YOUNG BEICHAN AND SUSIE PYE
InLondon was young Beichan born,He longed strange countries for to see;But he was taen by a savage Moor,Who handled him right cruellie;For he viewed the fashions of that land;Their way of worship viewed he;But to Mahound, or Termagant,Would Beichan never bend a knee.So in every shoulder they’ve putten a bore;In every bore they’ve putten a tree;And they have made him trail the wineAnd spices on his fair bodie.They’ve casten him in a dungeon deep,Where he could neither hear nor see;For seven years they kept him there,Till he for hunger’s like to die.This Moor he had but ae daughter,Her name was called Susie Pye;And every day as she took the air,Near Beichan’s prison she passed by.O so it fell, upon a dayShe heard young Beichan sadly sing:My hounds they all go masterless;My hawks they flee from tree to tree;My younger brother will heir my land;Fair England again I’ll never see!All night long no rest she got,Young Beichan’s song for thinking on;She’s stown the keys from her father’s head,And to the prison strong is gone.And she has opend the prison doors,I wot she opend two or three,Ere she could come young Beichan at,He was locked up so curiouslie.But when she came young Beichan before,Sore wonderd he that may to see;He took her for some fair captive;—“Fair Lady, I pray, of what countrie?”“O have ye any lands,” she said,“Or castles in your own countrie,That ye could give to a lady fair,From prison strong to set you free?”“Near London town I have a hall,With other castles two or three;I’ll give them all to the lady fairThat out of prison will set me free.”“Give me the truth of your right hand,The truth of it give unto me,That for seven years ye’ll no lady wed,Unless it be along with me.”“I’ll give thee the truth of my right hand,The truth of it I’ll freely gie,That for seven years I’ll stay unwed,For the kindness thou dost show to me.”She’s gi’en him to eat the good spice-cake,She’s gi’en him to drink the blood-red wine;She’s bidden him sometimes think on her,That sae kindly freed him out of pine.She’s broken a ring from her finger,And to Beichan half of it gave she:“Keep it, to mind you of that loveThe lady bore that set you free.“And set your foot on good ship-board,And haste ye back to your own countrie;And before that seven years have an end,Come back again, love, and marry me.”
InLondon was young Beichan born,He longed strange countries for to see;But he was taen by a savage Moor,Who handled him right cruellie;For he viewed the fashions of that land;Their way of worship viewed he;But to Mahound, or Termagant,Would Beichan never bend a knee.So in every shoulder they’ve putten a bore;In every bore they’ve putten a tree;And they have made him trail the wineAnd spices on his fair bodie.They’ve casten him in a dungeon deep,Where he could neither hear nor see;For seven years they kept him there,Till he for hunger’s like to die.This Moor he had but ae daughter,Her name was called Susie Pye;And every day as she took the air,Near Beichan’s prison she passed by.O so it fell, upon a dayShe heard young Beichan sadly sing:My hounds they all go masterless;My hawks they flee from tree to tree;My younger brother will heir my land;Fair England again I’ll never see!All night long no rest she got,Young Beichan’s song for thinking on;She’s stown the keys from her father’s head,And to the prison strong is gone.And she has opend the prison doors,I wot she opend two or three,Ere she could come young Beichan at,He was locked up so curiouslie.But when she came young Beichan before,Sore wonderd he that may to see;He took her for some fair captive;—“Fair Lady, I pray, of what countrie?”“O have ye any lands,” she said,“Or castles in your own countrie,That ye could give to a lady fair,From prison strong to set you free?”“Near London town I have a hall,With other castles two or three;I’ll give them all to the lady fairThat out of prison will set me free.”“Give me the truth of your right hand,The truth of it give unto me,That for seven years ye’ll no lady wed,Unless it be along with me.”“I’ll give thee the truth of my right hand,The truth of it I’ll freely gie,That for seven years I’ll stay unwed,For the kindness thou dost show to me.”She’s gi’en him to eat the good spice-cake,She’s gi’en him to drink the blood-red wine;She’s bidden him sometimes think on her,That sae kindly freed him out of pine.She’s broken a ring from her finger,And to Beichan half of it gave she:“Keep it, to mind you of that loveThe lady bore that set you free.“And set your foot on good ship-board,And haste ye back to your own countrie;And before that seven years have an end,Come back again, love, and marry me.”
