paroles de chanson Willy o' Winsbury - Deborah Stokol

The king has been a prisoner
In a prison long in Spain
And Willy of the Winsbury
Has lain long with the king's daughter, Jane

What ails you, what ails you my daughter, Jane?
Why do you look so pale and wan?
It is for you my father, dear
For biding so long in Spain

Cast off cast off your berry-brown gown!
And you stand there upon the stone
That I may know you by your form
If you be a maiden or no

And she cast off her berry berry-brown gown
And she stood there upon the stone
Her apron was low, and her haunches were round
And her face was as white as a ghost

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 my serving men
So lately come out of Spain?

No it wasn't with a lord or a duke or a knight
Or a man of birth and fame
But it was with Willy of Winsbury
I could bide no longer alone

And the king has called all his merry men, all
By thirty and by three
Said Fetch me this Willy of Winsbury
For hangéd he now 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's no wonder said the king, said the king
That my daughter's love you did win
For if I were a woman as I am a man
My bedfellow you would have been

And will you marry my daughter, Jane
By the truth of your right hand?
Oh, will you marry my daughter, Jane
I will make you the lord of my land!

Why, yes! I will marry your daughter, Jane
By the truth of my right hand!
Why, yes I will marry your daughter, Jane
But I won't be the lord of your land!

And he lifted her on a milk-white steed
And himself on a dapple grey
He has made her the lady of as much land
As she can ride on a long summer's day