28 And he pricked itt on his swords poynt,
Went singing there beside,
And he rode till he came to that ladye ffaire,
Wheras this ladye lyed.
29 And sayes, Dost thou know Child Maurice head,
If that thou dost itt see?
And lapp itt soft, and kisse itt offt,
Ffor thou louedst him better than mee.'
30 But when shee looked on Child Maurice head,
Shee neuer spake words but three:
'I neuer beare no child but one,
And you haue slaine him trulye.'
31 Sayes, Wicked be my merrymen all,
I gaue meate, drinke, and clothe!
But cold they not haue holden me
When I was in all that wrath!
32 'Ffor I haue slaine one of the curteousest knights
That euer bestrode a steed,
Soe haue I done one [of] the fairest ladyes
That euer ware womans weede!'
B
Motherwell's MS., p. 255; Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 282. From the singing of Widow McCormick, Paisley, January 19, 1825. Learned by her of an old woman in Dumbarton: Motherwell's Note Book, fol. 4.
1 Child Noryce is a clever young man,
He wavers wi the wind;
His horse was silver-shod before,
With the beaten gold behind.
2 He called to his little man John,
Saying, You don't see what I see;
For O yonder I see the very first woman
That ever loved me.
3 'Here is a glove, a glove,' he said,
'Lined with the silver grey;
You may tell her to come to the merry green-wood,
To speak to Child Nory.