The king has been a poor prisoner A prisoner long in Spain, And Willy o' the Winsbury Has lain long with his daughter at home.
“What troubles you, my daughter dear? You look so pale and wan? Oh, have you had any sore sickness Or yet been sleeping with a man?”
“I have not had any sore sickness Nor yet been sleeping wi' a man. It is for you, my father dear, For biding so long in Spain.”
“Cast off, cast off your berry-brown gown, Stand naked upon the stane, That I may know by your shape Whether you be a maiden or none.”
So she's cast off her berry-brown gown, Stood naked upon the stone. Her haunches were round was her apron was short Her cheeks, they were pale and wan.
“Oh, is he a lord or a squire or a knight, Or a man of birth or fame? Or is he one of my serving men That's lately come out of Spain?”
“He is not a lord, nor a squire, nor a knight, Nor a man of birth and fame. But he is Willy of Winsbury I could bide no longer alone.”
The king has sent for his merry men all, His merry men thirty and three, Says, “Bring me Willy of Winsbury, For hanged he shall be!”
But when he came the King before, He was clad in the red silk. His hair was like the strands of gold, His skin was as white as milk.
“It is no wonder,” the King, he did say, “My daughter's love you did win. If I was a woman, as I am a man, My bedfellow you would have been.”
“And will you we my daughter,” he said, “By the truth of your right hand? And will you marry my daughter Janet? And be a lord of the land?”
“Oh, I will wed your daughter,” he said But she's not a match for me For every pound that she counts down, I will count down thirty-three.”
He's mounted her on a milk-white steed And himself on a dapple grey. And he's made her the lady of as much land As she could ride in a long summer's day.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
