2 She was coy, and she would not believe
That he did love her so,
No, nor at any time she would
Any countenance to him show.
3 But when his friends did understand
His fond and foolish mind,
They sent him up to fair London,
An apprentice for to bind.
4 And when he had been seven long years,
And his love he had not seen,
'Many a tear have I shed for her sake
When she little thought of me.'
5 All the maids of Islington
Went forth to sport and play;
All but the bayliff's daughter dear;
She secretly stole away.
6 She put off her gown of gray,
And put on her puggish attire;
She's up to fair London gone,
Her true-love to require.
7 As she went along the road,
The weather being hot and dry,
There was she aware of her true-love,
At length came riding by.
8 She stept to him, as red as any rose,
And took him by the bridle-ring:
'I pray you, kind sir, give me one penny,
To ease my weary limb.'
9 'I prithee, sweetheart, canst thou tell me
Where that thou wast born?'
'At Islington, kind sir,' said she,
'Where I have had many a scorn.'
10 'I prithee, sweetheart, canst thou tell me
Whether thou dost know
The bailiff's daughter of Islington?'
'She's dead, sir, long ago.'
11 'Then will I sell my goodly steed,
My saddle and my bow;
I will into some far countrey,
Where no man doth me know.'