7
No one being there, he to her did say,
Come, madam strip off that gaudy array;
As I'm come so far a harlot to see,
I am resolved your butcher to be
Can'st thou be so cruel, she to him did say,
My innocent life thus to take away?
What harm, my dear jewel have I done to thee
The crime it was yours in deluding of me.
Vile strumpet! dost thou presume for to prat,
Come yield to my sword, for no longer I'll wait.
She to him for mercy did bitterly cry,
But he, hard-hearted wretch, had no mercy.
But finding with him she could not prevail
O Heavens! said she, since all flesh is frail,
Pardon my crimes, which are many, she cries,
Now traitor I'm ready for your sacrifice.
She opened her breast far whiter than snow,
He pierced her heart while the crimson did flow;
Her body her threw in a river near,
And thus died the beauty of fair Oxfordshire.
Home he returned, and when he came there,
He wandered about like a man in despair;
No rest night nor day he ever could find,
The sweet shepherdess ran so in his mind.
Within four days he took to his bed,
