In this prison there grew a tree:
It grew so very stout and strong:
And he was chained by the middle
Until his life was almost gone.
The Turk, he had one only daughter,
The fairest creature eye e’er did see:
She stole the keys of her father’s prison,
And said she’d set Lord Bateman free.
“Have you got houses?—have you got lands
Or does Northumberland belong to thee?
And what would you give to the fair young I
Who out of prison would set you free?”
“Oh, I’ve got houses, and I’ve got lands,
And half Northumberland belongs to me;
And I’d give it all to the fair young lady
That out of prison would set me free.”
Then she took him to her father’s palace,
And gave to him the best of wine;
And every health that she drank to him
Was “I wish, Lord Bateman, you were mine.
“For seven long years I’ll make a vow;
And seven long years I’ll keep it strong:
If you will wed no other woman,
I will wed no other man.”
Then she took him to her father’s harbour,
And gave to him a ship of fame;
“Farewell, farewell to you, Lord Bateman;
I fear I never shall see you again.”
When seven long years were gone and past,
And fourteen days, well known to me;
She packed up her gay gold and clothing,
And said Lord Bateman she would see.
When she came to Lord Bateman’s castle,
So boldly there she rang the bell:
“Who’s there, who’s there?” cried the young proud porter:
“Who’s there, who’s there, unto me tell?”
“Oh, is this Lord’s Bateman’s castle?
And is his lordship here within?”
“Oh yes, oh yes,” cried the young proud porter:
“He has just now taken his young bride in.”