"Stay you with your maidens here, In number fair they are but three; 370 Tom Pots and I will go behind yonder wall, That one of us two be proved to dye." But when they came behind the wall, The one came not the other nigh; For the Lord Phenix had made a vow, 375 That with Tom Pots he would never fight. "O give me this choice," Lord Phenix said, "To prove whether true or false she be, And I will go to the lady fair, And tell her Tom Pots slain is he." 380 When he came from behind the wall, With his face all bloody as it might be, "O lady sweet, thou art my own, For Tom Pots slain is he. "Now have I slain him, Tommy Pots, 385 And given him deaths wounds two or three; O lady sweet, thou art my own; Of all loves, wilt thou live with me?" "If thou hast slain him, Tommy Pots, And given him deaths wounds two or three, 390 I'le sell the state of my fathers lands, But hanged shall Lord Phenix be." With that the lady fell in a swound, For a grieved woman, God wot, was she; Lord Phenix he was ready then, 395 To take her up so hastily. "O lady sweet, stand thou on thy feet, Tom Pots alive this day may be; I'le send for thy father, Lord Arundel, 400 And he and I the wedding will see. "I'le send for thy father, Lord Arundel, And he and I the wedding will see; If he will not maintain you well, Both lands and livings you'st have of me." "I'le see this wedding," Lord Arundel said, 405 "Of my daughters luck that is so fair; Seeing the matter will be no better, Of all my lands Tom Pots shall be the heir." With that the lady began for to smile, For a glad woman, God wot, was she; 410 "Now all my maids," the lady said, "Example you may take by me. "But all the ladies of Scotland fair, And lasses of England that well would prove, Neither marry for gold nor goods, 415 Nor marry for nothing but only love. "For I had a lover true of my own, A serving-man of low degree; Now from Tom Pots I'le change his name, For the young Lord Arundel he shall be." 420 v. 270, me tell. 329, _i. e._ he made use of a charm for that purpose. THE MERCHANT'S DAUGHTER OF BRISTOW. From Collier's _Book of Roxburghe Ballads_, p. 104.