Page:The Bab Ballads.djvu/52

50 "I've come, sir knave, to see
 * The master of these halls:

A maid unwillingly
 * Lies prisoned in their walls."

With barely stifled sigh
 * That porter drooped his head,

With teardrops in his eye,
 * "A many, sir," he said.

He stayed to hear no more,
 * But pushed that porter by,

And shortly stood before

he darkly frowned,
 * "What would you, sir, with me?"

The troubadour he downed
 * Upon his bended knee.