InLondon was young Beichan born,He longed strange countries for to see;But he was taen by a savage Moor,Who handled him right cruellie;
InLondon was young Beichan born,
He longed strange countries for to see;
But he was taen by a savage Moor,
Who handled him right cruellie;
For he viewed the fashions of that land;Their way of worship viewed he;But to Mahound, or Termagant,Would Beichan never bend a knee.
For he viewed the fashions of that land;
Their way of worship viewed he;
But to Mahound, or Termagant,
Would Beichan never bend a knee.
So in every shoulder they’ve putten a bore;In every bore they’ve putten a tree;And they have made him trail the wineAnd spices on his fair bodie.
So in every shoulder they’ve putten a bore;
In every bore they’ve putten a tree;
And they have made him trail the wine
And spices on his fair bodie.
They’ve casten him in a dungeon deep,Where he could neither hear nor see;For seven years they kept him there,Till he for hunger’s like to die.
They’ve casten him in a dungeon deep,
Where he could neither hear nor see;
For seven years they kept him there,
Till he for hunger’s like to die.
This Moor he had but ae daughter,Her name was called Susie Pye;And every day as she took the air,Near Beichan’s prison she passed by.
This Moor he had but ae daughter,
Her name was called Susie Pye;
And every day as she took the air,
Near Beichan’s prison she passed by.
O so it fell, upon a dayShe heard young Beichan sadly sing:My hounds they all go masterless;My hawks they flee from tree to tree;My younger brother will heir my land;Fair England again I’ll never see!
O so it fell, upon a day
She heard young Beichan sadly sing:
My hounds they all go masterless;
My hawks they flee from tree to tree;
My younger brother will heir my land;
Fair England again I’ll never see!
All night long no rest she got,Young Beichan’s song for thinking on;She’s stown the keys from her father’s head,And to the prison strong is gone.
All night long no rest she got,
Young Beichan’s song for thinking on;
She’s stown the keys from her father’s head,
And to the prison strong is gone.
And she has opend the prison doors,I wot she opend two or three,Ere she could come young Beichan at,He was locked up so curiouslie.
And she has opend the prison doors,
I wot she opend two or three,
Ere she could come young Beichan at,
He was locked up so curiouslie.
But when she came young Beichan before,Sore wonderd he that may to see;He took her for some fair captive;—“Fair Lady, I pray, of what countrie?”
But when she came young Beichan before,
Sore wonderd he that may to see;
He took her for some fair captive;—
“Fair Lady, I pray, of what countrie?”
“O have ye any lands,” she said,“Or castles in your own countrie,That ye could give to a lady fair,From prison strong to set you free?”
“O have ye any lands,” she said,
“Or castles in your own countrie,
That ye could give to a lady fair,
From prison strong to set you free?”
“Near London town I have a hall,With other castles two or three;I’ll give them all to the lady fairThat out of prison will set me free.”
“Near London town I have a hall,
With other castles two or three;
I’ll give them all to the lady fair
That out of prison will set me free.”
“Give me the truth of your right hand,The truth of it give unto me,That for seven years ye’ll no lady wed,Unless it be along with me.”
“Give me the truth of your right hand,
The truth of it give unto me,
That for seven years ye’ll no lady wed,
Unless it be along with me.”
“I’ll give thee the truth of my right hand,The truth of it I’ll freely gie,That for seven years I’ll stay unwed,For the kindness thou dost show to me.”
“I’ll give thee the truth of my right hand,
The truth of it I’ll freely gie,
That for seven years I’ll stay unwed,
For the kindness thou dost show to me.”
She’s gi’en him to eat the good spice-cake,She’s gi’en him to drink the blood-red wine;She’s bidden him sometimes think on her,That sae kindly freed him out of pine.
She’s gi’en him to eat the good spice-cake,
She’s gi’en him to drink the blood-red wine;
She’s bidden him sometimes think on her,
That sae kindly freed him out of pine.
She’s broken a ring from her finger,And to Beichan half of it gave she:“Keep it, to mind you of that loveThe lady bore that set you free.
She’s broken a ring from her finger,
And to Beichan half of it gave she:
“Keep it, to mind you of that love
The lady bore that set you free.
“And set your foot on good ship-board,And haste ye back to your own countrie;And before that seven years have an end,Come back again, love, and marry me.”
“And set your foot on good ship-board,
And haste ye back to your own countrie;
And before that seven years have an end,
Come back again, love, and marry me.”
