She was as sorry as any woman;
She threw a napkin out-oure her face,
Says, Gang kiss your whore at London.
18
‘Ye’ll mount an go, my gallan grooms a’,
Ye’ll mount and back again to London;
Had I known this to be the answer my Meggy’s gein me,
I had stayed some longer at London.’
19
‘Go, Jack, my livery boy,’ she says,