The king he has been a poor prisoner
prisoner lang in Spain, 
And Willie o the Winsbury
Has lain lang wi his daughter at hame. 

What troubles you, my daughter dear,
You look so pale and wan?
O have ye had any sore sickness,
Or have ye been sleeping wi a man?

I have not had any sore sickness,
Nor yet been sleeping wi a man;
It is for you, my father dear,
For biding sae lang in Spain.

Cast off, cast off your berry-brown gown,
Stand naked upon the stane,
And I may ken ye by yere shape,
Whether ye be a maiden or nаne.

So she’s cast off her berry-brown gown,
Stood naked upon yon stane;
And her haunches were round, her apron was short, ,
Her cheeks they were pale and wan.

Oh is he a duke or a lord or a knight?
Or a man of boath or fame?
Or is he one of my serving men
That’s [bad word] note of Spain?

He is nae a duke nor a lord nor a knight,
Or a man of boath or fame.
But he is Willie of Winsburry
I could lye nae langer my lane.

The king’s sent on his merry men all,
His merry men thirty and three:
Says, bring me Willie of Winsbury,
For hanged he shall be.

But when he came the king before,
He was clad in the red silk,
His hair was like the strands of gold.
His cheeks were as white as milk.

It is nae wonder, sais the king,
That my daughter’s love you did win;
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 [bad word] of your right hand?
And will you marry my daughter Janet
And be a lord of the land?

I will marry your daughter Janet,
By the [bad word] of my right hand;
And I will marry your daughter Janet
But I won't be a lord of the land.

He's mounted her on a milk-white steed 
Himself on a dapple-gray
And he's made her a lady of as much land
As he could ride on a lang summer day.