25 'Come oot, come oot, my bourswoman,
Come oot, lat me win in;
For as I did the deed mysell,
Sae man I drie the pine.'
D
Motherwell's MS., p. 377; from Agnes Lyle, Kilbarchan.
1 Earl Richard has a hunting gone,
As fast as he can ride;
He's a hunting-horn about his neck,
And a broadsword by his side.
2 'Licht down, licht down, Earl Richard,' she says,
'O licht down and come in,
And thou'll get cheer and charcoal clear,
And torches for to burn.'
3 'I winna licht, I canna licht,
I winna licht at all;
A fairer lady then ten of thee
Meets me at Richard's Wall.'
4 He louted owre his saddle-bow,
And for to kiss her sweet,
But little thocht o that penknife
Wherewith she wound him deep.
5 'Why wounds thou me so deep, lady?
Why stabs thou me so sore?
There's not a lord like Earl Richard
Could love false woman more.'
6 She called upon her waiting-maid,
Long before it was day:
'I have a dead man in my bower,
I wish he were away.'
7 'Keep ye your bower, my lily-flower.
Keep it free of all men's blood;'
'Oh I will keep it een as weel
As you or any maid.