C
Sharpe’s Ballad Book, No 4, p. 12, as sung by Mary Johnston, dairy maid at Hoddam Castle.
1
There was a king, and a glorious king,
And a king of mickle fame,
And he had daughters only one,
Lady Dysmal was her name.
2
He had a boy, and a kitchen-boy,
A boy of mickle scorn,
And she lovd him lang, and she loved him aye,
Till the grass oergrew the corn.
3
When twenty weeks were gone and past,
O she began to greet!
Her petticoat grew short before,
And her stays they wadna meet.
4
It fell upon a winter’s night
The king could get nae rest;
He cam unto his daughter dear,
Just like a wandring ghaist.
5
He cam into her bed-chalmer,
And drew the curtains round:
‘What aileth thee, my daughter dear?
I fear you’ve gotten wrong.’
6
‘O if I have, despise me not,
For he is all my joy;
I will forsake baith dukes and earls,
And marry your kitchen-boy.’
7
‘Go call to me my merry men all,
By thirty and by three;
Go call to me my kitchen-boy,
We’ll murder him secretlie.’
8
There was nae din that could be heard,
And neer a word was said,
Till they got him baith fast and sure
Between twa feather-beds.
9
‘Go cut the heart out of his breast,
And put it in a cup of gold,
And present it to his Dysmal dear,
For she is baith stout and bold.’
10
They’ve cut the heart out of his breast,
And put it in a cup of gold,
And presented it to his Dysmal dear,
Who was baith stout and bold.
11
‘O come to me, my hinney, my heart,
O come to me, my joy!
O come to me, my hinney, my heart
My father’s kitchen-boy!’
12
She’s taen the cup out of their hands,
And set it at her bed-head;
She washd it wi the tears that fell from her eyes,
And next morning she was dead.
13
‘O where were ye, my merry men all,
Whom I paid meat and wage,
Ye didna hold my cruel hand
When I was in my rage?
14
‘For gone is a’ my heart’s delight,
And gone is a’ my joy;
For my dear Dysmal she is dead,
And so is my kitchen-boy.’