The Deceived Girl

The Deceived Girl

As she walked past the jailhouse door,
She spied a man with head hung low,
And all because of bolts and bars,
His homeland he would never know.

‘I am a prisoner far from home,
But if you’ll only steal the key,
I’ll take you were the grass grows green,
And make of you a great lady.’

‘I cannot go, I will not go,
And be your great lady,
For you have got a Scotland wife,
And you’ve got babies three.’


She’s done to her father’s stable,
She’s done to her mother’s till,
She’s got the jailhouse key so large,
And she’s galloped o’er the hill.

And as they galloped o’er the plain,
It was “my dearling dear,”
But as they came to Scotland,
Well changed was this cheer.

‘Oh pity, pity, pity, please,
As I did pity thee,
Or fling me from your castle’s walls
And break my slim body.’

‘But how can I have pity
When you are just a whore?
Now get you back to England
Where I’ll see you no more!’

‘Oh false and faithless knight,’ said she,
‘I’ll to my father’s door,
And he will prove to Scotland
That I have never been whore.’

Her mother, who was truly queen,
She gently then did smile:
‘You’re not the first, nor only one,
The Scotsmen did beguile.’

Come all ye maidens, young and old,
Pray come, be warned of me –
Scots were never, never true.
And Scots will never be.

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