"There be many that be thy friend, Daughter, But a thousand be thy foe: Therefore I charge thee, upon my blessing, To Lord Thomas s wedding don't go!"
"There be many that be my friend, Mother, Though a thousand be my foe: So, betide my life, betide my death, To Lord Thomas s wedding I'll go!" She decked herself in gallant attire, Her tiremen all in green, And every borough that she rode through, They took her to be some queen. And when she reached Lord Thomas s door, She knocked thereat, therein, And who so ready as Lord Thomas To let Fair Eleanor in?
"Be this your bride, Lord Thomas?" she cried,
"Methinks she looks wondrous brown! Thou mightest have had as fair a woman As ever the sun shone on!"
"Despise her not, Fair Ellen!" he cried.
"Despise her not unto me! For better I love thy little finger Than all of her whole body!" The Brown Girl, she had a little penknife, Which was both long and sharp, And between the broad ribs and the short, She pierced Fair Eleanor s heart!
