6
There was not a lady in all London
young Susan that could outvie.
She has called upon a waiting man,
a waiting-man that stood hard by,
Convey me to young Bichen’s gate,
and well rewarded thou shalt be,
When she came to young Bichen’s gate,
she knocked loudly at the pin,
Till down then came the proud porter,
who’s there, he says, that would be in?
Open the gates, Porter, she says,
open them to a lady gay,
And tell your master, porter; she says,
to speak a word or two with me,
The porter he has open’d the gates,
his eyes were dazzled to see
A lady dress’d in gold and jewels,
no page nor waiting maid had she.
O pardon me, madam, he cried,
for this is his wedding day,
He’s up the stairs with his lovely bride,
and a sight of him you cannot see.
She put her hand in her pocket,
and therefrom took guineas three,
And gave to him, saying kind Sir,
bring down your master straight to me,
The porter up the stairs has gone,
