Lord THOMAS and Fair ELLINOR,
Together with the Downfal of the Brown Girl.
To a pleasant Tune, call'd, Lord Thomas, etc.
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LOrd Thomas he was a bold forrester,
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and a chaser of the King's deer;
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Fair Ellinor was a fair woman,
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and Lord Thomas he lov'd her dear.
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Come riddle my riddle, dear Mother, he said,
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and riddle us both as one.
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Whether I shall marry with fair Ellinor,
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and let the Brown Girl alone?
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The Brown Girl she has got houses and lands,
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and Fair Ellinor she has got none;
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Therefore I charge you on my blessing,
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bring me the Brown Girl home.
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And as it befel on a high holiday,
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as many did more beside,
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Lord Thomas he went to Fair Ellinor,
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that should have been his bride.
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But when he came to Fair Ellinors bower,
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he knocked there at the ring;
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But who was so ready as Fair Ellinor,
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for to let Lord Thomas in.
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What news, what news, Lord Thomas, she said,
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what news hast thou brought unto me?
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I am come to bid thee to my wedding,
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and that is bad news to thee.
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Oh! God forbid, Lord Thomas, she said,
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that such a thing shou[l]d be done;
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I thought to have been thy bride my ownself,
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and you to have been the bridgroom.
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Come riddle my riddle, dear Mother, she said,
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and riddle it all in one,
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Whether I shall go to Lord Thomass wedding,
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or whether I shall tarry at home?
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There's many that are your friends, daughter,
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and many that are your foe;
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Therefore I charge you on my blessing,
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to Lord Thomass wedding don't go.
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There's many that are my friends, Mother,
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if a thousand more were my foe,
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Betide my life, betide my death,
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to Lord Thomass wedding I'll go.
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She cloathed herself in gallant attire,
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and her merry men all in green;
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And as they rid thorough every town,
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they took her to have been a queen.
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But when she came to Lord Thomass gate,
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she knocked there at the ring;
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But who was so ready as Lord Thomas,
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to let Fair Ellinor in.
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Is this your bride? Fair Ellin she said,
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methinks she looks wondrous brown:
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Thou might'st have had as fair a woman
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as ever trod on the ground.
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Despise her not, Fair Ellin, he said,
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despise her not now unto me:
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For better I love thy little-finger,
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then all her whole body.
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This brown bride had a little pen-knife,
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that was both long and sharp,
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And betwixt the short ribs and the long
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prick'd Fair Ellinor to the heart.
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Oh! Christ now save thee, Lord Thomas, he said,
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methinks thou look'st wondrous wan;
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Thou us'd for to look with as fresh a colour,
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as ever the sun shin'd on.
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Oh art thou blind! Lord Thomas, she said,
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or canst thou not very well see?
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Oh! dost thou not see my own heart's blood
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runs trickling down my knee?
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Lord Thomas he had a sword by his side,
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as he walkt about the hall,
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He cut off his bride's head from her shoulders,
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and he threw it against the wall.
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He set the hilt against the ground,
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and the paint against his heart;
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There was never three lovers that ever met,
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more sooner they did depart.
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