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Rh

But if she asks whence comes the prize?

Oh! I can forge you twenty lies.

But if she question me amain.

How shall I answer her again?

If in her rage she cruelly

Rebuke me, how shall I reply?

I can but put her off, forsooth.

With some fair plausible untruth.

And I, if she thereof should know,

Pain worse than death must undergo.

What shall you say? If you have not

A better tale, ’twere well I wot

To say you had it straight from me,

That would above suspicion be,

And nought of blame would you receive

For taking that I chose to give.

AIR-WELCOME saith no more, but sets

The chaplet of sweet flowerets