4. 'My Englishman I'll neer forsake, Altho you burn me at your stake. For, etc. 5. 'O where will I get a pretty little boy, That will bring tidings to my joy?' For, etc. 6. 'O here am I, a pretty little boy, And I'll carry tidings to thy joy.' For, etc. 7. 'O take to him this right-hand glove, Tell him to seek another love.' For, etc. _8 is wanting._ 9. 'O bring to him this gay gold ring, And bid him come to my burning.' For, etc. 10. Her father he ca'd up the stake, Her brother he the fire did make. And bonnie Susie Cleland is burnt at Dundee #c.# _1-4 are wanting._ 5. 'Where will I get a bonny boy, Oh my love and oh my joy Where will I get a bonny boy, That dearly loves me Where will I get a bonny boy, Will carry tidings to my joy?' Bonnie Susie Cleland was burned at Dundee 6. 'Here am I, a little boy, That dearly loves thee Will carry tidings to thy joy.' 7. 'Carry my love this glove, Who dearly loves me Bid him seek another love. 8. 'Carry my love this knife, That dearly loves me Bid him seek another wife. 9. 'Carry my love this ring, That dearly loves me Bid him come to my burning. _10 is wanting._ [87] The genuineness of #H#, Buchan's version, may be doubted both on general and on particular grounds, and both because of its departures from the common story and because of its repeating some peculiarities of the Jamieson-Brown copy, #A#. If #H# was compiled, as I think it was, largely from #A#, the person that did the work may have seen the manuscript, which is not at all improbable; for the _English blude_ of #H# 13 is found in the MS., #A# 16, and not in the copy printed by Jamieson, and so with the _thistle_ of #H# 15, #A# 17. Buchan, or Buchan's foreman, is entitled to copyright for the invention, in #H# 17, of Maisry's carrying peats in her petticoat, "her ainsell for to burn;" also for English James, that little prince, 10^3, Adam's high tower, 20^3, thro Linkum and thro Lin, 37^4. [88] Like the Clerk of Oxenford's two sons, and Sweet William, Motherwell, Minstrelsy, p. 307. [89] There is no word of quailing except in #G#, and in #G# she blesses her lover most touchingly, with almost her last words. She turned her head on her left shoulder, Saw her girdle hang on the tree: 'O God bless them that gave me that! They'll never give more to me.'