Willie o Winesberry

No: 100; variant: 100B

  1. ‘WHAT aileth ye, my dochter Dysmill, Ye look sae pale and wan? Hae ye had ony sair sickness, Or ill luve wi a man?
  2. ‘Cast aff, cast aff your bony brown goun, And lay’t down on the stane, And I sall tell ye ay or no Ye hae layn wi a man.’
  3. She has taen aff her bony brown gown, She has laid it on the stane; Her waist was big, her side was round, Her fair colour was gane.
  4. ‘Now is it to a man of micht, Or to a man of mean? Or is it to the ranke robber That robs upon the main?’
  5. ‘O it’s nor to a man of micht, Nor to a man of mean; But it’s to Willie Winchberrie, That came frae France and Spain.’
  6. The king he’s turnd him round about, An angry man was he: ‘Gar bring to me your fals leman, Wha sall high hanged be.’
  7. Then Dysmill turnd her round about, The tear blinded her ee: ‘Gin ye begin to hang, father, Ye maun begin wi mee.’
  8. When Willie he cam to the king, His coat was o the silk; His hair was like the thread o gowd, His skin white as the milk.
  9. ‘Ne wonder, ne wonder,’ quoth the king, ‘My dochter shoud like ye; Gin ye were a woman, as ye’re a man, My bedfellow ye sould be.
  10. ‘Now will ye marry my dochter Dysmill, By the truth o your right hand? Now will ye marry my dochter Dysmill, And be a lord o the land?’