A pretty Ballad of the Lord of Lorn, and the false Steward.
The Tune is, Green-Sleeves.
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IT was a worthy Lord of Lo[r]n
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he was a Lord of high degree,
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He sent his Son unto the School,
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to learn some civility.
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He learned more in one day,
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then other Children did in three,
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And thus bespake the School-master,
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to him tenderly,
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In faith thou art the honestest boy,
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that e're I blinkt on with my eye:
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I hope thou art some Easterling born,
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the Holy Ghost is with thee:
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He said he was no Easterling born
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the child thus answered courteously,
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My Father is the Lord of Lorn,
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and I his Son Perdye.
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The School-master turned round about,
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his angry mood he could not swage
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He marvelled the child could speak so wise
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he being of so tender age.
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He girt the Saddle to the Steed,
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the Bridle of the best Gold shown,
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He took his leave of his fellows all,
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and quickly he was gone.
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And when he came to his father dear,
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he kneeled down on his knee
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I am come to you Father, he said,
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Gods blessing give you me:
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Thou art welcome my Son, he said,
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Gods blessing I thee give:
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What tidings hast thou brought my Son
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being come so hastily?
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I have brought tidings Father, he said,
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and so liked it may be:
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There's ne'r a Doctor in all the Realm
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for all he goes in rich array,
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I can write him a Lesson soon
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to learn in seven years [da]y.
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That is good tydings, said the Lord,
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all in the place where I do stand,
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My Son thou shalt into France go,
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to learn the speeches of each Land;
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Who shall go with him, said the Lady;
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husband we have none but he:
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Madam, he said my Head Steward,
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he hath been true to me.
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She call'd the Steward to an account
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a thousand pound she gave him anon:
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Says good sir steward by good to my child
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while he is far from home:
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If I be false unto my young Lord,
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then God be the like to me indeed,
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And now to France they both are gone,
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and God be their Good speed.
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They had not been in France Land,
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not three weeks to an end,
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But meat and drink the child got none,
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nor money in purse to spend.
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The Child run to the Rivers side,
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he was fain to drink water then,
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And after followed the false steward
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to put the Child therein:
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But nay marry, said the Child,
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he asked mercy pittifully,
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Good steward let me have my life
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what e're betide my body;
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Now put off thy fair cloathing,
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and give it me anon,
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So put thee off thy silken shirt,
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with many a golden seam.
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But when the child was stript naked
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his body as white as the Lilly flower
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He might have been seen for his body,
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a Princes Paramour:
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He put him on an old keltar Coat,
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and hose of the same above the knee,
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He bid him go to the Shepherds house,
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to keep Sheep on a love lovely:
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The Child said, what shall be my name
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good steward tell to me,
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Thy name shall be poor dost thou wear
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that thy name shall be.
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The Child came to the Shepherds house,
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and asked mercy pittifully,
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Says, good Shepherd take me in,
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to keep Sheep on a love lovely:
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But when the Shepherd saw the Child
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he was so pleasent in the eye,
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I have no child I'le make thee my heir,
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thou shalt have my goods perdye.
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And then bespoke the shepherds wife,
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unto the child so tenderly,
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Thou must take the sheep & go to the field
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and get them on a love lovely:
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Now let us leave talking of the child
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that is keeping sheep on a love lovely:
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And we'l talk more of the false steward,
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and of his false treachery.
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He bought himself three suits of apparel
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that any Lord might have seem'd to worn
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he went a wooing to the Dukes daughter
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and call'd himself the Lord of Lorn.
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The Duke he welcomed the young Lord
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with three baked Stags anon
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If he had wist himself the false Steward
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to the Devil he should have gone:
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But when they were at supper set
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with dainty delicates that were there,
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The Duke said if thou wilt wed my daughter
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I'le give thee a thousand pound a year:
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The Lady would see the red Buck run
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and also for to hunt the Doe,
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And with an hundred lusty men,
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the Lady did a hunting go;
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The Lady is a hunting gone,
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over Feansel that is so high,
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There was she aware of a shepherds boy
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with sheep on a love lovely:
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And ever he sighed and made moan,
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and cry'd out pittifully,
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My Father is the Lord of Lorn,
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and knows not what's become of me:
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And then bespake the Lady gay,
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unto her maid anon,
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Go fetch me hither the shepherds boy,
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why maketh he all this moan?
