“Corvus”
became “corp” in Old French, and survived as “corbie”
in early English, as in this fine old ballad, “The Twa Corbies,”
which takes an ironic look at love.
As I was walking
all alane,
I heard twa corbies making a mane;
The tane unto the t’other say,
‘Where sall we gang and dine to-day?’
‘In behint yon auld fail dyke,
I wot there lies a new slain knight;
And naebody kens that he lies there,
But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair.
‘His hound is to the hunting gane,
His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame,
His lady’s ta’en another mate,
So we may mak our dinner sweet.
‘Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,
And I'll pike out his bonny blue een;
Wi ae lock o his gowden hair
We'll theek our nest when it grows bare.
‘Mony a one for him makes mane,
But nane sall ken where he is gane;
O’er his white banes, when they are bare,
The wind sall blaw for evermair.’
Why ironic? The
key detail is that no one knows where the slain knight lies but “His
hawk, his hound, and lady fair.”
And where is his lady now?
(Gloss: fail / turf;
hause / neck; theek / thatch)
–
the editors
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