Young Beichan and Susie Pye (1800)/Young Beichan and Susie Pye
YOUNG BEICHAN and SUSIE PYE.
IN London was young Biechan born,
and foreign nations he longed to ſee,
He paſs'd thro' many kingdoms great,
till at length he came unto Turkey
He view'd the faſhions of that land,
their way of worſhip viewed he;
But unto any of their ſtocks
would not ſo much a bend as knee.
Which made him to be taken ſtraight
and brought before their Jury:
The ſavage Moor did ſpeak outright.
bid him be us'd moſt cruely.
In ev'ry ſhoulder they put a bore,
and in every bore they put a tree.
They make him for to trail the wine,
and ſpices on his fair body.
They put him into a deep dugneon,
where he could neither hear nor ſee:
For ſeven years they kept him there,
till he for hungar was like to die,
Stephus there King had a daughter fair,
and they called her Susie P e;
Who every day as ſhe took the air,
near to the priſon paſsed by.
But it fell out upon a day,
She heard young Biechun for to ſing:
And the ſong it pleaſed her ſo well
no reſt ſhe got till ſhe came to him.
My hounds they will go maſterleſs,
my hawks they flee from tree to tree,
My youngeſt brother will heir my land.
Fair England again I ſhall ne'er ſee.
But all that night no reſt ſhe got,
for thinking on young Biechan's ſong,
She ſtole the keys from her dad's head,
and to the priſon ſhe is gone,
She has open'd the prison door,
I wat ſhe open'd two or three,
Before ſhe could come Biechan at,
he was locked up ſo curioſly.
But when Biechan ſhe came before,
he admired much her there to ſee,
He thought ſhe'd been ſome pris'nor ta'en.
fair lady I pray of what country!
Have you any lands, Beichan, ſhe ſaid,
or have you my buildings free:
That you would give to a Lady fair,
that out of priſon could let you free?
Near London town I have a hall,
with other buildings two or three,
I'll give them all to that Lady fair,
that from this dungeon will ſet me free
Give me the truth of your right hand,
the truth of it give unto me,
That for ſeven years you'll no lady wed,
unleſs it be along with me.
I'll give thee the truth of my right hand,
the truth of it I will freely gi'e,
For ſeven years I'll ſtay unwed,
for the kindneſs you doth ſhow to me.
She's ta'en him from the dungeon deep,
and ſet him in a room ſo free,
She gave him the red wine to drink
his meat was the ſpice cakes ſo free.
She kept him life in her chamber,
till it fell out upon a day,
An Engliſh merchant thero did come,
with whom he ſent young Beichan away.
She broke a ring from her finger.
one half to Beichen gave ſpeedily,
To keep in remembrance of that love.
the lady bore that ſet him free,
But when he arrived in London town,
his friends they all came him to ſee,
And would needs have him chooſe a wife,
among that jolly company,
O no my friends, young Biechan ſaid,
that would do me much injury,
Till ſeven years are almoſt gone.
I'll marry none in this country.
When ſeven years were almoſt gone,
this lad began for to think long,
She thought ſhe heard a voice that ſaid,
young Beichan's broke his vows, madam!
She packed up her gay clothing,
with rich jewels many a one,
She ſet her ⟨foot unto⟩ a ſhip.
awa, ſhe come to ſee Beichan.
She ſailed Eaſt, ſhe ſailed West,
till to fair Englands ſhore ſhe came
Where a bonny ſhepherd ſhe eſpy'd,
feeding his flock upon the plain;
What news, what news my bonny Shepherd,
what news haſt thou got to tell me?
Such news I hear, madam, he ſays,
the like was ne'er in this country.
There is a wedding in yonder hall,
has held theſe thirty days and three,
The bridegroom will not bed with the bride,
for love of one that's beyond the ſea,
She put her hand in her pocket,
I wat ſhe gave him guineas three,
Pray take you that, my bonny boy,
for the good news thou telleſt me.
When ſhe came to Beichan's gate,
ſhe tirled ſoftly at the pin,
So ready was the proud porter,
to open and let this Lady in.
Is this youug Beichan's hall, ſhe ſaid,
er is that noble Lord within;
Yea he's in he hall among them all,
this very day was his wedding.
She took the ring out of her pocket,
and to the porter ſhe gave it free,
Run to young Biechan with all haſte,
deliver my meſſage ſpeedily.
When that he came his Lord before,
he kneeled low down on his knee;
What aileth thee, my proud porter,
thou art ſo full of courteſy!
I have been porter of your gates,
theſe thirty long years and three,
Now there ſtands a lady at your gate,
the like of her I ne'er did ſee;
For on ev'ry finger ſhe has a ring,
and on the mid finger there's three,
She's as much gold above her brow,
as would buy an earldom to me.
Out then beſpoke the brides mother,
ay, and an angry woman was ſhe;
You might have excepted our bonny bride,
and two or three of her company.
Hold your tongue, thou bride's mother,
of all your folly, let me be
She's ten times fairer than you bride,
and all that's in your company.
She deſires one ſheaf of your wheat bread,
ay, and a glaſs of your red wine,
And to remember the Lady's love,
which laſt reliev'd you of your pine.
O well a day, young Beichan ſaid
that I ſo ſoon have married thee,
For I do vow it is Susie Pye:
has ſail'd the ſeas for love of me,
He took the chair then with his foot,
the table with his knee took he,
Till ſilver cups and ſilver canns,
he made them all to flinders flee,
Out then beſpoke the forenoon bride,
my lord your love it changes ſoon,
This morning I was made your bride.
and another chuſe ere it be noon.
hold thy tongue, thou forenoon bride,
You're ne'er a whit the worſe of me,
And for every penny I got with thee,
O here I give to the back three.
He took her by the milk-white hand,
ſays, the half of my lands I'll give to thee
If thou will marry my brother Will,
who's a ſprightly youth in a lady's eye.
I will not marry thy brother will,
for all the land that I do ſee,
Give me my faith and troth Biechan,
I wiſh I were in your country.
I have the brides ſhoes on my feet,
likewiſe the brides glow on my hands,
For I wil neither eat nor drink,
till I come unto my fathers lands,
He's ta'en Susie Pye by the milk-white hand,
and gently led her up and down,
And ay he kiſſ'd her red roſy lips,
your welcome jewel to your own.
He's ta'en her by the milk-white hand,
and he's led her to yonder green,
He's chang'd her name from Sucie Pye,
and he's called her lovely Jean.