No: 89; variant: 89B
- THE Eastmure king, and the Westmure king,
And the king of Onorie,
They have all courted a pretty maid,
And guess wha she micht be.
- The Eastmure king courted her for gold,
And the Westmure king for fee,
The king of Onore for womanheid,
And for her fair beautie.
- The Eastmure king swore a solemn oath,
He would keep it till May,
That he would murder the king of Onore,
Upon his wedding day.
- When bells was rung, and psalms was sung,
And all men boune for sleep,
Up and started the Eastmure king
At the king of Onore’s head.
- He has drawn the curtains by–
Their sheets was made of dorn–
And he has murdered the king of Onore,
As innocent as he was born.
- This maid she awak’d in the middle of the night,
Was in a drowsy dream;
She found her bride’s-bed swim with blood,
Bot and her good lord slain.
- ‘What will the court and council say
What will they say to me?
What will the court and council say
But this night I’ve murderd thee?’
- Out and speaks the Eastmure king:
‘Hold your tongue, my pretty may,
And come along with me, my dear,
And that court ye’ll never see.’
- He mounted her on a milk-white steed,
Himself upon a gray;
She turnd her back against the court,
And weeping rode away.
- ‘Now if you be with child,’ he says,
‘As I trew well you be,
If it be of a lassie-bairn,
I’ll give her nurses three.
- ‘If it be a lassie-bairn,
If you please she’ll get five;
But if it be a bonnie boy,
I will not let him live.’
- Word is to the city gone,
And word is to the town,
And word is to the city gone,
She’s delivered of a son.
- But a poor woman in the town
In the same case does lye,
Wha gived to her her woman-child,
Took awa her bonnie boy.
- At kirk or market, whereer they met,
They never durst avow,
But ‘Thou be kind to my boy,’ she says,
‘I’ll be kind to your bonnie dow.’
- This boy was sixteen years of age,
But he was nae seventeen,
When he is to the garden gone,
To slay that Eastmure king.
- ‘Be aware, be aware, thou Eastmure king,
Be aware this day of me;
For I do swear and do declare
Thy botcher I will be.’
- ‘What aileth thee, my bonnie boy?
What aileth thee at me?
I’m sure I never did thee wrang;
Thy face I neer did see.’
- ‘Thou murdered my father dear,
When scarse conceived was I;
Thou murdered my father dear,
When scarse conceived was me:’
So then he slew that Eastmure king,
Beneath that garden tree.