“Daughter, daughter, marry no man, Though a king's son come to woo, If he be not more than blessing or ban To the secret soul of you.”
“‘ Tis the King's son, indeed, I ween, And he left me even but now, And he shall make me a dazzling queen, With a gold crown on my brow.”
“And are you one that a golden crown, Or the lust of a name can lure? You had better wed with a country clown, And keep your young heart pure.”
“Mother, the King has sworn, and said That his son shall wed but me; And I must gang to the prince's bed, Or a traitor I shall be.”
“Oh, what care you for an old man's wrath? Or what care you for a king? I had rather you fled on an outlaw's path, A rebel, a hunted thing.”
“Mother, it is my father's will, For the King has promised him fair A goodly earldom of hollow and hill, And a coronet to wear.”
“Then woe is worth a father's name, For it names your dourest foe! I had rather you came the child of shame Than to have you fathered so.”
“Mother, I shall have gold enow, Though love be never mine, To buy all else that the world can show Of good and fair and fine.”
“Oh, what care you for a prince's gold, Or the key of a kingdom's till? I had rather see you a harlot bold That sins of her own free will.
“For I have been wife for the stomach's sake, And I know whereof I say; A harlot is sold for a passing slake, But a wife is sold for aye.
“Body and soul for a lifetime sell, And the price of the sale shall be That you shall be harlot and slave as well Until Death set you free.”
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