3
'Cauſe of his toil, his Lady did
him not to go;
Alas! Good Lady, (then quoth he)
why art thou grieved ſo?
Content thyſelf, I will return
with ſpeed to thee again;
Good father, quoth the little babes,
with us ftill here remain.
Farewel dear children, I will go
a fine thing you to buy,
But they therewith no whit content,
aloud-began to cry
Their mother takes them by the hand,
ſaying, Come go with me,
Unto the higheſt tower, where
your father you ſhall ſee.
The Blackamoor perceived now,
who then did ſtay behind,
His Lord a hunting to be gone,
began to call to mind,
My Maſter he did me correct,
my fault not being great;
Now of his wife I'll be reveng'd,
he ſhall not me intreat.
The place was moated round about,
the bridge be up did draw;
The gates he bolted very ſtrong,
of none he ſtood in awe.
