human
What shall I say, my love, Archibald, This day for you and me? I will be laid in cauld irons, And ye'll be hanged on tree.
gpt
What aileth my love Clementina? What gars you mourn sae sair?
human
You know, said she,
gpt
I'm with child to thee, These eight lang months and mair.
human
Will ye gae to my mother's bower, 25 Stands on yon stately green? Or will ye gae to the gude greenwood, Where ye will not be seen?
gpt
I winna gang to your mother's bower, Stands on yon stately green; 30 But I will on to gude greenwood, For I will not be seen.