Lord Thomas and Fair Eleanor- Forgt-Me-Not Songster- c.1844
[This broadside text was printed c.1844 in the The Forget Me Not Songster: Containing a choice collection of old ballad Songs, as sung by our Grandmothers. It's the same text, with minor changes, as found in the British broadsides dating back to 1600s.
R. Matteson 2012, 2014]
The Forget-Me-Not Songster (New York, Nafis & Cornish), p. 236 c. 1840s
LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ELEANOR- The Forget-Me-Not Songster (New York, Nafis & Cornish), p. 236 c. 1846
Lord Thomas he was a bold forester,
And a chaser of the king's deer,
Fair Eleanor was a fine woman,
And Lord Thomas he loved her dear
Come riddle my riddle dear mother he said,
And riddle us both in one,
Whether I shall marry with fair Eleanor,
And let the Brown Girl alone.
The Brown Girl she has got money,
Fair Eleanor she has none,
Therefore I charge thee on my blessing,
Bring the Brown Girl home.
And as it befel on a holiday,
As many more do beside,
Lord Thomas he went to fair Eleanor,
That should have been his bride.
But when he came to Fair Eleanor's bower
He knocked at the ring,
Then who was so ready as fair Eleanor,
To let Lord Thomas in.
What news, what news, Lord Thomas, she said,
What news hast thou brought unto me,
I am come to bid thee to my wedding,
And that is sad news for thee.
O God forbid, Lord Thomas, she said,
That such thing ever should be done,
I thought to have been thy bride myself,
And thou to have been the bridegroom.
Come riddle my riddle, dear mother, she said,
And riddle it all in one, -
Whether I shall go to Lord Thomas's wedding,
Or whether I shall let it alone.
There's many that are our friends, daughter,
And many that are our foes,
Therefore I charge thee on my blessing,
To Lord Thomas's wedding don't go.
There's many that are our friends, mother,
If a thousand were our foes,
Betide me life, betide me death,
To Lord Thomas's wedding don't go.
She clothed herself in a gallant attire,
And her merry men all was seen,
And as she rode through every place,
They took her to be some Queen.
When she came to Lord Thomas's gate,
She knocked at the ring,
And who was so ready as Lord Thomas
To let fair Eleanor in.
He took her by the lilly white hand,
And led her through the hall,
And he sat her in the noblest chair,
Among the lady's all.
In this your bride, fair Eleanor said,
Methinks she looks wond'rous brown,
Thou might'st have had as fair a woman.
As ever trod upon the ground.
Despise her not, Lord Thomas he said,
Despise her not unto me,
For better I love her little finger,
Than all your whole body.
This Brown Girl had a little penknife,
Which was both keen and sharp,
And betwixt the short ribs and the long
She prick'd fair Eleanor to the heart.
O Christ now save me, Lord Thomas, she said,
Methinks thou look'st wond'rous wan
Thou used'st to look as good a color,
As ever the sun shone on.
O art thou blind, Lord Thomas, she said,
Or can'st thou not very well see,
O dost thou not see my own heart's blood
Run trickling down my knee.'
O dig my grave, Lord Thomas reply'd,
Dig it both wide and deep,
And lay fair Eleanor by my side
And the Brown Girl at my feet.
Lord Thomas he had a sword by his side
As he walked about the hall,
He cut his bride's head from off her shouldera,
And flung it against the wall.
He set his sword upon the ground,
And the point against his heart,
There never was three lovers sure,
That sooner did depart.