University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
The English and Scottish Popular Ballads

Edited by Francis James Child.

expand sectionI. 
expand sectionII. 
expand sectionIII. 
expand sectionIV. 
expand sectionV. 
expand sectionVI. 
expand sectionVII. 
expand sectionVIII. 
collapse sectionIX. 
expand section266. 
expand section267. 
expand section268. 
collapse section269. 
  
  
  
LADY DIAMOND—C
  
  
expand section270. 
expand section271. 
expand section272. 
expand section273. 
expand section274. 
expand section275. 
expand section276. 
expand section277. 
expand section278. 
expand section279. 
expand section280. 
expand section281. 
expand section282. 
expand section283. 
expand section284. 
expand section285. 
expand section286. 
expand section287. 
expand section288. 
expand section289. 
expand section290. 
expand section291. 
expand section292. 
expand section293. 
expand section294. 
expand section295. 
expand section296. 
expand section297. 
expand section298. 
expand section299. 
expand section300. 
expand section301. 
expand section302. 
expand section303. 
expand section304. 
expand section305. 

LADY DIAMOND—C

[_]

Sharpe's Ballad Book, No 4, p. 12, as sung by Mary Johnston, dairy maid at Hoddam Castle.

1

There was a king, and a glorious king,
And a king of mickle fame,
And he had daughters only one,
Lady Dysmal was her name.

2

He had a boy, and a kitchen-boy,
A boy of mickle scorn,
And she lovd him lang, and she loved him aye,
Till the grass oergrew the corn.

3

When twenty weeks were gone and past,
O she began to greet!
Her petticoat grew short before,
And her stays they wadna meet.

4

It fell upon a winter's night
The king could get nae rest;
He came unto his daughter dear,
Just like a wandring ghaist.

5

He cam into her bed-chalmer,
And drew the curtains round:
‘What aileth thee, my daughter dear?
I fear you've gotten wrong.’

6

‘O if I have, despise me not,
For he is all my joy;
I will forsake baith dukes and earls,
And marry your kitchen-boy.’

7

‘Go call to me my merry men all,
By thirty and by three;
Go call to me my kitchen-boy,
We'll murder him secretlie.’

8

There was nae din that could be heard,
And neer a word was said,
Till they got him baith fast and sure
Between twa feather-beds.

9

‘Go cut the heart out of his breast,
And put it in a cup of gold,
And present it to his Dysmal dear,
For she is baith stout and bold.’

37

10

They've cut the heart out of his breast,
And put it in a cup of gold,
And presented it to his Dysmal dear,
Who was baith stout and bold.

11

‘O come to me, my hinney, my heart,
O come to me, my joy!
O come to me, my hinney, my heart
My father's kitchen-boy!’

12

She's taen the cup out of their hands,
And set it at her bed-head;
She washd it wi the tears that fell from her eyes,
And next morning she was dead.

13

‘O where were ye, my merry men all,
Whom I paid meat and wage,
Ye didna hold my cruel hand
When I was in my rage?

14

‘For gone is a' my heart's delight,
And gone is a' my joy;
For my dear Dysmal she is dead,
And so is my kitchen-boy.’