|Share page||Visit Us On FB|
" 0 then it was your lither foot-page,
He hath beguiled mee : " Then shee pulled forth a little pen-kniffe,
That hanged by her knee. so
Sayes, " there shall never noe churles blood
Within my bodye spring : No churles blood shall e'er defile
The daughter of a kinge."
Home then went Glasgerion, sa
And woe, good lord! was hee : Sayes, " come thou hither, Jacke my boy,
Come hither unto mee.
" If I had killed a man to-night, , Jack, I would tell it thee : so
But if I have not killed a man to-night, Jacke, thou hast killed three."
And he puld out his bright browne sword,
And dryed it on his sleeve, And he smote off that lither ladds head, as
Who did his ladye grieve.
He sett the swords poynt till his brest,
The pummil untill a stone : Throw the falsenesse of that lither ladd,
These three lives werne all gone. 100
77, MS. litle.