Glasgerion [Jack Orion]

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OriginalJack Orion

Glasgerion was a kings owne sonne,
And a harper he was good,
He harped in the kings chamber
Where cappe and candle yoode,
And soe did hee in the Queens chamber
Till ladies waxed wood.

And then bespake the Kings daughter,
And these words thus sayd shee [...]

Saide, Strike on, strike on, Glasgerrion,
Of thy striking doe not blinne,
Theres neuer a stroke comes ouer this harpe
But it glads my hart within.

Faire might you fall, Lady, quoth hee;
Who taught you now to speake?
I haue loued you, Lady, seuen yeere,
My hart I durst neere breake.

But come to my bower, my Glasgerryon,
When all men are att rest;
As I am a ladie true of my promise,
Thou shalt bee a welcome guest.

But hom then came Glasgerryon,
A glad man, Lord, was hee;
And come thou hither, Jacke, my boy,
Come hither vnto mee.

For the kings daughter of Normandye
Her loue is granted mee,
And before the cocke haue crowen
Att her chamber must I bee.

But come you hither, Master, quoth hee,
Lay your head downe on this stone,
For I will waken you, Master deere,
Afore it be time to gone.

But vpp then rose that lither ladd,
And did on hose and shoone;
A coller he cast vpon his necke,
He seemed a gentleman.

And when he came to that Ladies chamber
He thrild vpon a pinn,
The Lady was true of her promise,
Rose vp and lett him in.

He did not take the lady gay
To boulster nor noe bedd,
But downe vpon her chamber flore
Full soone he hath her layd.

He did not kisse that Lady gay
When he came nor when he youd;
And sore mistrusted that Lady gay
He was of some churles blood.

But home then came that lither ladd,
And did of his hose and shoone,
And cast that coller from about his necke,
He was but a churles sonne.

Awaken, quoth hee, my Master deere,
I hold it time to be gone, [...]

For I haue sadled your horsse, Master,
Well bridled I haue your steed;
Haue not I served a good breakfast
When times comes I haue need.

But vp then rose good Glasgerryon,
And did on both hose and shoone,
And cast a coller about his necke,
He was a Kinges sonne.

And when he came to that Ladies chamber
He thrild vpon a pinn;
The Lady was more then true of promise,
Rose vp and let him in:

Saies, Whether haue you left with me
Your braclett or your gloue,
Or are you returned backe againe
To know more of my loue?

Glasgerryon swore a full great othe
By oake and ashe and thorne:
Lady!, I was neuer in your chamber
Sith the time that I was borne.

O then it was your litle ffoote-page
Falsly hath beguiled me [...]

And then she pulld forth a litle pen-kniffe
That hanged by her knee;
Says, There shall never noe churles blood
Spring within my body.

But home then went Glasgerryon,
A woe man, good Lord, was hee,
Saies, Come hither, thou Iacke my boy,
Come thou hither to me.

For if I had killed a man to-night,
Iacke, I wold tell it thee;
But if I haue not killed a man to-night,
Iacke, thou hast killed three!

Jack Orion was as good a fiddler
As ever fiddled on a string
He could make young women mad
To the tune his fiddle would sing

He could fiddle the fish out of salt water
Or water from a marble stone
Or milk from out of a maiden's breast
Though baby she'd got none

He's taken his fiddle into his hand
He's fiddled and he's sung
And oft he's fiddled unto the King
Who never thought it long

And he sat fiddling in the castle hall
He's played them all so sound asleep
All but for the young princess
And for love she stayed awake

And first he played at a slow grave tune
And then a gay one flew
And many's the sigh and loving word
That passed between the two

Come to my bower, sweet Jack Orion
When all men are at rest
As I am a lady true to my word
Thou shalt be a welcome guest

He's lapped his fiddle in a cloth of green
A glad man, Lord, was he
Then he's run off to his own house
Says, Tom come hither unto me

When day has dawned and the cocks have crown
And flapped their wings so wide
I am bidden to that lady's door
To stretch out by her side

Lie down in your bed, dear master
And sleep as long as you may
I'll keep good watch and awaken you
Three hours before 'tis day

But the rose up that worthless lad
His master's clothes did don
A collar he's cast about his neck
He seemed the gentleman

Well he didn't take that lady gay
To bolster nor to bed
But down upon the bower floor
He quickly had her laid

And he neither kissed her when he came
Nor when from her he did go
And in and out of her window
The moon like a coal did glow

Ragged are your stockings love
Stubbly is your cheek and chin
And tangled is that yellow hair
That I saw yestereen

The stockings belong to my boy Tom
They're the first come to my hand
The wind has tangled my yellow hair
As I rode o'er the land

Tom took his fiddle into his hand
So saucy there he sang
Then he's off back to his master's house
As fast as he could run

Wake up, wake up my good master
I fear 'tis almost dawn
Wake up, wake up the cock has crowed
'Tis time that you were gone

Then quickly rose up Jack Orion
Put on his cloak and shoon
And cast a collar about his neck
He was a lord's true son

And when he came to the lady's bower
He lightly rattled the pin
The lady was true to her word
She rose and let him in

Oh whether have you left with me
Your bracelet or your glove?
Or are you returned back again
To know more of my love?

Jack Orion swore a bloody oath
By oak and ash and bitter thorn
Saying, lady I never was in your house
Since the day that I was born

Oh then it was your young footpage
That has so cruelly beguiled me
And woe that the blood of the ruffian lad
Should spring in my body

Then she pulled forth a little sharp knife
That hung down at her knee

O'er her white feet the red blood ran
Or ever a hand could stay
And dead she lay on her bower floor
At the dawning of the day

Jack Orion ran to his own house
Saying, Tom my boy come here to me
Come hither now and I'll pay your fee
And well paid you shall be

If I had killed a man tonight
Tom I would tell it thee
But if I have taken no life tonight
Tom thou hast taken three

Then he pulled out his bright brown sword
And dried it on his sleeve
And he smote off that vile lad's head
And asked for no man's leave

He set the sword's point to his breast
The pommel to a stone
Through the falseness of that lying lad
These three lives were all gone.

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