Butlong ere seven years had an end,She longd full sore her love to see;For ever a voice within her breastSaid, “Beichan has broke his vow to thee.”So she’s set her foot on good ship-board,And turnd her back on her own countrie.She sailed east, she sailed west,Till to fair England’s shore she came;Where a bonny shepherd she espied,Feeding his sheep upon the plain.“What news, what news, thou bonny shepherd?What news hast thou to tell to me?”“Such news I hear, ladie,” he says,“The like was never in this countrie.“There is a wedding in yonder hall,Has lasted these thirty days and three;Young Beichan will not wed his bride,For love of one that’s yond the sea.”She’s put her hand in her pocket,Gi’en him the gold and white monie;“Hae, take ye that, my bonny boy,For the good news thou tell’st to me.”When she came to young Beichan’s gate,She tirled softly at the pin;So ready was the proud porterTo open and let this lady in.“Is this young Beichan’s hall,” she said,“Or is that noble lord within?”“Yea, he’s in the hall among them all,And this is the day o’ his weddin.”“And has he wed anither love?And has he clean forgotten me?”And sighin’ said that gay ladie,“I wish I were in my own countrie!”And she has taen her gay gold ring,That with her love she break so free;Says, “Gie him that, ye proud porter,And bid the bridegroom speak to me.”When the porter came his lord before,He kneeled down low on his knee:“What aileth thee, my proud porter,Thou art so full of courtesie?”“I’ve been porter at your gates,It’s thirty long years now and three;But there stands a lady at them now,The like o’ her did I never see;“For on every finger she has a ring,And on her mid-finger she has three,And as meickle gold aboon her browAs would buy an earldom to me.”Its out then spak the bride’s mother,Aye, and an angry woman was shee;“Ye might have excepted our bonny bride,And twa or three of our companie.”“O hold your tongue, thou bride’s mother,Of all your folly let me be;She’s ten times fairer nor the bride,And all that’s in your companie.“She begs one sheave of your white bread,But and a cup of your red wine;And to remember the lady’s love,That last reliev’d you out of pine.”“O well-a-day!” said Beichan then,“That I so soon have married thee;For it can be none but Susie Pye,That sailed the sea for love of me.”And quickly hied he down the stair;Of fifteen steps he made but three;He’s taen his bonny love in his arms,And kist and kist her tenderlie.“O hae ye taen anither bride?And hae ye quite forgotten me?And hae ye quite forgotten her,That gave you life and libertie?”She looked o’er her left shoulder,To hide the tears stood in her e’e:“Now fare thee well, young Beichan,” she says,“I’ll try to think no more on thee.”“O never, never, Susie Pye,For surely this can never be;Nor ever shall I wed but herThat’s done and dree’d so much for me.”Then out and spak the forenoon bride,“My lord, your love it changeth soon;This morning I was made your bride,And another chose ere it be noon.”“O hold thy tongue, thou forenoon bride,My true love, thou canst never be;And whan ye return to your own countrie,A double dower I’ll send with thee.”He’s taen Susie Pye by the white hand,And gently led her up and down;And ay as he kist her red rosy lips,“Ye’re welcome, jewel, to your own.”He’s taen her by the milk-white hand,And led her to yon fountain stane;He’s changed her name from Susie Pye,And he’s call’d her his bonny love, Lady Jane.
