No: 53; variant: 53A
- IN London city was Bicham born,
He longd strange countries for to see,
But he was taen by a savage Moor,
Who handld him right cruely.
- For thro his shoulder he put a bore,
An thro the bore has pitten a tree,
An he’s gard him draw the carts o wine,
Where horse and oxen had wont to be.
- He’s casten [him] in a dungeon deep,
Where he coud neither hear nor see;
He’s shut him up in a prison strong,
An he’s handld him right cruely.
- O this Moor he had but ae daughter,
I wot her name was Shusy Pye;
She’s doen her to the prison-house,
And she’s calld Young Bicham one word by.
- ‘O hae ye ony lands or rents,
Or citys in your ain country,
Coud free you out of prison strong,
An coud mantain a lady free?’
- ‘O London city is my own,
An other citys twa or three,
Coud loose me out o prison strong,
An coud mantain a lady free.’
- O she has bribed her father’s men
Wi meikle goud and white money,
She’s gotten the key o the prison doors,
An she has set Young Bicham free.
- She’s gi’n him a loaf o good white bread,
But an a flask o Spanish wine,
An she bad him mind on the ladie’s love
That sae kindly freed him out o pine.
- ‘Go set your foot on good ship-board,
An haste you back to your ain country,
An before that seven years has an end,
Come back again, love, and marry me.’
- It was long or seven years had an end
She longd fu sair her love to see;
She’s set her foot on good ship-board,
An turnd her back on her ain country.
- She’s saild up, so has she doun,
Till she came to the other side;
She’s landed at Young Bicham’s gates,
An I hop this day she sal be his bride.
- ‘Is this Young Bicham’s gates?’ says she,
‘Or is that noble prince within?’
‘He’s up the stairs wi his bonny bride,
An monny a lord and lady wi him.’
- ‘O has he taen a bonny bride,
An has he clean forgotten me!’
An sighing said that gay lady,
I wish I were in my ain country!
- But she’s pitten her han in her pocket,
An gin the porter guineas three;
Says, Take ye that, ye proud porter,
An bid the bridegroom speak to me.
- O whan the porter came up the stair,
He’s fa’n low down upon his knee:
‘Won up, won up, ye proud porter,
An what makes a’ this courtesy?’
- ‘O I’ve been porter at your gates
This mair nor seven years an three,
But there is a lady at them now
The like of whom I never did see.
- ‘For on every finger she has a ring,
An on the mid-finger she has three,
An there’s as meikle goud aboon her brow
As woud buy an earldome o lan to me.’
- Then up it started Young Bicham,
An sware so loud by Our Lady,
‘It can be nane but Shusy Pye,
That has come oer the sea to me.’
- O quickly ran he down the stair,
O fifteen steps he has made but three;
He’s tane his bonny love in his arms,
An a wot he kissd her tenderly.
- ‘O hae you tane a bonny bride?
An hae you quite forsaken me?
An hae ye quite forgotten her
That gae you life an liberty?’
- She’s lookit oer her left shoulder
To hide the tears stood in her ee;
‘Now fare thee well, Young Bicham,’ she says,
‘I’ll strive to think nae mair on thee.’
- ‘Take back your daughter, madam,’ he says,
‘An a double dowry I’ll gi her wi;
For I maun marry my first true love,
That’s done and suffered so much for me.’
- He’s take his bonny love by the han,
And led her to yon fountain stane;
He’s changd her name frae Shusy Pye,
An he’s cald her his bonny love, Lady Jane.