Here's one last broadside from Bodleian, significantly different \. It's identified as number 10399.


YOUNG MATISLAND

There was a lord liv'd in this town,
   Who had a handsome comely daughter,
She fell in love with a young man,
   That was a servant to her father,
When the lord he came to hear,
   He swore he'd make him quit the island,
The lady said, her heart would break,
   If she must part with young Matisland.

The lord discours'd this lady gay,
   One night within her silent chamber,
He said, young Island I'll transport,
   I fear my child she is in danger.
This lady gay in anguish lay,
   With grief upon her bed repining;
She said my father I'll deceive,
   And so protect my young Matisland.

Straightway she went to her lover's room,
   Demanding him for to awaken,
Arise, said she, and go away,
   Or this night you'll be taken,
Last night I heard my father say,
   In spite of fate he would transport you,
Arise, said she, and go away,
   You know my darling I adore you.

They both sat down on the bed-side,
   For the space of one half hour,
And not a word this couple said,
   But down their cheeks the tears did pour;
She laid her hand against his breast,
   Around his neck her arms entwin'd,
She said no lord or duke I'll wed,
   Since you are going from me Matisland.

How will I go, my dear, said he,
   Like a poor forlorn stranger,
Or must I leave my servitude,
   Or will I go without my wages,
Here's fifty guineas in ready gold,
   That is more than my father owes you,
Arise, said she, and go away,
   I wish to God I had gone for you.

When Matisland the purse receiv'd,
   They kissed, shook hands, and so departed,
She said, Mat, you're going from me,
   And leave me hear (sic) broken hearted.
She returned unto her room,
   And for sometime she lay repining,
And said no lord nor duke I'll wed,
   Since you have left me, Matisland.

The lord he said to, his daughter fair,
   I did not know how dear you loved him,
I give you leave to bring him back,
   As there is none you stile above him,
She wrote a letter off with speed,
   And still her heart it was inclined,
To church the loving couple went,
   And made a lord of young Matisland.

---

All three of these broadside versions have flaws. But put together, they make a good song. So, here's Joe's Broadside Conflagration:

YOUNG MATT HYLAND

There was a lord liv'd in this town,
   Who had a handsome comely daughter,
She fell in love with a young man,
   Who was a servant to her father,
When the lord he came to hear,
   He swore he'd make him quit the island,
The lady said, her heart would break,
   If she must part with young Matt Hyland.

The Lord discours'd this lady gay,
   One night within her lonely chamber,
He said, young Hyland I'll transport,
   I fear my child she stands in danger.
This lady gay in anguish lay,
   With grief upon her bed repining;
She said my father I'll deceive,
   And so protect my young Matt Hyland.

Straightway she went to her lover's room,
   Demanding him for to awaken,
Arise, said she, and go away,
   For this very night you will be taken.
Last night I heard my father say,
   In spite of fate he would transport you,
Arise, said she, and go away,
   You know my darling I adore you.

They both sat down on the bed-side,
   For the space of one half hour,
And not a word this couple said,
   But down their cheeks, the tears did shower.
She laid her head against his breast,
   Around his neck her arms entwin'd,
She said no lord or duke I'll wed,
   Since you are going from me Matt Hyland.

How can I go, my dear, said he,
   Like a poor forlorn stranger?
Or must I leave my servitude,
   Or will I go without my wages?
Here's fifty guineas in ready gold,
   That's more than all my father owes you,
Arise, said she, and go away,
   I wish to God I went before you.

When Matt Hyland the purse receiv'd,
   They kissed, shook hands, and so departed,
She said, my dear, you're going from me,
   In sorrow to leave me broken-hearted.
She returned unto her room,
   And for some time she lay repining,
And said no lord nor duke I'll wed,
   Since you are gone from me, Matt Hyland.

The lord he said to his daughter fair,
   I did not know how dear you loved him,
I give you leave to bring him back,
   As there is none you style above him,
She wrote a letter off with speed,
   To him her heart it was inclined,
To church the loving couple went,
   And made a lord of young Matt Hyland.