Motherwell's Manuscript, p. 69. From the recitation of Margaret Bain,
in the parish of Blackford, Perthshire.
| 1 |
'What's become of your hounds, King Henrie, my son?
What's become of your hounds, my pretty little one?'
'They all died on the way; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to the heart, and I fain wald lie down.' |
| 2 |
'What gat ye to your supper, King Henry, my son?
What gat ye to your supper, my pretty little one?'
'I gat fish boiled in broo; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm sick to the heart, and I fain wald lie down.' |
| 3 |
'What like were the fish, King Henry, my son?
What like were the fish, my pretty little one?'
'They were spreckled on the back and white on the belly; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to the heart, and I fain wald lie down.' |
| 4 |
'What leave ye to your father, King Henry, my son?
What leave ye to your father, my pretty little one?'
'The keys of Old Ireland, and all that's therein; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to the heart, and I fain wald lie down.' |
| 5 |
at leave ye to your brother, King Henry, my son?
What leave ye to your brother, my pretty little one?'
'The keys of my coffers and all that's therein; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm sick to the heart, and I fain wald lie down.' |
| 6 |
'What leave ye to your sister, King Henry, my son?
What leave ye to your sister, my pretty little one?'
'The world's wide, she may go beg; mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm sick to the heart, and I fain wald lie down.' |
| 7 |
'What leave ye to your trew-love, King Henry, my son?
What leave ye to your trew-love, my pretty little one?'
'The highest hill to hang her on, for she's poisoned me and my hounds all; mother, make my bed soon,
Oh I'm sick to the heart, and I fain wald lie down.' |
