The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #22848   Message #250364
Posted By: Alan of Australia
01-Jul-00 - 09:51 PM
Thread Name: Penguin: The Outlandish Knight
Subject: add: Penguin: The Outlandish Knight ^^
From the Penguin Book Of English Folk Songs, Ed Pellow's rendition of the tune of The Outlandish Knight (Child #4) can be found here.


'An outlandish knight from the north land came,
And he came wooing of me;
And he told me he'd take me to that northern land,
And there he would marry me.'

'Well, go and get me some of your father's gold,
And some of your mother's fee,
And two of the very best stable steeds,
Where there stand thirty and three.'

She borrowed some of her father's gold,
And some of her mother's fee,
And away they did go to the stable door,
Where horses stood thirty and three.

She mounted on her lilywhite horse,
And he upon the grey,
And away they did ride to the fair river side,
Three hours before it was day.

He says: 'Unlight, my little Polly,
Unlight, unlight,' cries he,
'For six pretty maids I've drowned here before,
And the seventh thou art to be.

'Pull off, pull off your silken gown,
And deliver it unto me,
For I think it's too fine and much too gay
To rot in the salt water sea.'

She said: 'Go get a sickle to crop the thistle
That grows beside the brim,
That it may not mingle with my curly locks,
Nor harm my lilywhite skin.'

So he got a sickle to crop the thistle,
That grew beside the brim,
She cached him around the middle so small,
And tumbled him into the stream.

Lie there, lie there, you false-hearted man,
Lie there instead of me,
For six pretty maidens thou has drowned here before,
And the seventh has drowned thee.'

Then she mounted on her lilywhite horse,
And she did ride away,
And she arrived at her father's stable door
Three hours before it was day.

Now the parrot being in the window so high,
A-hearing the lady, he did say:
I'm afraid that some ruffian have led you astray,
That you've tarried so long away.'

Don't prittle, don't prattle, my pretty Polly,
Nor tell no tales of me,
And your cage shall be of the glittering gold,
And your perch of the best ivory.'

Now the master being in the bedroom so high,
A-hearing the parrot he did say:
What's the matter with you, my pretty Polly,
You're prattling so long before day?'

There come an old cat on top of my cage,
To take my sweet life away.
I was just calling on my young mistress
To drive that old puss away.'

Sung by Mr Hilton, South Walsham, Norfolk (R.V.W. 1908)

Click here for another version. Also search the DT for #4.

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