Henry's Songbook

The King has been a poor prisoner, a prisoner lang in Spain
And Willie o' the Winsbury has lain lang wi' his daughter at e'en

What ails thee now my daughter Janet, you look so pale and wan
Oh hae ye got any sair sickness or yet been sleeping wi' a man

Oh I hae not got any sair sickness nor yet been sleeping wi' a man
But it is for you my father dear, sae lang been o'er in Spain

Tak' off tak' off your berry brown gown, stand naked on the stane
That I may ken ye by yer shape whether ye be a maiden or nane

So she's ta'en off her berry brown gown, stood naked on the stane
And her back it was bent and her belly was slack and her apron strings wouldna pen

Oh was it a lord or a duke or a knight or a man of wealth or fame
Or was it one of my serving men wha could nae longer lie alane

Oh it was not a lord or a duke or a knight or a man of wealth or fame
But it was wee Willie o' the Winsbury I could nae langer lie my lane

And if it be Willie o' the Winsbury as weel I trust it be
Then before that I have meat or drink then it's high hanged he shall be

And they sought him up and they sought him doon and they sought him sair and lang
Until there in the shade of an elder tree it's Willie o' the Winsbury they found

Rise up noo, Willie o' the Winsbury, they cried, Rise up and haste away
For the King has sworn by his right hand that it is your dyin' day

Oh wha hae I robbed or wha hae I slain or wha hae I done any wrang
That I should fear to face the King and my time shall no' be lang

And when he came the King before he was dressed all in the silk
His cheeks they were like the berries red and his skin was as white as milk

And there is nae wonder, said the King, That my daughter's love ye hae won
For had I been a woman as I am a man my bedfellow you would hae been

And will you marry my daughter Janet by the truth of your right hand
Or will you marry my daughter Janet and I'll mak' ye a laird of the land

Oh I will marry your daughter Janet by the truth of my right hand
And I will marry your daughter Janet but tae hell wi' all your land

And he's mounted her on a milk white steed and himself on a dapple grey
And he's made her a lady of as much land as she rides on a lang summer's day

(as sung by Dick Gaughan)

 [1983:] Der König gibt [...] sein Einverständnis zur Heirat, nachdem er Willie an seiner roten seidenen Tracht als Dichter erkannt hat. In jenen Zeiten waren Dichter und Barden ausschließlich dem König verpflichtet und genossen großes Ansehen. Ein Hinweis auf das vergleichsweise hohe Alter der Geschichte ist die 'Jungfräulichkeitsprobe', der der König seine Tochter unterzieht. Die magische Kraft, die den Steinen zugeschrieben wird, deutet den vorchristlichen Ursprung dieses Rituals an. (Walton 100)

See also rec.music.celtic, 12 Aug
uk.music.folk, 20 Nov