6
And brought one child under his arm
his deareſt blood to ſpill.
The child feeing his father there,
to him for help did call,
O lather help my men her dear,
we ſhall be killed all.
Then fell the lord upon his knees,
and did the Moor intreat
To ſave the life of his poor child,
whole fear by then was great.
But the vile wretch the little child
by both the heels did take,
And daſh'd its brains again!! the wall,
while parents hearts did quake
That being dead he ſtraightway ran
the other child to fetch.
And pluck'd it from its mothers breaſt
moſt like a cruel wretch:
Into one hand a knife he brought,
the child into the other.
And holding it over the wall,
ſaid, thus ſhall die thy mother.
With that he cut the throat of it.
to its father he did call,
To look how he the throat had cut,
that down the brains did fall!
This done, he throws it o‘er the wall,
into the moat ſo deep;
