English Fairy Tales



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english-fairy-tales

BINNORIE
O
NCE
UPON
A
TIME
there were two king’s daughters lived in a
bower near the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie. And Sir Will-
iam came wooing the eldest and won her love and plighted
troth with glove and with ring. But after a time he looked
upon the youngest, with her cherry cheeks and golden hair,
and his love grew towards her till he cared no longer for the
eldest one. So she hated her sister for taking away Sir William’s
love, and day by day her hate grew upon her, and she plotted
and she planned how to get rid of her.
So one fine morning, fair and clear, she said to her sister,
“Let us go and see our father’s boats come in at the bonny
mill-stream of Binnorie.” So they went there hand in hand.
And when they got to the river’s bank the youngest got upon
a stone to watch for the coming of the boats. And her sister,
coming behind her, caught her round the waist and dashed
her into the rushing mill-stream of Binnorie.
“O sister, sister, reach me your hand!” she cried, as she
floated away, “and you shall have half of all I’ve got or shall
get.”
“No, sister, I’ll reach you no hand of mine, for I am the
heir to all your land. Shame on me if I touch the hand that
has come ‘twixt me and my own heart’s love.”
“O sister, O sister, then reach me your glove!” she cried, as
she floated further away, “and you shall have your William
again.”
“Sink on,” cried the cruel princess, “no hand or glove of
mine you’ll touch. Sweet William will be all mine when you
are sunk beneath the bonny mill-stream of Binnorie.” And
she turned and went home to the king’s castle.
And the princess floated down the mill-stream, sometimes
swimming and sometimes sinking, till she came near the
mill. Now the miller’s daughter was cooking that day, and
needed water for her cooking. And as she went to draw it
from the stream, she saw something floating towards the
mill-dam, and she called out, “Father! father! draw your dam.
There’s something white—a merry maid or a milk-white
swan—coming down the stream.” So the miller hastened to
the dam and stopped the heavy cruel mill-wheels. And then
they took out the princess and laid her on the bank.
Fair and beautiful she looked as she lay there. In her golden


33
Joseph Jacobs
hair were pearls and precious stones; you could not see her
waist for her golden girdle; and the golden fringe of her white
dress came down over her lily feet. But she was drowned,
drowned!
And as she lay there in her beauty a famous harper passed
by the mill-dam of Binnorie, and saw her sweet pale face. And
though he travelled on far away he never forgot that face, and
after many days he came back to the bonny mill-stream of
Binnorie. But then all he could find of her where they had put
her to rest were her bones and her golden hair. So he made a
harp out of her breast-bone and her hair, and travelled on up
the hill from the mill-dam of Binnorie, till he came to the
castle of the king her father.
That night they were all gathered in the castle hall to hear
the great harper—king and queen, their daughter and son,
Sir William and all their Court. And first the harper sang to
his old harp, making them joy and be glad or sorrow and
weep just as he liked. But while he sang he put the harp he
had made that day on a stone in the hall. And presently it
began to sing by itself, low and clear, and the harper stopped
and all were hushed.
And this was what the harp sung:
“O yonder sits my father, the king,
Binnorie, O Binnorie;
And yonder sits my mother, the queen;
By the bonny mill-dams o’ Binnorie,
“And yonder stands my brother Hugh,
Binnorie, O Binnorie;
And by him, my William, false and true;
By the bonny mill-dams o’ Binnorie.”
Then they all wondered, and the harper told them how he
had seen the princess lying drowned on the bank near the
bonny mill-dams o’ Binnorie, and how he had afterwards
made this harp out of her hair and breast-bone. Just then
the harp began singing again, and this was what it sang out
loud and clear:
“And there sits my sister who drownèd me
By the bonny mill-dams o’ Binnorie.”
And the harp snapped and broke, and never sang more.


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English Fairy Tales

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