The king had been a prisoner And a prisoner long in Spain And Willie of the Winsbury Has lain long with his daughter at hame What ails ye, what ails ye, my daughter Janet Why you look so pale and wan? Oh, have you had any sore sickness Or yet been sleeping with 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 so long in Spain Cast off, cast off your berry-brown gown You stand naked upon the stane That I may ken ye by your shape Whether you be a maiden or none And she's cast off her berry-brown gown She stood naked upon the stone Her apron was low and her haunches were round Her face was pale and wan Oh, was it with a lord or a duke or a knight Or a man of birth and fame? Or was it with one of me serving men That's lately come out of Spain? No, it wasn't with a lord, nor a duke, nor a knight Or a man of birth and fame But it was with Willie of Winsbury I could bide no longer alone And the king he has called on his merry men all By thirty and by three Says: Fetch me this Willie of Winsbury For hanged he shall be But when he came the king before He was clad all in the red silk His hair was like the strands of gold His skin was as white as the milk And it is no wonder: Said the king That my daughter's love you did win If I was a woman, as I am a man My bedfellow you would have been And will you marry my daughter Janet By the truth of your right hand? Oh, will you marry my daughter Janet? I'll make you the lord of my land Yes, I will marry your daughter Janet By the truth of my right hand Yes, I will marry your daughter Janet But I'll not be the lord of your land And he's mounted her on a milk-white steed And himself on a dapple grey He has made her the lady of as much land As she'll ride in a long summer's day