| 1 |
There was a knight was wine-drunke,
As he rode on the way,
And there he spide a bonny lasse,
Among the cocks of hay. |
| |
Sing loud, whistle in the winde,
Blow merry, merry,
Up and down in yonder dale,
With hey tro, nonney, nonney. |
| 2 |
This gallant knight unto the lasse
Did present take his way,
But it seemd he had a sliame-face,
He did not court and play. |
| 3 |
When he came to this bonny lasse,
He found she was not coy;
His courtesie she did imbrace,
And did not say him nay. |
| 4 |
'If we should sit us downe here,
Upon the grasse so greene,
Here "s neither sheet nor covering,
To'keep our cloathing cleane. |
| 5 |
'And if we should sit downe,' quoth he,
'Among the cockes of hay,
Then would come forth the king's pinder,
And take our steedes away." |
| 6 |
'I have rings on my fingers,
Made of the purest gold,
That will release our steedes againe
Out of the king's pinfold. |
| 7 |
'Sir knight, if you will goe with me
Into my father's bowers,
There you may sit and talke with me
This three or foure houres.' |
| 8 |
When she came to her father's bowers,
They were moted round about;
Then she slipt in at a wicket,
And left sir knight without. |
| 9 |
'Now I am here, a maide, within,
And you, sir knight, without;
You may lay straw under your feete,
To keepe you from the gout. |
| 10 |
'Henceforth when you doe meet a maide,
A mile out of the towne,
Sir knight, you must not be aff'raid
Of soyling of her gowne. |
| 11 |
'And if you chance to meet a maid
Amongst the cockes of hay,
Sir knight, you must not be affraid
With her to court, and say |
| 12 |
'It is a proverb, many say,
And truth it is in try all,
He that will not when as he may
Shall after have deny-all. |
| 13 |
'And thus, sir knight, now fare you well,
To you I bid adieu;
And you hereafterwards may tell
How I have served you.'
|
R. C.
Printed at London for Thomas Lambert, at the signs of
the Hors-shoo in Smithfield.
Percy's Reliques, III, 238, 1765.
| 1 |
There was a knight was drunk with wine
A riding along the way, sir,
And there he met with a lady fine,
Among the cocks of hay, sir. |
| 2 |
'Shall you and I, O lady faire,
Among the grass lye downe-a?
And I will have a special care
Of rumpling of your gowne-a." |
| 3 |
'Upon the grass there is a dewe,
Will spoil my damaske gowne, sir;
My gown and kirtle they are newe,
And cost me many a crowne, sir.' |
| 4 |
'I have a cloak of scarlet red,
Upon the ground I'll throwe it;
Then, lady faire, come lay thy head;
We'll play, and none shall knowe it." |
| 5 |
'O yonder stands my steed so free,
Among the cocks of hay, sir,
And if the pinner should chance to see,
He'll take my steed away, sir." |
| 6 |
'Upon my finger I have a ring,
It's made of finest gold-a,
And, lady, it thy steed shall hring
Out of the pinner's fold-a.' |
| 7 |
'O go with me to my father's hall;
Fair chambers there are three, sir;
And you shall have the best of all,
And I'll your chamberlain bee, sir.' |
| 8 |
He mounted himself on his steed so tall,
And her on her dapple-grey, sir,
And then they rode to her father's hall,
Fast pricking along the way, sir. |
| 9 |
To her father's hall they arrived strait;
'T was moated round about-a;
She slipped herself within the gate,
And lockt the knight without-a, |
| 10 |
'Here is a silver penny to spend,
And take it for your pain, sir;
And two of my father's men I'll send,
To wait on you back again, sir.' |
| 11 |
He from his scabbard drew his brand,
And whet it upon his sleeve-a,
And 'Cursed,' he said, 'be every man
That will a maid believe-a!' |
| 12 |
She drew a bodkin from her haire,
And whipd it upon her gown-a:
'And curst be every maiden faire
That will with men lye down-a! |
| 13 |
'A tree there is, that lowly grows,
And some do call it rue, sir;
The smallest dunghill cock that crows
Would make a capon of you, sir. |
| 14 |
'A flower there is, that shineth bright,
Some call it marygold-a;
He that wold not when he might,
He shall not when he wold-a.' |
| 15 |
The knight was riding another day,
With cloak and hat and feather;
He met again with that lady gay,
Who was angling in the river. |
| 16 |
'Now, lady faire, I've met with you,
You shall no more escape me;
