Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry of England
General
Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry of England
Ballads, English -- England -- Texts; Songs, English -- England -- Texts
He said, ‘O brave Catskin, I find it is thee,
Who these three nights together has so charmèd me;
Thou’rt the sweetest of creatures my eyes e’er beheld,
With joy and content my heart now is filled.
‘Thou art our cook’s scullion, but as I have life,
Grant me but thy love, and I’ll make thee my wife,
And thou shalt have maids for to be at thy call.’
‘Sir, that cannot be, I’ve no portion at all.’
‘Thy beauty’s a portion, my joy and my dear,
I prize it far better than thousands a year,
And to have my friends’ consent I have got a trick,
I’ll go to my bed, and feign myself sick.
‘There no one shall tend me but thee I profess;
So one day or another in thy richest dress,
Thou shalt be clad, and if my parents come nigh,
I’ll tell them ’tis for thee that sick I do lie.’
PART IV.
Thus having consulted, this couple parted.
Next day this young squire he took to his bed;
And when his dear parents this thing both perceived,
For fear of his death they were right sorely grieved.
To tend him they send for a nurse speedily,
He said, ‘None but Catskin my nurse now shall be.’
His parents said, ‘No, son.’ He said, ‘But she shall,
Or else I’ll have none for to nurse me at all.’
His parents both wondered to hear him say thus,
That no one but Catskin must be his nurse;
So then his dear parents their son to content,
Up into his chamber poor Catskin they sent.
Sweet cordials and other rich things were prepared,
Which between this young couple were equally shared;
And when all alone they in each other’s arms,
Enjoyed one another in love’s pleasant charms.
And at length on a time poor Catskin, ’tis said,
In her rich attire again was arrayed,
And when that his mother to the chamber drew near,
Then much like a goddess did Catskin appear;
Which caused her to stare, and thus for to say,
‘What young lady is this, come tell me, I pray?’
He said, ‘It is Catskin for whom sick I lie,
And except I do have her with speed I shall die.’
His mother then hastened to call up the knight,
Who ran up to see this amazing great sight;
He said, ‘Is this Catskin we held in such scorn?
I ne’er saw a finer dame since I was born.’
The old knight he said to her, ‘I prithee tell me,
From whence thou didst come and of what family?’
Then who were her parents she gave them to know,
And what was the cause of her wandering so.
The young squire he cried, ‘If you will save my life,
Pray grant this young creature she may be my wife.’
His father replied, ‘Thy life for to save,
If you have agreed, my consent you may have.’
Next day, with great triumph and joy as we hear,
There were many coaches came far and near;
Then much like a goddess dressed in rich array,
Catskin was married to the squire that day.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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