Girl power

Back in the old days in rural England, farmers would gather at the pub after a day of hard labour in the fields. They would drink a pint of beer and sing many songs. The youngsters novelties, the old ones ancient tunes now forgotten, like the one below: Outlandish Knight

Flora thompson: “The singers were rude and untaught and poor beyond modern imagining; but they deserve to be remembered, for they knew the now lost secret of being happy on little.”

An outlandish knight, all from the north lands,
A-wooing came to me,
He said het would take me to the north lands
And there he would marry me.

‘Go fetch me some of your father’s gold
And some of your mother’s fee,
And two of the best nags out of the stable
Where there stand thirty and three.’

She fetched him some of her father’s gold
And some of her mother’s fee,
And two of the best nags out of the stable
Where there stood thirty and three.

And then she mounted her milk-white steed
And he the dapple grey,
And they rode until they came to the sea-shore,
Three hours before it was day.

‘Get off, get off thy milk-white steed
and deliver it unto me,
For six pretty maids I have drowned here
And thou the seventh shall be.

‘Take off, take off, thy silken gown,
And deliver it unto me,
For I think it is too rich and too good
To rot in the salt sea.’

‘If I must take off my silken gown,
Pray turn thy back to me,
For I think it’s not fitting a ruffian like you
A naked woman should see.’

He turned his back towards her
To view the leaves so green,
And she took hold of his middle so small
And tumbled him into the stream.

And he sank high and he sank low
Until he came to the side.
‘Take hold of my hand, my pretty ladye,
And I will make you my bride.’

‘Lie there, lie there, you false-hearted man,
Lie there instead of me,
For six pretty maids hast thou drowned here
And the seventh hath drowned thee.’

So then she mounted the milk-white steed
And led the dapple grey,
And she rode till she came to her own father’s door,
An hour before it was day.

2 responses

  1. Wat grappig, ik heb dit heel lang geleden op de HAVO als middeleeuwse literatuur gelezen.

    Het enige dat verschilde was dat de moordenaar de jonkvrouw wilde onthoofden met zijn zwaard, waarop de jonkvrouw iets zei in de trant van: “Doe dan wel je trui uit want maagdenbloed dat spreid zo wijd”
    De domoor trapte daar nog in ook, en toen hakte de jonkvrouwe het hoofd van die moordenaar af.

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