Remember how not long agoe
You falsely did intrap me.' |
| 17 |
The lady blushed scarlet red,
And trembled at the stranger:
'How shall I guard my maidenhead
From this approaching danger I' |
| 18 |
He from his saddle down did light,
In all his riche attyer,
And cryed, As I am a noble knight,
I do thy charms admyer. |
| 19 |
He took the lady by the hand,
Who seemingly consented,
And would no more disputing stand;
She had a plot invented. |
| 20 |
'Looke yonder, good sir knight, I praye,
Methinks I now discover,
A riding upon his dapple-grey,
My former constant lover.' |
| 21 |
On tip-toe peering stood the knight,
Fast by the river brink-a;
The lady pusht with all her might:
'Sir knight, now swim or sink-a!' |
| 22 |
Oer head and ears he plunged in;
The bottom faire he sounded;
Then rising up he cried amain,
Help, helpe, or else I'm drowned! |
| 23 |
'Now fare you well, sir knight, adieu I
You see what comes of fooling;
That is the fittest place for you;
Your courage wanted cooling.' |
| 24 |
Ere many days, in her father's park,
Just at the close of eve-a,
Again she met with her angry sparke,
Which made this lady grieve-a. |
| 25 |
'False lady, here thou'rt in my powre,
And no one now can hear thee;
And thou shalt sorely rue the hour
That eer thou dar'dst to jeer me.' |
| 26 |
'I pray, sir knight, be not so warm
With a young silly maid-a;
I vow and swear I thought no harm;
'T was a gentle jest I playd-a.' |
| 27 |
'A gentle jest in soothe,' he cry'd,
'To tumble me in and leave me!
What if I had in the river dy'd?
That fetch will not deceive me. |
| 28 |
'Once more I'll pardon thee this day,
Tho injurd out of measure;
But then prepare without delay
To yield thee to my pleasure.' |
| 29 |
'Well then, if I must grant your suit,
Yet think of your boots and spurs, sir;
Let me pull off both spur and boot,
Or else you cannot stir, sir." |
| 30 |
He set him down upon the grass,
And begd her kind assistance;
'Now,' smiling thought this lovely lass,
'I'll make you keep your distance.' |
| 31 |
Then pulling off his boots half-way,
'Sir knight, now I'm your betters;
You shall not make of me your prey;
Sit there like a knave in fetters.' |
| 32 |
The knight when she had served soe,
He fretted, fum'd and grumbled;
For he could neither stand nor goe,
But like a cripple tumbled. |
| 33 |
'Farewell, sir knight, the clock strikes ten,
Yet do not move nor stir, sir;
I'll send you my father's serving-men,
To pull off your boots and spurs, sir. |
| 34 |
'This merry jest you must excuse;
You are but a stingless nettle;
You'd never have stood for boots or shoes
Had you been a man of mettle.' |
| 35 |
All night in grievous rage he lay,
Rolling upon the plain-a;
Next morning a shepherd past that way,
Who set him right again-a. |
| 36 |
Then mounting upon his steed so tall,
By hill and dale he swore-a,
I'll ride at once to her father's hall;
She shall escape no more-a. |
| 37 |
'I'll take her father by the beard,
I'll challenge all her kindred;
Each dastard soul shall stand affeard;
My wrath shall no more be hindred.' |
| 38 |
He rode unto her father's house,
Which every side was moated;
The lady heard his furious vows,
And all his vengeance noted. |
| 39 |
Thought shee, sir knight, to quench your rag
Once more I will endeavor;
This water shall your fury swage,
Or else it shall burn forever. |
| 40 |
Then, faining penitence and feare,
She did invite a parley:
'Sir knight, if you'll forgive me heare,
Henceforth I'll love you dearly. |
| 41 |
'My father he is now from home,
And I am all alone, sir;
Therefore across the water come,
And I am all your own, sir.' |
| 42 |
'False maid, thou canst no more deceive;
I scorn the treacherous bait-a;
If thou wouldst have me thee believe,
Now open me the gate-a.' |
| 43 |
'The bridge is drawn, the gate is barrd,
My father has the keys, sir;
But I have for my love prepar'd
A shorter way and easier. |
| 44 |
'Over the moate I've laid a plank,
Full seventeen feet in measure;
Then step across to the other bank,
And there we'll take our pleasure.' |
| 45 |
These words she had no sooner spoke,
But strait he came tripping over;
The plank was sawd, it snapping broke,
And sousd the unhappy lover. |
