XI
‘Your son is at our king’s court,
Serving for meat an’ fee,
An’ your daughter’s at our queen’s court,
The queen’s maiden to be.’—
XII
‘Ye lee, ye lee, ye ill woman,
Sae loud as I hear ye lee;
My son’s the laily worm,
That lies at the fit o’ the tree,
And my daughter, Lady Masery,
Is the machrel of the sea!’
XIII
She has tane a siller wan’,
An’ gi’en him strokès three,
And he’s started up the bravest knight
That ever your eyes did see.
XIV
She has ta’en a small horn,
An’ loud an’ shrill blew she,
An’ a’ the fish came her untill
But the machrel of the sea:
‘Ye shapeit me ance an unseemly shape,
An’ ye’s never mare shape me.’
XV
He has sent to the wood
For whins and for hawthorn,
An’ he has ta’en that gay lady,
An’ there he did her burn.