Three Doughtie Men (William Webster Pearson)

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• (Posted 2023-11-27)  CPDL #77634:     

Editor: David Anderson (submitted 2023-11-27).   Score information: Letter, 20 pages, 987 kB   Copyright: Personal

Edition notes:

General Information

Title: Three Doughtie Men
Composer: William Webster Pearson
Lyricist: James Lewton-Brain
Number of voices: 4vv   Voicing: SATB
Genre: Secular, Partsong

Language: English
Instruments: Piano

First published: 1883 Novello, Ewer, and Co.
Description: 

Original text and translations

English text

Once uponne a tyme, three doughtie men,
A huntynge they would goe;
And one hadde a sworde, and one hadde a shielde,
And one hadde a twangynge bow.

They wander’d farre in ye hot countrie,
And mette a queere olde wighte;
To hym they tolde they’re hyghe ressolve,
And how they meant to fyghte.

“A beast there bee in a casstell stronge,
Which is bothe neare and nygh,
O come there-to and slay.—”
There was a twynkelle in hys eye.

Grymme and olde was that stronge castell,
And darke the colde stone staire;
Yet fill’d with pluckke they alle three stryve,
To guarde the dang’rousse reare.

On hands and knees they slowlie creepe:
He opes a lowe oake door;
Dysmayde, they liste a dismal squeeke
From a rattetrappe on the floore.

Fierce and greate the salvage ratte,
Didde make a lepe atte they;
With one accorde they pale and shrieke,
And straightway flee awaye.

And one, two, three downe the harde stone staire,
They howlynge, tymblynge goe,
The one wyth hys sworde, the one wyth hys shielde,
And the thyrd wyth hys twangynge bow.


They pickedde them uppe, the one hadde got,
bruisedde bleedinge nose;
And one hadde blackedde hys left optickke,
The thyrd hadde torne hys clothes.

And saddlie home they slowlie toildde,
And found a lyonne’s skynne;—
“The saynts bee prays’dde,” saydde they;
“We may wyth thys renowne yette wynne.”


And to this day theyre towns-folke saye,
They were three heroes bolde;
From which ’tis cleare they didde notte heare,
The storie we have tolde.

And he of the sworde is made a lorde,
And he of the shielde a knighte;
And eke he now of the twangynge bow
Is deck’dde with medalles brighte.