Little Matthew Groves- Tillett (NC) 1924 Chappell
[From Folk-Songs from the Roanoke and Albemarle; Chappell, 1939, p. 29-31. Sung by Charles Tillett, Wanchese, N.C.
Tink Tillet was once of Chappell's best informants; he also contributed to The Brown Collection and Frank Warner's collections.
R. Matteson 2015]
Little Matthew Groves- Tillet, 1924
There was a day and a high holiday,
The highest day in the year;
Little Matthew Groves went to church that day
The holy word to hear, the holy word to hear.
The first came down was a gay lady,
The next came down was the more[1];
The next came down was Lord Honor's wife,
The fairest of them all.
Little Matthew Groves was standing by,
On him she cast an eye,
Saying, You must go home with me this night,
This night with me to lie.
O no, O no, says Little Matthew Groves,
I dare not for my life;
For the rings that's on your finger
You are Lord Honor's wife.
If I am Lord Honor's wife,
As you would suppose me to be.
He is to the new castle gone
King Henry for to see.
The footpage was standing by,
He took to his heels and he ran;
He ran till he came to the broad waters,
He dived to his breast and he swam.
He swam till he came to the other shore,
He took to his heels and he ran;
He ran till he came to King Henry's gate,
Lord Honor let him in.
What news, what news, my little footpage,
What news do you bring to me?
Little Matthew Groves is at your own house,
In bed with your gay lady.
If this be true, my little footpage,
As I would suppose it to be,
I have but one daughter in this world,
And she your bride shall be.
If this be a lie, my little footpage,
As I would suppose it to be,
A new gallows I'll have made
And a hangerage[2] you shall be.
He called all his merry, merry men,
He stood them in a row;
He ordered nary a word to be spoke,
Nor nary a horn to blow.
There was one of his merry, merry men
That knew Little Matthew full well;
He slapped his bugle to his mouth,
And he blew it loud and shrill.
Hark, hark, hark, says Little Matthew Groves,
I am taken with great fear;
I fear that is Lord Honor's horn
That blows so loud and clear.
Lie still, lie still, said the gay lady,
And keep me from the cold;
It's nothing but my father's little boys
A-driving the sheep from the fold.
From that they fell to hugging and kissing,
From that they fell to sleep;
And the very next thing that they did know
Lord Honor was at their bed feet.
O how do you like my coverlets,
And how do you like my sheets?
And how do you like my gay lady
That lies in your arms asleep?
It's well I like your coverlets,
And well I like your sheets;
Much better I like your gay lady
That lies in my arms asleep.
Rise up, rise up, Little Matthew Groves,
And put your clothing on;
ft never shall be said in old England
That I've slain a naked man.
Now if I have got to rise
And fight for my life;
You've got two broadswords by your side
And I with nary a knife.
If I've got two broadswords by my side,
They cost me deep in the purse;
And you may have the very best
And I will take the worst.
You may have the very first b1ow,
And I must have the other;
And that's as fair as I could be
If you were my own dear brother.
The very first lick Little Matthew did strike
He wounded Lord Honor full sore;
But the very first lick Lord Honor struck
Little Matthew could fight no more.
He took his gay lady by the hand
And set her on his knee;
Now it's which do you like the best,
Little Matthew Groves or me?
It's well I like his cherry cheeks,
And well I like his chin;
Much better do I like Little Matthew Groves
Than Lord Honor and all his kin.
He took his gay lady by the hand
And led her over the plain;
He took his broadsword from his side
And split her head in twain.
So cheerful chirps the nightingale,
And sweetly sings the sparrow;
Lord Honor has killed two folks today,
And he'll be hung tomorrow, tomorrow,
And he'll be hung tomorrow.
1. this is unusual and I'm not sure how it refers back.
2. hang-ed