%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> THE / Highland Man's Lament, / For the Dea[th] of Donald Bayn, alias M'evan Vanifrank, who was Execute in / the Grass [Mar]ket of Edinburgh, on Wednesday the 9th Day of January 1723. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer 1723-1723 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 07/16/2014 34261

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T189476 TOnald Bayn her nane dear Shoy, / Maks a' Folk sad save Robin Roy Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 36 THE / Highland Man's Lament, / For the Dea[th] of Donald Bayn, alias M'evan Vanifrank, who was Execute in / the Grass [Mar]ket of Edinburgh, on Wednesday the 9th Day of January 1723. THE Highland Man's Lament, For the Death of Donald Bayn, alias M'evan Vanifrank, who was Execute in the Grassmarket of Edinburgh, on Wednesday the 9th Day of January 1723. 1723-1723

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol Americas animals/ nature Bible/ biblical figures buildings/ architecture catastrophe children class clothing/ appearance country/ nation crime death economics/ commerce entertainments family Featured folklore gender holidays/ seasons infidelity labor/ craft law London love maritime marriage military/ war monstrosity mythology/ Classical news nobility/ court politics/ government procreation punishment race/ ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious groups royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgar humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 7/16/2014 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America crime death punishment violence Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 7/16/2014 12:35:25 PM XBallad Chow, Jeremy Created XML Version of Ballad 7/16/2014 12:35:25 PM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/16/2014 12:35:25 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/16/2014 12:35:25 PM Transcriptionist Two Webb, Ali Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/16/2014 12:35:25 PM Transcriptionist One Decker, Gabriel D. Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/29/2014 Checker Erik Bell Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/3/2014 Checker Jeremy Chow Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 12/13/2012 Bibliographer Shannon Meyer Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
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TOnald Bayn her nane dear Shoy, Maks a' Folk sad save Robin Roy Who kend him sin he was a Boy, her nane sell Swons, To think he'd hangs like Gilderoy, by Laulan Louns. Ohon, ohon for Land of Refe, Sin Tonald's hang'd for common Theif, Not on kind Gallows at the Crief, indeef no fair, Pra Shentlemen her nane sels Cheif, did a hing there. Teel spread his Net out o're them a, That took stout Tonald's Life awa, And Troun them in the Wel of Spa or Peterhead, Shame fa the feckless Lauthian Law, for now he's dead. By great St. Patrick's Sauls he swears, While either Targe or Trous she wears, The Clans shall fall out by the Ears, without a Cure, For dinny think her nane sel fears, a Shirrif-muir. May Bess at Hame ne're pear te pairn, Hen lay the Egg, or Mage steal Yarn, Or Alaster lift Cows from Nairn, but the Monro's, By weight of her Claemore shall learn, to ken their Foes. And by te Panes of K. Mcduff, Te Frasers shall get sik a cuff, We'l bray them a' as sma as Snuff, bloody-battle, Syne her nane sell will gang and Truff, a' their Cattle. But Robin Roy, she fears ye will, Ne're smell Powder, but stand still, And see her pread Sword hack and kill, mony Hunder. Syne came scouring down the Hill, for the Plunder. Donald and her, for mony a Day, Eat Kebbecks, and drank Huskiebae; And syne took up te Trumps to play, Mcferson's Rant. Wee liv'd as blyth as the Lord Gray, or Laird of Grant. Thron Murray-Land, and Huntly Heth, We chas'd the Gypsies out of Breath, Put them, and Tinklers a' to Death, and spoil'd their Carcks: The Chapmen fand our Highland Wrath, we toom'd their Packs.
Whan Mar her nane sells King did press, Men for to take in Imverness, We lifted the Excise and Cess, gae Swiss their Paiks. The Tutch, so frighted with our Dress, got hearty Straiks. For to meet him, it was nae Mows, He was the warst of Worrie-Cows, Rob Roys Heart fell in the Hows, when he saw him: They parted ay we' bloody Pows, he was so slim. Twenty Thousand Merks in Gold, Robin o're a Grecn Truff told To twa McGrigors that were bold, for to buy Cows. But she Trous Donald, did lay hold upon their Trows. For he fleg'd that McGrigor Crew, Fast frae Tonald's Claws they flew; Tonald and Alaster he slew, ne're Lochkater: Took a' their Gear, and them he threw, in a Water. Pe sure, her nane sell never saw, Te' Man tat valued less te Law, For he gae Folk, cald Coals to blaw, which gard them groan. And when he carried all away. cry'd Pockmohon. Te like of this did ne're befal us, Tonald as stout as William Wallace, Was guarded by, te Southland Fallows, her Heart will plead. For his pare Arse to grace the Gallows, and now he's tead. May her sell ne're trip Athol Hill, Nor never see the Sneizing Mill; Nor trink of Huskiebae a Gill, or wear te Durk; If the Monros she doe not kill, and Fight like Turk. Mccleods, Mctonalds and Mcpanes, And a te M's tat kend him anes, Hing toun te Head, and mak great Mains, we' Cronohs fair, I or Tonald's can Pelow te Stanes, we ill cou[l]d spare. Te Clans will make te firy fery, Frae Fokoburss to Inverary, And frae Glensheils doun to Glengary, for Tonald Bayn, I fear te Plots will a' miscarry, sin Tonald's gane.
FINIS.