I prithee John tell me no Lie,
What ails my Dame to Squeak and Cry?
I prithee John tell me the same,
What is’t my Master gives my Dame?
It is a Steel, quoth John,
My Master gives my Dame at Night:
Altho’ some fault she find,
I’m sure it is her Heart’s Delight:
And you Joan for your part,
You love one withal your Heart: