%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> A Pretty Ballad of the Lord of Lorn, and the False Steward. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer ?-? Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 03/18/2016 35476

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

1 Green Sleeves Greensleeves Greensleeves IT was a worthy Lord of Lorn, / he was a Lord of high degree, Houghton Library Hazlitt EC65 Editor none none none none Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 63 1: 64 A Pretty Ballad of the Lord of Lorn, and the False Steward. A Pretty Ballad of the Lord of Lorn, and the False Steward. A Pretty Ballad of the Lord of Lorn, and the False Steward. Printer C. Brown, and T. Norris ?-? C. Brown, and T. Norris

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol Americas animals/ nature Bible/ biblical figures buildings/ architecture catastrophe children class clothing/ appearance country/ nation crime death economics/ commerce entertainments family Featured folklore gender holidays/ seasons infidelity labor/ craft law London love maritime marriage military/ war monstrosity mythology/ Classical news nobility/ court politics/ government procreation punishment race/ ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious groups royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgar humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 3/18/2016 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America marriage royalty travel trickery/ deceit Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 3/18/2016 8:04:06 PM XBallad King, Joyce Created XML Version of Ballad 3/18/2016 8:04:06 PM Transcription Supervisor Palmer, Megan Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/18/2016 8:04:06 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Bell, Erik Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/18/2016 8:04:06 PM Transcriptionist Two Levinson-Emley, Rachel Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/18/2016 8:04:06 PM Transcriptionist One Villasenor, Adrianna Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/9/2016 Checker Katie Adkison Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/26/2015 Checker Rachel LevinsonEmley Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/19/2015 Bibliographer Rachel LevinsonEmley Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 12/2/2015 Checker Michael Loose Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A Pretty Ballad of the Lord of <hi rend="bold">Lorn,</hi> and the False Steward.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To the Tune of, <hi rend="bold">Green Sleeves.</hi></hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">Licens'd according to Order.</hi></hi></seg>
IT was a worthy Lord of Lorn, he was a Lord of high Degree, He sent his Son unto the School to learn some Civility. He learned more in one Day, than other Children did in three: And thus bespake the School-master, to him most tenderly: In faith thou art the honestest Boy, as e're I blinkt on with my Eye: I hope thou art some Easterling born, the Holy Ghost is with thee: He said he was no Easterling born, the Child thus answered courteously; My Father is the Lord of Lorn, and I his Son perdye. The School-master turned round about, his angry Mood he could not swage, He marvel'd the Child could speak so Wise, he being of so tender Age. He girt the Saddle to the Steed, the Bridle of the best Gold shown, He took his leave of his Fellows all, and quickly he was gone. And when he came to his Father dear, he kneeled down on his Knee, I am come to you, Father, he said, God's blessing give to me: Thou art welcome, my Son, he said, God's blessing I thee give: What Tydings hast thou brought, my Son, being come so hastily? I have brought tydings, Father, he said, and so liked it may be: There's ne'er a Doctor in all the Realm, for all he goes in rich Array, I can write him a Lesson soon, to learn in seven Years Day. That is good Tydings, said the Lord, all in the Place where I do stand, My Son thou shalt into France go, to learn the Speeches of each Land: Who shall go with him? said the Lady, Husband, we have none but he;
Madam, he said, my head Steward, he hath been true to me. She call'd the Steward to an Account, a thousand Pound she gave him anon. Says, Good Sir Steward, be good to my Child, while he is far from home. If I be false to my young Lord, may God justly punish me indeed. And now to France they both are gone, and God be their good speed. They had not been in France Land, not three Weeks to an end, But Meat and Drink the Child got none, nor Money in Purse to spend: The Child run to the River-side, he was fain to drink the Water then. And after followed the false Steward, to put the Child therein: But, nay, marry, said the Child, he asked Mercy pittifully; Good Steward let me have my Life, whate're betide my Body: Now pull off thy fair Cloathing, and give it me anon; So pull off thy silking Shirt, with many a golden Seam. But when the Child was stript naked, his Body as white as the Lilly-flower; He might have been seen for his Body, a Princes Paramour: He put him on an old Kelter Coat, and Hose of the same above the Knee, He bid him go to the Shepherd's House, to keep Sheep on a love Lovely. The Child said, What shall be my Name? good Steward tell to me: Thy Name shall be Poor, dost thou wear, that thy Name shall be. The Child came to the Shepherd's House, and asked Mercy pitifully: Says, Good Shepherd, take me in, to keep Sheep on a love Lovely: But when the Shepherd saw the Child, he was so pleasant in his Eye,
