Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard- 1658 Child A
Little Musgrave and the Lady Barnard- Version A Child 81 Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard
a. Wit Restord, 1658, in the reprint ' Facetiae,' London, 1817, I, 293.
b. Wit and Drollery, 1682, p. 81.
1. As 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,
2 Little Musgrave came to the church-dore;
Hay downe
The preist was at private masse;
But he had more minde of the faire women
Then he had of our lady['s] grace.
3 The one of them was clad in green,
Hay downe
Another was clad in pall,
And then came in my lord Bernard's wife,
The fairest amonst them all.
4 She cast an eye on Little Musgrave,
Hay downe
As bright as the summer sun;
And then bethought this Little Musgrave,
This lady's heart have I woonn.
5 Quoth she, I have loved thee, Little Musgrave,
Hay downe
Full long and many a day;
'So have I loved you, fair lady,
Yet never word durst I say.'
6 'I have a bower at Buckelsfordbery,
Hay downe
Full daintyly it is deight;
If thou wilt wend thither, thou Little Musgrave,
Thou's lig in mine armes all night.'
7 Quoth he, I thank yee, faire lady,
Hay downe
This kindnes thou showest to me;
But whether it be to my weal or woe,
This night I will lig with thee.
8 With that he heard, a little tyn page,
Hay downe
By this ladye's coach as he ran:
'All though I am my ladye's foot-page,
Yet I am Lord Barnard's man.
9 'My lord Barnard shall knowe of this,
Hay downe
Whether I sink or swim;'
And ever where the bridges were broake
He laid him downe to swimme.
10 'A sleepe or wake, thou Lord Barnard,
Hay downe
As thou art a man of life,
For Little Musgrave is at Bucklesfordbery,
A bed with thy own wedded wife.'
11 'If this be true, thou little tinny page,
Hay downe
This thing thou tellest to me,
Then all the land in Bucklesfordbery
I freely will give to thee.
12 'But if it be a ly, thou little tinny page,
Hay downe
This thing thou tellest to me,
On the hyest tree in Bucklesfordbery
Then hanged shalt thou be.'
13 He called up his merry men all:
Hay downe
'Come saddle me my steed;
This night must I to Buckellsfordbery,
For I never had greater need.'
14 And some of them whistld, and some of them sung,
Hay downe
And some these words did say,
And ever when my lord Barnard's horn blew,
'Away, Musgrave, away!'
15 'Methinks I hear the thresel-cock,
Hay downe
Methinks I hear the jaye;
Methinks I hear my lord Barnard,
And I would I were away.'
16 'Lye still, lye still, thou Little Musgrave,
Hay downe
And huggell me from the cold;
'Tis nothing but a shephard's boy,
A driving his sheep to the fold.
17 'Is not thy hawke upon a perch?
Hay downe
Thy steed eats oats and hay;
And thou a fair lady in thine armes,
And wouldst thou bee away?'
18 With that my lord Barnard came to the dore,
Hay downe
And lit a stone upon;
He plucked out three silver keys,
And he opend the dores each one.
19 He lifted up the coverlett,
Hay downe
He lifted up the sheet:
'How now, how now, thou Littell Musgrave,
Doest thou find my lady sweet?'
20 'I find her sweet,' quoth Little Musgrave,
Hay downe
'The more 'tis to my paine;
I would gladly give three hundred pounds
That I were on yonder plaine.'
21 'Arise, arise, thou Littell Musgrave,
Hay downe
And put thy cloth s on;
It shall nere be said in my country
I have killed a naked man.
22 'I have two swords in one scabberd,
Hay downe
Full deere they cost my purse;
And thou shalt have the best of them,
And I will have the worse.'
23 The first stroke that Little Musgrave stroke,
Hay downe
He hurt Lord Barnard sore;
The next stroke that Lord Barnard stroke,
Little Musgrave nere struck more.
24 With that bespake this faire lady,
Hay downe
In bed whereas she lay:
'Although thou'rt dead, thou Little Musgrave,
Yet I for thee will pray.
25 'And wish well to thy soule will I,
Hay downe
So long as I have life;
So will I not for thee, Barnard,
Although I am thy wedded wife.'
26 He cut her paps from off her brest;
Hay downe
Great pitty it was to see
That some drops of this ladie's heart's blood
Ran trickling downe her knee.
27 'Woe worth you, woe worth, my mery men all
Hay downe
You were nere borne for my good;
Why did you not offer to stay my hand,
When you see me wax so wood?
28 'For I have slaine the bravest sir knight
Hay downe
That ever rode on steed;
So have I done the fairest lady
That ever did woman's deed.
29 'A grave, a grave,' Lord Barnard cryd,
Hay downe
'To put these lovers in;
But lay my lady on the upper hand,
For she came of the better kin.'