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Notes and Queries, Eighth Series, II, 43, July, 1842. ‘The Jew’s Daughter,’ communicated by Mr C. W. Penny, as repeated to his brother, the vicar of Stixwould, Lincolnshire, by one of the oldest women in the parish. “A song sung by his nurse to a Lincolnshire gentleman, now over sixty years of age.”
1
You toss your ball so high,
You toss your ball so low,
You toss your ball into the Jew’s garden,
Where the pretty flowers grow.
2
Out came one of the Jew’s daughters,
Dressed all in green:
‘Come hither, pretty little dear,
And fetch your ball again.’
3
She showed him a rosy-cheeked apple,
She showed him a gay gold ring,
She showed him a cherry as red as blood,
And that enticed him in.
4
She set him in a golden chair,
She gave him kisses sweet,
She threw him down a darksome well,
More than fifty feet deep.
156. Queen Eleanor’s Confession.
P. 259. B. Here given as it stands in “The Old Lady’s Collection,” No 6.
1
Our quin’s seek, an very seek,
She’s seek an leak to dee,
An she has sent for the friears of France,
To speak we her spedely.
2
‘Ye’ll pit on a frier’s robe,
An I’ll put one anether,
An we’ll goo to madam the Quin,
Leak frayers bath together.’
3
‘God forbid,’ sayes Earl Marchell,
‘That ever the leak sud be,
That I sud begule madam the Quin;
I wad be hangëd hei.’
4
. . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . .
The King suar by the croun an the septer roun
Eearl Marchell sudne dei.
5
The king pat on a frier’s rob,
Eearl Marchell on anether,
The’r on to the Quin,
Like frayers bath together.
6
‘Gin ye be the frayers of France,’ she says,
‘As I trust wiell ye be,
Bat an ye be ony eather men
Ye sall be hangëd he.’
7
The king he turned him roun,
An by his troth suare he,
‘We ha na sung masse
San we came fra the sea.’
8
‘The first sin ever I did,
An a very grat sin it was tee,
I gaa my medenhead to Earl Marchell,
Below a green-wood tree.’
9
‘That was a sin, an a very grate sin,
Bat pardoned it man be;’
‘We menement,’ said Earl Marchell,
Bat a heavë, heavë heart had he.
10
‘The nist sin ever I did,
An a grat sin it was tee,
I pusned Lady Rosomon,
An the King’s darling was she.’
11
‘That was a sin, an a grat sin,
Bat pardoned it may be;’
‘We menement,’ said King Henry,
Bat a heavë, heavë heart had he.
12
‘The nist sin I ever did,
An a grat sin it was tee,
I keepet pusin in my bosom seven year
To pusin him King Henre.’
13
‘That was a sin, an a grat sin,
Bat pardoned it may be;’
‘We menement,’ sad King Henrie,
Bat a heavë, heavë heart had he.
14
‘O see ye na yon bony boys,
As they play att the baa?
An see ye na Earl Merchal’s son?
I lee him best of all.
15
‘But see ye na King Henry’s son?
He is headed leak a bull an baked like a bore,
I leak him warst of a’:’
‘An, by my soth,’ says him King Henry,
‘I leak him best of the twa.’
16
The king he turned him roun,
Pat on the coat of goud,
The Quin turned her roun,
The king to behald.
17
‘. . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . .
Gin I had na sworn by the croun an the septer roun,
Eearl Marchell sud ben gared dee.’
Written without division into stanzas or verses.
22. An ye’ll.
157. Gude Wallace.
P. 265. From C. K. Sharpe’s “first collection,” p. 18.