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But you would have laught if you had but seen,
how the little wee boy kept up the joke?
Running out after the minister, crying
give me my crown Sir and my new coat.
The Parson has run quite out of the parish,
left behind him his church & his wealth;
The boy & his mother fed well on the wedder,
and at every meal they drank his health.
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THE CARES OF A MARRIED LIFE.
MY gown was of the London black,
and many a yard about:
My petticoat was a scarlet red,
and lac’d about my foot:
Chor. Then was I a maid, a maid,
and joy came to me then.
Both meat and drink and rich clothing,
I’m sure I wanted nane.
My stockings they were tightly wrought,
made of the finest silk,
My shoes were of the Spanish leather,
my buckles were of the gilt. Then, &c.
My smock was of the white bleach’d linen,
as white as the driven snaw,
The belt that was about my middle,
was silk and silver a’.
The beads hang black about my neck,
and many a ring therein,
The cap of lawn was on my head,
was well worth ten shilling.
