Page:Valiant damsel.pdf/6

 ( 6 )

Yet faid my dear I fear you'll die, your belly’s like a drum, Go now get her a docter, And for him feedly run. That I may know the matter, what with my daughter is. The docter fmil'd and thus reply'd, goodwife I have a guefs, Said he fair maid be' no a braid, I hope you’ll foon be well, O what’s the matter dear docter, the truth come to me tell, 0 what’s the matter fay’s the wife, come tell me if you can, The docter laugh’d and fhook his head, fhe’s lain near too a man Hold your tongue her mother fays, I’m fare fhe’s none of thofe, But a cholice fhe has got, It’s that I do fuppofe. When the baby it was born, and dreft fo very fine, How this laffie fhe cry’d out, this child is none of mine. Hold your tongue her mother fays, you deave me with your fpeaking, I never knew a man in all my life, It’s been when I’ve been fleeping. Sing hay the fleepy maiden, fo modeft and fo meek,