A little long, but here it is. There are some differences in wording not attributable to the difficulties of transcribing from a home-made tape in a foreign language. Brian has recorded his adaptation of the song twice, however: like Stewie, I have the 1997 Fellside set (Ballads, FECD110, from which this is transcribed), but there is a later one on his most recent recording, Lines, which I haven't yet heard. Perhaps the more puzzling differences derive from that. There is no "Irish maid", for example, in the texts printed by Child from which Brian drew the material for his re-make (anglicised; hence "holly" rather than "hollin", and so on); where the maid or companion is given a name, it is most usually Catherine, and that is her name in the Ballads recording.

The text Marie has is certainly Brian's re-make, though changed in places. I must get myself that new CD; his reworkings of the "big" ballads are usually quite a treat. Meanwhile, does anybody have a copy of Lines to hand, and the time to check whether or not he has modified his text? Such things often develop over time, and it would be interesting to see how it has changed.

I've indicated points of difference from, and additions to, Maries' transcription in red, but have removed redundant words and repeated verses without indication.

The tune used -though apparently none of the text- came from a recording of Martin McDonagh (his name for the song was Lady Margaret), made by Tom Munnelly at Co. Roscommon in May 1974. Forms of it are also found with other songs; I've heard it in a traditional set of Little Sir Hugh, and Bert Lloyd sang Tam Lin to a close variant.


Young Hunting

Young Hunting is to the castle gone
As fast as he could ride,
He's a hunting horn about his waist
A broadsword by his side;
A broadsword by his side.

And when he came to the castle gates
He's pulled all at the pin,
No one so ready as the lady herself
To arise and let him in;
Arise and let him in.

You're welcome here, my Young Hunting
For coal and candle light
And so welcome are you, Young Hunting
To lie with me this night;
To lie with me this night.

I thank you for your light lady
So do I for your coal
But there's a fairer woman than ten of thee
Meets me at Brandie's Well;
Meets me at Brandie's Well.

He bent down o'er his saddlebow
To kiss her ruby cheek;
But she took out a little pen knife,
And wounded him full deep;
And wounded him full deep.

She has called on her maid Catherine
So long before the day
I have a dead man in my bower
I wish he was away;
I wish he was away.

They booted him and spurrèd him
As he was wont to ride
They've taken him to the wide water
They call the river Clyde;
They call the river Clyde.

One has taken him by his feet
The other one by his head
In the deepest parts of Clyde water
It's there they made his bed;
It's there they made his bed.

Lie there, lie there, you young Hunting
'Til the blood seep from your bone
That fairer woman than ten of me
Will wait long ere you come home;
Wait long ere you come home.

Then up and spoke the bonny little bird
That stood all in the tree
Go home, go home, you false lady
Pay your maid her fee;
And pay your maid her fee.

Come down, come down, my bonny little bird
Come down into my hand
Your cage I'll make of the fine beaten gold
Where now is the willow wand;
Where now is the willow wand.

Keep your cage of beaten gold
And I will keep my tree
For as you did with Young Hunting
You'd do the same with me;
You'd do the same with me.

And it fell out on the very next day
The king was going to ride
And he has sent for for Young Hunting
To ride all at his side;
To ride all at his side.

The lady swore by the grass so green
So did she by the corn
I saw not your son Young Hunting
Since yesterday at morn;
Yesterday at morn.

But I saw him ride to Clyde Water
I fear he's drowned therein
And they have sent the divers bold
To dive for Young Hunting;
To dive for Young Hunting.

Then up and spoke the bonny little bird
That flew above their heads:
Dive on, dive on, you divers bold
For there he lies indeed;
For there he lies indeed.

But leave off your diving in the day
And dive all in the night
And where Young Hunting he lies slain
The candles will burn full bright;
The candles will burn full bright.

So they left off diving in the day
And dived all in the night
And where Young Hunting he lay slain
The candles burned full bright;
The candles burned full bright.

White, white were his wounds all washed
As white as a linen clout
But when the lady she came near
The blood come gushing out;
The blood come gushing out.

Well it's surely been my maid Catherine
And ill may she betide
For I'd have never slain my Young Hunting
And thrown him in the Clyde;
And thrown him in the Clyde.

So they have taken the maid Catherine
And a bonfire set her in
But the fire wouldn't take upon her cheek
Not yet upon her chin;
Nor yet upon her chin.

So they've taken out the maid Catherine
They've thrown the lady in
And the fire took fast on her fair body
She burned like holly green;
She burned like holly green.