3 'I'm not a hure, mither,' she said,
'Nor ever intend to be;
But I'm wi child to a gentleman,
An he swears he'll marry me.'
4 [It's out then sprung her father dear,
Stood stately on the flure:
'Ye're welcum back, young Marjory,
But ye're sune becum a hure.'
5 'I'm not a hure, father,' she said,
'Nor ever intend to be;
But I'm wi child to a gentleman,
An he swears he will marry me.'
6 It's out then sprung her brother dear,
Stood stately on the flure:
'Ye're welcum back, young Marjory,
But ye're sune becum a hure.'
7 'I'm not a hure, brother,' she said,
'Nor ever intend to be;
But I'm wi child to a gentleman,
An he swears he will marry me.'
8 It's out then sprung her sister dear,
Stood stately on the flure:
'Ye're welcum back, young Marjory,
But ye're sune becum a hure.'
9 'I'm not a hure, sister,' she said,
'Nor ever intend to be;]
Ye're but a young woman, sister,
An ye shuld speak sparinlie.'
10 Her father's to the grene-wude gaen,
Her brither's to the brume;
An her mither sits in her gowden chair,
To see her dochter burn.
* * * * *
11 . . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
The sister she culd do naething,
And she sat down to greet.