| 1 |
Yonder comes a courteous knight,
Lustely raking ouer the lay;
He was well ware of a bonny lasse,
As she came wandring ouer the way.
Then she sang downe a downe, hey downe derry (bis) |
| 2 |
'Ioue you speed, fayre lady,' he said,
'Among the leaues that be so greene;
If I were a king, and wore a crowne,
Full soone, fair lady, shouldst thou be a queen.
Then she sang downe a downe, hey downe derry (bis) |
| 3 |
'Also Ioue saue you, faire lady,
Among the roses that be so red;
If I haue not my will of you,
Full soone, faire lady, shall I be dead.'
Then she sang downe a downe, hey downe derry (bis) |
| 4 |
Then he lookt east, then hee lookt west,
Hee lookt north, so did he south;
He could not finde a priuy place,
For all lay in the diuel's mouth.
Then she sang downe a downe, hey downe derry (bis) |
| 5 |
'If you will carry me, gentle sir,
A mayde vnto my father's hall,
Then you shall haue your will of me,
Vnder purple and vnder paule.'
Then she sang downe a downe, hey downe derry (bis) |
| 6 |
He set her vp vpon a steed,
And him selfe vpon another,
And all the day he rode her by,
As though they had been sister and brother.
Then she sang downe a downe, hey downe derry (bis) |
| 7 |
When she came to her father's hall,
It was well walled round about;
She yode in at the wicket-gate,
And shut the foure-eard foole without.
Then she sang downe a downe, hey downe derry (bis) |
| 8 |
'You had me,' quoth she, 'abroad in the field,
Among the corne, amidst the hay,
Where you might had your will of mee,
For, in good faith, sir, I neuer said nay.
Then she sang downe a downe, hey downe derry (bis) |
| 9 |
'Ye had me also amid the field,
Among the rushes that were so browne,
Where you might had your will of me,
But you had not the face to lay me downe.'
Then she sang downe a downe, hey downe derry (bis) |
| 10 |
He pulled out his nut-browne sword,
And wipt the rust off with his sleeue,
And said, Ioue's curse come to his heart
That any woman would beleeue!
Then she sang downe a downe, hey downe derry (bis) |
| 11 |
When you haue you owne true-loue
A mile or twaine out of the towne,
Spare not for her gay clothing,
But lay her body flat on the ground.
Then she sang downe a downe, hey downe derry (bis) |
