Willie o Winsbury (Child 100C)

The king has been long seven years away,
Long seven years away frae hame;
Our king has been long seven years away,
A hunting oer in Spain.

'What aileth thee, my ae daughter,
Thou lookst so pale and wan?
Hast thou had any sore sickness,
Or hast thou loved man?'

'I have not had any sore sickness,
To make me look sae wan;
But it is for your own majestie,
You staid sae lang in Spain.'

'Cast aff, cast aff thy silken gown,
And lay it on yon stane,
And I'll tell to thee if with child you be,
Or if ye be with nane.'

She's casten aff her costly gown,
That's made o the silk sae fine;
Her stays were sae strait she could na loot,
And her fair colour was wan.

'Oh is it to any mighty man?
Or any lord of fame?
Or is it to the rank robbers
That I sent out o Spain?'

'It is no to the rank robbers
That you sent out o Spain;
But it is to Thomas of Winsbury,
For I dought na lie my lane.'

'If it be to Lord Thomas,' he says,
'It's hanged shall he be:'
'If you hang Thomas of Winsbury,
You'll get na mair gude o me.'

The king's called up his merry men all,
By one, by two, and three;
Lord Thomas should hae been the foremost man,
But the hindmost man was he.

'No wonder, no wonder,' the king he said,
'My daughter loved thee;
For wert thou a woman, as thou art a man,
My bedfellow thou shouldst be.

'O will you marry my daughter dear,
By the faith of thy right hand?
And thou shalt reign, when I am dead,
The king over my whole land.'

'I will marry your daughter dear,
With my heart, yea and my hand;
But it never shall be that Lord Winsbury
Shall rule oer fair Scotland.'

He's mounted her on a milk-white steed,
Himself on a dapple-grey,
And made her a lady of as much land
She could ride in a whole summer day.