And himself upon a gray,
He never turned his face again,
But he bore her quite away."
Merch. Unworthy of the kindness I have shown
To thee and thine; too late, I well perceive
Thou art consenting to my daughter's loss.
Old Mer. Your daughter? what a stir's here wi' y'r daughter?
Let her go, think no more on her, but sing loud. If both my
sons were on the gallows I would sing,
"Down, down, down: they fall