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The Song Book 13
Among the dead bodyes all lifeless he laye, Till evening drew on of the following daye, When by a young ladye discoverd was hee; And this was thy mother, my prettye Bessie.
A baron's faire daughter stept forth in the night, To search for her father, who fell in the fight, And seeing young Montfort, where gasping he laye, Was moved with pitye and brought him awaye.
In secrette she nurst him, and swayed his paine, While he throughe the realm was believd to be slaine % At lengthe his faire bride she consented to bee, And made him glad father of prettye Bessie.
And nowe leste our foes oure lives sholde betraye, We clothed ourselves in beggar's arraye, Her jewelles shee solde, and hither came wee ; All our comfort and care was our prettye Bessie.
And here have we lived in fortune's despite, Thoughe meane, yet contented with humble delighte. Thus many longe winters nowe have I beene The sillye blinde beggar of Bednall-greene.
And here, noble lordes, is ended the songe Of one, that once to your own ranke did belong: And thus have you learned a secrete from mee, That neer had been known but for prettye Bessie.
Chappkll. Words from Percy's Reliques.