Sacred Texts
Legends & Sagas
England
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275A: Get Up and Bar the Door
275A.1 IT fell about the Martinmas time,
And a gay time it was then,
When our goodwife got puddings to make,
And shes boild them in the pan.
275A.2 The wind sae cauld blew south and north,
And blew into the floor;
Quoth our goodman to our goodwife,
Gae out and bar the door.
275A.3 hand is in my hussyfskap,
Goodman, as ye may see;
An it shoud nae be barrd this hundred year,
Its no be barrd for me.
275A.4 y made a paction tween them twa,
They made it firm and sure,
That the first word whaeer shoud speak,
Shoud rise and bar the door.
275A.5 Then by there came two gentlemen,
At twelve o clock at night,
And they could neither see house nor hall,
Nor coal nor candle-light.
275A.6 Now whether is this a rich mans house,
Or whether is it a poor?
But neer a word wad ane o them speak,
For barring of the door.
275A.7 And first they ate the white puddings,
And then they ate the black;
Tho muckle thought the goodwife to hersel,
Yet neer a word she spake.
275A.8 Then said the one unto the other,
Here, man, tak ye my knife;
Do ye tak aff the auld mans beard,
And Ill kiss the goodwife.
275A.9 But theres nae water in the house,
And what shall we do than?
What ails ye at the pudding-broo,
That boils into the pan?
275A.10 O up then started our goodman,
An angry man was he:
Will ye kiss my wife before my een,
And scad me wi pudding-bree?
275A.11 Then up and started our goodwife,
Gied three skips on the floor:
Goodman, youve spoken the foremost word,
Get up and bar the door.
275B: Get Up and Bar the Door
275B.1 THERE leeved a wee man at the fit o yon hill,
John Blunt it was his name, O
And he selld liquor and ale o the best,
And bears a wondrous fame. O
Tal lara ta lilt, tal lare a lilt,
Tal lara ta lilt, tal lara
275B.2 The wind it blew frae north to south,
It blew into the floor;
Says auld John Blunt to Janet the wife,
Ye maun rise up and bar the door.
275B.3 My hans are in my husseyskep,
I canna weel get them free,
And if ye dinna bar it yersel
Itll never be barred by me.
275B.4 They made it up atween them twa,
They made it unco sure,
That the ane that spoke the foremost word
Was to rise and bar the door.
275B.5 There was twa travellers travelling late,
Was travelling cross the muir,
And they cam unto wee John Blunts,
Just by the light o the door.
275B.6 O whether is this a rich mans house,
Or whether is it a puir?
But never a word would the auld bodies speak,
For the barring o the door.
275B.7 First they bad good een to them,
And syne they bad good morrow;
But never a word would the auld bodies speak,
For the barring o the door, O.
275B.8 First they ate the white puddin,
And syne they ate the black,
And aye the auld wife said to hersel,
May the deil slip down wi that!
275B.9 And next they drank o the liquor sea strong,
And syne they drank o the yill:
And since we hae got a house o our ain
Im sure we may tak our fill.
275B.10 Its says the ane unto the ither,
Here, man, tak ye my knife,
An yell scrape aff the auld mans beard,
While I kiss the gudewife.
275B.11 Ye hae eaten my meat, ye hae drucken my drink,
Yed make my auld wife a whore!
John Blunt, ye hae spoken the foremost word,
Ye maun rise up and bar the door.
275C: Get Up and Bar the Door
275C.1 THERE livd a man in yonder glen,
And John Blunt was his name; O
He maks gude maut and he brews gude ale,
And he bears a wondrous fame. O
275C.2 The wind blew in the hallan ae night,
Fu snell out oer the moor;
Rise up, rise up, auld Luckie, he says,
Rise up, and bar the door.
275C.3 They made a paction tween them twa,
They made it firm and sure,
Whaeer sud speak the foremost word
Should rise and bar the door.
275C.4 Three travellers that had tint their gate,
As thro the hills they foor,
They airted by the line o light
Fu straught to Johnie Blunts door.
275C.5 They haurld auld Luckie out o her bed
And laid her on the floor,
But never a word auld Luckie wad say,
For barrin o the door.
275C.6 Yeve eaten my bread, ye hae druken my ale,
And yell mak my auld wife a whore!
A ha, Johnie Blunt! ye hae spoke the first word,
Get up and bar the door.
Next: 276. The Friar in the Well