XLIII
Then out it spake White Lilly
And fell down on her knee:
‘O pardon us, my gracious liege,
An’ our story I’ll tell to thee.
XLIV
‘Our father was a wealthy lord,
That wonn’d in Barnèsdale;
But we had a wicked step-mother,
That wrought us mickle bale[400].
XLV
‘Yet she had twa as fu’ fair sons
As ever the sun did see;
An’ the tane o’ them lo’ed my sister dear,
An’ the tother said he lo’ed me.’
XLVI
Then out and spak’ him Bold Arthur,
As by the King he stood,
‘Now, this should be my White Lilly,
An’ that should be Rose the Red!’
XLVII
Then in it came him Brown Robin
Frae hunting o’ the deer,
But whan he saw the King was there,
He started back for fear.