Susan Py, or, Young Bichen's garland (1)

Susan Py:
OR,
Young Bichen’s Garland.
SHEWING

How he went to a far Country, and was taken by a Savage Moor, and cast into Prison, and delivered by the Moor’s Daughter, on promise of Marriage; and how he came to England, and was going to be wedded to an ther bride: With the happy arrival of Susan Py on the Wedding Day.

Falkirk, Printed by T. JOHNSTON.
1815.

SUSAN PY:
OR,
YOUNG BICHEN’s GARLAND.

In London was young Bichen born,
⁠he long’d strange lands to see,
He set his foot on good ship-board,
⁠and he sailed over the sea.
He had not been in a foreign land
⁠a day but only three,
Till he was taken by a savage Moor,
⁠and they used him m st cruelly!
In every shoulder the put a pin,
⁠to every pin they put a tree;
They made him draw the plow and car
⁠like horse and oxen in his country.
He had not serv’d the savage Moor
⁠a week nay scarcely but only three.
Till he has casten him in prison strong,
⁠till he with hunger was like to die,
It fell out once upon a day,
⁠that young Bichen he made his moan.
As he lay bound in irons strong,
⁠in a dark and deep dungeon,
An’ I were again in fair England,
⁠as many merry day I have been,
Then I would curb my roving youth,
⁠no more to see a strange land.
O an’ I were free again now,
⁠and my feet well set on the sea,
I would live in peace in my own country,
⁠and a foreign land I no more would see.
The savage Moor had but one daughter,
⁠I wot her name was Susan Py,
She heard young Bichen make his moan,
⁠at the prison-door as she past by.
O have ye any lands, she said,
⁠or have you any money free,
Or have you any revenues,
⁠to maintain a lady like me?
O I have land in fair England,
⁠and I have estates two or three.
And likewise I have revenues,
⁠to maintain a lady like thee.
O will you promise young Bichen, she says,
⁠and keep your vow faithful to me,
That at the end of seven years
⁠in fair England you’ll marry me ?
I’ll steal the keys from my father dear,
⁠tho’ he keeps them most secretly,
I’ll risk my life for to save thine,
⁠and set thee safe upon the sea.
She’s stolen the keys from her father,
⁠from under the bed where they lay,
She opened the prison strong,
⁠and set young Bichen at liberty:
She’s gone to her father’s coffer,
⁠where the gold was red and fair to see,
She filled his pockets with good red gold,
⁠and she set him far upon the sea.
O mind you well young Bichen, she says,
⁠the vows and oaths you made to me,
When you are come to your native land,
⁠O then remember Susan Py!
But when her father he came home,
⁠he miss’d the keys there where they lay,
He went into the prison strong,
⁠but he saw young Bichen was away.
Go bring your daughter, madam, he says,
⁠and bring her here unto me;
Altho’ I have no more bnt her,
⁠to-morrow I’ll gar hang her high!
The lady call’d on the maiden fair,
⁠to come to her most speedily;
Go up the country my child, she says,
⁠stay with my brother two years or three.
I have a brother, he lives in the isles,
⁠he will keep thee most courteously;
And stay with him my child, she says,
⁠till thy father’s wrath be turn’d from thee.
Now will we leave young Susan Py,
⁠a while in her own country,
And will return to y ung Bichen,
⁠who is sefe arrived in fair England.
He had not been in fair England
⁠ab ve years scarcely three.
Till he has courted another maid,
⁠and so forg t his Susan P ,
The youth being young and in his prime,
⁠of Susan Py thought not upon,
But his love was laid on another maid,
⁠and the marriage-day it did draw on.
But e’er the seven years were run,
⁠Susan Py she thought full l ng;
She set her foot on good ship-b ard,
⁠and she has sail’d f r fair England.
On every finger she put a ring,
⁠on her mid-finger she put three,
She fill’d her pockets with good red gold,
⁠and she has sailed o’er the sea.
She had not been in fair England a day,
⁠a day, but only three,
Till she heard young Bichen was a bridegroom
⁠and the morrow to be the wedding-day.
Since it is so, said young Susan,
⁠that he has prov’d so false to me,
I’ll hie me to young Bichen’s gates,
⁠and see if he minds Susan Py.
She has gone up thro’ London town,
⁠where many a lady she there did spy;
There was not a lady in all London,
⁠young Susan that could outvie,
She has call’d upon a waiting-man,
⁠a waiting-man, who stood near by,
Convey me to young Bichen’s gates,
⁠and well rewarded shals thou be.
When she came to young Bichen’s gate,
⁠she chapped loudly st the pin,
Till down then came the proud Porter,
⁠Who’s there, he says, that would be in?
Open the gates, P rter, 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 dazled to see
A lady dress’d in gold and jewels,
⁠no page nor waiting man had she.
O pardon me, madam! he cried,
⁠this day it is his wedding-day.
He’s up the stairs with his lovely bride,
⁠and sight of him you cannot see.
She put her hand in her pocket,
⁠and therefrom took out guineas three,
And gave to him, saying, please kind Sir,
⁠bring down your master straight to me.
The Porter up again has gone,
⁠and he fell low down on his knee,
Saying, Master you will please come down
⁠to a lady who wants you to see.
A lady gay stands at your gates,
⁠the like of her I ne’er did see!
She has more gold above her eye,
⁠nor would buy a baron’s land to me.
Out then spake the bride’s mother,
⁠I’m sure an angry woman was she,
You’re impudent and insolent,
⁠for ye might excepted the bride and me.
Ye lie, ye lie, ye pr ud woman,
⁠I’m sure sae l ud as I (illegible text) you lie;
She has more gold on her body,
⁠than would buy the lands, the bride and thee.
Go down, go down Porter, he says,
⁠and tell the lady gay from me,
That I’m up-stairs wi' my lovely bride,
⁠and a sight of her I cannot see.
The P rter he goes down again,
⁠the lady waited patiently;
My master’s with his lovely bride,
⁠and he’ll not win down my dame to see.
From off her finger she's ta'en a ring,
⁠give that your master, she says, from me,
And tell him now, young man, she says,
⁠to send down a cup of wine to me
Here’s a ring for you, m(illegible text)
⁠on her mid-finger she h(illegible text)
And you are desir’d, my lord, he says,
⁠to send down a cup of wine with me.
He hit the table with his f ot,
⁠he kep’d it with his right knee,
I'll wed my life and all my land,
⁠that is Susan Py come (illegible text) the sea.
He has gone unto the stair-head,
⁠a step he t k but barely three,
He open’d the gates most speedily,
⁠and Susan Py he there c uld see.
Is this the way young Bichen. she says,
⁠is this the way you've guided me!
I relieved you from prison strong,
⁠and ill have you reward'd me.
O mind ye young Bichen, she say
⁠the vows and oaths that ye made to me.
When ye lay bound in prison strong,
⁠in a deep dungeon of misery!
He took her by the milk-white hand,
⁠and led'her into the palace fine,
There was not a lady in all the pa(illegible text)
⁠b(illegible text) Susan Py did all outshine!
The day c ncluded with joy and mirth,
⁠on every side there might you see.
There was great joy in all England,
⁠(illegible text) wedding day of Susan Py.

(illegible text) INIS.