THE KING'S SON.

“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.”