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The Lord forbid, the maide replyde,
That you fhold waxe fo wode!

But for all that fhee could do or faye,
'He wold not be withstood.

Sith you have had your will of mee,
And put me to open shame,
Now, if you are a courteous knighte,
Tell me what is your name?

Some do call mee Jacke, fweet heart,
And fome do call mee Jille;

But when I come to the kings faire courte
They call me Wilfulle Wille.

He fett his foot into the stirrup,
And awaye then he did ride;
She tuckt her girdle about her middle
And ranne close by his fide..

But when she came to the brode water,
She fett her breft and swamme,

And when she was got out againe,
She tooke to her heels and ranne.

He never was the courteous knighte, To faye, faire maide, will you ride? Nor she was never fo loving a maide To faye, fir knighte abide.

When the came to the kings faire courte,

She knocked at the ring

So readye was the king himself

To let this faire maide in.

Now Chrift you fave, my gracious liege,
Now Chrift you fave and fee,

You have a knighte within your courte
This daye hath robbed mee.

What hath he robbed thee of, fweet heart?

Of purple or of pall?

Or hath he took thy gaye gold ring
From off thy finger small?

He hath not robbed mee, my liege,
Of purple nor of pall:

But he hath gotten my maiden head,
Which grieves mee worft of all.

Now if he be a batchelor,

His bodye Ile give to thee;
But if he be a married man,
High hanged hee fhall bee.

He called downe his merrye men all,
By one, by two, by three;
Sir William ufed to bee the firft,

But nowe the laft came hee.

He brought her downe full fortye pounde, Tyed up withinne a glove,

Faire maid, Ile give the fame to thee,

And feeke thee another love.

O Ile have none of your gold, fhe fadye,
Nor Ile have none of your fee,
But your faire bodye I must have
The king hath granted mec.

Sir William ranne and fetchd her then
Five hundred pound in golde,
Saying, faire maide, take this to thee,
Thy fault will never be tolde.

Tis not the gold that fhall mee tempt,
Thefe words then anfwered fhee,.
But your own bodye I must have,
The king hath granted mee..

Would I had dranke the water cleare,
When I did drinke the wine,

Rather than any fhepherds brat
Shold bee a ladye of mine!

Would I had drank the puddle foule,

When I did drink the ale,

Rather than ever a fhepherds brat

Shold tell me fuch a tale!

A fhepherds brat even as I was,

You mote have let me bee,

I never had come to the kings faire courte,
To crave any love of thee.

He fett her on a milk-white fleede,
And himself upon a graye;
He hung a bugle about his necke,
And foe they rode awaye.

But when they came unto the place,
Where marriage-rites were done,
She proved herself a dukes daughter
And he but a fquires fonne.

Now marrye me, or not, fir knight,
Your pleasure fhall be free:

If you make me ladye of one good towne,
Ile make you lord of three.

Ah! curfed bee the gold, he fayd,
If thou hadst not been trewe,

I fhold have forfaken my fweet love,
And have changed her for a newe..

And now their hearts being linked fast,
They joyned hand in hande:

Thus he had both purfe, and perfon too,
And all at his commande.

EDOM O GORDON,

A SCOTTISH BALLAD

T fell about the Martinmas,

IT

Quhen the wind blew schril and cauld,

Said Edom o' Gordon to his men,

We maun draw to a hauld.

And quhat a hauld fall we draw to,

My mirry men and me?

We wul gae to the house, o' the Rhodes,
To fee that fair ladie.

The lady ftude on hir castle wa',
Beheld baith, dale and down:
There she was ware of a host of men
Cum ryding towards the toun.

O fee ze nat, my mirry men a'?
O fee ze nat quhat I fee?
Methinks I fee a host of men:
I merveil quha they be.

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