We are three brethren out of Spain,

a
We are three brethren out of Spain,
Come to court your daughter Jane.

b
My daughter Jane she is too young,
She has no skill in the mattering tongue.

c
Be she young, or be she old,
It's for her gold she must be sold;
So fare thee well, my lady gay,
I must turn another way.

d
Turn back, turn back, thou Spanish knight
And rub your spurs till they be bright,

e
My spurs are bright and richly wrought,
And in this town they were not bought;
Nor in this town will they be sold,
Neither for silver nor for gold,
So fare thee well, my lady gay,
For I must turn another way.

f
Turn back, turn back, thou scornful knight,
And take the fairest in thy sight.

g
The fairest maid that I can see
Is pretty Nancy--come to me.

h
Here comes my daughter safe and sound,
Every pocket with a thousand pound;
Every finger with a gay gold ring;
Please to take my daughter in.