And being led in from catching of harm, He had a dainty lute under his arm, Said, ‘Please you to hear any music of me, A song I will sing you of pretty Bessee.’ With that his lute he twangèd straightway, And thereon began most sweetly to play, And after a lesson was played two or three, He strained out this song most delicately:— ‘A beggar’s daughter did dwell on a green, Who for her beauty may well be a queen, A blithe bonny lass, and dainty was she, And many one callèd her pretty Bessee. ‘Her father he had no goods nor no lands, But begged for a penny all day with his hands, And yet for her marriage gave thousands three, Yet still he hath somewhat for pretty Bessee. ‘And here if any one do her disdain, Her father is ready with might and with main To prove she is come of noble degree, Therefore let none flout at my pretty Bessee.’ With that the lords and the company round With a hearty laughter were ready to swound; At last said the lords, ‘Full well we may see, The bride and the bridegroom’s beholden to thee.’ With that the fair bride all blushing did rise, With crystal water all in her bright eyes, ‘Pardon my father, brave nobles,’ quoth she, ‘That through blind affection thus doats upon me.’ ‘If this be thy father,’ the nobles did say, ‘Well may he be proud of this happy day, Yet by his countenance well may we see, His birth with his fortune could never agree; And therefore, blind beggar, we pray thee bewray, And look to us then the truth thou dost say, Thy birth and thy parentage what it may be, E’en for the love thou bearest pretty Bessee.’ ‘Then give me leave, ye gentles each one, A song more to sing and then I’ll begone, And if that I do not win good report, Then do not give me one groat for my sport:— ‘When first our king his fame did advance, And sought his title in delicate France, In many places great perils passed he; But then was not born my pretty Bessee. ‘And at those wars went over to fight, Many a brave duke, a lord, and a knight, And with them young Monford of courage so free; But then was not born my pretty Bessee. ‘And there did young Monford with a blow on the face Lose both his eyes in a very short space; His life had been gone away with his sight, Had not a young woman gone forth in the night. ‘Among the said men, her fancy did move, To search and to seek for her own true love, Who seeing young Monford there gasping to die, She savèd his life through her charity. ‘And then all our victuals in beggar’s attire, At the hands of good people we then did require; At last into England, as now it is seen, We came, and remainèd in Bednall Green. ‘And thus we have livèd in Fortune’s despite, Though poor, yet contented with humble delight, And in my old years, a comfort to me, God sent me a daughter called pretty Bessee.