'Sir Simon de Montfort my subject shall be; Once chief of all the great barons was he, Yet fortune so cruel this lord did abase, Now lost and forgotten are he and his race. 'When the barons in arms did king Henry oppose, Sir Simon de Montfort their leader they chose; A leader of courage undaunted was he, And oft-times he made their enemies flee. 'At length in the battle on Evesham plain, The barons were routed, and Montfort was slain; Most fatal that battle did prove unto thee, Though thou wast not born then, my pretty Bessee! 'Along with the nobles, that fell at that tide, His eldest son Henry, who fought by his side, Was felled by a blow he received in the fight; A blow that deprived him for ever of sight. 'Among the dead bodies all lifeless he lay, Till evening drew on of the following day, When by a young lady discovered was he; And this was thy mother, my pretty Bessee! 'A baron's fair daughter stept forth in the night To search for her father, who fell in the fight, And seeing young Montfort, where gasping he lay, Was moved with pity, and brought him away. 'In secret she nurst him, and swaged his pain, While he through the realm was believed to be slain: At length his fair bride she consented to be, And made him glad father of pretty Bessee. 'And now, lest our foes our lives should betray, We clothed ourselves in beggars' array; Her jewels she sold, and hither came we: All our comfort and care was our pretty Bessee. 'And here have we lived in fortune's despite, Though poor, yet contented with humble delight: Full forty winters thus have I been A silly blind beggar of Bednall-green. 'And here, noble lords, is ended the song Of one, that once to your own rank did belong: And thus have you learned a secret from me, That ne'er had been known, but for pretty Bessee.' Now when the fair company every one, Had heard the strange tale in the song he had shown, They all were amazed, as well they might be, Both at the blind beggar, and pretty Bessee. With that the fair bride they all did embrace, Saying, Sure thou art come of an honourable race Thy father likewise is of noble degree, And thou art well worthy a lady to be. Thus was the feast ended with joy and delight, A bridegroom most happy then was the young knight, In joy and felicitie long lived he, All with his fair lady, the pretty Bessee. THE BABES IN THE WOOD Now ponder well, you parents dear, These words, which I shall write; A doleful story you shall hear, In time brought forth to light. A gentleman of good account In Norfolk dwelt of late, Who did in honour far surmount Most men of his estate.