6 'An asking, an asking, you heathen knight;
An asking will you grant to me?
Will you give me a scread of silk,
For to row your young son wi?'
7 He took the horse-sheet in his hand,
The tears came twinkling down:
'Lady Margaret May, will ye ga now?'
'O ye heathen knight, not yet for you.'
8 'I'll wash my young son with the milk,
I will dry my young son with the silk;
For hearts will break, and bands will bow;
So dear will I love my lady now!'
B
Buchan's MSS, I, 97; Motherwell's MS., p. 665.
1 Lady Margaret sat in her bower-door,
Sewing at her silken seem,
When by it came Prince Heathen then,
An gae to her a gay gold ring.
2 He turnd about, an gied a bow;
She said, Begone, I love na you;
When he sware by his yellow hair
That he woud gar her greet fu sair.
3 But she sware by her milk-white skin
Prince Heathen shoud gar her greet nane:
'O bonny may, winna ye greet now?'
'Ye heathenish dog, nae yet for you.'
4 He's taen her in his arms twa,
Laid her between him an the wa,
An ere he let her free again,
Her maidenhead frae her he's taen.
'O bonny may, winna ye greet now?'
'Ye heathenish dog, nae yet for you.'
5 'I killd your father in his bed,
And your gay mother by his side,
And your seven brothers, ane by ane,
And they were seven pretty men.
O bonny may, winna ye greet now?'
'Ye heathenish dog, nae yet for you.'