Butlong ere seven years had an end,She longd full sore her love to see;For ever a voice within her breastSaid, “Beichan has broke his vow to thee.”So she’s set her foot on good ship-board,And turnd her back on her own countrie.She sailed east, she sailed west,Till to fair England’s shore she came;Where a bonny shepherd she espied,Feeding his sheep upon the plain.“What news, what news, thou bonny shepherd?What news hast thou to tell to me?”“Such news I hear, ladie,” he says,“The like was never in this countrie.“There is a wedding in yonder hall,Has lasted these thirty days and three;Young Beichan will not wed his bride,For love of one that’s yond the sea.”She’s put her hand in her pocket,Gi’en him the gold and white monie;“Hae, take ye that, my bonny boy,For the good news thou tell’st to me.”When she came to young Beichan’s gate,She tirled softly at the pin;So ready was the proud porterTo open and let this lady in.“Is this young Beichan’s hall,” she said,“Or is that noble lord within?”“Yea, he’s in the hall among them all,And this is the day o’ his weddin.”“And has he wed anither love?And has he clean forgotten me?”And sighin’ said that gay ladie,“I wish I were in my own countrie!”And she has taen her gay gold ring,That with her love she break so free;Says, “Gie him that, ye proud porter,And bid the bridegroom speak to me.”When the porter came his lord before,He kneeled down low on his knee:“What aileth thee, my proud porter,Thou art so full of courtesie?”“I’ve been porter at your gates,It’s thirty long years now and three;But there stands a lady at them now,The like o’ her did I never see;“For on every finger she has a ring,And on her mid-finger she has three,And as meickle gold aboon her browAs would buy an earldom to me.”Its out then spak the bride’s mother,Aye, and an angry woman was shee;“Ye might have excepted our bonny bride,And twa or three of our companie.”“O hold your tongue, thou bride’s mother,Of all your folly let me be;She’s ten times fairer nor the bride,And all that’s in your companie.“She begs one sheave of your white bread,But and a cup of your red wine;And to remember the lady’s love,That last reliev’d you out of pine.”“O well-a-day!” said Beichan then,“That I so soon have married thee;For it can be none but Susie Pye,That sailed the sea for love of me.”And quickly hied he down the stair;Of fifteen steps he made but three;He’s taen his bonny love in his arms,And kist and kist her tenderlie.“O hae ye taen anither bride?And hae ye quite forgotten me?And hae ye quite forgotten her,That gave you life and libertie?”She looked o’er her left shoulder,To hide the tears stood in her e’e:“Now fare thee well, young Beichan,” she says,“I’ll try to think no more on thee.”“O never, never, Susie Pye,For surely this can never be;Nor ever shall I wed but herThat’s done and dree’d so much for me.”Then out and spak the forenoon bride,“My lord, your love it changeth soon;This morning I was made your bride,And another chose ere it be noon.”“O hold thy tongue, thou forenoon bride,My true love, thou canst never be;And whan ye return to your own countrie,A double dower I’ll send with thee.”He’s taen Susie Pye by the white hand,And gently led her up and down;And ay as he kist her red rosy lips,“Ye’re welcome, jewel, to your own.”He’s taen her by the milk-white hand,And led her to yon fountain stane;He’s changed her name from Susie Pye,And he’s call’d her his bonny love, Lady Jane.
Butlong ere seven years had an end,She longd full sore her love to see;For ever a voice within her breastSaid, “Beichan has broke his vow to thee.”So she’s set her foot on good ship-board,And turnd her back on her own countrie.
Butlong ere seven years had an end,
She longd full sore her love to see;
For ever a voice within her breast
Said, “Beichan has broke his vow to thee.”
So she’s set her foot on good ship-board,
And turnd her back on her own countrie.
She sailed east, she sailed west,Till to fair England’s shore she came;Where a bonny shepherd she espied,Feeding his sheep upon the plain.
She sailed east, she sailed west,
Till to fair England’s shore she came;
Where a bonny shepherd she espied,
Feeding his sheep upon the plain.
“What news, what news, thou bonny shepherd?What news hast thou to tell to me?”“Such news I hear, ladie,” he says,“The like was never in this countrie.
“What news, what news, thou bonny shepherd?
What news hast thou to tell to me?”
“Such news I hear, ladie,” he says,
“The like was never in this countrie.
“There is a wedding in yonder hall,Has lasted these thirty days and three;Young Beichan will not wed his bride,For love of one that’s yond the sea.”
“There is a wedding in yonder hall,
Has lasted these thirty days and three;
Young Beichan will not wed his bride,
For love of one that’s yond the sea.”
She’s put her hand in her pocket,Gi’en him the gold and white monie;“Hae, take ye that, my bonny boy,For the good news thou tell’st to me.”
She’s put her hand in her pocket,
Gi’en him the gold and white monie;
“Hae, take ye that, my bonny boy,
For the good news thou tell’st to me.”
When she came to young Beichan’s gate,She tirled softly at the pin;So ready was the proud porterTo open and let this lady in.
When she came to young Beichan’s gate,
She tirled softly at the pin;
So ready was the proud porter
To open and let this lady in.
“Is this young Beichan’s hall,” she said,“Or is that noble lord within?”“Yea, he’s in the hall among them all,And this is the day o’ his weddin.”
“Is this young Beichan’s hall,” she said,
“Or is that noble lord within?”
“Yea, he’s in the hall among them all,
And this is the day o’ his weddin.”
“And has he wed anither love?And has he clean forgotten me?”And sighin’ said that gay ladie,“I wish I were in my own countrie!”
“And has he wed anither love?
And has he clean forgotten me?”
And sighin’ said that gay ladie,
“I wish I were in my own countrie!”