I have no Child, i'll make thee my Heir, thou shalt have my Goods perdye. And then bespoke the Shepherd's Wife, unto the Child so tenderly; Thou must take the Sheep, and go to field, and keep them on a love Lovely. Now let us leave talking of the Child, that is keeping Sheep on the love Lovely. And we'll talk more of the false Steward, and of his false Treachery. He bought himself three Suits of Apparel, that a Lord might have seem'd to worn; He went a Wooing to the Duke's Daughter, and called himself the Lord of Lorn. The Duke he welcomed the young Lord, with three baked Stags anon, If he had wist him the false Steward, to the Devil he should have gone: But when they were at Supper set, with dainty Delicates that were there, The Duke said, If you will wed my Daughter, i'll give thee a thousand Pound a Year: The Lady would see the red Buck run, and also for to Hunt the Doe, And with an hundred lusty Men the Lady did a Hunting go: The Lady is a Hunting gone over Feanser that is so high; There was she aware of a Shepherd's Boy, with Sheep on a love Lovely: And ever he sighed and made moan, and cryed out pittifully, My Father is the Lord of Lorn, and knows not what's become of me: And then bespake the Lady gay, unto her Maid anon, Go fetch me hither the Shepherd's Boy, why maketh he all this Moan? But when he came before the Lady, he was not to learn his Courtesie. Where wast thou born, thou bonny Child? for whose sake makest thou all this Moan; My dearest Friend, Lady, he said, is dead many Years agon.
Tell thou me, thou bonny Child, tell me the Truth, and do not lie, Knowest thou not the young Lord of Lorn, he is come a Wooing unto me. Yes, Forsooth, saith the Child, I know the Lord then verily; The young Lord is a valiant Lord, at home in his own Country. Wilt leave thy Sheep, thou bonny Child, and come in Service unto me? Yes, Forsooth, then said the Child, at your bidding will I be. When the Steward lookt upon the Child, he bewailed him villianously; Where wast thou born thou Vagabond? or where is thy Country? Ha down, ha down, said the Lady, she called the Steward then presently, Without you bear him more Good will, you get no love of me. Then bespake the false Steward unto the Lady hastily, At Aberdine beyond the Seas, his Father robbed thousands three. But then bespake the Lady gay, unto her Father courteously, Saying, I have found a bonny Child, my Chamberlain to be. Not so, not so, then said the Duke, for so it may not be, For the Lord of Lorn that comes a Wooing will think no good of thee nor me. When the Duke lookt upon the Child, he seemed so pleasant in the Eye, Child, because thou lovest Horses well, my Groom of Stable thou shalt be. The Child ply'd the Horses well, a twelve Month to an end, He was so courteous and so true, every Man became his Friend: He led a fair Gelding to the Water, where he might drink verily, The Gelding up with his Heel, and hit the Child above the Eye; Woe worth the Horse, then said the Child, that ever Mare foaled thee, Thou little knowest what thou hast done, thou hast stricken a Lord of high Degree, The Duke's Daughter was in her Garden green she heard the Child make great Moan, She ran to the Child all weeping, and left her Maidens all alone: Sing on thy Song, thou bonny Child, I will release thee of thy Pain, I have made an Oath, Lady, he said, I dare not tell my Tale again. Tell the Horse thy Tale, thou bonny Child, and so thy Oath shall saved be. But when he told the Horse his Tale, the Lady wept most tenderly; I'll do for thee, my bonny Child, in faith I will do more for thee;
And for thy sake, my bonny Child, i'll put my Wedding off Months three. The Lady did write a Letter then, full pitifully with her own Hand, She sent it to the Lord of Lorn, whereas he dwelt in fair Scotland; But when the Lord had read the Letter, his Lady wept most tenderly: I knew what would become of my Child, in such a far Country. The Old Lord called up his merry Men, and all that he gave Cloath and Fee, With seven Lords by his Side, and into France rides he. The Wind serv'd, and they did sail so far into France Land, They were aware of the Lord of Lorn, with a Porters Staff in his Hand, The Lord they moved Hat and Hand, the serving Men fell on their Knee, What Folks be yonder, said the Steward, that makes the Porter Courtesie? Thou art a false Thief, quoth the Lord of Lorn, no longer might I bear with thee, By the Law of France thou shalt be judg'd whether it be to live or dye. A Quest of Lords there chosen was, to Bench they come hastily, But when the Quest was ended, the false Steward must dye. First they did him half hang, and then they took him down anon, And then put him in boyling Lead, and then was sodden Breast and Bone. And then bespake the Lord of Lorn, with many other Lords mo, Sir Duke if you be as willing as we, we'll have a Marriage before we go: These Children both they did rejoyce, to hear the Lord his Tale so ended, They had rather to Day than to Morrow, so he would not be offended. But when the Wedding ended was, there was delicate dainty Cheer, I'll tell you how long the Wedding did last, full three Quarters of a Year: Such a Banquet there was wrought, the like was never seen; The King of France brought with him then, a hundred Tun of good red Wine: Five set of Musitians were to be seen, that never rested Night nor Day. Also Italians there did sing, full pleasantly with great Joy. Thus have you heard how Troubles great, unto successive Joys did turn, And happy News amongst the rest, unto the worthy Lord of Lorn. Let Rebbels therefore warned be, how Mischief once they do pretend, For God may suffer for a Time, but will disclose it in the End.
LONDON: Printed by and for C. Brown, and T. Norris, and sold by the Booksellers of Pye-corner and London-bridge.