Pretty Betsey There was a young lady in London did dwell. She had a true lover most wonderful well, And when her old father this news came to know He beat her so fearfully, he heat her so sore Till Betsey was thrown in the bed to rise no Inore. One day when the old man was down stairs asleep So softly to the window did sweet William creep. Saying, "Betsey, pretty Betsey, I'd freely come to thee, But your old cruel father is quite over me." One day when the old man was upstairs asleep So softly downstairs the old woman did creep For to turn in sweet William pretty Betsey to see. - - - - - - - - - - When William had entered in Betsey's bedroom Betsey turned over, saying, "My doctor has come." "I'm not your doctor," sweet William replied, "But I'm your own true lover, and always shall be." Then Betsey turned over and unto him did cry, "Oh, William, sweet William, pray what shall I do? You see what I'm suffering over loving you.' Then William laid down on Betsey's bedside. Betsey turned over, in his arms she died. "There's no other lady a-liking I'll take For thinking of pretty Betsey who died for my sake." From North Carolina Folklore, Brown Reported by L. W. Anderson of Nag's Head from Alva Wise, one of his pupils in the school there. DT #722 Laws M18 RG oct96
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!