills,
She walkd it nine times round,
And down below yon burn bank,
She found him sleeping sound.
She pud the bloom frae aff the broom,
Strewd it at s head and feet,
And aye the thicker that she strewd,
The sounder he did sleep.
The broach that was on her napkin,
She put on his breast bane,
To let him know, when he did wake,
His love was come and gane.
The rings that were on her fingers,
She laid upon a stane,
To let him know, when he did wake,
His love was come and gane.
Now when she had her work all dune,
She went to a bush o broom,
That she might hear what he did say,
When he saw she was gane.
O where were ye, my guid grey hound,
That I paid for sae dear,
Ye didna waken me frae my sleep
When my true love was sae near?
I scraped wi my foot, master,
Till a my collars rang,
But still the mair that I did scrape,
Waken woud ye nane.
Where were ye, my berry-brown steed,
That I paid for sae dear,
That ye woudna waken me out o my sleep
When my love was sae near?
I patted wi my foot, master,
Till a my bridles rang,
But still the mair that I did patt,
Waken woud ye nane.
O where were ye, my gay goss-hawk,
That I paid for sae dear,
That ye woudna waken me out o my sleep
When ye sae my love near?
I flapped wi my wings, master,
Till a my bells they rang,
But still the mair that I did flap,
Waken woud ye nane.
O where were ye, my merry young men,
That I pay meat and fee,
Ye woudna waken me out o my sleep
When my love ye did see?
Yell sleep mair on the night, master,
And wake mair on the day;
Gae sooner down to Broomfield Hills
When yeve sic pranks to play.
If I had seen any armed men
Come riding over the hill-+-
But I saw but a fair lady
Come quietly you until.
O wae mat worth you, my young men,
That I pay meat and fee,
That ye woudna waken me frae sleep
When ye my love did see.
O had I waked when she was nigh,
And o her got my will,
I shoudna cared upon the morn
Tho sma birds o her were fill.
When she went out, right bitter wept,
But singing came she hame;
Says, I hae been at Broomfield Hills,
And maid returnd again.