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My Aunt! quoth he, forooth hall he command? No; ooner hall yond hill forake his place, He laughing aid, and would have caught her hand; Her hand he hifted to her blubberd face With prudih modetie, and obd, Alas! Grant me your bond, or ele on yonder tree These ilkin garters, pledge of thy embrace, Ah, welladay! hall hang my babe and me, And everie night our ghotes hall bring all hell to thee.

Ythrilld with horror gapd the wareles wight, As when, aloft on well-tored cherrie-tree, The thievih elfe beholds with pale affright The gardner near, and weets not where to flee: And will my bond forefend thilk mierie? That halt thou have; and for thy peace beside, What mote I more? Houekeeper halt thou be— An awfull oath forthwith his promie tied, And Kathrin was as blythe as ever blytheome bride.