31 'Bid her do weel to my young son,
And gie him nurses three;
For gin he live to be a man,
King James will gar him die.'
32 He calld upon the headsman, then,
A purse o gowd him gae;
Says, Do your office, headsman, boy,
And mak nae mair delay.
33 O head me soon, O head me clean,
And pit me out o pine;
For it is by the king's command;
Gang head me till his min.
34 Tho by him I'm condemnd to die,
I'm lieve to his ain kin;
And for the truth, I'll plainly tell,
I am his sister's son.
35 'Gin ye're my sister's son,' he said,
'It is unkent to me;'
'O mindna ye on your sister Bess,
That lives in the French countrie?'
36 'Gin Bess then be your mither dear,
As I trust well she be,
Gae hame, gae hame, Young Waters,
Ye'se neer be slain by me.'
37 But he lay by his napkin fine,
Was saft as ony silk,
And on the block he laid his neck,
Was whiter than the milk.
38 Says, Strike the blow, ye headsman, boy,
And that right speedilie;
It's never be said, Here gaes a knight
Was ance condemnd to die.
39 The head was taen frae Young Waters,
And mony tears for him shed;
But mair did mourn for fair Margaret,
As raving she lyes mad.