Page:Very old song of the Roman nobleman, or, The cruel blackamoor in the wood (1).pdf/7

7 Which made the father wring his hands, and grievouſly to weep: Then to the Lady went this rogue, who was near dead with fear. Yet the vile wretch moſt cruely did drag her by the hair, And drew her to the very wall, which when her lord did ſee, Then preſently he cried out, and fell upon his knee- Quoth he if thou wilt but ſave her life, whom I do hold ſo dear, I will forgive thee all thats paſt, tho' they concern me nwar. O ſave her life I thee beſecch, O ſave her life I pray, And I will give thee what thou wilt, demand of me this day. well quoth the Moor, I do regard the moan thou doſt make, If thou wilt grant what I requeſt, I'll fave her for thy fake. ſave her life, and now demand of me what thing thou wilt: Cut off thy noſe, and not one drop of her blood ſhall be ſpilt. Then did this noble lord take a knife into his hand,