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But when he came before the Lady,
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he was not to learn his courtesie,
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Where wast thou born thou bonny child
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for whose sake makest thou all this moan
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My dearest friend, Lady he said,
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is dead many years agon.
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Tell thou to me thou bonny child,
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tell me truth and do not lye,
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Knowst thou not the young Lord of Lorn
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he is come a wooing unto me:
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Yes forsooth, saith the Child,
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I know the Lord then verily:
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The young Lord is a valiant Lord,
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at home in his own Country.
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Wilt leave thy sheep thou bonny Child,
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and come in service unto me,
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Yes forsooth, then said the child
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at your bidding will I be,
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When the Steward lookt upon the child,
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he bewailed him villaniously,
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Where wast thou born thou vagabond,
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or where is thy Country?
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Ha down, ha down, said the Lady,
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she call'd the steward then presently
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Without you bear him more good will,
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you get no love of me.
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Then bespake the false steward,
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unto the Lady hastily:
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At Aberdine beyond the Seas,
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his father robbed thousands three.
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BUt then bespake the Lady gay,
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unto her father courteously:
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Saying, I have found a bonny Child,
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my chamberlain to be:
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Not so, not so, then said the Duke,
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for so it may not be:
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For the young Lord of Lorn that comes a wooing
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will think no good of thee and me.
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When the Duke had lookt upon the Child
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he seem'd so pleasant to the eye;
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Child because thou lovest horses well,
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my groom of Stable thou shalt be.
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The Child ply'd the Horses well,
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a twelvemonth to an end,
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He was so courteous and so true
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every man become his friend:
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He led a fair Gelding to the water,
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where he might drink verily,
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The Gelding up with his head
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and hit the Child above the eye:
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Wo worth the horse, then said the Child
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that ever mare foled thee,
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Thou little knowst what thou hast done
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thou hast stricken a Lord of high degree
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The Dukes daughter was in her Garden green
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she heard the child make great moan,
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She ran to the child all weeping;
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and left her Maidens all alone:
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Sing on thy Song thou bonny child,
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I will release thee of thy pain
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I have made an oath Lady he said,
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I dare not tell my tale again.
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Tell the horse thy tale thou bonny child,
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and so thy Oath shall saved be,
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But when he told the Horse his tale
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the Lady wept most tenderly.
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I'le do for thee my bonny Child,
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in faith I will do more for thee,
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And for thy sake my bonny child,
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I'le put my wedding off months three.
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The Lady did write a letter then,
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full pittifully with her own hand:
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She sent it to the Lord of Lorn,
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whereas he dwelt in fair Scotland:
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But when the Lord had read the Letter,
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his Lady wept most tenderly,
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I knew what would become of my Child
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in such a far country.
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The old Lord call'd up his Merry men
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and all that he gave Cloth and Fee;
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With Seven Lords by his side,
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and into France rides he:
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The wind serv'd and they did sail
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so far into france Land,
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They were ware of the Lord of Lorn,
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with a Porters staff in his hand.
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The Lords they moved hat and hand,
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the Serving-men fell on their knee:
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What folks be yonder, said the Steward
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that maketh the Porter courtesie:
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Thou are a false thief, quod the Lord of Lorn
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no longer might I bear with thee:
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By the law of France thou shalt be judg'd,
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whether it be to live or dye.
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A quest of Lords there chosen was,
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to bench they come hastily:
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But when the Quest was ended,
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the false steward must dye.
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First they did him half Hang,
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and then they took him down anon,
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And then put him in boyling lead
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and then was sodden breast and bone.
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And then bespake the Lord of Lorn
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with many other Lords mo,
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Sir Duke if you be as willing as we,
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we'l have a marriage before we go:
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These Children both they did rejoyce
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to hear the Lord his tale so ended:
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They had rather to day then to morrow
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so he would not be offended.
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But when the wedding ended was,
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there was delicate dainty chear,
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I'le tell you how long the wedding did last
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full three quarters of a year.
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Such a banquet there was wrought
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the like was never seen,
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The King of France brought with him then
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a hundred Tun of good red Wine:
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Five set of Musitians were to be seen,
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that never rested night nor day,
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Also Italians there did sing,
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full pleasantly with great joy.
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Thus have you heard how troubles great
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unto successive joys did turn;
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And happ news amongst the rest
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unto the worthy Lord of Lorn.
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Let Rebels therefore warned be,
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how mischief once they do pretend,
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For God may suffer for a time,
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but will disclose it in the end.
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