9 They hae taen out this bonnie boy’s heart, Put it in a cup o gold; ‘Take that to Lady Daisy,’ he said, ‘For she’s impudent and bold;’ And she washd it with the tears that ran from her eye Into the cup of gold. 10 ‘Now fare ye weel, my father the king! You hae taen my earthly joy; Since he’s died for me, I’ll die for him, My bonnie kitchen-boy.’ 11 ‘O where is all my merry, merry men, That I pay meat and wage, That they could not withold my cruel hand, When I was mad with rage? 12 ‘I think nae wonder, Lady Daisy,’ he said, ‘That he brought your body to shame; For there never was man of woman born Sae fair as him that is slain.’ B From “The Old Lady’s Collection,” formerly in the possession of Sir Walter Scott, No 41. 1 Ther was a king, an a worthy king, [An a king] of birth an fame; He had an only dear daughter, An Dayesie was her name. 2 Ther was a boy about the house, Bold Roben was his name; He would not stay out of Dayese’s bour, Till he brought her body [to] shame. 3 When bells was rung,. .. . An a’ man bon to rest, The king went up to Lady Dayese’s bour, He was an unwelcom gast. 4 ‘O Lady Dayesë, dear, d[ea]r Dayisie, What gars ye gae sae round? We yer tua sides high an yer bellie bige, Fra yer face the couller is gane.’ 5 ‘O have ye loved? or have ye lang-sought? Or die ye goo we barn?’ ‘It’s all for you, fair father, That ye stayed so long in Spain.’ 6 ‘It’s aff ye take yer berry-broun goon, An ye lay it on a ston, An I will tell you in a very short time If ye loued any man or no[n].’ 7 It’s aff she has tane her berry-broun goon, An laid it on a ston; We her tua sides high, her belley turned bigg, Fra her face the couller was gane. 8 ‘O is it to lord? or is to lard? Or till a man of mean? Or is it to Bold Roben, the kittchen-boy? Nou, Dayisie, dinne lea[n].’ 9 ‘It’s no to leard, nor [to] lord, Nor to a man of mean, But it’s to Bold Robien, our kittchen-boy; Fatt neads me for to lea[n]?’ 10 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . It’s the morn befor I eat or drink His heart-blude I sall see.’ 11 He’s tean Bold Robien by the hand Lead him across the green; His hear was leak the very threeds of goud, His face shone leak the moon. 12 He’s tane out this bonny boy’s hear[t] Into a cupe of gold, Had it to Lady Dayese’s bour, Says, No[u], Dayesë, behold! 13 ‘O welcom to me my heart’s delight! Nou welcom to me my joy! Ye have dayed for me, an I’ll day for ye, Tho ye be but the kittchen-boy.’