False Fenwick plied in the carriage high All he was walking in for me For he robbed the queen of her finest j**el And laid the blame on James Hatley. James Hatley's bound down in iron strong, James Hatley he is condemned to die; And there is no one who can be found, Who will say one word that will set him free. Except it be for the king's daughter And oh but she loved him tenderly She stole the keys from her father's pillow And she run down to him, James Hatley. "Ah, tell it now, young man," she cries, "Tell it true and tell it to me, And I'll make a vow, and I'll keep it true, That you never will be the worse for me." "I never robbed, lady," he cries, "Not by the night nor by the day, It was Fenwick came thief in the night And now he has laid the blame on me." "One asking, asking, oh father dear, Oh, just one asking, oh, grant to me, I never asked once in all my life; And I'm sure that now you'll grant this to me." "For I want none of your gold, father, And I want none of your land and fee; All that I ask and I ask it now, James Hatley never shall be hanged high." "Another asking, oh father dear, Another asking, oh, grant to me: And let these two men go to the sword, And let them try their verity." "Oh, bravely asked, oh my daughter dear, But now your asking it saddens me. For James Hatley's fifteen years old, And Fenwick he is thirty-three. False Fenwick strolled on the field of battle All for to show his verity. And all the people stood roundabout, Cried, "A dead man are you, James Hatley." And the very first blow that false Fenwick struck, He made the blood run speedily. And all the people stood roundabout, They cried, "Oh, at last for you, James Hatley." But he stood back, him fifteen years old, He's waiting for opportunity. And with his sword both long and sharp He has run it through false Fenwick's body. He struck him swift and he struck him sure, He struck him down all to his knee. And all the people stood roundabout Heard Fenwick cry loud in misery. "Oh, hold your hand now, young man," he cries, And let the breath still remain in me, It was I who came thief in the night Your disgrace and shame it is now on me." "Oh, shed no more of my noble blood, This great disgrace to my loyalty, It was I who came thief in the night And I laid the blame on James Hatley." And up and spoke him an English lord, And oh, but he spoke haughtily: "I would have give all of my estate Just to see James Hatley be hanged high." But up she rose then, the queen herself, I heard her voice ring so loud and high: "There's men would have fought blood up to their knee, Before you'd hanged him, James Hatley." And up and rose him the king's own son, "Come home, James Hatley, and dine with me; I've made a vow and I'll keep it true, You'll be my captain by land and sea." And up and spoke up the king's daughter, "Come home, James Hatley, and dine with me; For I've made a vow and I'll keep it true, You will wed and bed with no one but me."