The Twa Magicians (Child 44) - Ewan MacColl

The Twa Magicians (Child No. 44) - Sung by Ewan MacColl with Neill MacColl on mandolin and Peggy Seeger on Appalachian dulcimer.
Note by Kevin W.:
This Scottish ballad about a contest between two shape shifters had little circulation in oral tradition. Ewan MacColl's version takes the only known complete text of the ballad, Child's A version from Buchan's "Ballads of the North of Scotland" and sets it to the "Katherine Jaffrey" (Child No. 221) tune used by A. L. Lloyd for his Anglicized rewrite of the ballad which became very popular in the Folk Revival of the 60s.
For contrast, here's A. L. Lloyd's Anglicized rewrite of the ballad which became very popular in the Folk Revival of the 60s: • Video
Liner Notes:
Child's only version of this fine ballad, a Scots one from Aberdeenshire; was "Englished" by A.L. Lloyd in the 1960's and wedded to a Greig-Duncan tune of "Katherine Jaffray" (Child 221). It became, and deservedly so, a very popular item in the repertory of folk-revivalists. France, Poland, Italy, Catalan Spain, Greece, Roumania and Turkey have all yielded sets of the ballad.
Song transcription:
The lady stands at her bower door
As straucht's a willow-wand
The blacksmith stood a little forbye
Wi' his hammer in his haund.
O, weel hae ye dressed, ye lady fair
In a' your robes o' reid.
Before the morn at this same time
I'll gain your maidenheid.
Awa', awe' ye coal-black smith
And wad ye dae me wrong?
To think to gain my maidenheid
That I hae kep' sae lang.
Then she has hauden up her haund
And swore by the Trinity,
Though ye gie me thoosand poonds,
Your leman I'd never be.
And he has hauden up his haund tae
And he swore by the Mass,
I'll tak' ye tae my bed, lady,
For the half o' that and less.
Bide, lady, bide,
And aye he bade her bide,
The rusty smith your Leman shall be
For all your muckle pride
Then she became a turtle-dow
To fly up in the air,
And he became anither dow
And they flew pair and pair.
Bide, lady, bide,
And aye he bade her bide,
The rusty smith your Leman shall be
For all your muckle pride
She's turned hersel' intae an eel
Tae swim intae yon burn,
And he became a speckled trout
To gie the eel her turn,
Bide, lady, bide,
And aye he bade her bide,
The rusty smith your Leman shall be
For all your muckle pride
Then she became a duck, a duck
To paddle in the burn,
And he became a rose-kaimed drake
To tread her at ilka turn.
Bide, lady, bide,
And aye he bade her bide,
The rusty smith your Leman shall be
For all your muckle pride
She's turned hersel' intae a hare
Tae run upon yon hill,
And he became a guid greyhoond
And coursed her at his will,
Bide, lady, bide,
And aye he bade her bide,
The rusty smith your Leman shall be
For all your muckle pride
Then she became a bonnie grey mare
And stood in yonder slack,
And he became the gilt saddle
That lay across her back.
Bide, lady, bide,
And aye he bade her bide,
The rusty smith your Leman shall be
For all your muckle pride
Then she became a hot girdle[*]
And he became a cake;
And a' the ways she turned hersel'
The blacksmith was her make.
Bide, lady, bide,
And aye he bade her bide,
The rusty smith your Leman shall be
For all your muckle pride
She's turned hersel' intae a ship
To sail out ower the flood,
But he's drove a nail intae her tail
And syne that ship she stood.
Bide, lady, bide,
And aye he bade her bide,
The rusty smith your Leman shall be
For all your muckle pride
Then she became a silken plaid
And stretched oat on the bed,
And he became a green blanket
And gained her maidenheid.
Bide, lady, bide,
And aye he bade her bide,
The rusty smith her leman was
For a' her muckle pride.
[*] flat iron plate used for making cakes