2
'What news, what news, my brave young porter?
What news, what news have ye for me?'
'As beautiful a ladye stands at your gate
As eer my two eyes yet did see.'
3
'A slice of bread to her get ready,
And a bottle of the best of wine;
Not to forget that fair young ladye
Who did release thee out of close confine.'
4
Lord Bechin in a passion flew,
And rent himself like a sword in three,
Saying, 'I would give all my father's riches
If my Sophia was 'cross the sea.'
5
Up spoke the young bride's mother,
Who never was heard to speak so free,
Saying, 'I hope you'll not forget my only daughter,
Though your Sophia be 'cross the sea.'
6
'I own a bride I've wed your daughter,
She's nothing else the worse of me;
She came to me on a horse and saddle,
She may go back in a coach and three.'
L.
The Loving Ballad of Lord Bateman. Illustrated by George Cruikshank. 1839.
1
Lord Bateman was a noble lord,
A noble lord of high degree;
He shipped himself all aboard of a ship,
Some foreign country for to see.
2
He sailed east, he sailed west,
Until he came to famed Turkey,
Where he was taken and put to prison,
Until his life was quite weary.
3
All in this prison there grew a tree,
O there it grew so stout and strong!
Where he was chained all by the middle,
Until his life was almost gone.