She had not been there a month to an end, But master and mistress and all was her friend: And every brave gallant, that once did her see, Was straightway enamour'd of pretty Bessee. Great gifts they did send her of silver and gold, And in their songs daily her love was extolled; Her beauty was blazed in every degree; So fair and so comely was pretty Bessee. The young men of Rumford in her had their joy She showed herself courteous, and modestly coy; And at her commandment still would they be; So fair and so comely was pretty Bessee. Four suitors at once unto her did go; They craved her favour, but still she said no; I would not wish gentles to marry with me; Yet ever they honoured pretty Bessee. The first of them was a gallant young knight, And he came unto her disguised in the night: The second a gentleman of good degree, Who wooed and sued for pretty Bessee. A merchant of London, whose wealth was not small, He was the third suitor, and proper withal: Her master's own son the fourth man must be, Who swore he would die for pretty Bessee. And, if thou wilt marry with me, quoth the knight, I'll make thee a lady with joy and delight; My heart's so enthralled by thy beautie, That soon I shall die for pretty Bessee. The gentleman said, Come, marry with me, As fine as a lady my Bessy shall be: My life is distressed: O hear me, quoth he; And grant me thy love, my pretty Bessee. Let me be thy husband, the merchant did say, Thou shalt live in London both gallant and gay; My ships shall bring home rich jewels for thee, And I will for ever love pretty Bessee. Then Bessy she sighed, and thus she did say, My father and mother I mean to obey; First get their good will, and be faithful to me, And then you shall marry your pretty Bessee. To every one this answer she made, Wherefore unto her they joyfully said, This thing to fulfil we all do agree; But where dwells thy father, my pretty Bessee? My father, she said, is soon to be seen: The silly blind beggar of Bednall-green, That daily sits begging for charitìe, He is the good father of pretty Bessee. His marks and his tokens are known very well; He always is led with a dog and a bell: A silly old man, God knoweth, is he, Yet he is the father of pretty Bessee. Nay then, quoth the merchant, thou art not for me. Nor, quoth the innholder, my wife thou shalt be: I loth, said the gentle, a beggar's degree, And therefore adieu, my pretty Bessee. Why then, quoth the knight, hap better or worse, I weigh not true love by the weight of the purse, And beauty is beauty in every degree; Then welcome unto me, my pretty Bessee. With thee to thy father forthwith I will go. Nay soft, quoth his kinsmen, it must not be so; A poor beggar's daughter no lady shall be, Then take thy adieu of pretty Bessee.