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Lord Bateman was a noble lord,
A noble lord of high degree;
He shipped himself on board of a ship,
From some foreign country he would go see.
He sailed east and he sailed west,
Until he came unto Turkey;
Where he was taken and put in prison,
Until his life it grew quite weary.
Here in this prison there grew a tree,
It grew so very stout and strong;
Where he was chained around the middle,
Until his life it was almost gone.
This Turk he had but one only daughter,
So fair a creature as your eyes did see;
She stole the keys of her father's prison,
And swore Lord Bateman she would set free.
"Has you got houses has you got land,
And does Northumberland belong to thee?
What would you give to the fair young lady,
That out of prison would set you free?"
"I have got houses and I have got land,
And that Northumberland belongs to me;
I'd give it all to the fair young lady,
That out of prison would set me free."
She took him to her father's castle,
And gave to him the best of wine;
And every health that she drank to him was,
"I wish Lord Bateman that you were mine.
"Seven long years I will make a vow,
And seven long years I will keep it strong;
If you will wed with no other woman,
Then I will wed with no other man."
When seven long years had gone and passed,
And fourteen days well known to me;
She packed up her gay golden clothing,
And said Lord Bateman she would go see.
So when she reached Lord Bateman's castle,
So boldly there she rang the bell;
"Who's there who's there?" cried the proud young porter,
"Who's there who's there, unto me tell."
Said she, "Is this Lord Bateman's castle,
Or is his Lordship here within?"
"Oh, yes, oh, yes," cried the proud young porter,
"He's just now taken his young bride in."
"Tell him to send me a slice of cake,
And a bottle of the best of wines;
Not to forget the fair young lady,
That did release him when he was close confined."
Lord Bateman in a passion flew,
His sword he broke in splinters three;
"I will have all my father's riches,
Now since Sophia has crossed the sea."
Then up spoke his young bride's mother,
Who was never known to speak so free:
"You made a bride of my only daughter,
Although Sophia has crossed the sea."
"I own I've made a bride of your daughter,
She's none the better nor worse for me;
She came to me on a horse and saddle,
She may go back in a coach and three."
Another wedding was prepared,
With both their hearts so full of glee;
"I'll roam no more to foreign countries,
Since Sophia has come to me."