And she has taen her gay gold ring,That with her love she break so free;Says, “Gie him that, ye proud porter,And bid the bridegroom speak to me.”
And she has taen her gay gold ring,
That with her love she break so free;
Says, “Gie him that, ye proud porter,
And bid the bridegroom speak to me.”
When the porter came his lord before,He kneeled down low on his knee:“What aileth thee, my proud porter,Thou art so full of courtesie?”
When the porter came his lord before,
He kneeled down low on his knee:
“What aileth thee, my proud porter,
Thou art so full of courtesie?”
“I’ve been porter at your gates,It’s thirty long years now and three;But there stands a lady at them now,The like o’ her did I never see;
“I’ve been porter at your gates,
It’s thirty long years now and three;
But there stands a lady at them now,
The like o’ her did I never see;
“For on every finger she has a ring,And on her mid-finger she has three,And as meickle gold aboon her browAs would buy an earldom to me.”
“For on every finger she has a ring,
And on her mid-finger she has three,
And as meickle gold aboon her brow
As would buy an earldom to me.”
Its out then spak the bride’s mother,Aye, and an angry woman was shee;“Ye might have excepted our bonny bride,And twa or three of our companie.”
Its out then spak the bride’s mother,
Aye, and an angry woman was shee;
“Ye might have excepted our bonny bride,
And twa or three of our companie.”
“O hold your tongue, thou bride’s mother,Of all your folly let me be;She’s ten times fairer nor the bride,And all that’s in your companie.
“O hold your tongue, thou bride’s mother,
Of all your folly let me be;
She’s ten times fairer nor the bride,
And all that’s in your companie.
“She begs one sheave of your white bread,But and a cup of your red wine;And to remember the lady’s love,That last reliev’d you out of pine.”
“She begs one sheave of your white bread,
But and a cup of your red wine;
And to remember the lady’s love,
That last reliev’d you out of pine.”
“O well-a-day!” said Beichan then,“That I so soon have married thee;For it can be none but Susie Pye,That sailed the sea for love of me.”
“O well-a-day!” said Beichan then,
“That I so soon have married thee;
For it can be none but Susie Pye,
That sailed the sea for love of me.”
And quickly hied he down the stair;Of fifteen steps he made but three;He’s taen his bonny love in his arms,And kist and kist her tenderlie.
And quickly hied he down the stair;
Of fifteen steps he made but three;
He’s taen his bonny love in his arms,
And kist and kist her tenderlie.
“O hae ye taen anither bride?And hae ye quite forgotten me?And hae ye quite forgotten her,That gave you life and libertie?”
“O hae ye taen anither bride?
And hae ye quite forgotten me?
And hae ye quite forgotten her,
That gave you life and libertie?”
She looked o’er her left shoulder,To hide the tears stood in her e’e:“Now fare thee well, young Beichan,” she says,“I’ll try to think no more on thee.”
She looked o’er her left shoulder,
To hide the tears stood in her e’e:
“Now fare thee well, young Beichan,” she says,
“I’ll try to think no more on thee.”
“O never, never, Susie Pye,For surely this can never be;Nor ever shall I wed but herThat’s done and dree’d so much for me.”
“O never, never, Susie Pye,
For surely this can never be;
Nor ever shall I wed but her
That’s done and dree’d so much for me.”
Then out and spak the forenoon bride,“My lord, your love it changeth soon;This morning I was made your bride,And another chose ere it be noon.”
Then out and spak the forenoon bride,
“My lord, your love it changeth soon;
This morning I was made your bride,
And another chose ere it be noon.”
“O hold thy tongue, thou forenoon bride,My true love, thou canst never be;And whan ye return to your own countrie,A double dower I’ll send with thee.”
“O hold thy tongue, thou forenoon bride,
My true love, thou canst never be;
And whan ye return to your own countrie,
A double dower I’ll send with thee.”
He’s taen Susie Pye by the white hand,And gently led her up and down;And ay as he kist her red rosy lips,“Ye’re welcome, jewel, to your own.”
He’s taen Susie Pye by the white hand,
And gently led her up and down;
And ay as he kist her red rosy lips,
“Ye’re welcome, jewel, to your own.”
He’s taen her by the milk-white hand,And led her to yon fountain stane;He’s changed her name from Susie Pye,And he’s call’d her his bonny love, Lady Jane.
He’s taen her by the milk-white hand,
And led her to yon fountain stane;
He’s changed her name from Susie Pye,
And he’s call’d her his bonny love, Lady Jane.
(Condensed)