13
'Nor am I mourning i my tide
That eer I was Gil Brenton's bride:
14
'But I am mourning i my meed
That ever I left my mither gueede.
15
'But, bonny boy, tell to me
What is the customs o your country.'
16
'The customs o't, my dame,' he says,
'Will ill a gentle lady please.
17
'Seven king's daughters has our king wedded,
An seven king's daughters has our king bedded.
18
'But he's cutted the paps frae their breast-bane,
An sent them mourning hame again.
19
'But whan you come to the palace yate,
His mither a golden chair will set.
20
'An be you maid or be you nane,
O sit you there till the day be dane.
21
'An gin you're sure that you are a maid,
Ye may gang safely to his bed.
22
'But gin o that you be na sure,
Then hire some woman o youre bowr.'