“I'll tell you a story; a story of one,
'Twas of a great prince whose name was King John.
A great prince was he, and a man of great might
In putting down wrong and in setting up right.
To my down, down, down, derry down.”
Nancy. Massy, what screeches! [Screams violently.
Phœbe. Oh, Nancy, 'twas you screeched then.
Nancy. It wasn't me; 'twas a witch in the chimbly. (Screams again.) There, hear that, will ye? I tell ye 'twa'n't me. I 'ain't opened my mouth.
Olive. Nancy, I will bear no more of this. If you be not quiet, I will tell my mother when she comes home. Now, Phœbe, sing the rest of the song with me, and think no more of such folly. [Sings with Phœbe.
“This king, being a mind to make himself merry,
He sent for the Bishop of Canterbury.
‘Good-morning, Mr. Bishop,’ the king did say.
‘Have you come here for to live or to die?’
To my down, down, down, derry down.
“‘For if you can't answer to my questions three,
Your head shall be taken from your body;
And if you can't answer unto them all right,
Your head shall be taken from your body quite.’
To my down, down, down, derry down.”
Nancy (wagging her head in time to the music). I know some words that go better with that tune.
Phœbe. What are they?
Nancy. Oh, I'm forbid to tell.