| |
| AS 1 it fell one holy-day, | |
| Hay downe | |
| As many be in the yeare, | |
| When young men and maids together did goe, | |
| Their mattins and masse to heare; | 5 |
| |
| Little Musgrave came to the church-dore:— | |
| The preist was at private masse;— | |
| But he had more minde of the faire women | |
| Then he had of our lady’s grace. | |
| |
| The one of them was clad in green, | 10 |
| Another was clad in pall, | |
| And then came in my lord Barnard’s wife, | |
| The fairest amonst them all. | |
| |
| She cast an eye on Little Musgrave, | |
| As bright as the summer sun; | 15 |
| And then bethought this Little Musgrave, | |
| ‘This lady’s heart have I woonn.’ | |
| |
| Quoth she, ‘I have loved thee, Little Musgrave, | |
| Full long and many a day;’ | |
| ‘So have I loved you, fair lady, | 20 |
| Yet never word durst I say.’ | |
| |
| ‘I have a bower at Bucklesfordbery, | |
| Full daintyly it is deight; | |
| If thou wilt wend thither, thou Little Musgrave, | |
| Thou’s lig in mine armes all night.’ | 25 |
| |
| Quoth he, ‘I thank yee, fair lady, | |
| This kindness thou showest to me; | |
| But whether it be to my weal or woe, | |
| This night I will lig with thee.’ | |
| |
| With that he heard, a little tynë page, | 30 |
| By his ladye’s coach as he ran: | |
| ‘All though I am my ladye’s foot-page, | |
| Yet I am Lord Barnard’s man. | |
| |
| ‘My lord Barnard shall knowe of this, | |
| Whether I sink or swim;’ | 35 |
| And ever where the bridges were broake | |
| He laid him downe to swimme. | |
| |
| ‘A sleepe or wake, them Lord Barnard, | |
| As thou art a man of life, | |
| For Little Musgrave is at Bucklesfordbery, | 40 |
| A bed with thy own wedded wife.’ | |
| |
| ‘If this be true, thou littele tinny page, | |
| This thing thou tellest to me, | |
| Then all the land in Bucklesfordbery | |
| I freely will give to thee. | 45 |
| |
| ‘But if it be a ly, thou little tinny page, | |
| This thing thou tellest to me, | |
| On the hyest tree in Bucklesfordbery | |
| Then hanged shalt thou be.’ | |
| |
| He called up his merry men all; | 50 |
| ‘Come saddle me my steed; | |
| This night must I to Bucklesfordbery, | |
| For I never had greater need.’ | |
| |
| And some of them whistld, and some of them sung, | |
| And some these words did say, | 55 |
| And ever when my Lord Barnard’s horn blew, | |
| ‘Away, Musgrave, away!’ | |
| |
| ‘Methinks I hear the thresel-cock, | |
| Methinks I hear the jaye; | |
| Methinks I hear my Lord Barnard, | 60 |
| And I would I were away!’ | |
| |
| ‘Lye still, lye still, thou little Musgrave, | |
| And huggell me from the cold; | |
| ’Tis nothing but a shepherd’s boy | |
| A driving his sheep to the fold. | 65 |
| |
| ‘Is not thy hawke upon a perch, | |
| Thy steed eats oats and hay, | |
| And thou a fair lady in thine armes, | |
| And wouldst thou bee away?’ | |
| |
| With that my Lord Barnard came to the dore, | 70 |
| And lit a stone upon; | |
| He plucked out three silver keys | |
| And he open’d the dores each one. | |
| |
| He lifted up the coverlett, | |
| He lifted up the sheet: | 75 |
| ‘How now, how now, thou Littell Musgrave, | |
| Doest thou find my lady sweet?’ | |
| |
| ‘I find her sweet,’ quoth Littell Musgrave, | |
| ‘The more ’tis to my paine; | |
| I would gladly give three hundred pounds | 80 |
| That I were on yonder plaine.’ | |
| |
| ‘Arise, arise, thou Littell Musgrave, | |
| And put thy clothës on; | |
| It shall nere be said in my country | |
| I have killed a naked man. | 85 |
| |
| ‘I have two swords in one scabberd, | |
| Full deere they cost my purse; | |
| And thou shalt have the best of them, | |
| And I will have the worse.’ | |
| |
| The first stroke that Little Musgrave stroke, | 90 |
| He hurt Lord Barnard sore; | |
| The next stroke that Lord Barnard stroke, | |
| Little Musgrave nere struck more. | |
| |
| With that bespake this faire lady, | |
| In bed whereas she lay: | 95 |
| ‘Although thou’rt dead, thou Little Musgrave, | |
| Yet I for thee will pray. | |
| |
| ‘And wish well to thy soule will I, | |
| So long as I have life; | |
| So will I not for thee, Barnard, | 100 |
| Although I am thy wedded wife.’ | |
| |
| He cut her paps from off her brest; | |
| Great pitty it was to see | |
| That some drops of this ladies heart’s blood | |
| Ran trickling downe her knee. | 105 |
| |
| ‘Woe worth you, woe worth, my mery men all, | |
| You were nere borne for my good; | |
| Why did you not offer to stay my hand, | |
| When you see me wax so wood? | |
| |
| ‘For I have slaine the bravest sir knight | 110 |
| That ever rode on steed; | |
| So have I done the fairest lady | |
| That ever did woman’s deed. | |
| |
| ‘A grave, a grave,’ Lord Barnard cry’d, | |
| To put these lovers in; | 115 |
| But lay my lady on the upper hand, | |
| For she came of better kin.’ | |
