It is evident that this ballad was very familiar in the latter part of the 16th century, and we find that on March 4, 1587-8, John Wolfe had a licence to print a ballad, entitled "Goe from my Window." It was one of those early songs parodied in "Ane compendious booke of Godly and Spirituall Songs," Edinburgh, 1590. This begins-- "Quho (who) is at my windo, who, who? Goe from my windo; goe, goe. Quha calls there, so like a strangere? Goe from my windo, goe!" At the end of Heywood's "Rape of Lucrece," 1638, is-- "Begone, begone, my Willie, my Billie, Begone, begone, my deere; The weather is warm, 'twill doe thee no harm, Thou canst not be lodged here." And in this form it appears in "Wit and Drollery," 1661, p. 25. In "Pills to Purge Melancholy," 1719, iv. 44, is another version of the song, beginning, "Arise arise, my juggy, my puggy." The tune is found in what is erroneously called Queen Elizabeth's "Virginal Book," and in "A New Book of Tablature," 1596; and in Morley's "First Book of Concert Lessons," 1599; and in Robinson's "Schoole of Musick," 1603. In the "Dancing Master," from 1650 to 1680, the tune is given under the title of "The New Exchange, or Durham Stable," but altered into 6-4 time to fit it for dancing. The tune in its original form may be seen in Chappell, i. p. 141. Chappell has also given a traditional form of the air as obtained at Norwich. Dr. Barrett has given another in his "English Folk-Songs," No. 46, but without saying where he picked it up. We obtained ours from John Woodrich; he heard it in an ale-house near Bideford in 1864, from an old man, who recited a tale, in which the song comes in in snatches. He had been soaked by the rain, and he told the tale as he dried himself by the kitchen fire. The story is this-- Two men courted a pretty maid; one was rich, the other poor; and the rich man was old, but she loved the young poor man. Her father, in spite of her tears, forced her to marry the rich man; but her other suitor came under her window and tapped, and when the husband was away she admitted him. So passed a twelvemonth, and she had a little child. Then, one night, the lover came under the window, thinking her goodman was from home. With his tapping the husband awoke, and asked what the sound was. She said that an ivy leaf, fluttered by the wind, struck the pane. But fearing lest the lover should continue to tap, she began to sing, as she rocked the cradle-- "Begone, begone, my Willie, my Billy, Begone my love and my dear. O the wind is in the west And the cuckoo's in his nest, And you cannot have a lodging here." Again the lover tapped, and the husband asked what that meant. She said that a bat had flown against the window. Then she sang--