Page:The Folk-Lore Journal Volume 7 1889.djvu/488

 352 MORKICE DANCERS AT REVESBY.

[Then Blue Britches goes np to her, and says

Sweet Mistress, be advised by me,

Do not let this old Man be denyed,

But love him for his Gold in store,

Himself may serve for a Cloak, beside. Cicely. Yes, Sir, but you are not in the right,

Stand back, and do not Council me.

For I love a Lad that will make me laugh

In a secret place, to pleasure me. Fool. Good Wench !

Pickle Herring. Love, I have a beard as white as milk. Cicely. Ne'er better for that, thou silly old man. Pickle Herring. Besides my skin, love, is soft as silk. Fool. And thy face shines like a dripping Pan. Pickle Herring. Rafe, what has thou to pleasure her ? Fool. Why, a great deal more, Boy, than there's in the. Pickle Herring. Nay, then, old Rogue, I thee defye. Cicely. I pray, dear Friends, fall not out for me. Pickle Herring. Once I could skip, leap, dance, and sing,

Why will not you give place to me?

Fool. Nay, then, old Rogue, I thee defye.

For thy Nose stands like a Maypole Tree.

[Then goes up Ginger Breeches to Cisley, and says. -

Sweet Mistress, mind what this Man doth say. For he speaks nothing but the truth ; Look on the Soldier, now, I pray, See, is not he a handsome youth ? Cicely. Sir, I am engaged to one I love. And ever constant I will be; There is nothing that I prize above.

Pickle Herring. For a Thousand Pounds, she's gone from me. Fool. Thou may lay Two.