The Poetry Corner

Lord Randal

By Frank Sidgwick

The Text is from Scott's Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border (1803). Other forms give the name as Lord Ronald, but Scott retains Randal on the supposition that the ballad originated in the death of 'Thomas Randolph, or Randal, Earl of Murray, nephew to Robert Bruce, and governor of Scotland,' who died at Musselburgh in 1332. The Story of the ballad is found in Italian tradition nearly three hundred years ago, and also occurs in Dutch, German, Swedish, Danish, Magyar, Wendish, etc. Certain variants of the ballad bear the title of The Croodlin Doo, and the 'handsome young man' is changed for a child, and the poisoner is the child's step-mother. Scott suggests that this change was made 'to excite greater interest in the nursery.' In nearly all forms of the ballad, the poisoning is done by the substitution of snakes ('eels') for fish, a common method amongst the ancients of administering poison. Child gives a collation of seven versions secured in America of late years, in each of which the name of Lord Randal has become corrupted to 'Tiranti.' The antiphonetic form of the ballad is popular, as being dramatic and suitable for singing. Compare Edward, also a dialogue between mother and son. LORD RANDAL 1. 'O where hae ye been, Lord Randal, my son? O where hae ye been, my handsome young man?' 'I hae been to the wild wood; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down.' 2. 'Where gat ye your dinner, Lord Randal, my son? Where gat ye your dinner, my handsome young man?' 'I din'd wi' my true-love; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down.' 3. 'What gat ye to your dinner, Lord Randal, my son? What gat ye to your dinner, my handsome young man?' 'I gat eels boil'd in broo'; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down.' 4. 'What became of your bloodhounds, Lord Randal, my son? What became of your bloodhounds, my handsome young man?' 'O they swell'd and they died; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down.' 5. 'O I fear ye are poison'd, Lord Randal, my son! O I fear ye are poison'd, my handsome young man!' 'O yes, I am poison'd; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wald lie down.'