PR Website - Lady Maisry

FAIR MARJORY'S gaen into the school, Between six and seven, An she's come back richt big wi bairn, Between twalve and eleven.
It's out then sprung her mither dear, Stood stately on the flure: 'Ye're welcum back, young Marjory, But ye're sune becum a hure.'
'I'm not a hure, mither,' she said, 'Nor ever intend to be; But I'm wi child to a gentleman, An he swears he'll marry me.'
[It's out then sprung her father dear, Stood stately on the flure: 'Ye're welcum back, young Marjory, But ye're sune becum a hure.'
'I'm not a hure, father,' she said, 'Nor ever intend to be; But I'm wi child to a gentleman, An he swears he will marry me.'
It's out then sprung her brother dear, Stood stately on the flure: 'Ye're welcum back, young Marjory, But ye're sune becum a hure.'
'I'm not a hure, brother,' she said, 'Nor ever intend to be; But I'm wi child to a gentleman, An he swears he will marry me.'
It's out then sprung her sister dear, Stood stately on the flure: 'Ye're welcum back, young Marjory, But ye're sune becum a hure.'
'I'm not a hure, sister,' she said, 'Nor ever intend to be;] Ye're but a young woman, sister, An ye shuld speak sparinlie.'
Her father's to the grene-wude gaen, Her brither's to the brume; An her mither sits in her gowden chair, To see her dochter burn.

. . . . . . . . . . . The sister she culd do naething, And she sat down to greet.
'Oh whare will I get a bonny boy, That will win hose an shoon, That wull rin to Strawberry Castle for me, And bid my true-love come?'
It's out than spak a bonny boy, That stude richt at her knee: 'It's I wull rin your errand, ladie, Wi the saut tear i my ee.'
It's whan he cam to broken brigg, He bent his bow an swam, An whan he cam whare green grass grew, Set doon his feet an ran.
An whan he cam to Strawberry Castle, He thirled at the pin, An aye sae ready as the porter was To rise and let him in.

'Gae saddle to me the black,' he says, 'Gae saddle to me the broun; Gae saddle to me the swiftest steed That eer set fute on grun.'
It's first he burst the bonny black, An syne the bonny broun, But the dapple-gray rade still away, Till he cam to the toun.
An aye he rade, an aye he rade, An aye away he flew, Till the siller buttons flew off his coat; He took out his horn an blew.
An aye he blew, an aye he blew, He blew baith loud an shrill, An the little life that Marjory had, She heard his horn blaw weel.
'Beik on, beik on, cruel mither,' she said, 'For I value you not a straw; For if ever I heard my love in my life, He's comin here awa.'

When he cam unto the flames He jamp in, butes and a'; He thocht to hae kissd her red rosy lips, But her body broke in twa.

I'll burn for thy sake, Marjory, The toun that thou lies in; An I'll mak the baby fatherless, For I'll throw mysel therein.