BALLAD. (My Lord, and please you, him and…)

My Lord, and please you, him and I, Morn, noon, and night, in every weather, From little children, not this high, In the same cottage liv'd together,

Our parents left me to his care, Saying, let no one put upon her: No, that I won't, says he, I swear; And he ne'er lies, and like your honour.

As I was saying, we grew up, For all the world, sister and brother; One never had nor bit nor sup, Unless it was partook by t'other:

And I am sure, instead of me, Were it a duchess, he had won her; He is so good, and I've, d'ye see, A tender heart, and like your honour.

But, woe is ours, now comes the worst, To-day our sorrows are beginning, What I thought love—oh, I shall burst— That nasty Bailly says was sinning.

With Lubin, who, of all the bliss I ever tasted, is the donor, I took delight to toy and kiss, 'Till I'm with child, and like your honour.