Outlandish Knight- W. Hill (Hamp) 1908 Gardiner
[From George Gardiner Manuscript Collection (GG/1/18/1157) with music,
R. Matteson 2018]
The Outlandish Knight sung by William Hill, of Catherington, Hampshire on 19 August, 1908. Collectors Gardiner, G.B. and Guyer, John F.
1 There was a man come from the north lands,
Came rolling unto me;
He said he would take me unto the north lands,
And there he would marry me.
2 So she got some of your father's gold,
And some of your mother's fee,
And two of the best nags out of the stable,
Where horses stood thirty and three.
3 She mounted her on her milk-white steed,
And he on his dapple grey;
They rode till they came unto the sea-side,
Three hours before it was day.
4 'Light off, light off your milk-white steed,
And deliver it unto me;
For it's six pretty maids have I drowned here,
And the seventh I'll amke you to be.
5 Light off, light off your silken gown,
And deliver it unto me;
Fot it's much too rich and too gay
To rot all in the salt sea.
6 Light off, light off your silken stays,
And deliver it unto me;
Fot it's much too rich and too gay
To rot all in the salt sea.
7 Light off, light off your Holland chamise,
And deliver it unto me;
Fot it's much too rich and too gay
To rot all in the salt sea.
8 If I must pull off my Holland chamise,
You must turn your back unto me;
For a naked woman is not a fit thing
For such a man as you to see.
9 He turned himself all around
To view the fields so green;
She catched him round the middle so small,
And tumbled him into the stream.
10 Then he sank low and he rose high,
Until he came to the side;
Take hold of my hand, you pretty Polly,
And you shall be my bride.
11 Lie there, lie there, you false-hearted man,
Lie there instead of me;
Tis six pretty maids have you drowned here,
But the seventh have drowned thee.
12 She mounted on her milk-white steed,
And led the dapple grey;
And rode till she came to her own father's gate,
Just at the break of day.
13 The King being in his chamber so high,
And the parrot see this pretty maid,
'What is the matter you, my pretty parrot,
You prattle so long before day?'
14 Oh matter enough, says the parrot,
For it all doth lie unto me,
Oh the cats is up in the window so high,
And I think she will bite me.
15 Well turned, well turned, my pretty parrot,
Well turned, unto me;
Your cage shall be made of the glittering gold,
And the door of the best ivory.'